Yun Fanxing stood dazed for a while, then said nothing, turning back to her bed.
Yun Mingyue let out an ambiguous snort, difficult to tell if it was mocking or simply entertained.
Yet perhaps because of their family ties, she rummaged through her own wardrobe and tossed a thick quilt onto Yun Fanxing’s bed.
She threw it with careless force; Yun Fanxing seemed almost crushed beneath its weight, letting out a muffled groan.
Her thin figure was instantly buried under the heavy blanket, not even her head peeking out.
After a long while, Yun Fanxing finally pulled down the quilt, gasping for breath as though suffocating.
Jiang Yan studied the expressions of all three before finally speaking:
“I’ll handle it.”
She stopped Zhou Xiahua, who was busily lining her locker, “We have class tomorrow. Don’t trouble yourself with me, get some rest.”
Zhou Xiahua smiled. “No trouble. Tomorrow morning’s class isn’t important—we can slack off.”
Her face returned to the same warm, cheerful expression as before; it was as if the earlier flashes of disgust and anger had been Jiang Yan’s illusion.
Jiang Yan pressed gently for information: “Not important?”
“Are there unimportant classes here?”
Zhou Xiahua nodded as if it were obvious. “I don’t know which family you’re from—the village is huge, and I usually keep to myself. But don’t let anyone brainwash you! No one is born fated to be a sacrifice. Every life is a life. Becoming a sacrifice is not our destiny.”
“To live well is what matters.”
“So just ignore those brainwashing lectures. Poetry you should learn, and history too. Sewing, you can study somewhat; treat it as a way to make pretty clothes for yourself. Then there’s one more class…” Here, Zhou Xiahua winked at Jiang Yan. “You’ll know when the time comes—that one’s the most important and you absolutely must attend.”
Jiang Yan readily agreed.
She pondered a moment, then asked, “Are there a lot of people in Taoyuan Village?”
Zhou Xiahua looked at her in surprise. “You…?”
Jiang Yan adjusted her expression to one of dejection, lowering her gaze. “I’ve never left home. My parents always told me to just stay in and work…”
Zhou Xiahua nodded, understanding dawning.
“I figured as much—the tiny bit of luggage you brought is even less than mine. Must have suffered at home. Don’t worry, from now on I’ll look out for you!”
With that, she gave Jiang Yan a detailed rundown of Taoyuan Village.
Five hundred years ago, the entire village migrated at once. Nearly a hundred households were taken by the Cow Immortal; it was like magic—one blink and they had crossed endless mountains to arrive at a brand new land.
Thanks to the Cow Immortal’s blessing, every family in Taoyuan Village bore twin boys and girls, not just once but often two or three sets. Back then, people believed the more children, the better. So, over centuries, the village had grown almost to the size of a small town. And because of the Cow Immortal’s protection, inbreeding had never occurred.
There were a few exceptions. Certain families never bore dragon-phoenix twins; the gender of their children was random. The elders said it was because their ancestors didn’t really believe in the Cow Immortal—these families only happened to be guests in the village for a time and, by chance, were taken along.
After describing village life, Zhou Xiahua sighed, but soon perked up again.
She finished tidying the locker for them and helped stow Jiang Yan and Yu Renwan’s bags.
“There, all set. You must be exhausted—get some sleep.”
Jiang Yan agreed and went to the leftmost bed.
Her name was written on the bedhead; Yu Renwan’s was on the next bed, just a short reach away.
Jiang Yan searched the bed thoroughly and finally found a small slip of paper beneath the bedpost.
[Dormitory is safe.]
Almost at the same moment, Yu Renwan found a slip stuck to the underside of her own bed.
[So suffocating; only here is a refuge.]
The two exchanged glances, both certain of one thing.
—The dormitory held extraordinary meaning for the spirit.
She seemed unwilling to allow any gruesome events to occur here.
Jiang Yan turned over, lying on her bed.
The dormitory lights went out. Zhou Xiahua climbed quietly into her bunk; the old wooden frame groaned softly beneath her weight.
Zhou Xiahua muttered, “Am I really that heavy…”
Then she fell silent. The room grew still, and sleep soon overtook Jiang Yan as she closed her eyes.
