Ruined city, old temple. The scorched old tree collapsed with a crash.
The scrawny, thin-haired little girl coughed twice, her legs sprawled comfortably over the old threshold, her body leaning against the doorframe, sipping wine in small mouthfuls while softly humming some nameless children’s tune.
Two lifetimes, so much experience of wind and rain—when a person faces true calamity, worldly possessions are truly useless. No amount of money could buy back her An’er’s life.
The old eunuch stared blankly for a long while, then finally turned to look her up and down properly. After a good while, he asked seriously: “Girl, isn’t being richer than a kingdom a good thing?”
Qiqian’er smirked. “I’m just a woman of the back courtyard. I couldn’t hold on to riches like that even if I had them.”
Clearly just a scrawny, undeveloped girl, yet insisting on calling herself a “woman of the back courtyard.”
The old eunuch found this eerie in his heart, but having encountered chaos, witnessed Heaven’s punishment, and now being here in this temple with this strange girl, he found himself attributing some measure of the divine to her.
After thinking it over carefully, he asked cautiously: “But I wonder—girl, what is it you want?”
Qiqian’er, half-sprawled as if astride a horse, swayed for a moment, then set down the flask and, raising a bloodied arm toward the sky, declared: “Me? I just want to be bold enough to defy Heaven itself!”
Most people, when drunk, say things exactly like this.
Yet it was a pity—here, in this place, with this person, under these circumstances, the drunken nonsense happened to strike a chord in the old eunuch’s heart. In an instant, something in him stirred with an inexplicable fondness.
An indescribable kind of fondness—even though the girl was dressed in rags, sallow and thin-haired, he found himself drawn to her.
He had been ruthless his whole life, and especially after his mutilation, had nursed an unspeakable resentment toward the world. He had never accepted defeat, clawing his way step by step to the very core of the old palace through sheer ambition—but what had it been worth? Looking back now, it amounted to nothing more than a lifetime spent bullying and oppressing those he was powerful enough to bully.
Just hours ago, he had still told himself that though his body was maimed, he was far more upright than those who had sold out the country, who had opened the city gates. He had protected the true dragon emperor, protected the legitimate bloodline!
But look at the outcome.
He was nothing but a castrated fool.
Now, hearing someone speak of wanting to overturn Heaven itself, he suddenly felt every pore in his body open up, an indescribable sense of release washing over him.
He laughed loudly again.
Drunk to the point of forgetting who she was or where she was, Qiqian’er opened her mouth and cursed: “Old fool! Shut your mouth! You’re about to die, so just die quietly—stop your laughing, it’s too unpleasant to listen to!”
The old eunuch stopped laughing at once. He coughed several times, clutched his chest, and sat up a little straighter. He knew she was drunk, but he had no intention of letting her go now—having witnessed Heaven’s punishment, he had, after all, come to fear death.
Heh, what fate this was—say what you would about him, he had been utterly loyal to the Li family his whole life, yet never imagined it would end like this. He had meant to open the underground passage to cut off that family’s escape route entirely, but who could have expected he’d run into such a strange little girl instead.
Thinking this, he laughed breathlessly, clutching his chest: “Your idea isn’t bad at all. Overturning Heaven—heh, this old servant would be happy to join in. Heh, this old servant is truly delighted…”
Qiqian’er, hearing this, wore an expression of contempt, her mind thoroughly muddled by now—muddled enough that she thought she must be dreaming. She climbed down off the threshold, crawled over, raised her head to look the old eunuch up and down, and even reached out to pat his ghostly pale face, saying: “You—what good is your delight?”
Weren’t you about to die anyway?
No one had dared slap this old face of his in so many years.
The old eunuch grew even more astonished. Not knowing what had come over him, he forced out a heap of ingratiating smiles and said, with an obsequious, twisted expression: “That’s—that’s right, no use at all!”
“That’s what I said!”
Qiqian’er laughed along with him, having entirely forgotten that this man before her was black-hearted, forgotten that just last night this very courtyard had been filled with corpses, all killed by this withered old man’s own hands.
