After the light rain passed, the weather turned colder still, and the now-settled Huo household finally set out on the road.

Qiqian’er followed the Huo family as they quietly slipped back to Huo Family Village, and was once again confined to the back courtyard. This household always had matters they didn’t want her to know about, and she had no interest in prying—she cared nothing for whatever broken relics Master Huo had hidden beneath the ancestral hall.

A few days earlier, though, she had watched the eldest young master take little Kui Ge out with him.

Kui Ge hadn’t wanted to go, crying his heart out.

Qiqian’er had run over and stuffed half a dried fruit into the boy’s arms, and Kui Ge had stopped crying, gnawing at the fruit with his baby teeth, sniffling.

This was a lucky little boy—she had, after all, seen Kui Ge again later. He’d been led by the owner of an oil shop in the city to go burn incense at a temple, carried the whole way, plump and fair-skinned.

That shopkeeper had bought him a fried cake at the temple gate, and seeing Kui Ge had no hands free to take it, had simply tucked the pinwheel toy the boy was holding into the back of his collar instead…

The eldest young master had traded Kui Ge for half a sack of coarse rice, and the following day had taken the eldest daughter-in-law out and brought back half a sack of bean cake meant for livestock, his eyes red-rimmed. The Huo family wasn’t short on silver or valuables—just food.

Nowadays, even carrying gleaming gold ingots into the city, one couldn’t find anywhere selling grain.

The days of the first year of Yong’an were not easy ones. Barely a few peaceful days had passed before two heavy snowfalls in winter claimed the lives of more refugees who had come from all over seeking survival.

After the chaos of war, the untended farmland lay fallow with no one to till it. Though the new Emperor harbored ambitions of a prosperous reign, such things took time. Everyone said there was a path to survival right beneath the Son of Heaven’s feet, yet who could have known that the starving masses who had trudged thousands of li in hopeful desperation would be forcibly driven back out by the newly arrived right-flank army from the capital.

These past two days, Qiqian’er had kept thinking about that fortune hidden in the temple. What could a weak woman like herself do with those things, wherever she might go?

Wherever she went, she couldn’t protect it anyway.

Back then, fortunately, she had lived beside the old military camp in Quanhou Village. That Stinkhead had been, however humbly, a military officer—though he could only offer her a life of plain clothes and coarse food, at least it had been enough to survive on.

In her past life, once things had improved, she had started holding grudges. But looking at the current state of affairs now, if not for that bowl of rice from the Old Chen family, she would have died so long ago there wouldn’t even be ashes of her left—and yet she’d still resented all those old family grievances. What was the point, really?

After a couple more days of packing and trimming down, the old Huo household was finally ready. Before the refugee crowds could reach the area, they set out together as a group.

Leaving their home behind, the entire household, save for Qiqian’er, wept bitterly. The accumulated family wealth of generations, impossible to carry, had to be abandoned. Madam Wang, once the commanding mistress of the estate, in the end could only disguise herself as a refugee, wearing a patched coarse cloth robe, her head wrapped in a tattered cloth, clutching a small bundle, sitting atop the handcart the eldest young master pulled, weeping and wailing the whole way.

The young masters of this household had never suffered such hardship before. With one pulling and one pushing, they hadn’t gone far down the old official road before Madam Wang had already fallen off three times, and the second young master’s shoulders had rubbed raw and bleeding.

Growing capable required enduring such suffering—whether the pampered eldest young master or the second young master, or any of the others left in the family, even with knees scraped bloody and raw from falling, they all got up without a word of complaint and kept walking.

After walking about half a day, the handcart finally became somewhat steady.

The eldest young master muttered as he pushed the cart: “Mother, the hundred-some catties we traded for isn’t nearly enough to eat.”

Madam Wang glanced around, feeling only a wave of gloom inside—of course she knew it wasn’t enough, but their family was now facing the disaster of total annihilation, and she dared not linger even a moment longer.

Helplessly, Madam Wang said: “If it’s not enough, then go hungry, endure it, hold on! We’ll figure it out once we reach Xiaonan Mountain. With money still to spare, I refuse to believe we can’t trade for bean cake even at ten taels a dou!”

The second young master, pushing from the front, muttered: “Ten taels? Mother, what are you thinking? You couldn’t buy it for twenty taels these days! Besides, how far is Xiaonan Mountain from here anyway? I’d wager it’s no better there either!”

Their hearts sunk in despair, and they had no energy left even to argue further. Madam Wang, glancing around, spotted Qiqian’er off in the distance.

Qiqian’er, having been made to suffer all her life, was sturdier than the eldest young master despite her ordeal—she now had far more strength than him. Though she carried a massive basket on her back, her footing remained steady.

As she walked, she watched with quiet amusement. Seeing the wretched state of these young masters and mistresses who had once bullied her and her sisters—well, the hard times were only just beginning.

In Huo Family Village, how many poor servants had died pointless deaths, how many helpless women had entered that household kneeling and left it carried out feet-first—this was hardly anything by comparison.

Madam Wang slowly let out a breath, the hand gripping her bundle tightening until the veins stood out.

