The spluttering sound of broken grass groaned beneath Zhao Li's feet as she thundered across the uneven ground, desperately trying to keep up with Little Qing. "Little Qing, slow down!" she croaked, her voice raspy from exertion.
As hard as she tried, her lungs began to burn, unaccustomed to such strenuous activity. She attempted to breathe deeply to cool them, but it only made matters worse, her body rebelling against the unfamiliar strain.
Ahead, Little Qin effortlessly leapt over a fallen tree as though it were a mere pebble, then veered right along a winding path. Zhao Li felt the strain in her knees as she slowed her pace, clumsily hopping onto the tree trunk and jumping down with far less grace than her younger companion.
The moment her feet touched the ground, she looked up, watching helplessly as Little Qing's small form disappeared from view. The pathway leading back to the village snaked around a thick cluster of trees, swallowing him whole.
Frustration bubbled up inside Zhao Li as she complained under her breath, forcing her aching legs to keep moving. The chase was beginning to grate on her nerves. She was six, Little Qing only four... so why was he so much faster? "I should be faster!" she thought indignantly. "I'm older!"
The relentless pounding of her heart in her chest served as a constant reminder that each step she took was futile. As she ran, a nagging question wormed its way into her mind: why would Little Qing react this way? Had something happened to him? The answer remained elusive, so she shoved the thought to the back of her mind, determined to solve the mystery once she caught up with him.
Zhao Li focused intently on the sound of Little Qing's rapidly fading footsteps, straining to keep him within earshot as they delved deeper into the woods. In the distance, she could hear the faint murmur of a river, its gentle burbling a stark contrast to her own labored breathing.
Minutes stretched on like hours, and Zhao Li's pace slowed to a crawl as her energy drained away. She tried to will her body into another burst of speed, but her leaden limbs refused to cooperate.
Her lips grew increasingly parched with each passing second. Finally admitting defeat, she dropped to her knees, wincing as blades of grass and fallen branches dug into her skin. She became acutely aware of the pain in both knees, a testament to her reckless pursuit.
The thunderous pounding of her heart felt like a hammer in her chest, each beat reverberating through her entire body. She gasped for air, hoping to slow her racing pulse and cool her burning lungs, but the effort only intensified her thirst. Her lips, now pale and cracked, felt like sandpaper.
In a desperate attempt to find relief, she scraped her tongue against her bottom teeth, sucking what little saliva she could muster from the crevices of her mouth. She rolled the meager amount of moisture around her lips, but the respite was fleeting. Her thirst remained unquenched, a constant, nagging presence.
Exhausted beyond measure, Zhao Li flopped onto the ground, her gaze drawn upward. She tried to focus on the sky above, but found her view obscured by a canopy of leaves. The overarching branches hung low, their foliage swaying gently in the breeze, providing a modicum of shade and comfort.
For a few precious moments, Zhao Li allowed herself to be lulled by the peaceful rustling of leaves. It was a welcome reprieve, especially after the torment she had endured at the hands of Shun and his friends.
As she lay there, catching her breath, Zhao Li's mind wandered to earlier events. She berated herself, thinking that if only she had tried harder to learn Jianzi, none of this would have happened. Little Qing wouldn't be in tears, and she wouldn't be lying here, alone and frustrated in the middle of the forest.
Anger and sorrow began to well up inside her, threatening to spill over. She balled her fists, fighting to keep her emotions in check. "Why must they treat me like this?" she thought bitterly. "I hate it. I hate all of them. I wish they would all just..."
She couldn't finish the thought. Tears began to flow freely from her eyes, and a deep, aching sorrow took root in her soul. Zhao Li yearned for acceptance, for the simple joy of playing without judgment or ridicule. She longed to be loved by everyone, not just her father. But most of all, Zhao Li desperately wanted a friend.
With a trembling hand, she rubbed the tears from her eyes, refusing to let another drop fall. "I can't stay here," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. "Little Qing needs me."
Summoning what little strength remained, Zhao Li pushed herself off the ground. Every muscle in her body protested, aching from the strain of her earlier exertion. She tilted her head back, allowing the scattered rays of sunlight filtering through the leaves to warm her face. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and set off down the dirt path leading back to the village.
The pathway twisted and turned, each bend seeming to mock her determination. But after the eighth turn, a sound caught her attention – soft sobs carried on the breeze, coming from somewhere to her right. Without hesitation, Zhao Li veered off the path, following the heart-wrenching sound.