She swayed and sat cross-legged, then, quite kindly, handed him the wine flask, saying: “Here, here! What’s the use fussing over it—there’s food, have a couple mouthfuls, think it through. Have a drink and go on your way happy! You say you vomited a whole basin of blood? How come you’re still not dead? This wine’s not bad, stronger than old Niu’s family’s wine down at the alley mouth… that Niu family’s liquor, tsk, forty percent water and still they sell it at a premium—may their whole family get struck by lightning!”
Without waiting for a response, she poured several more mouthfuls down his throat.
Seeing him choke, she even half-supported him, patting his back, while continuing to console him in an old, world-weary tone: “Don’t fret so much—everyone dies eventually, it’s over in the blink of an eye. Maybe you’ll come back just like me, one blink and you’re back…”
The Chief Steward, caught between laughter and tears, accepted this rare kindness—he knew perfectly well the girl before him was drunk and talking nonsense. He was past sixty, and here he was being called “old brother” by a young girl—well, so be it, so be it… He decided to grant her a stroke of fortune, so she could go be bold enough to defy Heaven after all.
With that thought, he reached into his robe and pulled out a cloth bundle, placing it in Qiqian’er’s hands, saying with a smile: “Girl, take this as a gift. This is a bit of fortune I came by years ago—quite a fine thing. This servant originally meant to use it as a cover, but now—take it and go overturn the heavens.”
Qiqian’er took the bundle and untied it, staring in a daze at the two scrolls inside. The upper one was titled Scripture of Cultivating Unity, and the lower one, Thirty-Six Forms of the Moon Virtue.
Seeing her flip through them carelessly, the old eunuch smiled and pleaded: “Girl, may I ask a favor of you?”
Qiqian’er paused, puzzled, and looked up at him.
The old eunuch begged: “In a while, once this servant is gone, things won’t go well for me down below. If—if you think kindly of me, would you burn a bit of paper money for me on festivals and holidays? Would that be all right? This servant’s surname is Liao—I won’t give my full name, lest I shame my ancestors.”
Qiqian’er laughed on hearing this. “Is that all? Just a few sheets of paper money, no trouble at all. But this Moon Virtue scripture of yours or whatever, I won’t recite it for you—I can’t even read! Hic—why are you showing me this? Isn’t this Moon Virtue thing about rabbits? Since when do rabbits have scriptures? Honestly, this thing isn’t worth two flatbread cakes!”
Once she was full, she still had to go get married, still had to bear her An’er—why would she want to study scriptures?
The old eunuch, assuming she was simply very drunk, grew even more eager to please: “Girl, it’s not a scripture at all—this is a fine thing! Don’t underestimate that rabbit—weak as it may be, it has the courage to challenge even an eagle. Paired with that cultivation and breathing technique, once you’ve mastered it properly, even if you can’t fly to the heavens, this servant guarantees you could stir up quite a storm…”
Qiqian’er, seeming to consider this, licked her finger and began flipping through the book.
But the moment she turned a page, she saw a crowd of unclothed monks—some standing, some seated in meditation, some upside down…
Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey! What depravity!
Though she, Qiqian, had lived a wretched life, she was still a woman of upright character and virtue. Was this old eunuch mad? Even on the verge of death, he was still trying to corrupt her.
As if her hand had touched hot coals, Qiqian’er flung the book to the ground and stomped on it several times.
Seeing her trampling the book, the old eunuch hurriedly threw himself over it to protect it, shouting as he shielded it: “What are you thinking, girl? This is a fine treasure!”
Qiqian’er pointed at him and cursed: “Fine my foot! I can’t even bear to look at it—what filth to sully my eyes with! Not even worth two flatbread cakes! You wretched old thing, you’re dying and still trying to corrupt me?”
The old eunuch, utterly unable to communicate with her, gave up entirely in exasperation.
After a good long while, he sat there weakly watching Qiqian’er stomp about until she could no longer stand, then finally sat back down cross-legged. Helplessly, he sighed: “Ah! You—you can only think about food and drink, is that it? Outside—outside on my cart there’s several hundred catties of dry provisions too, enough to fill your belly…”
By now, food was all Qiqian’er cared about.