She didn’t know how long they had walked before, seeing more and more refugees rushing desperately toward Qingfeng, and fearing trouble given the valuables their family carried, they used their local knowledge to turn off the old official road and take the village paths around Baiquan Mountain instead.

Only once they could no longer see Qingfeng’s old city walls did Madam Wang finally break down and wail loudly, cursing Heaven for its blindness even as she cried, cursing that old wretch who had abandoned the whole family…

Qiqian’er carried a wicker basket nearly as tall as herself on her back, inside which, besides two quilts, sat the second young master’s five-year-old son.

Through misery and desolation, she didn’t know how long they’d walked before, passing through an empty village, just as they exited its edge, she collapsed to the ground and couldn’t get up.

The little boy began wailing loudly. Qiqian’er struggled a few times but ultimately failed to rise—and truthfully, she had no desire to get up at all.

She had finally spotted the place she’d been looking for.

Not far ahead, amid vast stretches of abandoned farmland, stood an old military camp encircled by newly built wooden fences, flying a banner bearing the character “Tan,” one she recognized well.

The eldest young master, forced to stop the cart, looked back at his fallen half-sister and, unable to hold back his frustration, said to Madam Wang: “Mother! She’s nothing but a burden!”

Madam Wang looked down at Qiqian’er lying on the ground, then glanced around. Ai—this scrawny, withered thing, taken out and brought back once already, not even worth five catties of bean cake to anyone…

She jumped down from the cart, walked over, and kicked Qiqian’er twice, then scooped up the little boy to comfort him while glancing around.

That’s when she spotted, a hundred paces away beneath a great willow tree outside the military camp, an old woman sitting cross-legged on a stone millstone, holding a large tobacco pipe.

The old woman herself wasn’t remarkable, but what caught the eye were the four or five plump-but-not-too-plump goats gathered around her. Not far from the old woman stood a soldier with a sword at his hip, missing half an arm, wearing tattered cloth armor.

Madam Wang’s eyes lit up. She glanced first at the one-armed soldier, then down at Qiqian’er, and a sly smile curled at the corners of her mouth. “My child, get up quickly… your good days have arrived!”

She had Qiqian’er set down the basket, pulled her up to stand behind the handcart, then reached into her bundle and produced an unpatched jacket, which she put on Qiqian’er. Seeing the girl’s hair in complete disarray, she even spat on her fingers and smoothed down her hair at the temples.

Qiqian’er foolishly submitted to this treatment, identical to what she’d received in her past life, her heart pounding with a mixture of urgency and pain.

Having roughly tidied Qiqian’er up, and once she looked at least somewhat presentable, Madam Wang led her toward the great willow tree. They had gone only a few steps when the one-armed soldier suddenly barked: “Halt!”

Madam Wang jumped and froze in her tracks. Her legs went weak; she turned to look at her two sons, who dared not even lift their heads, and inwardly cursed them for useless wretches.

Having come this far already, she forced a few strained smiles onto her face and called out: “Officer, sir, we mean no harm! We just want to have a word with you.”

The soldier eyed them carefully, then glanced at the old woman.

The old woman, having been bored these past few days with nowhere to go, nodded at him, wanting to watch this bit of entertainment unfold.

And so the one-armed soldier called out to Madam Wang: “Come over here!”

Madam Wang’s legs went soft beneath her; halfway there she nearly toppled forward. Qiqian’er, alarmed, reached out to steady her, calling: “Madam, careful now.”

Madam Wang hesitated inwardly at this, turning to look at Qiqian’er’s genuinely concerned face, and somehow felt a pang in her heart, her eyes reddening at once.

The moment Qiqian’er had reached out her hand, she’d realized her mistake—in her past life, she’d been foolishly sold off without ever showing such concern.

In an instant, her old heart pounded like a great drum, terrified that Madam might change her mind and decide not to sell her after all.

She helped support Madam Wang as they stumbled their way to the great willow tree. Once there, Madam Wang released her, brushed the dust from her clothes, and bowed respectfully to the old woman. “Greetings, madam, how do you do.”

Who would have thought that this old woman across from her would prove so utterly unreasonable—hearing the greeting, she simply gave a cold snort: “Do well, my foot!”

Well, how was one supposed to respond to that?

Qiqian’er’s mouth twitched slightly as she lowered her head. In her previous life, this old woman had seemed just as terrifying as Madam Wang. But looking at her now, she was really nothing more than a shriveled old woman, nothing frightening about her at all.

Madam Wang, having never been treated this way in her entire life, blushed with humiliation but still forced a fawning smile: “Oh, you—how could you not be doing well? Just looking at you, your face shows such fortune, and having children and grandchildren everywhere—isn’t that wonderful? You look wonderful indeed!”

As she flattered the old woman, Madam Wang carefully studied her from head to toe.

The old woman wore a fading peach-red headband, with a piece of jade—half green, half white, carved with a longevity pattern—crudely sewn into the center of it, an accessory clearly meant for a man’s belt, yet now fastened in the middle of this old woman’s forehead.

She had a broad forehead, thin eyebrows, drooping eyes, a wide mouth, and yellowed teeth. Despite her severe features, she wore an unusual pair of gold earrings—one with a lotus-flower pendant, the other a plain hoop.