As the sobs grew louder, she finally spotted Little Qing. He was curled up on the ground, hugging himself tightly, his small body shaking with each sob. The sight of him in such a vulnerable state made Zhao Li's heart ache. She had never seen him like this before; the only expression Little Qing had ever shown her was one of happiness. To see him crying was a shock to her system.
Ignoring the protest of her scraped knees, Zhao Li knelt beside him and wrapped her arms around his trembling form. Little Qing initially resisted, trying to push her away. "Stop! Leave me alone!" he shouted, his voice thick with tears. But Zhao Li only hugged him tighter, refusing to let go.
She wasn't entirely sure what to do, but she knew from her own experiences of crying herself to sleep that she had always wished for someone to hold her just like this. Little Qing's resistance gradually weakened, and eventually, he returned her embrace, his tears flowing freely.
Zhao Li held Little Qing close, letting him cry without judgment or interruption. Though she didn't know the cause of his distress, she sensed that what he needed most in that moment was her presence and comfort.
After what felt like an eternity, Little Qing's sobs began to subside. He slowly pulled away from Zhao Li, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he tried to compose himself. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice still shaky and uncertain. "I didn't mean to cry like that."
Zhao Li shook her head, offering him a gentle smile. "It's okay," she assured him. "You don't have to be sorry. I cry too, sometimes."
Little Qing looked up at her, his eyes red and puffy from crying. "It hurts," he said softly, his words barely above a whisper. "Promises being broken..."
Zhao Li felt her heart melt at the pain in Little Qing's voice. "I'm sorry if I reminded you of a bad memory," she said, her tone filled with genuine concern.
"It's not a bad memory," Little Qing replied, his brow furrowing slightly. "It's just that my Da..."
"What about Un—" Zhao Li began, but Little Qing cut her off.
"Forget it," he said, his voice suddenly firmer. "Father said boys don't cry."
Little Qing's words left Zhao Li speechless. She had never heard such a notion before, and the more she thought about it, the less sense it made. Everyone cries! she thought to herself. The idea of suppressing such a natural emotion seemed not only impossible but harmful.
To Zhao Li, crying had always made her feel powerless, and being powerless was something she despised with every fiber of her being. I want to become strong, she thought fervently. So strong that no one would ever dare treat me badly again!
She pushed her own feelings of powerlessness aside, focusing instead on Little Qing and how bravely he had defended her earlier. This isn't about me right now, she reminded herself. It's about him.
Though Little Qing wasn't physically strong, he had shown incredible courage in standing up for Zhao Li. The memory of how he had pushed back against Shun's unfairness brought a smile to her face. She didn't just like it – she loved it.
Impulsively, Zhao Li pulled Little Qing into another hug, resting her chin atop his head. A pleasant shiver ran down her arms as she thought about how kind he had been to her, how willing he was to stand up to Shun on her behalf. "Thank you, Little Qing," she said softly, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.
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Confused by her sudden display of affection, Little Qing tried to move his head, but Zhao Li's embrace held him firmly in place. He glanced up, noticing the smile that had crept onto her face. "Sister Thi?" he asked, his tone uncertain.
"You defended me when you didn't have to..." Zhao Li explained, her voice trailing off as she struggled to express the depth of her appreciation.
"My Da told me it's a man's job to protect his wife!" Little Qing declared with childish conviction.
"Wife?" Zhao Li repeated, caught off guard by his statement.
"Yes, I'm going to marry Sister Thi!" Little Qing affirmed, his earlier distress seemingly forgotten in light of this new declaration.
Zhao Li felt her face flush, not from shyness, but from a confusing mix of emotions she couldn't quite name. As she looked into Little Qing's eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity, which only intensified the warmth spreading across her cheeks. She released him from the hug, suddenly aware of how flustered she felt. Why am I so hot? she wondered. I don't understand!
Little Qing smiled at her, his gaze unwavering. Zhao Li found herself shying away, offering a timid smile in return. He took a step back, then turned to leave. "Sister Thi... I am serious," he said, his voice filled with determination. "I want to marry you. It's okay to say no today – my Da said you have to win a woman's heart. I haven't won yours yet, but I will."
With that, he began walking back toward the pathway. He paused, turning back to look at her one last time, his eyes shining with resolve. "You don't have to follow me back. I'm fine now," he assured her.
