Huai Ning sat on the ridge between the fields, stifling a bored yawn.

 

Ever since that pale-looking man had come into the mountains and proposed taking her and her mother away from the ruined temple to form some kind of “family,” she and Lu Wuyu had moved to this village. That man, meanwhile, had deliberately dressed himself to look like he’d crawled straight out of the mud—so much so that there was no trace left of who he used to be.

 

He was different from everyone else, though Huai Ning couldn’t quite explain how. She had grown up in the mountains like a wild thing, after all. Her mother barely spoke, but she could kill. Anyone who failed to leave the mountain before nightfall and wandered into the ruined temple would, without exception, try to seize Lu Wuyu once they discovered her, intent on harming her. But that was fine. Lu Wuyu could smash them to death with the carved statues of gods and Buddhas on the table. Afterward, Huai Ning would rummage through their belongings. She didn’t know the use of most things, but she recognized food. As long as there was food, one could live—that was Huai Ning’s earliest understanding of the world.

 

Later, she noticed that some people, upon entering the temple, showed interest in the round, hard discs or shiny little stones left behind by previous visitors. Some would even snatch them up and flee without daring to look closely at Lu Wuyu inside the temple. That was when Huai Ning realized those things must be useful too. She would secretly follow them downhill and watch as they exchanged those stones for food. From then on, she understood: the stones they carried were just as important as food.

 

Huai Ning knew the world below the mountain was different from the one above it, but she was too small and too weak. Her mother was often deranged, sometimes even making sword-drawing motions as if to strike her, yet Huai Ning had no one else to rely on. Since birth, it had been just the two of them. Though their life in the mountains was neither human nor ghostly, Huai Ning didn’t know how to change it. When she was very young, she couldn’t even speak like a human. It was only by sneaking down the mountain now and then that she finally learned how to talk like everyone else.

 

Once she learned to speak, she discovered something else: sometimes, things that could only be obtained through violence could also be obtained with a few words—though in the end, it might still turn into violence.

 

Huai Ning grasped this truth. That was why she only dared to trick people out of their belongings when her mother was nearby. And she chose her targets carefully. For those she selected, she would deliberately lure them into the ruined temple, watch as they attempted evil and were killed by her mother, then swiftly collect what they carried.

 

Over time, people down the mountain began saying there was a ghost in the mountains. Those who went up grew increasingly cautious, making sure to leave before nightfall. Lu Wuyu didn’t go out hunting, and with Huai Ning still just a child, they could gather very little food. Just as she was at her wit’s end, one night, that man appeared.

 

Unlike the woodcutters who often entered the mountains, he was tall and thin, his face deathly pale, his voice soft. Huai Ning had occasionally seen fair-skinned scholars passing through, but none were quite like him. He seemed badly wounded. When he saw the mother and daughter, he merely let out a breath of relief and sighed.

 

“So there really aren’t any ghosts in this world—just people like me, seeking shelter.”

 

Huai Ning didn’t quite understand him. At that moment, the man suddenly took a paper-wrapped bundle from his pack. He opened it, picked up a pastry, then, noticing Huai Ning’s gaze, extended the bundle toward them.

 

“The blade was poisoned. I doubt I’ll live much longer,” he said. “This is Su Family mille-feuille pastry. Before I die, would you like to have a taste?”

 

Huai Ning wasn’t unfamiliar with receiving gifts. She usually judged the giver’s intentions before deciding whether to accept—after all, not everything could be eaten safely.

 

This pastry, though, was something she had never seen before. She glanced at the man. He lifted his hand slightly, and when she didn’t take it, he pretended to withdraw it.

 

“If you won’t eat it, I’ll eat it myself.”

 

In an instant, Huai Ning darted forward, snatching three pastries—one shoved into her own mouth, one handed to Lu Wuyu, and one tucked into the jar behind her.

 

Watching her practiced movements, the man realized that something about this small pair deep in the mountains was indeed unusual. But he was already a dying man, and nothing else mattered much anymore. He had no energy to investigate who Huai Ning and Lu Wuyu really were. He soon fell into a heavy sleep.