Hearing there was food, she turned to crawl outside at once, but the old eunuch caught hold of her ankle.
She kicked her legs backward a few times but couldn’t shake free, so she turned to glare at the wretched old man: “Why won’t you just die already?”
Poor Chief Steward—a man who had commanded great authority his whole life, now driven half to fury by this scrawny girl.
That’s right, he was about to die, he really was about to die!
The Chief Steward spat up another mouthful of blood, and, quite at his wits’ end, nearly begged with tears in his eyes: “Girl—besides the grain, this servant has also buried over three hundred taels of loose silver down there, money earned honestly, saved bit by bit over the years… If, once your belly is full, you think kindly of me, could you help distribute that silver for me? Take it to whatever temple gate you like, help whatever poor family you see fit—it’s all fine. Consider it buying myself a smooth path to reincarnation, would you?”
Qiqian’er was reluctant in her heart, but she couldn’t leave anyway, so with no choice, she sat cross-legged again before the old eunuch. “You’re a chatty old official, aren’t you. What else do you have to say? Just hurry up and say it so you can be on your way—I’ve got things to do!”
With that, she wiped her bloodied finger on her trousers.
The old eunuch let out a sigh of relief, then smiled and took hold of her arm. “Girl, would you be so kind as to help this servant to the well outside?”
“Sure! Why not!”
And so, Qiqian’er, her head still swimming with drink, helped support the old eunuch as they stumbled their way outside…
The autumn wind blew past; the two tattered books fluttered forlornly in it. The needle-fine drizzle had just stopped when Qiqian’er, splitting headache and all, rolled out from beneath the altar table.
By the time she finally came fully to her senses, she looked at the half piece of flatbread in her hand and let out a wine-soured belch.
Had she just sent someone to their death? And someone like that, no less?
Had she also gone down into that cellar and taken the former dynasty’s money?
And made off with a good number of gold ingots too?
Beneath the altar table, several large sacks of dried provisions, pickled vegetables, and dried meat lay scattered about, along with a small, loosely tied bundle of gold ingots.
Qiqian’er sat stunned for a while as the vast tide of memories—whether from her past life or this one—came sweeping back over her.
Shock, terror, fright—all at once, Qiqian’er’s mind churned into a muddled mess. Tears streaming, she clutched her head and began to howl.
As she howled, she rolled about on the ground.
The fierce beast the god of plague rode, its head still dislocated, watched on expressionlessly…
She rolled and rolled until it lost all meaning, then sat up and slapped herself several more times, furious with herself for being so recklessly bold, so careless with her own life.
At last it all came back to her—last night, as she helped the old eunuch outside, he had told her that what lay below was Sixth Prince Li’s military funds, set aside for raising an army in the future. She wasn’t to touch anything else, but the fourth chest, the one without any markings—that gold and silver she could take.
And she really had taken it—gone down and carried back up a whole sack.
The old eunuch had instructed her to leave the cellar entrance exposed, so that whoever discovered it tomorrow, amid the ensuing looting, would never trace it back to her…
And then, the old eunuch had thrown himself into the well. He truly hadn’t wanted to live any longer.
But why hadn’t he wanted to live?
Qiqian’er stood, stumbled to the edge of the well, only to find that after a night of burning, it had long since been reduced to a ruined, collapsed mess of scorched bone and flesh.
She looked again and saw the temple gate standing wide open. Beyond it stood a dark blue-grey donkey pulling a cart with a blue cloth canopy, still waiting obediently.
Right—there had been an entire large convoy of carts here yesterday. Following the old eunuch’s instructions, she had untied the ropes and set all the horses and carts loose.
This one cart remained only because it carried dry provisions, and she hadn’t untied its rope. The donkey, seeing her, brayed loudly.
Qiqian’er suddenly remembered—the loose silver the old eunuch had mentioned, she still hadn’t taken it…
She stood there, dazed, unable to believe just how drastically her fate had turned.