Zhao Li stood rooted to the spot, watching in stunned silence as Little Qing disappeared into the trees. Her mind whirled with confusion. She had inadvertently reminded him of something painful, yet he had been brave enough to show her his tears – tears that had dried up so quickly.
As the sound of Little Qing's footsteps faded away, one thing became crystal clear to Zhao Li: he was the first boy to ever say something like that to her... and despite her confusion, she found that she loved it.
The tranquility of the forest enveloped Zhao Li once more, offering her the peace she so often sought when the village became too much to bear. She remained where she stood, allowing the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant burbling of the river to soothe her racing thoughts.
Her mind drifted to the villagers of Purple Mist Village, who never truly acknowledged her existence. They treated her like a pariah, their disdain palpable in their silence – at least when her father wasn't around. During his visits, they would champion him as if he were a savior, their treatment of Zhao Li becoming sickeningly pretentious.
She hated their two-faced nature, but not as much as she hated her stepmother. The more she dwelled on thoughts of that woman, the more anger bubbled up inside her. I never did anything wrong! Zhao Li thought bitterly. Why did she treat me that way?
Seeking comfort, Zhao Li hugged herself tightly and sat down beneath a towering tree. Its branches swayed gently overhead, leaves swishing peacefully in the breeze. But the serenity of her surroundings did little to quell the anger simmering within her.
Almost unconsciously, Zhao Li reached up to touch her left cheek, fingers probing the spot where a lump had formed after her stepmother's strike. "It hurts," she whispered, though the physical pain had long since faded. What remained was a deeper, more lasting ache – one that no amount of time in the peaceful forest could fully heal.
As Zhao Li sat there, lost in her tumultuous thoughts, she finally made a decision. Pushing herself off the ground, she dusted off her clothes with a determined set to her jaw. "Fine," she said softly, her voice barely audible even to herself. "I'll try one more time."
With renewed purpose, she made her way back to the pathway and set off toward the village. The few villagers she encountered along the way jeered at her as she passed, their taunts following her like persistent shadows. At least they didn't throw salt at her, she thought grimly, remembering the cruel, secretive actions of those in Purple Mist Village.
As Zhao Li continued her journey through the forest, she found her spirits lifting despite the earlier unpleasantness. Dappled sunlight filtered through the canopy, painting the ground with an ever-shifting tapestry of light and shadow. On a whim, she decided to take a more leisurely route, veering off toward the old watermill on the far side of the woods.
The deeper she ventured into the forest, the taller the trees grew, their massive trunks stretching skyward like ancient pillars. The underbrush thickened, forcing Zhao Li to push her way through branches and vines. She remembered how Grandpa Jun had once cleared such a path for her, but now she relished the small adventure of forging ahead on her own.
After what felt like hours of trekking through the dense foliage, Zhao Li finally caught sight of the watermill in the distance. Her pace quickened, eager to see the old structure up close once more.
The sound of rushing water filled the air, growing louder with each step. A sense of wonder and peace washed over Zhao Li, sending pleasant shivers across her skin. The beauty of the scene before her was almost overwhelming.
The watermill itself was a testament to time – old and weathered, yet possessing a rustic charm that captivated her. She circled the structure slowly, drinking in every detail, from the creaky wooden blades to the moss-covered stones that formed its sturdy foundation.
Lost in her observations, Zhao Li was startled by a rustling noise behind her. She spun around to find a small rabbit regarding her with curious eyes. A smile tugged at her lips as the creature twitched its nose, nibbled briefly on a blade of grass, then turned and hopped back into the undergrowth, apparently unimpressed by her presence.
Turning her attention back to the watermill, Zhao Li approached the door and pushed it open. The hinges creaked in protest, and the rhythmic churning of gears within filled her ears. Yet even this mechanical symphony couldn't overpower the soothing splash of water all around her.
A slightly sweet scent wafted through the air, making Zhao Li's mouth water. She licked her lips, suddenly aware of how thirsty she had become during her forest trek.
Following the enticing aroma, Zhao Li made her way up a rickety staircase to the mill's upper floor. There, she found the source of the scent – dozens of sacks filled with freshly ground flour lay scattered about the room, with the grinding stone itself dominating the left side of the space.