 

He thought he would surely die by morning. Yet when he awoke, he found his wound covered with crushed herbs. Huai Ning was boiling something nearby, while Lu Wuyu—who looked more like the one who had been poisoned—lay beside them, eyes tightly shut, utterly exhausted.

 

Huai Ning turned to look at the man without speaking, still tending the fire.

 

“Did your mother find the herbs?”
Zhou Sihe asked.

 

Huai Ning shook her head. Lu Wuyu would never leave the ruined temple on her own. Huai Ning had been injured so many times in the mountains that she had learned these things herself.

 

Zhou Sihe glanced at the pot again. “Did you detoxify me?”

 

Huai Ning shook her head again and pointed at Lu Wuyu.

 

She could find herbs to counter poison, but this man had been at death’s door—there was no way she could have saved him. She had only wanted to ease his pain a little, because the pastry he gave her was the best thing she had ever tasted. But when she returned, she realized his condition had improved markedly overnight. She immediately knew Lu Wuyu must have done something. Only her mother had that kind of ability—and now she looked weak enough to die.

 

Huai Ning regretted it at once. Compared to pastries, her mother mattered far more. If this man died, so be it. But if Lu Wuyu died, she would have nothing left in the world.

 

So the medicine she was boiling wasn’t for him at all—it was to replenish her mother.

 

Zhou Sihe, of course, couldn’t know the twists and turns in Huai Ning’s mind. But sensing that his body might yet recover, he looked at the mother and daughter and suddenly made a decision.

 

“If I recover,” he said, “would you be willing to go down the mountain with me? We could become a family. I’ll provide food and shelter. How about it?”

 

No. Huai Ning had heard such words before. Those people had all wanted to harm Lu Wuyu. Up in the mountains, they could kill. But if they went down the mountain, it would be far too dangerous.

 

Yet Zhou Sihe was different. He knew many things—more than even the scholars. Seeing that Huai Ning was unwilling, he didn’t rush her. Instead, he stayed in the ruined temple and began telling her stories she had never heard before—things unknown even in the villages below the mountain.

 

He told her his name was Zhou Sihe. It was a false name, and also his real one. He had been called Zhou Sihe since he was very young, then sent to a place called the imperial palace. The palace had taken a part of his body, making him an incomplete man, but in return it gave him opportunities unavailable elsewhere. Step by step, he obtained something called power. He had nearly possessed everything the emperor did—but in the end, he lost.

 

Huai Ning half-understood, yet listened intently. She also knew that when Zhou Sihe said he wasn’t a man, it was because he wanted to earn their trust and take them down the mountain.

 

“If a man and a woman are together,” Huai Ning asked haltingly, “would there be… me?”

 

Zhou Sihe nodded, thinking she was asking about her father. He was still wondering how to explain the possibility that she had been abandoned when Huai Ning stammered on,

 

“Then you and… Mama won’t have me. So we have to go down the mountain.”

 

Zhou Sihe’s heart jolted. He hadn’t expected a child who could barely speak properly to see through his intentions so quickly.

 

Staying in the mountains was no solution. But going down, how could someone as conspicuous as he was conceal his identity? This mother and daughter were the perfect answer.

 

They were not only a pair of women with no support in the mountains, but also completely unknown to the villagers. Even if officials searched for him, they would never suspect this “family of three.”

 

After receiving Zhou Sihe’s confirmation, Huai Ning felt an inexplicable excitement. Once the truth was laid bare, she found him more trustworthy instead. She turned to Lu Wuyu and asked,

 

“Mother, we’re almost out of food. If we go down the mountain, we’ll have rice to eat. Shall we go?”

 

Lu Wuyu didn’t want to leave the ruined temple, but she had little sense of agency—only stubbornness. Huai Ning alone couldn’t take her away, but Zhou Sihe was tall and strong. So one night, while Lu Wuyu slept, Zhou Sihe carried her down the mountain. That was how they arrived below, cleared wasteland, built a house, and, with the savings Zhou Sihe handed over to the village head, gained a foothold.

 

“After some time,” Zhou Sihe said, patting Huai Ning’s head, “we’ll find a way to get household registration. Then we’ll truly settle here. Do you want to be called Zhou Huai Ning, or Lu Huai Ning?”

