The moment Li Shuying reached the riverbank, the breath of early autumn met her cool, dry, and tinged with the faint scent of withering grass. The river had long since retreated, its waters shrinking into a narrow thread far from its breadth last year. What remained was a vast stretch of exposed earth, pale and cracked, littered with brittle stalks and yellowed weeds that rustled softly under the wind.
Scattered across the wide bank, children bent over their work in small clusters, their thin figures moving diligently as they gathered fodder.
Among them, the Liu twins were the smallest. Barely two and a half, their tiny frames wobbled with effort as they squatted low to the ground, plucking at dry grass with their soft, unsteady fingers. Compared to the older children they seemed almost fragile.
Li Shuying's gaze softened slightly. She walked toward them without a word and lowered herself onto the ground nearby.
Liu Weiguo was the first to notice her. He lifted his small head, his eyes bright with curiosity despite the dust smeared across his cheeks, "Sister," he asked in his childish, halting voice, "did you come to earn work points too?"
Li Shuying nodded, a faint smile touching her lips. "Mn. Just like you."
The boy grinned and returned to his task with renewed enthusiasm, his tiny hands working even faster.
But Liu Weimin, who had been watching her quietly, suddenly paused. His brows knit together in earnest seriousness as he tilted his head, "But sister…" he said hesitantly, "aren't you a fairy? The kind who can make delicious food with magic?"
Li Shuying blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "A fairy? Who told you that?"
Liu Weimin immediately pointed at his brother with complete confidence. "Gege said so."
Liu Weiguo straightened at once, his small face turning solemn as if burdened by a great secret. He glanced around before whispering in a reproachful tone, "Didn't I tell you? This is a heavenly secret. You must not speak of it carelessly!"
Li Shuying stared at them for a moment… and then let out a quiet, helpless chuckle.
So that day's sweet-and-sour chicken had turned her into a "fairy" in their eyes.
For a fleeting second, she considered correcting them, but the sight of their earnest little faces, so serious in their belief, made her swallow the words. Some illusions were kinder than truth.
Instead, she simply watched them. Their hands were small, their strength almost nonexistent, yet they persisted stubbornly, pulling, gathering, piling.
But as her gaze drifted over their work, her expression slowly changed. They were collecting dry hay. Not just them but every child around was doing the same.
Li Shuying frowned faintly. She rose to her feet and scanned the area more carefully. The land was barren, no trace of fresh amaranth, no tender greens suitable for proper feed. Only dry stalks remained, lifeless and hollow.
Her brows drew together, "Can pigs really grow well on this?" she murmured under her breath.
Just as she was about to call out to one of the older children to ask, a sudden commotion broke the stillness behind her.
A sharp, angry shout cut through the air. Li Shuying turned sharply. A boy no more than five was rushing toward the Liu twins, his face twisted with irritation. In his hand, he held a small sickle, its dull blade catching the pale sunlight as he waved it recklessly.
"Move! This is my place!" he shouted, shoving forward without restraint.
The twins froze, their tiny bodies trembling as the boy pushed closer, the sickle swinging dangerously near them.
Li Shuying's eyes darkened instantly. Without hesitation, she strode forward and shoved the boy aside with a swift, controlled force, placing herself firmly in front of the twins.
"What are you doing?" her voice rang out, cold and sharp like a snapped reed.
The boy stumbled back, losing his footing as he fell onto the ground with a thud. For a moment, he seemed stunned then his face crumpled, and he burst into loud, exaggerated sobs, "You old hag! You wicked woman!" he shrieked between cries. "How dare you push me?!"
Li Shuying frowned. Something about him felt familiar. There was a faint recognition tugging at the edge of her memory, but it refused to fully surface. Just as she was searching her memory, a young girl of eight or nine came running toward them, her breath uneven with panic.
"Baozi! Are you alright? Why are you crying?" she called out anxiously as she rushed to his side.
At the sound of that name, recognition flashed through Li Shuying's mind. Her faint frown vanished, replaced by a knowing calm.
Baozi, still sobbing loudly, pointed a trembling finger at Li Shuying. "It was her! This wicked woman pushed me! Go call Grandma, only she can deal with this old hag!"
The girl immediately crouched beside him, gently wiping his tears. But as she lifted her head, her expression hardened into a fierce glare, "Li Shuying," she snapped, her tone sharp and accusatory, "have you forgotten who you dared to push? Do you think you can escape if I call my grandmother? How dare you hurt Baozi? Apologize to him now."
Li Shuying's gaze turned icy. A cold snort escaped her lips, "Apologize?" she said slowly, her voice laced with disdain. "In your dreams. If this little bastard dares to harass Liu Weimin and Liu Weiguo again, I won't just push him, I'll beat him until he can't get up."
