Volume One, Chapter Three: A Single Word Stirs a Thousand Waves

Liu Qiaohui’s brows were tightly furrowed, her eyes fixed intently on Ye Ling nestled in the basket.

“Miss Liu, I’m telling you, you can’t keep a child with bad luck. Especially in times like these, raising a child is no easy task. If anything happens, it could cost lives!” Li Gaia, with genuine concern, was the first to speak to Liu Qiaohui.

Soon, many others chimed in, some even elevating the matter to a grave level.

“Exactly, village head! A child with bad luck isn’t something to joke about, especially in these harsh times—when families are starving. Life is already tough enough for us. If that child brings misfortune to our village, we’re doomed!”

Their words stirred a storm of emotion.

The village head found their argument compelling. Without waiting for Liu Qiaohui’s reply, he spoke again, this time commanding rather than requesting: “Liu Qiaohui, hand the child back. Tomorrow I will bring another one from the county for you!”

It was expected that timid Liu Qiaohui would have no grounds to object.

But to everyone’s surprise, Liu Qiaohui, as if summoned by an unknown courage, refused outright without even turning back. She strode away resolutely.

“No, village head. I will raise this child myself!”

Though the villagers murmured after her, Liu Qiaohui heard none of it. From the moment she first laid eyes on this child, she knew in her heart—this child was her daughter.

Carrying the basket, Liu Qiaohui returned to her home.

Ye Ling noticed that although Liu Qiaohui’s yard appeared dilapidated, it was a compound with three courtyards and six rooms, quite grand in appearance.

Despite the swirling snowflakes, the yard was remarkably clean, and there were few neighbors nearby, lending a quiet serenity.

Yet, upon entering the house, the worn-out furniture told Ye Ling a harsh truth: though fortunate to be alive, survival was precarious and starvation loomed.

Ah, how merciless fate was!

In such dire straits, could she truly survive?

Wailing softly…

Ye Ling heard the clear cry of a child and saw another lying on the bed.

This child seemed older, able to stand and walk, albeit unsteadily, swaying as he sought Liu Qiaohui’s embrace.

Liu Qiaohui gently placed Ye Ling on the threadbare bed, barely cushioned with any bedding, and scooped the little boy into her arms.

“Oh, little one, don’t cry. Mommy brought you a little sister. From now on, you have a sister. When you grow up, you must take good care of her.”

The boy seemed to understand, his dark eyes immediately turning to look at Ye Ling.

Oh my!

Ye Ling had never seen such a filthy child.

His face smeared with tears and snot, his skin darkened with grime, his frail body little more than skin and bones—is this to be her brother?

The boy babbled twice and wobbled toward her. Ye Ling, starving and weak, couldn’t bear the touch and burst into tears, tears flowing freely.

“Oh, darling, don’t cry, don’t cry!”

Ye Ling kept crying—she was so hungry! Truly hungry, hungrier than ever before.

“Is it wetting?” Liu Qiaohui unfolded the swaddling, finding the child clean and dry. Then it dawned on her—the child was hungry.

But she had no milk to feed her.

Determined to nourish the child on her first day, Liu Qiaohui bundled Ye Ling tightly and set the boy back on the bed, kissing his cheek.

“Little one, stay here and be good. Mommy’s going out to find food. Mommy will be back soon, okay?”

For the first time, the boy nodded slightly.

Amid the heavy snowfall, Ye Ling, cradled in Liu Qiaohui’s arms, felt no cold at all.

“Li family’s girl, are you home?”

Footsteps trudged through the snow. Inside, the oil lamp flickered brightly.

Just as Liu Qiaohui lifted the door curtain and stepped inside, the two women inside cast her disdainful glances.

“Sister Huizhen, what do you want with me?”

Ignoring their scorn, Liu Qiaohui, though feeling timid, spoke up: “Sister, my child is hungry. Your baby is just born and can’t drink much milk yet. Could you please help feed her for now? I’ll bring you two jin of beans tomorrow. How about that?”

Before Li’s daughter-in-law could reply, Li Chengdu intervened sharply: “What do you mean, Liu Qiaohui? My baby is small and naturally drinks little milk. Honestly, you shouldn’t have come today. Your child is said to bring bad luck. No matter how much milk my wife has, we won’t risk feeding it to your child. Enough said. Let’s go. Don’t ever come here with that child again—I’m afraid I can’t handle it!”

With one push after another, Liu Qiaohui was almost forced out of the yard.

Ye Ling wanted to stop crying, but hunger was unbearable.

One family after another treated them like this.

Liu Qiaohui felt she was close to begging on her knees if not for Li Gaia’s pity. Half-reluctantly, Li Gaia invited her in and pressed a bowl of goat’s milk into Ye Ling’s hands.

Otherwise, Ye Ling would have had nothing but tears.

Gulp.

Gulp.

Ye Ling never knew that desperate hunger could be so deadly.

“Look at this child—so handsome!”

Under the dim kerosene lamp, Ye Ling’s pale face seemed even more striking.

Li Gaia shifted closer to Liu Qiaohui, lowering her voice: “Sister, are you really determined to keep this child?”

Liu Qiaohui glanced at Ye Ling, who might eat today but starve tomorrow, and nodded calmly.

“Sister-in-law, I understand what you mean. But if I return her, she might not survive. Besides, I feel a bond with her.”

“Ah, she must be lucky to have met someone as kind as you! So what are your plans now? I’m telling you, after you leave, the villagers have been talking about making you send the child back.”