 

It was hardly a question at all. Huai Ning would never choose anyone other than Lu Wuyu.

 

Hearing her answer, Zhou Sihe laughed. “Then I’ll change my name to Lu Sihe as well. A family should be neat and whole.”

 

Zhou Sihe was tall, but not as strong as Lu Wuyu. Still, he never forced her to work the fields. Most of the labor fell to him. Huai Ning helped when she could, while Lu Wuyu spent most of her time absentmindedly playing with the little trinkets Zhou Sihe carved for her.

 

During the slack farming season, Zhou Sihe personally taught Huai Ning and assigned her lessons. He truly knew a great deal—things she had seen and things she hadn’t. Through his stories, Huai Ning sensed how vast the world was, far larger than she had imagined.

 

Huai Ning, meanwhile, was brighter than any child Zhou Sihe had ever met. Whether reading, writing, or understanding human affairs, she learned quickly, even extrapolating from what she was taught. When village children bullied her for being an outsider, she swiftly subdued them, earning their submission and becoming their leader. She then brought back gossip from every household to Zhou Sihe, while he poured into her everything he had seen and learned inside and outside the palace.

 

“What do you have to learn to be a chief eunuch in the palace?”
Huai Ning asked.

 

Zhou Sihe replied, “You must constantly divine the emperor’s will—but you must also not constantly divine it.”

 

Huai Ning pondered this. “So you know exactly what people are thinking, don’t you?”

 

Zhou Sihe chuckled. “More or less.”

 

Huai Ning suddenly pointed into the distance. “Then what about Lu Wuyu? Do you know what she’s thinking?”

 

Zhou Sihe grew serious. “I’ve seen many mad people,” he said slowly. “Officials whose families were wiped out, consorts who fell from favor—and, well, some who went mad because of me. I know what kind of people they are, and why they went mad.”

 

“But your mother—I don’t understand her. She doesn’t even seem like an ordinary madwoman. Sometimes I think she might not truly belong to this mortal world at all.”

 

Huai Ning seemed a little downcast. Zhou Sihe asked gently, “What’s wrong?”

 

“I know my mother is different,” Huai Ning said. “Once I dreamed that if I weren’t here, she would turn into a goddess and fly back to the heavens. She wouldn’t need to stay in this world and suffer.”

 

Zhou Sihe laughed softly. “Without you, your mother alone in the mountains might have met some other danger long ago.”

 

Huai Ning shook her head. “Maybe it’s because of me that she became like this—mad and muddled.”

 

Zhou Sihe comforted her. “But what’s done is done, and you didn’t do anything wrong. If you love your mother, then you should grow up well, give her a better life. Solving problems—that’s what matters, isn’t it?”

 

Huai Ning nodded. “You’re right. I understand. It’s just… sometimes I still feel sad.”

 

“People aren’t made of wood or stone,” Zhou Sihe said with a smile as he tied her hair. “How could they be without feeling? This world is made of people. Someone who is utterly heartless can never understand how people act—how would they stand in this world? Even if born noble, they would eventually be dragged down.”

 

Huai Ning glanced at him. “But you said that to gain more power, one must abandon many emotions.”

 

“Because the struggle for power operates on another level,” Zhou Sihe said calmly.

 

The life-and-death struggles of his past now felt like something from a previous lifetime. Thinking of his own rise and fall, his intrigues and betrayals, Zhou Sihe said to Huai Ning,

 

“All under heaven bustle for profit. Huai Ning, if one day you truly walk this path, you must learn to discard unnecessary benevolence. In the contest for power, every move can cost you your life. What must be done—no matter how cruel—still must be done. Do you understand?”

 

Huai Ning thought quietly for a long time before answering. “I understand. But I will still do it my way.”

 

“You say that to protect interests, one must sacrifice the people. I don’t agree. Caring only for immediate gain is a shallow way to survive.”

 

She looked up, her eyes bright. “Give up one city today, ten cities tomorrow. By then, I’d already have fallen into a trap, where human lives mean nothing and every soldier is just a tool for seizing power.”

 

“People fighting endlessly against one another brings no benefit to the realm. Some withdraw from the world and call it wisdom to protect themselves—but I don’t want that.”

