Chapter 1
The village of Liǎng Zuò Shān clung to the valley like something forgotten by both heaven and mercy.
From above, if anyone powerful enough to travel the skies bothered to look down, they would have seen a scattering of mud-brick homes huddled together beneath two towering mountains. The roofs sagged beneath years of rain and neglect. The narrow paths between houses turned to rivers of mud whenever storms came and cracked into hard earth when they did not.
People survived there but few truly lived. Hunger is not a passing season in Liǎng Zuò Shān, It is the air itself.
Children learned the sound of empty stomachs before they learned songs. Old men measured time not by years but by harvests survived. Women stretched handfuls of rice into meals large enough to fool the eyes, if not the belly.
Beyond the village rose the mountains.
The first mountain offered a cruel kind of generosity. Near its base, rabbits darted through tall grass. Wild vegetables pushed stubbornly through rocky soil. Occasionally a peasant chicken wander through trees and became a blessing for whoever caught it first. Many families survived because of that mountain but many others also died because of it.
The higher one climbed, the more dangerous it became. Wild boars charged without warning. Deer moved like ghosts through ancient forests, Wolves hunted in packs beneath the moon and Bears roamed where even experienced hunters feared to tread.
The mountain gave but the mountain also took.
The second mountain gave nothing. Its black ridges loomed over the valley like a wound carved into the horizon, Bandits hid among its caves, Deserters from distant armies built camps in its forests, Enemy spies crossed from the neighboring kingdom and disappeared into its shadows.
The village elders spoke of the mountain in hushed voices. Children were warned that if they wandered too far, they would never return. No one climbed that mountain willingly And those who did often left behind grieving families.
It’s in this forgotten place that Lin Yue learned what it meant to be worth less than grain.
The morning she was sold, the sky had been gray in Xīwàng zhī cūn, not storm-gray but just empty. Her mother stood beside the doorway with her arms folded, Her father sat at the table counting grain for the third time. Neither looked sad but neither also looked happy. To them, it was merely another transaction.
Lin Yue stood silently with a cloth bundle in her hands. Everything she owned fit inside it. Two dresses, A wooden comb, A blanket full of patches and a small carved rabbit her younger brother had once abandoned.
Her father finally nodded. “Three pounds.”
The matchmaker from Liǎng Zuò Shān nodded back. “Three pounds.”
“Measured properly?”
“I measured it twice.”
Only then did her father smile. A small relieved smile, as though a burden had finally been lifted from his shoulders.
Lin Yue watched him and felt nothing, the hurt had died years ago.
“Yue,” her mother said. It was the first time she’d spoken her name that morning. Lin Yue looked up, Her mother adjusted the sleeves of her worn shirt. “At least you’ll eat somewhere else.”
That was all. No embrace. No blessing. No tears, Just practical advice.
Her father grunted. “Three pounds is still three pounds.”
The matchmaker laughed and everyone laughed. Everyone except Lin Yue.
The road to Xin Pengxi’s house was half a day long but the journey felt much longer. When she arrived, she was sixteen. Old enough to work, Young enough to hope but hope was a mistake.
Xin Pengxi seemed normal at first. Shy, even. He was handsome, he spoke softly during their first meal, Asked if she preferred rice porridge or steamed buns, Helped carry water, Smiled occasionally. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine a different life. Perhaps he would be kind, perhaps she would have a home, perhaps she would matter to someone.
Then gambling entered the story or perhaps it had always been there, She simply had not seen it, Money disappeared first then tools then blankets then chickens. Soon he began drinking as well. Whenever he lost, he drank, whenever he drank, he became angry, whenever he became angry, someone suffered.
Usually her.
The first slap shocked her the second hurt, the hundredth barely registered.
Years passed.
The bruises came and went but the fear remained.
Then Xin Yi is born, a daughter. Not a son, not the child Xin Pengxi wanted. Lin Yue still remembered the look on his face when the midwife announced it.
Not rage but something worse, disappointment. As though the baby had already failed him.
Xin Yi learned quickly. Children always did. Especially children born into hardship. At two years old she already knew how to stay silent when her father stumbled home drunk. She knew which floorboards creaked, Which corners of the house were safest, How to stop crying before tears became noise.
One evening Lin Yue found her daughter hiding beneath the table. The little girl hugged a rag doll made from scraps of cloth. Outside, thunder rolled through the mountains. Inside, Xin Pengxi slept in a drunken heap.