Baozi burst into louder cries, his wailing drawing the attention of every child along the riverbank. Within moments, a circle formed around them, curious eyes fixed on the unfolding scene.
The girl's temper flared instantly, "You bitch!" she shouted, leaping to her feet. "How dare you call my brother a bastard!"
In a surge of anger, she snatched up the sickle lying nearby and swung it toward Li Shuying. But before the blade could descend, Li Shuying moved. Her hand shot out with precision, catching the girl's wrist mid-air. With a sharp twist, the girl's grip faltered, and the sickle clattered onto the dry ground.
"Ah...!" the girl shrieked, her face contorting in pain. "Let go of me!"
Li Shuying's eyes remained cold, her expression unyielding, "Li Xiaocui," she said evenly, her tone carrying quiet authority, "it seems your parents forgot to teach you how to speak properly to your elders. Since that is the case, perhaps I should teach you instead."
Li Xiaocui glared back fiercely despite the pain, her voice filled with venom, "My parents taught me how to speak to people," she retorted. "But you and your entire family are nothing but animals. My grandmother says you are worse than animals, so why should I show you any respect?"
A faint, dangerous smile curved Li Shuying's lips, "Is that so?" she murmured. "Then let me show you what an 'animal' is capable of."
Releasing Li Xiaocui's hand, she turned calmly toward the gathered children. Her demeanor shifted, her voice softening just enough to draw them in, "Tell me," she said, her gaze sweeping across them, "do Li Xiaocui and Li Xiaobao often bully you? Do they stop you from working?"
The children hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances. Years of intimidation were not easily cast aside.
But slowly, one by one, small nods began to appear.
Finally, a braver boy stepped forward, "He does," he said, pointing at Baozi. "He's so small, but he always carries a sickle and threatens us. He says his granduncle is a production team leader. He won't let us collect grass, and he steals what we gather. If we argue, he cries and calls his grandmother… and our parents don't want to quarrel with her. They say she's shameless and troublesome."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the group.
Li Shuying's smile deepened, sharp with understanding, "You don't need to fear them," she said calmly. "His granduncle is not our production team leader. He has no power over our work points, and he cannot control our grain allocation as well. Next time he threatens you, don't run to your parents, handle it yourselves."
The children looked at one another again, still uncertain, caught between fear and the spark of newfound courage.
Seeing this, Li Shuying released Li Xiaocui completely and slipped her hand casually into her pocket. In truth, she drew from her system space, her fingers closing around something rare and precious.
When she withdrew her hand, it was filled with bright, milky-white candies.
The moment they appeared, the children's eyes widened in unison. White Rabbit candy?
In a year where even grain was scarce, such sweets were nothing short of a treasure. Li Shuying opened her palm, letting them see clearly.
"Let's begin today," she said lightly, her tone carrying a hint of mischief. "This is White Rabbit candy. Whoever helps me teach this shameless pair of siblings a proper lesson… will get one."
Li Xiaobao's wailing stopped as abruptly as if someone had pinched it off. His tear-streaked face lifted, and his eyes locked greedily onto the White Rabbit candies resting in Li Shuying's palm. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.
"I want that," he declared, his voice still thick with sobs but now edged with demand. He pointed rudely at her. "You shameless girl, hand over those candies! If you don't, I'll call my grandmother, then you'll see!"
Beside him, Li Xiaocui stood frozen, her earlier fury faltering under the dazzling temptation. Her gaze flickered between the candies and Li Shuying, disbelief and suspicion mingling in her eyes.
"W...where did you get those?" she stammered. "You must have stolen them! Your family is so poor, you could never afford such things!"
Li Shuying did not even spare them a glance. Her expression remained calm, almost indifferent, as though they were nothing more than background noise. Instead, she addressed the other children, her voice steady yet carrying a quiet weight. "You have all been wronged before, haven't you?" she said. "Today, we settle it. There is no need to fear."
She paused, then added softly, as if reciting an old village saying, "Even a rabbit will bite when cornered. Why should you endure in silence?"
Her words struck something deep. The children shifted uneasily at first, years of habit holding them back. But their eyes kept drifting to the candies, a rare as treasures in a time of hunger. Desire began to outweigh hesitation.
Finally, one boy clenched his fists and stepped forward. "Let's beat them!" he shouted. "We'll get the candies!"
"Yes!" others echoed, their voices rising with sudden courage.
Li Xiaocui's face flushed red, anger flaring again, but this time, it lacked its earlier dominance.
"You dare!" she shrieked, trying to sound imposing. "Do you all want trouble? When my grandmother hears..."
She never finished. The children surged forward like a released tide.
Three girls immediately surrounded Li Xiaocui, their pent-up resentment exploding. They grabbed her hair, pulled her down, and began striking her, slaps landing one after another, scratches marking her face, her cries rising in shrill panic.
