The first time Chi Wu saw Cheng Ying, she was thin as a little slip of a girl, her hair the straw-dry yellow of withered thatch, and her face so dark you couldn't discern any color at all. Moreover, Cheng Ying mingled with a pack of village children, making it impossible to distinguish her from the stepmother's offspring.

To Chi Wu at the time, she was merely a young imp. The village wives gossiped endlessly, and Chi Wu overheard every version of stepmother abuse and the friction between children of different mothers. Unfortunately, his father had told him that their future lives, no matter what, would be better than their present circumstances, urging Chi Wu to be more accommodating toward Cheng Ying. If the two of them hadn't moved in with Ao, they might not have survived that winter. That was their predicament.

Chi Wu had read many books with his father; though it was mostly his father speaking and him listening, he was still different from the other village boys.

So, Chi Wu understood his situation as bearing humiliation for a greater purpose. He even felt he might be comparable to Goujian, enduring hardship to achieve ultimate revenge. Therefore, Chi Wu avoided Cheng Ying whenever possible, never formally crossing paths with her.

Chi Wu reasoned that engaging with a mere child while he was practicing forbearance would be utterly unwise. He knew he would suffer a loss. He and his father were isolated against an entire family.

A child’s mind is heavy with thought. Though he secretly disapproved of the old Madam Cheng's excessive spoiling of Cheng Ying, he never showed it openly. Yet, in his heart, he looked down on Cheng Ying entirely.

But he couldn't recall when it started—Cheng Ying changed. At least, in Chi Wu's eyes, Cheng Ying changed. At some unknown point, the child began to dress neatly, no longer playing with the village children. Especially when Cheng Ying extended her hand, the fairness and delicate smoothness of it made even Chi Wu feel inferior.

This was the first time Chi Wu truly observed Cheng Ying properly. Perhaps this was the difference between boys and girls.

Chi Wu watched Cheng Ying from the shadows. A girl growing up seemed to happen in an instant, in the blink of an eye, Cheng Ying had blossomed into a young woman. Yesterday, in Chi Wu's memory, she was playing cavalry games with a bunch of grubby kids; today, she was clean and tidy, helping with the fire inside.

Back then, Chi Wu thought all girls were magical. When had the former Cheng Ying ever helped him with chores? Now, she was even helping him tend the fire, and she had even saved him half a bowl of porridge. Though half a bowl might seem negligible, for Chi Wu, it was enough to stave off hunger for half a day. From that moment, Chi Wu felt a closeness with Cheng Ying that surpassed that with his own brothers; they were the true siblings.

Later, when wolves threatened the village, Cheng Ying dragged him nearly halfway across the settlement. Only then did Chi Wu realize how utterly timid the girl was, and how little she cared for the collective spirit.

Chi Wu felt that his nascent, tentative good impressions of women had been utterly shattered by that incident.

Looking at Cheng Ying afterward, he thought the girl was selfish, nothing but a menace.

However, Cheng Ying was oblivious to his scorn; she always lingered near him, even willing to talk to him. Chi Wu suspected the girl was simply afraid he would reveal her lack of communal spirit.

Chi Wu considered Cheng Ying petty. Regarding their relationship, even if Chi Wu wanted to speak out, he dared not. In those days, denouncing one person often meant implicating the entire family.

Nevertheless, from that time on, Chi Wu subconsciously began washing his hands and trimming his nails—simply because he loved watching the clean, delicate look of Cheng Ying’s small hands. Chi Wu even secretly compared them to other girls' hands. Only Cheng Ying's hands were so refined, so fair.

In Chi Wu's view, Cheng Ying was selfish in every way, completely uncommitted to the collective. He even saw her secretly tearing down the village's public bulletin board. But Chi Wu dared not speak of it, for fear of being denounced by the village.

Later, during the New Year festivities, Chi Wu and Cheng Ying were catching fish by the river. Chi Wu knew they shouldn't secretly bring fish home, but Cheng Ying insisted, and for some inexplicable reason, Chi Wu willingly followed her lead. The act was wrong, yes, but their stomachs truly needed filling.

When he saw half of Cheng Ying’s body plunge into the river, Chi Wu’s mind went blank. Alongside the fear of adult reprimand, there was a profound dread of seeing Cheng Ying’s fair hands submerged. Chi Wu, a mere youth of fifteen, didn't understand what infatuation was, but he already held an unforgettable, vivid memory of Cheng Ying’s hands.

Even in that moment of panic, Chi Wu noticed the hand Cheng Ying used to grip the net—it was translucent, faintly blue, matching the color of the icy river water. At that instant, Chi Wu thought that under no circumstances could he let those hands freeze; it was too cold.

Later, his father pulled Cheng Ying out. Knowing she was safe, Chi Wu quickly hid the few fish before anyone noticed. It was the first time Chi Wu had done anything like this; he felt his gall bladder seize up. He dared not return to the village, fearing discovery, but then he remembered Cheng Ying had nearly sacrificed her life for these few fish, and he calmed down.

