Chapter 1: People Are Trading Children for Food Now?

In the eighth year of Yongjia, a locust plague broke out beyond the northern borders. The farmlands yielded nothing—not a single grain.

To make matters worse, an earthquake struck after the autumn harvest, leveling many villages and towns.

Families had no food, the people were in misery. In order to survive the harsh winter and not freeze or starve to death, they had no choice but to flee with their entire households, desperately seeking a way to live.

As night approached, those who had been traveling all day began to settle down wherever they could find shelter.

Madam Ye, the eldest sister-in-law of the Ye Family, was just about to prepare dinner with her sisters-in-law when she suddenly heard the sharp sound of willow branches lashing and a child’s weak sobbing coming from not far away.

She turned toward the noise and, as expected, it was that same woman from the Shan Village, Madam Shan, beating her daughter Qingtian again.

“You little brat! You’ve got some nerve, haven’t you? Stealing food now!”

“What next? Planning to fly up to the heavens?”

The more Madam Shan scolded, the angrier she became. Her strikes grew harder, paying no mind to whether Qingtian’s frail body could even withstand such punishment.

Qingtian knelt on the dirt road, the gravel beneath her knees digging in painfully—but even that didn’t compare to the sting of the willow switch landing on her back again and again.

She had truly been too hungry just now. Unable to resist, she’d grabbed a few kernels of dry, hard corn.

But before the grains had even softened in her mouth, before her saliva could moisten them, Madam Shan had already caught her.

“We’re all fleeing famine—who isn’t hungry? You think you’re the only one starving? That little half-sack of corn is all we have left, and it’s for my son!”

“Didn’t I already give you wild grass to eat today? And you still dared to steal corn? You really must be tired of living!”

“I must’ve been cursed for eight lifetimes to be stuck raising a worthless money-draining burden like you!”

Qingtian could barely stay on her knees, but she didn’t dare move.

Her head was spinning badly, and her whole body ached.

Just a few days ago, when the earthquake struck, her small, frail body had shielded her younger brother. Her own head was smashed open, leaving a bloody gash.

When Madam Shan came over and saw blood on her son, she didn’t even stop to ask what had happened. She slapped Qingtian hard across the face and pushed her aside, crying while frantically checking if her son was hurt.

Only after seeing that her son was unharmed did Madam Shan haphazardly grab a handful of incense ash and press it onto Qingtian’s wound to stop the bleeding.

Now, the emaciated Qingtian lay face-down on the ground, her sobs much softer than before.

Madam Ye had tried to hold it in, but in the end, she couldn’t:
“Madam Shan, we’ve all come this far escaping famine—who isn’t hungry? The child only ate a few kernels of dry corn. Was it really necessary to beat her like you’re trying to kill her?”

“Well, well, who do we have here—some living Bodhisattva come to save the day?” Madam Shan placed her hands on her hips and glared over. “Oh, it’s you, Madam Ye from the elder Ye family! Since you’re so kind-hearted, why don’t you take her home and raise her yourself? Talking big with that sharp tongue of yours—easy to preach when you’re not the one starving!”

Seeing that the two were about to argue, the Second Sister-in-law of the Ye Family quickly stepped in and pulled Madam Ye aside, whispering, “Sister-in-law, that family is nothing but trouble. Better to avoid unnecessary drama!”

Madam Ye let out a heavy sigh. “Still, how could a mother be so cruel?”
She had no children of her own, and she’d always been envious watching other people raise theirs. She simply couldn’t bear to see a child being beaten like this.

Second Sister-in-law also looked helpless and sighed, “She’s not her real child—that’s why she doesn’t feel any love.”

Everyone in the village knew that Qingtian wasn’t the biological daughter of the Shans.

Madam Shan had been married for over ten years without bearing a child. One day, Shan Laoda was fishing in the river and hauled up a bamboo basket—inside was a newborn baby, clean and fair-skinned.

Shan Laoda decided to take the child home and raise her. He even went around telling everyone that she was a gift from the heavens, a reward from the gods for all their accumulated good deeds.

Ever since they found Qingtian, the Shan family’s fortune had steadily improved. The couple treated her well—at first.

But a few years later, as fate would have it, the heavens seemed to play a cruel joke—Madam Shan suddenly became pregnant and gave birth to a chubby, healthy boy.

From the moment she conceived, Qingtian’s luck turned.

She was no longer fed regularly, often going hungry, and the beatings and scoldings became frequent.

At just about four years old, she was worked like a mule. She had to go out and dig up wild vegetables, and at home, she was made to feed the chickens, feed the pigs, and take care of the baby.