Looking further down, the old woman wore a man’s cross-collared satin jacket patterned with bats. Satin doesn’t wear easily, but the old woman, thrifty with fine fabric, had patched the cuffs, hem, and collar of the jacket with coarse dark-red cloth patches.

As she moved, one could see several thick silver bracelets of varying sizes on each arm.

Goodness—it looked as though she’d piled everything valuable the family owned right onto her own body.

Madam Wang had a silver tongue and knew how to handle people; her flattery had clearly struck a chord with the old woman, who at present longed for nothing more than children and grandchildren filling her house. Hearing such pleasing words, her wrinkled face broke into a smile, and she looked Madam Wang up and down and asked: “You certainly know how to talk sweet. Where are you from?”

Madam Wang brushed the dust from her clothes again and said with a fawning smile: “From over by Qingfeng.”

The old woman asked again: “Where are you headed?”

Madam Wang answered: “Reporting back to you, madam, the city has fallen and our home is gone. With more and more refugees about and afraid of trouble, we’re heading back to our ancestral home.”

Hearing this, the old woman turned to look at the one-armed soldier.

The soldier nodded at her.

The old woman sighed: “Well then, that’s understandable too. If you don’t leave, what else, wait to starve to death? Go on then—the farther the better, this place really isn’t safe anymore.”

Hearing this, Madam Wang, feeling a measure of certainty settle in, said while holding back tears: “Yes, yes, yes, you’ve seen much of the world, madam—that’s exactly our thinking. However hard life is back home, at least we can scrape by, and besides, our relatives are all there, we can look out for each other…”

With that, the conversation lulled, and besides, the old woman didn’t seem inclined to keep talking. With haughty indifference, jangling her silver bracelets, she pointed a long arm toward the village ancestral hall courtyard not far off. “There’s a well over there.”

Madam Wang forced a smile but shook her head at the old woman. “Madam, we’re not here to ask for water.”

Hearing this, the old woman grew wary at once, her face taking on a harsher, more suspicious look. “Not for water? Are you asking for directions then? Well! I don’t know the way either—I’m from out of town myself, only arrived here a few days ago.”

Madam Wang bowed again: “Madam, we’re not asking for directions either.”

The old woman leaned back slightly, eyeing her with utmost caution. “Then? Then what do you want!”

Madam Wang forced a bitter smile, glanced at the one-armed soldier, then at Qiqian’er beside her, swallowed hard several times, and finally, tentatively, pleaded: “Well then… madam, elder, does your family perhaps have an unmarried son? This girl of mine… would you consider taking her as a daughter-in-law for your family? Just… just in exchange for some food would be enough…”

Madam Wang trailed off, saying nothing further once she’d finished.

The old woman, seated on the millstone, blinked in surprise at this, looking Madam Wang up and down, then studying Qiqian’er as well.

Madam Wang, having gone without proper food for so long, was thin as cut paper, and combined with her recent exhaustion, did indeed look rather like someone who had suffered hardship.

The old woman knocked her pipe against the millstone, tucked it into the back of her waistband, and hopped down from the stone, walking straight up to Qiqian’er, looking her over from head to toe as though appraising livestock.

She had no real intention of buying, but according to custom, she still had to drive down the price, feign disdain, to appear worldly and shrewd.

After circling several times, she said dismissively: “This is your girl? Skinny as a plucked sparrow, not even worth two ounces of meat, and you want to trade her for food? What wishful thinking! No, no! Get going!”

Madam Wang cursed inwardly but had no choice but to keep smiling and pleading: “Oh, well, yes, she is a bit thin, but old madam, though my girl looks small and frail, whatever needs doing—spinning, weaving, kitchen work, field work, household matters or outside affairs—she can manage it all.”

The old woman remained unimpressed with Qiqian’er, simply shaking her head and saying no, telling them to leave quickly.

Pressed to her limit, Madam Wang, from some well of grievance she couldn’t quite explain, let tears come streaming down, and choking back sobs, pleaded with the old woman: “Old madam, please have mercy—I won’t hide it from you, it’s a new dynasty now, though I shouldn’t speak of the past, my family was once a good family too, and this girl of mine…” Madam Wang pulled Qiqian’er over, holding up her hand as though to praise some good quality, but unfortunately Qiqian’er wasn’t tall, and hadn’t filled out yet, was sallow and thin-haired with calloused hands.

Stumbling over her words, Madam Wang began rambling on: “Old madam, ah, this girl of mine has suffered greatly, but she used to be perfectly fine, truly! We raised her properly as a good young lady too. My husband… my husband, well, he was a scholar too—he passed the provincial examination! You know what that means, right? Just one step below a top scholar… This child, I—my girl is the most well-mannered, she studied a bit under her father too…”

This speech from Madam Wang caught the old woman’s attention at once. This old woman, having lived through storms of her own in her time, harbored one great unresolved knot in her heart her whole life: the matter of literacy.

So, a girl who could read?

But Qiqian’er, hearing Madam Wang’s speech, felt her heart turn as cold and desolate as thin clothes falling into an ice pit in the depths of winter.