An idea began to form in Zhao Li's mind as she approached the nearest sack of flour. Noticing one at the back was already open, she carefully picked her way through the room. As she reached the open sack, a mischievous glint appeared in her eye. I'll cover myself completely this time, she thought. Maybe that will work!
With childish enthusiasm, Zhao Li shrugged off her robes, not caring that they became dusted with flour in the process. Clad only in her undergarments, she plunged her hands into the open sack, relishing the soft, powdery texture of the flour between her fingers.
Slowly, methodically, Zhao Li began to coat herself in the white powder. She started with her hands, then moved to her shoulders, chest, and stomach. Frowning at the stubbornly visible patches of her natural skin tone, she dipped her hands into the flour once more, determined to cover every inch of herself.
As she worked, a sense of relief washed over her unlike anything she had ever experienced. For the first time in her young life, Zhao Li felt as though she might finally blend in – that people would look at her and see someone just like them, rather than a strange outsider to be feared or mocked.
As Zhao Li sat there, she finally pushed herself off the ground and dusted her clothes off. "Fine," She said softly, "I'll try one more time."
She made her way back to the pathway and made her way to the village. The few villagers that saw her jeered at her when she passed, at least they didn't throw salt at her whilst she passed like they secretly did in the Purple Mist Village.
As Zhao Li walked through the forest, the sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the ground with light and shadow. She had decided to take a leisurely walk to the watermill on the other side of the woods, just to enjoy the tranquility of the forest.
She took in the sights and sounds of the forest around her. She heard the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves in the wind, and she felt at peace.
The deeper she went into the woods, the taller the trees were whilst the underbrush grew thicker. Forcing her to push through branches and vines, something Grandpa Jun had done for her, still...she enjoyed the adventure.
After what felt like hours, she finally saw the watermill in the distance. She quickened her pace, eager to see it up close.
The sound of rushing water filled the air, and the sense of wonder and peace sent goosebumps frolicking across her skin, enamoured by the beauty of the sound.
The watermill was old and rustic, but it had a certain charm that captivated her. She walked around the mill, taking in every detail, from the creaky wooden blades to the mossy stones that made up the foundation.
Lost in thought, as she watched the creaky wooden blades rotate a rustling noise behind her caught her attention. She turned around and saw a small rabbit, looking up at her with curious eyes.
She smiled at the rabbit and it twitched its head at her before nibbling on a piece of grass before turning around and squandering back into the forest, not caring for Zhao Li's smile.
Zhao Li walked up to the door of the watermill and pushed it open. The door creaked open and the sound of the gears churning in conundrum groaned into her ears. The splashing sound of the water around her still sounded as soothing as it could be.
A slightly sweet scent floundered into her nose, drying her Zhao Li lips. She smacked her lips together and scrapped her tongue against her teeth once more and felt the water flood from her tongue once more.
She walked toward the staircase in front of her, following the scent of the flour. As she made it to the top flour, the grinder sat on the left of the room whilst dozens of sacks of flour lay on the ground.
Zhao Li smiled and walked towards the closest sack of flour. A sack at the back was already open, so she sithed through the sacks making her way towards it. She dipped her hands in the bag, then caught herself in thought. I'll get it all over me this time, maybe that will work!
She took off her robes, getting flour on all of them, but was too excited to care. Once her robes were off, she made her way back to the sack and dipped her hand into the flour sack.
The soft powdery substance felt like a feather in her hands and she rubbed it together, feeling bits fall back into the sack.
Zhao Li slowly began rubbing the flour against her hands, shoulders, chest and stomach. As she looked at her stomach, she realise she could still see the puce colour of her skin.
She re-dipped her hand in the flour and rubbed the flour on her stomach till it was white as chalk, then she bent down and rubbed her thighs, knees and feet until it was completely white.
Relief washed over her, like none ever before. This was the first time she felt as though people wouldn't look at her funny, nor call her a demoness because she looked like everyone and everyone looked like her!
Zhao Li twirled, spun and danced around the room, feeling exhilarated. Thoughts of how everyone would finally accept her filled her with joy. "They'll teach me Jianzi now!" She said aloud.
A loud thud echoed behind her, forcing Zhao Li to stop. She turned around, heart in the bottom of her throat. Her eyes lit up with happiness and sprinted across the ground, not caring about her lack of clothes.
Her lips curled into a smile and she leapt into the air, waiting for the long embrace she'd been craving for so long. "Daddy!"