The pig slop bucket was nearly as tall as she was. Qingtian could only carry half a bucket at most, stumbling and staggering every step of the way.

If she ever tripped and spilled it, a round of punches and kicks awaited her immediately.

Back in the village, Madam Ye had often pitied Qingtian and would secretly slip her a bit of food.

But now, with no end to this famine in sight, even the Ye family—young and old, a whole large household—was struggling with limited rations.

And with the Shan couple constantly watching, Madam Ye no longer dared to help Qingtian.

Little Qingtian’s head injury hadn’t even healed, yet she still had to take care of her younger brother and carry food supplies on her back. During mealtime, all she got was a bit of tree bark and wild grass. She was so hungry, she even stared at the dirt on the ground, tempted to grab a handful and shove it into her mouth.

But in the eyes of the Shan couple, only their son mattered now. They never stopped to consider that Qingtian was still just a four-year-old child.

Madam Ye sighed and said, “At least they haven’t abandoned her. That’s something, I suppose—means they still have a sliver of conscience left.”

“Hush, don’t say any more. Her husband’s coming,” Madam Ye’s sister-in-law quickly pulled her aside when she saw Shan Laoda approaching.

The moment Madam Shan saw her husband, she hurried up to greet him. “Did you manage to find any wild vegetables?”

“Wild vegetables, my ass! There’s not even a single blade of wild grass left out there!” Shan Laoda, a burly, broad-shouldered man with a brutish face, grunted. “But I got lucky. Found a tree that hadn’t been stripped bare yet and peeled off a good amount of tender bark. Add in a few corn kernels, boil it together—good enough to get by.”

The moment she heard the words “corn kernels,” Madam Shan’s barely-cooled temper flared right back up. She fumed, “Corn kernels, huh? If I hadn’t caught her in time, that damned little brat would’ve eaten up the whole stash already!”

“Father… Mother… I was just too hungry…”

Qingtian wanted to explain, but she no longer had the strength to speak.

All she could do was curl up as tightly as possible, silently hoping her Father would go easy on her this time.

But today, Shan Laoda was uncharacteristically calm. He didn’t strike her. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and muttered, “Forget it. It’s not like we’ll be feeding her much longer anyway.” Then, without another word, he grabbed Qingtian like she was a sack of potatoes and walked off.

Madam Ye watched with growing unease, worried that Shan Laoda was planning to abandon the child in a ravine to starve.

After hesitating for a moment, she handed over the cooking duties to her sister-in-law and quietly followed him.

As Shan Laoda walked farther and farther away from the camp, Madam Ye kept her distance. Before long, she saw him meeting up with a shifty-eyed man.

She quickly ducked behind a dead tree to stay hidden.

That man was also holding a little girl in his arms—thin and small, curled up motionless as if she were asleep.

The moment the man saw Qingtian, he frowned in disgust and muttered, “She’s way too skinny. Not an ounce of meat on her!”

Shan Laoda scoffed, “We’re all fleeing famine. What kid still has meat on their bones these days?”

“My girl’s still better than yours,” Shan Laoda grunted.

The man holding the child scoffed, “Mine hasn’t even stopped breathing yet—much fresher than yours! Who knows how long that one of yours has been half-dead!”

“That’s not the point,” Shan Laoda snapped impatiently. “Didn’t I tell you she’s still breathing? You think I’m lying to you?”

“Don’t twist my words!” the man said anxiously. “I told you—she just died today! Would I lie about something like that?”

Shan Laoda scowled. “Enough with the nonsense. Are we trading or not? Give me a straight answer!”

Although the man wasn’t entirely satisfied, he had no better option.

He handed over the child in his arms to Shan Laoda. Perhaps guilt still tugged at his conscience, for he mumbled under his breath, “Sigh… If my son weren’t so hungry—crying every day, begging to eat meat—I wouldn’t have…”

At first, Madam Ye, hiding behind the tree, didn’t understand what the two men were doing exchanging children.

But by the end of their conversation, it hit her like a bolt of lightning.

She had heard rumors—rumors that, among the groups fleeing the famine, some families who’d run out of food had begun trading children to eat.

But it was always just hearsay…

Never had she imagined that something so utterly inhumane would happen right in front of her eyes.

And then, Qingtian suddenly lifted her head and locked eyes with her.

Something surged up inside Madam Ye. She didn’t even know where the courage came from. She leapt out from behind the tree, tore Qingtian from Shan Laoda’s arms, and turned to run without a second thought.