What exactly had she done last night, to become so bold? She truly wasn’t afraid of death anymore—not at all!
Thinking this, she reached back and slapped herself once more. Having finished slapping herself, she found herself feeling rather pleased.
Thinking about it, who could have imagined—in her previous life, the moment she’d seen that bloody arm she’d turned and fled; this time she hadn’t run, and instead had gained such an opportunity… But was this—was this a good thing, or not?
Well, it had to be a good thing… At the very least, she now had several hundred catties of dry provisions.
With that thought, Qiqian’er walked to the tree, untied the cart’s rope, and led the donkey through the temple gate…
Once inside, she tied up the donkey properly and returned to the main hall. The moment she stepped in, her foot landed right on the Scripture of Cultivating Unity.
Qiqian’er bent down, picked up the book, flipped through it a couple times, unable to bear looking at it, and closed it twice more…
Now that she could read, she saw the first page read: Open the qi, refine the membranes first; govern the qi, connect the meridians as the main practice; circulate the qi through the hours of the day, harmonize above with the kidneys, draw it into the dantian, let one thought stand for ten thousand…
Hmm… she recognized the characters now, but what on earth was this supposed to mean?
Unable to make heads or tails of it, Qiqian’er simply stuffed both books into her robe and headed for the grain sacks beneath the altar.
In this world, every twist and turn has its cause and effect. Pity these two books, which had once stirred up storms across the realm in the previous dynasty, fought over by so many—now fallen into the hands of a back-courtyard woman. More infuriating still, in Qiqian’er’s eyes, these two things weren’t even worth as much as two catties of coarse flour cakes…
Qingfeng had been besieged for half a month, then Heaven had rained down its punishment—the night before, the earth had turned and trembled violently, smashing the once-fine city of Qingfeng full of deep craters.
At that same time, fifteen li outside the city, in an abandoned courtyard at Huo Family Village, the remaining dozen or so members of the Huo household, old and young, forced themselves to survive, waiting in the cellar…
No one quite knew what they were waiting for. They were simply waiting.
The evening before, the lady of the house had sent the three concubine-born daughters out to search for food, and even now, not one of the three girls had returned. Everyone understood in their hearts that they surely weren’t coming back… These days, the sky offered no path, the earth offered no path, and people had long since run out of paths to survive on.
The cellar was utterly silent—no one wept, no one made a fuss, only the half-mad eldest daughter-in-law, her shriveled breasts bare, cradled her child, dead three or four days now and already beginning to reek, humming a tune as she murmured: “Mother’s baby, eat now, eat a few mouthfuls, grow up big and strong, when you’re grown you’ll study with your father, we’ll win first place in the imperial exams…”
A few days ago, when the household’s matron had heard such mad ravings, she still had the strength to slap her a few times. But by now, with nothing in her stomach, she no longer had the energy to display any authority.
She merely felt that with her grandson dead, her own death could not be far behind.
Madam Wang, half-mad with hunger, had thought more than once about crawling over to strangle her eldest daughter-in-law—she was of no use anymore anyway, so why not… why not just eat her.
But she lacked the courage, and so she simply kept turning over these malicious thoughts in her head.
She didn’t know how much time had passed before someone crawled up beside her and whispered “Mother” in her ear. Madam Wang knew this was her eldest son, Huo Yunzhang.
Huo Yunzhang crawled up to his mother’s ear and, gathering his courage, said in a low voice: “Mother… Duanniang… she’s gone mad!”
Before her son had even finished speaking, mother and son understood each other perfectly. The malice in Madam Wang’s heart found support; she grabbed her son’s hand, about to say something, when the broken wooden board covering the cellar entrance above was suddenly lifted away…
Dim daylight spilled into the cellar, illuminating everyone’s faces clearly.
The seventh daughter, who had been missing for a full day and night, poked half her body through the opening, her face streaked with tears, and shouted: “Madam! Madam! Come out quickly—Qingfeng, Qingfeng city has fallen, and there are people outside handing out porridge!”