After hiding the catch, he returned home only to find Cheng Ying suffering from a severe headache. Seeing the cold indifference of the family, Chi Wu felt burning resentment. What kind of family was this? Wasn't Yingzi’s life more important than money? With all the accumulated work points they had, couldn't they pay for a doctor for Yingzi?

Chi Wu, eyes stinging, asked Chi Yong, "Can we use the family's work points to treat Yingzi?"

At that moment, Chi Yong merely sighed.

Watching Cheng Ying suffer, Chi Wu’s heart ached terribly, especially hearing her cries. He vowed then that he must become wealthy, at least wealthy enough to afford medical care for Yingzi.

Later, when the discussion of dividing the property arose, Chi Wu saw his father cast a strange glance at Yingzi, but his father gripped Chi Wu’s hand tighter and tighter. If Cheng Ying’s headache hadn't been so severe, Chi Wu might have welcomed the split. At least if the household only contained the less severe stepmother and Cheng Ying, his and his father’s lives would be easier.

Then the division actually happened. Chi Yong even handed over the money the two of them usually kept tucked away to Cheng Ying. Chi Wu felt that this was a real family. However, money proved less useful than grain. Though they were considered wealthy in the village, he and his father never ate their fill. They lacked sufficient grain, and villagers were reluctant to trade grain for their money.

Chi Wu also knew that Chi Yong was reluctant to leave the village.

The day Cheng Ying went to the city was the hardest for Chi Wu to endure. He tended the sheep near the village entrance, stretching his neck to gaze down the road leading out of the village the entire day until it ached, but Cheng Ying did not return.

Chi Wu was not immune to disappointment. He wondered how Cheng Ying, who had been in such pain yesterday, was faring now. Although their branch of the family had nothing left, Chi Wu had eaten his fill that morning—that was the benefit of the division. He could feel the porridge sloshing in his stomach as he walked, a feeling he had never experienced before, and it was all thanks to Cheng Ying.

Chi Wu sincerely hoped Cheng Ying would return safe and sound. It wasn't until the morning of the day after next that Chi Wu learned they were back, bringing many things with them.

Chi Wu was overjoyed, though he never imagined any of those things would be for him. When the old lady handed Chi Wu a pair of new trousers, he was utterly bewildered. His father’s marriage had truly ruined him. The village aunties who spoke of the stepmother mistreating the children must have been lying, deliberately wishing ill upon her.

Though the family lived frugally, they could at least eat their fill. Chi Wu’s favorite thing was going out alone with Cheng Ying because she always managed to find food for him.

Chi Wu believed Cheng Ying was blessed. Even if the corn cobs they roasted outside were small, and the potatoes no bigger than a thumbnail, roasting a pile together was enough for them to be barely satisfied, and the feeling of truly filling one's stomach, rather than just having it slosh around, was a genuine comfort. Cheng Ying insisted Chi Wu never take anything home.

Chi Wu felt guilty toward his father. Cheng Ying offered a sound reason: "These things grow in the ground; what grows in the ground belongs to the collective. Collective things, we can just steal a little to eat ourselves. We can't let our family members be unpatriotic. If you feel bad about it, then just drink a little of the porridge dregs at home, leaving a little extra for the adults."

Chi Wu thought it was a viable solution, and he genuinely feared being caught taking collective property.

He was bamboozled by Cheng Ying like this for several months, until the Great Collective finally disbanded.

Chi Wu thought about returning to the fields with Cheng Ying to search for more potatoes and corn cobs, hoping they might now belong to their family, but they never found any again.

Chi Wu carried that regret with him always.

When the Great Collective dissolved, the thing Chi Wu regretted most was the village sheep. He lamented that their household lacked enough work points to buy one. The most precious items Chi Wu owned were the trousers the old lady had given him, and the padded cotton coat stuffed with wool that came with it. The rest were the socks Cheng Ying knitted for him; those socks were his most valuable possessions.

He wondered how Cheng Ying’s mind worked; so many people had seen the raw wool, yet only Cheng Ying managed to transform it into socks.

Chi Wu found Cheng Ying miraculous, more marvelous than any village girl. Moreover, in Chi Wu’s eyes, Cheng Ying was beautiful, even more so than the newly wedded wife of the Village Chief. Chi Wu imagined that if the Village Chief’s sister-in-law wore her fine clothes on Cheng Ying, she would look even lovelier. Chi Wu felt he would never see anyone more beautiful than Cheng Ying again.

This feeling stayed with Chi Wu his entire life. He truly never saw anyone more beautiful than Cheng Ying.

In Chi Wu's estimation, Cheng Ying taught him many things: how not to go hungry, how to keep money in his pocket, how to behave so others would speak well of him, and perhaps most profoundly, how what one thought internally could be completely different from what one showed externally. These were the things that struck Chi Wu as magical; there was a whole discipline called Hou Hei (The Art of Political Manipulation).

Chi Wu felt Cheng Ying considered him her closest kin because she told him this knowledge would never be shared outside the family, reserved only for those surnamed Cheng.

At the time, Chi Wu was delighted, because Cheng Ying treated him as one of her own. What Chi Wu didn't realize was that from that moment on, perhaps the future of him becoming a Zhaoguye (a son-in-law who marries into the bride's family) was already foreshadowed. R1152