 

Her gaze burned. “If I must contend, I will contend with Heaven itself. I want food. I want the people. I want power too. Knowing it may be impossible, yet still doing it—that is the path of breaking the soil to survive.”

 

Zhou Sihe had seen countless people and carved a bloody path through court intrigues, yet Huai Ning’s naive, grand words left him unable to muster even a trace of mockery.

 

She was a special child—precocious, ambitious, and capable. If only she had been born into a good family in the capital, she surely would have achieved great things.

 

For now, Zhou Sihe only wanted to take good care of the mother and daughter. If one day Huai Ning wished to go farther, he would find a way to support her.

 

They lived peacefully like this for several years—until that day.

 

Zhou Sihe was suddenly taken away by a group of men. When Huai Ning and Lu Wuyu saw him again, it was in the yamen. She heard Zhou Sihe calmly confess:

 

“I am a rootless man. Encountering this widowed mother and orphaned child was a stroke of fortune. I coerced them into helping me evade the authorities, forced Madam Lu to acknowledge me as her husband, and made the girl call me Father. Being rootless and without heirs, I wanted a wife and child to fulfill my heart.”

 

Amid the curses and scorn around them, Zhou Sihe remained expressionless—until he saw Lu Wuyu and Huai Ning.

 

His gaze froze for a moment, then he suddenly went mad, shouting at them, “Look! My wife and child have come to see me! Ningning, call me Father! I’m your father!”

 

He struggled wildly toward them and was slammed to the ground by the guards. Lying there, he looked at Huai Ning holding back tears and gave her the same smile he always had, silently mouthing:

 

Cry. Do what you must do.

 

In that instant—whether from genuine feeling or necessary deceit—Huai Ning’s tears poured out uncontrollably. She felt Lu Wuyu trying to step forward and desperately pulled her back. When she was about to lose control, Huai Ning cried out,

 

“Mother, I want to go home.”

 

For once, Lu Wuyu understood her. That day, in the government office, Huai Ning told many lies—lies that would leave Zhou Sihe infamous forever, but would allow her and her mother to live.

 

Looking at the lofty officials from the capital, Huai Ning finally understood what kind of power Zhou Sihe had once sought.

 

After losing Zhou Sihe, the villagers initially showed sympathy and some kindness. But as time passed, Huai Ning began to sense their occasional contempt and malice. Not everyone was like that—some were still good people—but their attitude grew increasingly reckless. Huai Ning knew why: they saw them as weak. The only able-bodied laborer was gone. Lu Wuyu was mentally unstable. Huai Ning was barely ten. How would they farm? How would they pay taxes? Wouldn’t they end up becoming a burden? When there is no conflict of interest, everyone is kind. Once core interests are involved, everything becomes a problem.

 

If only Zhou Sihe hadn’t been discovered.
If only Mother hadn’t gone mad.
If only she were as strong as Mother.

 

Sometimes Huai Ning thought this while working the fields.

 

There was one piece of good news: Lu Wuyu sometimes seemed a little better. One night, she suddenly asked,

 

“Where did Zhou Sihe go?”

 

Huai Ning froze. It was the first time she had ever heard Zhou Sihe’s name from Lu Wuyu’s mouth.

 

“He’s dead,” Huai Ning replied calmly, smoothing her clothes.

 

“Dead.” Lu Wuyu repeated it, as if she couldn’t grasp it. “Dead.”

 

She said it several times, then silently curled into the corner of the bed, hugging her pillow, and didn’t speak again.

 

After that, Lu Wuyu would improve in fits and starts. Sometimes she even went to the fields. She couldn’t farm, but when villagers acted with ill intent, she would kick them flat. Once, when the village head tried to forcibly seize their land, Lu Wuyu picked up the wooden sword Zhou Sihe had carved for her and somehow gave those thugs all new hairstyles. Huai Ning later examined the sword carefully—it had no blade at all.

 

As Huai Ning grew older, she noticed changes in her body. Fortunately, Zhou Sihe had seen girls her age in the palace and taught her about such things. He also told her that in the countryside, being a little sloppy—like Lu Wuyu, unkempt and rough—could actually protect her.

