"Ow! Hiss, why does this bamboo strip scrape my backside? Isn't there any paper? Ah?"
At dawn, the sky was just beginning to lighten. A cry, "Ao!"
Meng Ajiu was startled awake. Light seeped through the cracks of the locked, dilapidated wood shed door, falling onto her stunned face.
She stared blankly towards the direction of the sound from outside the window frame – the outhouse.
Where was she? She looked at her small hands, two bone segments shorter, and the patches on her ragged clothes, each stitch so familiar it brought tears to her eyes.
She had actually returned. Heavens! This wood shed was so familiar. Wasn't this the place from when she was fifteen?
"Is there any living person who can breathe out there to say something?"
Another agonizingly broken voice.
Young Ajiu finally realized. It was her father, the one who was going to sell her to Steward Li for money.
After that, she became a maidservant everyone could bully.
This was an era of war and chaos, with refugees everywhere. Three years of drought had turned a thousand miles into barren land.
She followed the Li family's troops and began a life of fleeing. It lasted for several years, until one day she heard that the old scoundrel was going to eat her for sustenance. Only then did her tragic life end.
At this moment, she was dizzy and disoriented, having not eaten for three days. The familiar feeling once again reminded her that she had indeed been reborn.
"Bang bang bang." The sound of banging on the outer door pulled Ajiu back to reality.
Her father stopped his furious shouting. "Finally, someone who can breathe. Wait, I'll open the door for you right away."
During this period, the door was kept tightly shut, whether day or night. Food was paramount. In an era where people couldn't get enough to eat, breaking into private homes to steal food was common, and human nature was exposed in a most gruesome manner.
With a creak, Meng Shaode opened the dilapidated wooden door, clutching his backside, which was nearly torn into a hemorrhoid by the bamboo strips.
"Who? We said we'd pick up the person today." Several people strode in.
"Person? What person?" Meng Shaode looked surprised, staring intently at the four or five burly men who had arrived.
Ajiu, however, couldn't remain calm. She immediately recognized them as the stewards from Steward Li's manor. They had come to take her.
Little Ajiu's heart pounded with fear, her mind filled with the terror of being persecuted by that old scoundrel. She clung to the doorframe with her hands, her body emaciated.
She had to escape. Although she had been reborn, it was precisely because of this that she cherished her life even more.
She gritted her teeth. The rope tying the door showed no sign of breaking. Ajiu gasped for air, sweat trickling down the back of her neck.
Her body was too weak. After pulling twice, she was already dizzy and her body slumped powerlessly against the door, her eyes filled with despair.
Could Heaven not grant her even one-millionth of its mercy?
"What? This beast, selling his daughter? Oh, heavens, what kind of world is this? Woo woo woo..."
Meng Shaode cried out to the sky.
Ajiu was startled. The person outside was indeed her father, but he seemed a bit off.
Besides, hadn't he listened to Grandma and decided to sell her when everyone was on the verge of starvation?
Why was he crying? Steward Li was coming to pick her up, and they would exchange some money. Shouldn't he be happy right now?
"Master De, we call you Master De because we respect you. Don't think that just because you used to be a caravan guard for Master Wang, you're someone important. If you don't hand over the person today, I'll break your legs."
The Li manor's steward was followed by four or five thugs. Although two of them had scimitars at their waists, capable of killing someone at any moment, the group hesitated, clearly a little timid.
After all, Meng Shaode had indeed been a caravan guard. He had killed many bandits and robbers on the road. He was burly and had a scar running across the bridge of his nose. Despite his current tearful state, the ferocity he exuded had not diminished in the slightest.