Lin Yue crouched beside her. “What are you doing under here?”
Xin Yi looked up nervously. “Hiding.”
“From what?”
The child thought for a moment, then pointed toward her sleeping father.
Lin Yue’s chest tightened. “He isn’t awake.”
“I know.”
“Then why hide?”
Xin Yi whispered. “So he doesn’t remember me.”
Lin Yue nearly cried, instead she forced a smile. “Your father knows who you are.”
The little girl lowered her eyes. “I don’t want him to.”
That night Lin Yue stayed awake long after everyone slept. Listening, thinking, wondering whether fate truly hated some people more than others.
The next summer was particularly harsh, the harvest failed again. Several families left the village, a few never arrived anywhere. Rumors said wolves found them on the road. Others whispered bandits. Nobody knew, nobody investigated, Life continued as it always did.
One afternoon, while waiting beside the village well, a neighboring widowed approached Lin Yue. The woman is older, thin and sharp-eyed. The sort of person who noticed everything. She handed Lin Yue a bucket. “Here.”
“Thank you.”
The woman hesitated, then spoke quietly. “Can I ask something?”
Lin Yue nodded. The woman glanced around to ensure nobody listened. “Why did you choose to marry him?”
Lin Yue laughed softly, Not because it was funny Because the answer felt absurd. “I didn’t.”
The woman frowned. “You know what I mean.”
For a moment neither spoke. The sounds of the village filled the silence. Children running. Dogs barking. Someone arguing over vegetables. Normal sounds. Ordinary sounds. Lin Yue stared into the well. Then finally answered. “Because I thought hunger might be less painful than loneliness.”
The woman looked away, there was nothing to say after that. Both understood the truth, Sometimes there were no good choices, Only different kinds of suffering.
That autumn, everything changed. The change arrived on a rainy evening. Xin Pengxi had spent three straight days gambling. When he returned home, he was drunk enough to mistake insults for greetings and greetings for insults. Lin Yue knew trouble is coming the moment she saw him staggering down the road. Several villagers followed behind him.
Watching, whispering which is a bad sign.
Xin Pengxi shoved open the door. “You!”
Lin Yue immediately moved Xin Yi behind her. “What happened?”
“What happened?” He laughed wildly. “They cheated me!” His face was swollen, One eye nearly closed, Blood stained his clothes. “They stole from me!”
“Sit down,” Lin Yue said carefully. “You need medicine.”
“I need wine!” He grabbed a stool and hurled it against the wall.
Xin Yi whimpered. The sound only made him angrier then came a knock. Three men stood outside. All gamblers. All larger than Xin Pengxi, their expressions promised violence.
The largest spoke. “He owes money.”
Xin Pengxi cursed him the man punched him, just once but it was strong. Xin Pengxi collapsed immediately and he other two joined in, Kicks, Fists, Shouting and Blood.
Lin Yue covered Xin Yi’s eyes.
No one intervened. Not the mother. Not the sister. Not the neighbors. Not the villagers. Not anyone. By the time the men finally left, Xin Pengxi lay motionless on the ground. Barely breathing. His face was unrecognizable.
For two days he remained unconscious. The village healer visited once. Looked him over. Shook his head. “Maybe he’ll wake.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Lin Yue asked.
The old healer shrugged. “Then he won’t.”
That was the extent of medicine in Liǎng Zuò Shān.
On the second night rain drummed against the roof. Xin Yi slept curled beside her mother. The oil lamp burned low. Lin Yue sat beside her husband’s bed.
Not out of affection but Out of obligation, Watching the rise and fall of his chest, waiting, wondering whether she should pray for his survival Or his death.
Then, sometime after midnight, Xin Pengxi’s fingers twitched.
His eyes opened.
Author Note: “Hello everyone, this is Miss Aster Rose. So this story is based on one of my AIChat bot (www. clank.world/@c/LinYue) using my OC Xin Pengxi. This is not a chinese story that’s been translated and uploaded here, everything is my original story. I know there’s a lot of chinese drama and novels with the same plotline like this but i swear that this book is kinda different than those chinese drama and novel (i have read/watched), just trust the process, guys. Expect the usual romance, more of rug to riches and business empire plot, but what i can promise is new business ideas in ancient time, no annoying bystander and neighbors, original music, and a relaxing story that won’t stress you out.”