Jiang Yan thought she would surely be woken in the night by some sound—but she wasn’t. When she next awoke, dawn was just breaking.
A mild morning light seeped through the window.
Yun Fanxing was already up, pressing a hand tightly over her mouth to stifle her coughs. Straining not to make a sound, her face turned red from the effort; at last, unable to hold out, she hurriedly packed her bag and slipped out.
Jiang Yan quickly dressed and followed.
Yun Fanxing was at the fifth-floor corner, doubled over in a fit of coughing so violent it brought tears to her eyes. Taking a moment to steady herself against the wall, she slowly shuffled toward the stairs, acting as if nothing had happened.
Jiang Yan called to her: “Are you going to breakfast?”
Yun Fanxing started, turning a surprised face.
After quite a pause, she responded softly, “You’re one of the new students…”
Jiang Yan nodded, “Yes. Let’s go to breakfast together.”
Not waiting for Yun Fanxing to refuse, Jiang Yan walked up and pulled an old-fashioned date cake from her bag, handing it to her.
Yun Fanxing wanted to refuse, but at the sight of the food, she instinctively swallowed.
In the end, almost in disbelief, she accepted. “I know this.”
Jiang Yan took out another cake for herself and took a bite. “Right? It’s pretty good.”
Yun Fanxing nodded, “Mm, my brother bought something like this for me before. Aunt Xu came up with this new kind of bread, lots of people buy it, and my brother always has to line up a long time just to get me a piece.”
Jiang Yan, unfamiliar with commerce and trade here, let the topic go and replied, “My brother gave this to me too.”
Yun Fanxing tilted her head and looked at her.
Jiang Yan volunteered an explanation: “Even though my mother won’t let me out, my brother can go out and always brings me treats.”
Yun Fanxing nibbled the date cake, her voice soft. “My brother’s really good to me, too.”
Jiang Yan could tell.
When Yun Fanxing spoke of her brother, there was a strong desire for an embrace. She must trust and rely on him deeply; her family relationships were apparently harmonious.
A village of several hundred families couldn’t possibly value boys over girls to the same extreme; and there were families who didn’t always have twins—if the first child was a girl, they often wouldn’t have more. Children of both genders were cherished.
So the male-supremacy attitude here couldn’t be that entrenched or extreme.
And Yun Fanxing was born into one of those relatively equal households.
A corridor on the fifth floor led directly to the cafeteria. As Yun Fanxing led Jiang Yan down, perhaps finding a kindred spirit, she suddenly became more talkative.
“Whatever you do, never tell Xiahua about your good brother.”
Jiang Yan: “Why not?”
Yun Fanxing coughed a bit, lowering her voice: “Her brother’s awful—a real scum.”
Jiang Yan asked, “And your brother?”
Yun Fanxing couldn’t help but smile. “He’s great.”
“I… I’ve always been sickly, so my brother’s always at my bedside, vowing to cure me, saying he’ll grow up to be a doctor. If I hadn’t been chosen, I would’ve followed in his footsteps—I wanted to become a doctor too… But now I don’t.”
“Because you’re going to be sacrificed?”
Yun Fanxing nodded. She didn’t speak again until they reached the cafeteria, quietly nibbling the date cake.
It was dry; lacking water, halfway through she broke into another fierce coughing fit, almost hacking up a lung.
Jiang Yan patiently patted her back, then handed her some water.
Yun Fanxing thanked her repeatedly.
When they arrived at the dining hall, she insisted on buying Jiang Yan breakfast. Not familiar with Taoyuan Village’s trading system, Jiang Yan accepted.
Soon, the two sat at a cafeteria table with millet porridge and steamed buns.
Thinking of last night, Jiang Yan said, “When I checked in, I heard some say your relationship with Xiahua… Do you need my help?”
Yun Fanxing’s eyelashes trembled. At last, she shook her head.
“No need. Xiahua doesn’t consider me her best friend anymore.”
“And I’m too cowardly—not worth forgiving.”
When she saw Jiang Yan was about to press, she said it all in one rush.
“Say no more. I won’t change my mind.”
“I wanted to rebel with Xiahua, like she said, that everyone’s life is a life… But it’s not true, at least not mine.”
