The door was closed. In the pitch-dark room, only a few beams of light filtered through the cracks of the partition door. Even the light was murky. She squinted, and before she could think more, several matrons pushed open the door.
Her mother seemed prepared. She pushed her forward and explained, "That girl Bao Niang knew the situation and said nothing, watching you walk into a pit of fire without a word. She's no loyal servant. I'll pick better ones for you in a few days."
"What are you going to do to Bao Niang?"
"Bao Niang grew up with you. Since she's your personal maid, I'll give her some face. I've already sent her back with her own mother. Be obedient, and when you return, I'll have her serve you again."
Her parents were determined to teach her a lesson. The matrons were quick; in no time, Zhao Wan Niang was tied up and put onto a carriage.
The carriage clattered along the mountain road. Amid the jolts, she vaguely heard a rumbling.
Summer flash floods came swiftly. The people around were mostly women; before they could react, they watched as muddy water reached the bridge.
While Zhao Wan Niang was still bewildered in the carriage, chaos erupted outside. People fled and screamed. The driver whipped the horse frantically, trying to cross the flooded bridge, but halfway, a more violent flood surged.
"Oh no! The young lady is still in the carriage!"
Everyone escaped except her.
The carriage tumbled several times and soon split open, as if hitting hard rocks.
Zhao Wan Niang didn't know how to swim. Soaked through, the turbid current below clung tightly to her. She tilted her head back, her hands and feet still bound. She couldn't even struggle; she could only rise and fall with the waves in the pouring rain.
Her vision grew blurry. A final giant wave crashed down, and everything went black.
At that moment, she thought it was death.
But death wasn't so easy.
When she opened her eyes again, the surroundings were warm and rank. She felt as if she were lying on a pile of dead pork, her skin greasy.
The first thing that caught her sight was an old but sturdy roof beam.
Two spiders on it let down fine threads that landed on the tip of her nose.
She sneezed in fear.
"Creak—"
The door opened, and streams of light poured in.
Then came an endless nightmare.
That man was surnamed Zhang. His family had been butchers for three generations. When his father was alive, others called him Little Zhang Tu; after his father died, he became Zhang Tu. That day, he was washing pig entrails by the river when he saw something white drifting down from upstream. Thinking it was a big fish belly-up, he hurried over to retrieve it, only to find it was a woman when he got closer!
She seemed still savable. Zhang Tu put down his things, pulled her ashore, used every means to revive her, and finally brought her back from the brink of death.
Zhang Tu had never seen such a beautiful woman. She was clearly raised delicately, but since he saved her, she was his.
He carried Zhao Wan Niang back, and within a day, all the neighbors knew.
It took three days for her to fully wake up.
Zhang Tu's family circumstances weren't bad—compared to the neighbors, he was comfortably well-off. After his parents died, he observed mourning for three years, then another three. As a single man with no one to care for him, he left early and returned late, and his house was a mess.
Now that he had brought a woman back, everyone thought he was about to start a family.
Zhang Tu himself planned accordingly.
He changed the bedding to clean sheets, washed his hands, cleaned the woman he'd found, and dressed her in new clothes. He eagerly awaited her recovery, but one day, hearing sounds from inside, he approached only to be glared at.
"Who are you?!"
The young girl on the bed weakly propped herself up, terrified, pointing at him and shrieking, "Don't come closer!"
But no matter how she screamed, the man eventually came before her.
The noon sunlight was strong, and a strange odor filled the air.
The man standing by the bed was tall and burly, bare-chested, his muscles bulging and powerful. His eyes openly appraised her, from top to bottom, inside and out, finally revealing a smile.
"I fished you out of the water."
Suppressing her fear, seeing he made no further move, she stammered, "Thank you, then. I am the young miss of the Zhao family at Gold Mountain. I was swept here by the mountain flood. Please, benefactor, send a letter for me. When my parents come, they will reward you handsomely."
The man paused for a moment, then said seriously, "I don't want money."
"Then what do you want? Whatever I can give, I will!"
"I want you."
He sat down on the edge of the bed, blocking her view like a small mountain, filling her eyes with this man who reeked of blood and sweat!
"How can I marry you? I'll give you money! A lot of money! Find someone else... I already have a fiancé. He's a scholar; he'll come to marry me soon. Please, benefactor, find another match. Wan Niang is willing to gift you a thousand gold." Her shoulders began to tremble, and she kept shrinking back into the bed.
Little did she know, this sight only strengthened Zhang Tu's resolve.
He would marry this wench!
"You're called Wan Niang? The day I saved you, I saw rope marks on your wrists and ankles. If you were really a young miss, why would you be tied up and thrown into the river? You must be a shameless slut, messing around with men and disgracing your family, ending up like this!" He stared at her fair face, speaking cruelly without thinking.
Zhao Wan Niang swung her hand to slap him, but the slap landed weakly, only provoking a sneer.
"Instead of thinking too much, focus on getting better. You're nothing but skin and bones. When I changed your clothes, it really hurt!" The man's rough hand grabbed her wrist and shook it, pulling at her frail body, making it sway.
Truly "helpless."
Zhao Wan Niang bit her lip. The heat from his wrist seeped through her skin, giving her goosebumps. She wished she could cut off her hand right then.
Seeing his obscene, vulgar, and crude demeanor, she knew he must have taken advantage of her while she was unconscious. She was no longer pure...
At that thought, Zhao Wan Niang wished she could flay every inch of her skin.
"Who asked you to save me?!"
Her eyes reddened as she glared at him, as if he were her archenemy from a past life.
"You hate me?" The fire in Zhang Tu's heart was half extinguished. Looking into her eyes, he refused to concede or bow his head, instead threatening, "You're nothing but a scandalous woman. Why pretend to be a virtuous lady? Was it wrong to save you? In your current state, who would want to marry you besides me?"
"When you're better, we'll hold the wedding. Don't make a fuss." He rolled up his sleeves, intending to teach her a lesson, but catching sight of her frail, pitiful stubbornness, he softened his voice and punched the bedpost.
The entire bed shook.
Tears that had long been held back silently streamed from the young girl's eyes.
With a click of his tongue, the man reached out to wipe them away, but as he neared, she somehow found the strength to bite down hard on the base of his thumb!
"Sss—are you a dog?"
Zhao Wan Niang spat out the blood from his hand, curled up at the foot of the bed, and said word by word, "Don't touch me with your filthy hands!"
Zhang Tu looked at the wound on his hand, licked the blood beading from the injury, then grabbed the young girl, furious.
But at that moment, she closed her eyes, resigned to death: "If you want to kill me, do it quickly!"
Pulled from the bedding, her black hair was disheveled, her clothes loose, revealing skin as white as snow, not to mention the blood on her especially red lips.
The man had intended to give her a real lesson, but now, a wicked flame rose within him.
"Why would I kill you?"
He suddenly cupped her face and sucked forcefully on her lips.
The taste was sweet and bloody, drawing him in further.
He was inexperienced and a butcher by trade, plunging in with brute strength, almost prying her entire mouth open.
Tears filled her eyes. Zhao Wan Niang swore she would kill this man.
But killing him was easier said than done?
Author's note: None