At the same time, the boys closed in on Li Xiaobao. The once-arrogant boy was quickly overwhelmed. His earlier threats dissolved into terrified sobs as he was shoved and struck from all sides.
The quiet riverbank erupted into chaos, cries and shouts. For a brief moment, Li Xiaocui resisted, pride stiffening her spine. But instinct soon overpowered stubbornness.
"Stop! Stop!" she cried, her voice breaking. "I was wrong! I won't do it again! Please stop!" Only when her voice turned desperate and hoarse did the children begin to slow, their strength spent.
Panting and flushed, they finally stepped back. Seizing the moment, Li Xiaocui grabbed her brother, and the two scrambled to their feet. Without daring to look back, they fled stumbling, crying, and utterly humiliated.
Li Shuying watched their retreating figures, a faint chuckle escaping her lips, "This Li family," she murmured under her breath, "from the eldest to the youngest… rotten to the core. A beating like this is long overdue."
But as the thought settled, another figure surfaced in her mind, Zhang Xiuli. That woman would not let this matter rest so easily.
Only when the siblings had completely disappeared into the distance did the tension break. A hesitant cheer rose among the children, soft at first, then swelling with relief and excitement.
Li Shuying turned back to them and opened her palm once more, "Promises should be kept," she said simply.
One by one, she handed out the candies.
Small, calloused hands reached forward with trembling eagerness. Eyes shone with a mixture of disbelief and joy. Some children held the sweets carefully, as though afraid they might vanish if gripped too tightly. Others quickly tucked them into their pockets, unwilling to eat them just yet.
The boy who had spoken first stepped forward again and lowered his head slightly, "Thank you… Sister Shuying," he said, his voice sincere.
Li Shuying waved her hand lightly. "No need," she replied. "Just remember, next time, you don't need me to stand in front."
The boy nodded firmly, his expression resolute.
Nearby, the Liu twins gazed up at her with wide, almost reverent eyes. Liu Weimin tugged gently at her sleeve.
"Sister…" he whispered, awed, "you really are a fairy."
Li Shuying paused, then let out a soft laugh, "A fairy?" she echoed. "No… just someone who doesn't like bullies."
But as her gaze swept across the group, her smile slowly faded. Not a single child had eaten their candy. Instead, they stared at them as though they were priceless treasures. One child lifted his candy to his nose, inhaling deeply with closed eyes. Another carefully wrapped his in a scrap of cloth, tucking it away like something sacred.
Li Shuying stood there, momentarily stunned, as understanding slowly settled over her like the chill of the autumn wind.
Hunger had taught them restraint far beyond their years. These children did not lack courage, they lacked abundance.
A familiar bitterness rose within her as memories from her previous life surfaced unbidden. If she had been in their place back then… would she have eaten the candy so easily? No.
She would have hidden it away, guarding it like treasure. Perhaps for months. Not to eat, but to have. To know that something sweet existed within her reach. On lonely nights, she might have taken it out, inhaled its sweet fragrance, or dared to lick it once, just enough to trick her starving body into brief satisfaction. That illusion alone would have been enough.
Her gaze drifted across the group again, lingering this time on the girls. The boys, at least, might occasionally receive scraps of better food, a steamed coarse bun, a piece of sweet potato, something spared out of preference. But the girls… were different.
The old ways still clung stubbornly to the village, like weeds that refused to die. Girls were born into neglect, raised in hardship, and lived as burdens. From a young age, they were expected to work, shouldering responsibilities far beyond their years. And when they grew older, they were traded away in marriage, reduced to a bride price that determined their worth.
A lifetime decided before they even understood it. For them, something as simple as a White Rabbit candy was not just a treat, it was a miracle they had no right to expect.
Than Li Shuying's chest tightened as she remembered the famine. At its worst, the village had occasionally echoed with cries of this girls. She had heard of girls being sold, traded like grain for survival. Some became child brides. Others… vanished into darker fates, taken by traffickers in exchange for food. And some were simply left behind when families fled in search of relief, abandoned like excess weight.
Their lives had been tragedies written long before they could read them. And at the root of it all, hunger.
Her eyes dimmed slightly. Even now, despite everything she knew, she still had no clear solution. She let out a quiet sigh.
Just then, a small voice pulled her back to the present, "Sister Shuying…" a boy no older than four asked hesitantly, clutching his candy. "Do you think we should run away? What if Li Xiaobao brings his grandmother here?"
Another girl nodded anxiously. "Yes… his grandmother is truly frightening."
Murmurs of agreement spread quickly. Several children glanced nervously toward the village path.
Then the eldest among them frowned, reluctant. "If we leave… what about our work points? Are we just going to abandon them?"
They shifted, torn between fear and necessity, unable to decide. Just then, a boy spoke up, his voice tentative but hopeful. "Then… should we go up the mountain?" he suggested. "I heard there's tall, green pig grass there. If we collect that, the pigs will surely like it and they'll grow fat faster."