“My health is terrible. A few days ago, I fell ill again, and my parents carried me home, crying; my brother cried too. When the headman drew my lot, they all cried again. They crammed the best food in the house into my room, and before I enrolled, my mother wouldn’t sleep unless she was holding me…”
“I wasn’t actually very sad then, because I knew I wouldn’t live much longer anyway. A few days ago, I overheard the doctor say I’d last two years at most…”
Yun Fanxing paused, her voice dropping. “I heard elders say, every time the Cow Immortal cries out in pain, the mountains and rivers shake. If its suffering isn’t quelled, our home could disappear, the village will be buried in earth, so the sacrifices cannot stop.”
“That’s why I’ve thought, if I could, I’d willingly be sacrificed, so Xiahua and the others can get away.”
“But Xiahua won’t accept that—she wants everyone to leave together.”
Yun Fanxing ate very slowly, every swallow taking great effort.
In the end, she said,
“Be sure you learn to swim well.”
“Xu Xing is a genius at astronomy and geography; she’s read a lot and deduced that escape must be by water—Taoyuan Village has only one river, the river that leads to the Cow Immortal’s cave.”
“That river is strange. Only one kind of wood will float there. Every such boat is used for the sacrifices; the headman keeps them hidden. So Xiahua and the others plan to use the sacrifice to get out, then swim for shore and freedom.”
“Then you’ll all be free.”
At “freedom,” Fanxing’s eyes shone a little.
But the idea was all too naïve.
Jiang Yan cast her gaze on the frail girl, fifteen or sixteen at most, and smiled, not wishing to shatter her hopes.
After breakfast, Yun Fanxing carried her bowl and said goodbye: “Thank you for talking with me. Don’t speak to me again from now on.”
“I won’t respond to you, either.”
Jiang Yan was startled, quickly calling her back. “One last question.”
“When they draw lots—are the names ours? My family never told me.”
Yun Fanxing glanced over. “No—it’s our mothers’ names.”
“She has to choose which of her children to give up. But because of the shaman’s… advice, they always pick daughters.”
Jiang Yan nodded.
So this was the bias that gnawed at the spirit’s heart.
And rightly so.
*
At seven thirty, the first lesson of the day began.
Jiang Yan arrived just in time. Perhaps because of their arrival, everything in the classroom seemed normal, not the flooded scene she’d witnessed yesterday—every girl was freshly washed.
Seeing Jiang Yan, Zhou Xiahua waved at her happily. “Jiang Yan, sit anywhere you like!”
Shen Xiaoxiao waved too, glancing at Zhou Xiahua before raising her hand higher.
Jiang Yan took the seat between Zhou Xiahua and Shen Xiaoxiao.
Zhou Xiahua turned to introduce the students around.
“That’s Wu Mei in the first row,” she pointed forward, “always hanging from beams and pricking her thighs to study. Her eyesight’s bad from so much reading, so she often steams her eyes with herbs—always smells nicely of mugwort.”
“The one with very short hair is Xu Xing. Her family is extremely patriarchal, so she was raised as a boy. The first time she wore a school skirt, it was hilarious; she absolutely refused to take off her pants until Wu Mei comforted her.”
“That girl with the dimples is Ye Tian—her voice is super sweet; her family runs a sugar shop.”
“In the last row is Han Yinghuo—her family runs a butcher shop. She’s really loud and really strong. If we’re to get untied on the boat later, it’ll be up to her… She’s the most unfortunate—while the rest of us were picked by lot, her own mother volunteered her for ‘filial piety’ to the Cow Immortal.”
“As for the others…” Zhou Xiahua glanced around, “You met most of them last night. Yun Mingyue’s just a spoiled rich kid; her family’s well off. Don’t cater to her moods; she forgets them in a minute.”
Just then, the bell rang, and the teacher entered; Zhou Xiahua turned back to face front.
Jiang Yan looked up at the new female teacher.
But before she could glean any more information, a slip of paper appeared suddenly on her desk.
It appeared on the desks of all new students.
[Sacrifice will commence three days from now.]
[Before the ceremony begins, please write your answers on this paper—
1. Who am I, among the seven?
2. Why am I in such pain?]
[Each new student has only one chance. A perfect score allows you to leave my world.]