 

Huai Ning understood. As a child, she had seen how men tried to lay hands on Lu Wuyu. So like Zhou Sihe, she deliberately made herself dark and ugly, to avoid trouble.

 

But trouble could never be completely avoided. One day in the fields, a widowed old man crept over and asked if Huai Ning would marry him.

 

She immediately swung her hoe at his head without giving him a chance to finish speaking, beating him back. Later, still furious, she crushed some fruits that caused severe diarrhea and poured them into his water jar.

 

Afterward, she realized something deeply: one day, when she grew up, she would have to leave this place with Lu Wuyu. Otherwise, more troubles like this would surely come. The outside world might have its own dangers, but it had to be better than staying here.

 

Yet just when she thought things might finally improve, disaster struck first.

 

That night, someone broke into their home, trying to take advantage of the chaos to assault her. Huai Ning was about to wake her mother when suddenly she felt warm blood spray across her face.

 

The night was too dark to see clearly, but she felt the wooden sword in her hand. She pushed the man’s corpse away and, by moonlight, saw Lu Wuyu’s face.

 

After many years, Lu Wuyu had killed again—this time to protect Huai Ning.

 

This wasn’t the mountains. They couldn’t let wild beasts dispose of the body. A disappearance in the mountains was normal; a sudden death in the village was not. If anyone had seen the man that night, it would bring enormous trouble.

 

“Mother,” Huai Ning said, looking at Lu Wuyu standing silently, “if we want to live, we have to cut him into pieces. Can you help me?”

 

She did everything she could to erase the traces. The next day, she went to the fields as if nothing had happened. When constables came to investigate, and when the man’s family wailed and accused them, she appeared utterly innocent. There was no evidence—but the villagers had already passed judgment. One night, the family joined others and demanded they be driven out.

 

Huai Ning wasn’t surprised. She had long expected this day and had prepared to leave. Farming wasn’t a solution anyway. With Lu Wuyu by her side, most evildoers couldn’t hurt her—though sometimes her mother would suddenly go mad and try to kill her. Huai Ning was used to it.

 

Late at night, she tried to negotiate, promising they would leave the next day. But give an inch and they took a mile. The person she’d contacted wouldn’t arrive until the next day. With no other choice, Huai Ning took Lu Wuyu back to the ruined temple for the night.

 

Early the next morning, she took their money and went to find someone to take them to the capital. But just as they came down the mountain, the villagers surrounded them again. Without a word, they dragged Huai Ning away.

 

She was locked up, confused and frightened. When she finally escaped, she saw the village ablaze. She ran toward the fire in desperation and, by a stream, found Lu Wuyu barely alive.

 

She lay half-submerged in the water, gazing at the sky, lost in thought.

 

Sensing Huai Ning’s arrival, Lu Wuyu lifted her fingers, raising a string of water droplets, and gently brushed Huai Ning’s dirty cheek.

 

As she touched her daughter’s face, a clarity Huai Ning had never seen before appeared in her eyes—

 

Reluctance.

 

At the end of her life, she finally remembered to look at her.

 

Lu Wuyu struggled to move her lips, wanting to say something, but no words came.

 

Huai Ning grasped her falling hand. She frowned, yet no tears fell this time.

 

She couldn’t understand. She couldn’t accept it.

 

Why—when they were so close to leaving—was everything taken from her at the very end?

 

Under Huai Ning’s unblinking gaze, Lu Wuyu raised her right hand to her chest. With a gentle motion, a sphere of pure light—only half complete—rose from her body. She looked at Huai Ning, a bitter smile flickering through her clarity, and lightly pushed the sphere into Huai Ning’s forehead.

 

Having done so, she seemed finally at peace.

 

Huai Ning realized what was happening and frantically touched her head. “Mother, take it back! I don’t want this—I want you to live! Mother! Mother!”

 

As she cried out, she watched Lu Wuyu turn her head back toward the sky—and in the next moment, like ash after a flame, she scattered with the wind and the stream, drifting away.

 

Huai Ning knelt by the water, plunging her hands in, trying to retrieve something—anything, even a scrap of her mother’s clothing.

 

In the end, she found nothing.

 

Her mother left nothing behind—not even a grain of dust.