At the mention of the mountain, the children's eyes lit up like sparks catching dry straw, "Up the hill… there's good grass up there, ah," one boy said eagerly, his voice rough with excitement. "Last time I seen it, tall, green, pigs'll grow fat on that."
But before the idea could settle, a timid little girl tugged at her sleeve, her face pale. "M...my mother says there's beasts up there," she murmured, her voice small and trembling. "Few years back, wild boar gored Uncle Su to death, he was a hunter, still died like that…"
Excitement drained instantly. The children shrank in on themselves, instinctively edging closer together. One by one, their gazes turned toward Li Shuying, the oldest among them.
Li Shuying froze for a brief moment, caught off guard by their silent expectation and hesitated. Taking a group of children into the mountain was no small matter. Even grown men tread carefully in those forests. But at the same time, the thought of facing the Li family's chaos again made her chest tighten with irritation.
Her fingers curled slightly, Then her eyes flickered. The weapons stored in her system space… enough to handle unexpected danger, if it came to that.
After a brief pause, she spoke, "We can go," she said steadily, her tone carrying a quiet authority. "But listen well, don't go deep into the mountain. Stay close. No running off on your own. If you get lost, even shouting won't bring you back. Understand?"
The children nodded vigorously.
"En, we'll listen, Sister Shuying!"
"We won't wander, promise!"
Their fear melted quickly, replaced by bubbling excitement. Whether it was because of the earlier incident, or the precious White Rabbit candies she had given them, whatever the reason, they trusted her.
Even the timid girl who had spoken of wild beasts now walked a little straighter, her earlier fear subdued by that trust.
Shitou Village lay cradled among mountains on three sides, with seven separate peaks rising around it. These mountains were evergreen, thick with life, and rich with resources, but also fraught with danger. Wild animals roamed freely within, and the deeper one ventured, the denser and more treacherous the forest became.
Thus, most villagers dared only to linger at the mountain's base, gathering wild vegetables, cutting firewood, collecting fodder for livestock.
But years of hardship had taken their toll. Since the difficult times began, the villagers had depended heavily on these mountains. Now, even the foothills bore signs of exhaustion, the once-plentiful growth stripped bare, the earth exposed and weary.
As they climbed, Li Shuying noticed the evidence everywhere. Vines that once bore edible greens now hung limp and empty. Fruit trees, which should have been heavy with autumn yield, stood barren.
They climbed a little further when suddenly a boy brightened and pointed ahead, "Oi, let's go temple way!" he said. "Last time I followed my grandpa up here, there's lots of pig grass growing there, nobody dares touch it much."
Li Shuying raised a brow. "There's a temple up here?"
"En!" the boy nodded vigorously. "Not far, just up a bit. Grandpa used to go burn incense there… but these past year, he don't go no more."
Li Shuying understood immediately. Since the campaigns against feudal superstition, such places had been publicly denounced. Temples and ancestral halls were closed, rituals discouraged, sometimes outright punished.
When they reached the temple grounds, however, Li Shuying halted in surprise. The place was not abandoned as she had expected.
Though worn by time, it still stood. The temple was small and weather-beaten, its tiled roof sagging slightly, edges chipped and uneven. Moss clung stubbornly to the cracks between the stones, and faded red paint peeled from the wooden pillars. The courtyard was uneven, patches of grass growing between broken flagstones, yet compared to the barren mountain below, it seemed almost… preserved.
And then she noticed, near the entrance, a small cluster of incense sticks had been recently burned, their ash still intact, faint traces of smoke scent lingering in the air.
Inside, the main hall was dim, lit only by thin shafts of sunlight filtering through gaps in the roof. A dusty altar stood at the far end, upon which sat a worn clay statue, its features softened by time, one arm chipped, its once-vivid colors now dulled into muted earth tones.
Yet despite the decay, there were signs of care. The altar had been wiped recently, cleaner than the surrounding surfaces. A small offering bowl sat at its base, containing a few dried sweet potatoes and two shriveled dates.
"So… even now, people still come to pray," she murmured under her breath.
Outside, the children had already scattered across the courtyard. Their laughter rang out, lively and unrestrained, as they bent to their work, hands moving quickly to gather the lush green fodder.
But Li Shuying remained standing at the temple entrance, her eyes lingering on the quiet traces of human faith that refused to disappear.
In a time when people claimed to have abandoned belief, some things it seemed, still endured.
Then Widow He's words from that morning surfaced in her mind, "Just because we pretend not to believe does not mean such things do not exist. In their hearts, everyone believes the same."
A faint smile touched Li Shuying's lips. She turned, ready to leave the temple, but her steps halted midway.
A thought flashed across her mind, sudden and sharp and she murmured, "What if…?"