Even though she had mentally prepared herself, when Jin Yuebai actually rushed through the door, her reason was still shattered by the scene before her.
Chairs were overturned everywhere.
The room was full of wood chips and dust.
The girls had tied their own feet to the chairs, and from their constant struggling, the wooden chairs had scattered all over the floor. Their fingers were endlessly scratching at the ground and the white walls, peeling away layers of paint; looking along the baseboards, all she saw were scratch marks.
They lay on the floor in uncomfortable positions, their eyes bloodshot, tears leaking unconsciously from the corners. Shiqing, having bitten her tongue, had blood constantly seeping from the corner of her mouth. Xiaochuan’s fingertips were covered in dirt, some already broken, exposing tender red flesh beneath.
Jin Yuebai froze for several seconds, then quickly pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and ran to Xiaochuan.
She knelt and tightly wrapped Xiaochuan’s hands with the handkerchief.
But someone in withdrawal has no reason left. Xiaochuan made strange sounds in her throat, like the roar of a car, or the gulping of a bird drinking water—sometimes a buzzing, sometimes a gurgle. She slapped the handkerchief away forcefully and shoved Jin Yuebai hard in the shoulder.
Because Jin Yuebai was kneeling, and Xiaochuan’s strength was unexpectedly great, Jin Yuebai, caught off guard, was pushed over, her waist hitting the hard, cold floor.
But Jin Yuebai didn’t mind at all.
She had seen everything, knew all their helplessness and sorrow. Now she felt only pain and heartbreak.
She quickly got up and hugged Xiaochuan’s hands again.
To keep Xiaochuan from hurting her fingers further, Jin Yuebai glanced around and saw some rope under the bed—hastily pulled out, it looked like a giant ball of cotton thread trailing on the ground. Jin Yuebai quickly found scissors, cut a length, and ran to Xiaochuan.
Ignoring Xiaochuan’s resistance, Jin Yuebai firmly tied her hands behind the chair.
“This way you won’t hurt your fingertips.”
Jin Yuebai said softly, “You love playing the piano most. When you’re better, you’ll want to play again.”
Then she ran to Shiqing.
By now, blood was streaming from the corners of Shiqing’s mouth, the wound looking very deep. Jin Yuebai found some ointment, holding Shiqing’s jaw with one hand and applying medicine with a cotton ball.
Not only her tongue, but the inside of her mouth was covered in clear bite marks.
With no proper tools, Jin Yuebai disinfected her hands, then used her fingers to apply iodine-soaked medicine deep into Shiqing’s mouth. But Shiqing struggled fiercely, staring at Jin Yuebai with hatred, as if she didn’t recognize her.
Jin Yuebai forced a smile, trying to soothe her.
“Relax—”
She spoke gently, “It’ll be over soon.”
But Shiqing only calmed for a few seconds before her face twisted again. She bit down on Jin Yuebai’s hand with all her strength.
Jin Yuebai didn’t dodge. Taking advantage of Shiqing’s movement, she shoved the cotton ball deeper into her mouth.
“I want…”
Shiqing made a muffled sound, “I feel awful…”
She was like a carnivore with a piece of meat, shaking her head to tear Jin Yuebai’s flesh. Jin Yuebai winced in pain, but quickly forced herself to relax.
“…I know you’re suffering.”
Jin Yuebai didn’t dare pull her hand away. She knelt on the floor, using her free hand to gently stroke Shiqing’s back, feeling her fingers go numb from the pain.
She had never seen someone in withdrawal before.
Jin Yuebai only knew that addicts went mad, did things against their will, became less and less human, and relapsed every so often.
But she hadn’t known it happened so quickly.
The addictive power of Yingling flower pollen was too strong. Barely half a day had passed, and these girls, forced to inhale the pollen, were already suffering their first agonizing withdrawal.
Or perhaps, the pollen wasn’t inherently so addictive.
It was just that they’d been forced to inhale it too many times.
Jin Yuebai had never experienced it herself, so she couldn’t imagine the world in her sisters’ eyes, didn’t know how much their bodies hurt, how their veins itched. Their eyes were empty and unfocused, as if looking at her, or at something else.
Five minutes passed.
Suddenly, Shiqing’s teeth loosened. Jin Yuebai quickly looked over, and after another two minutes, Shiqing slowly opened her mouth.
She stared at Jin Yuebai but said nothing.
“Are you awake?” Jin Yuebai asked cautiously.
Shiqing didn’t move.
So Jin Yuebai gave a soothing smile.
She didn’t wait for a reply—there were still several people struggling on the floor, and she needed to help them too.
Jin Yuebai flexed her numb fingers, ignoring the blood, and quickly moved to the others, helping each one up in turn.
By now, everyone had quieted down.
No more wild screaming, no more scratching at the corners, no more striking everything nearby.
They sat quietly, heads bowed, hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness.
So Jin Yuebai didn’t tie them up again. She untied the rope from Xiaochuan’s wrists, cleaned the floor, restored the room to order, and finally sat silently in a chair, waiting for everyone to wake up.
Her forehead was already beaded with sweat.
But the heat from her busy body was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.
Such frequent relapses, such intense physical reactions.
Just walking from Lingren Village to the next village would take days, with foreign soldiers possibly pursuing at any moment. Even the slightest disturbance could be fatal—no one would want to travel with them.
Their own sense of morality wouldn’t allow them to burden anyone.
On the run, they were like ticking time bombs, never knowing when they might endanger those around them.
Jin Yuebai closed her eyes.
She didn’t know how long had passed when she felt a cool hand touch her cheek. Jin Yuebai’s eyes flew open.
It was Shiqing.
Shiqing said nothing, just lowered her eyes and gently stroked the wounds on Jin Yuebai’s hand, then quietly picked up the ointment from the floor and began to treat her.
She worked slowly.
She looked utterly exhausted—every movement was weary, and sometimes, when the ointment fell from her trembling hands, she had to pause before picking it up again.
Jin Yuebai closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, she calmly and slowly told everyone everything she knew, making sure they could understand in their current state.
She said it once, then repeated it.
After the second time, Shiqing stopped applying ointment.
She didn’t immediately comment on the foreign invasion, but pointed at the rope at her feet, then at the ropes now untied from the others.
She said with some pride, “I was the first to notice something was wrong, so I had everyone tie themselves up.”
“See, the floor’s pretty clean—we didn’t do too much damage.”
“It’s just that we couldn’t find anything suitable to gag ourselves with. We were really loud just now, weren’t we? My throat’s hoarse.”
Jin Yuebai replied, “It wasn’t that loud.”
Shiqing hummed in response, then returned to her earlier point, softly saying, “But if we weren’t loud, we couldn’t have gotten out.”
“Even with our mouths gagged, we have to eat and drink, and our hands and feet can’t be tied every moment—how could we escape like that?”
A thought flashed through Jin Yuebai’s mind.
If they brought Yingling flower pollen on the road, endured for now, kept themselves alive, and quit later—
But she quickly dismissed the idea.
Behind every Yingling flower were countless corpses—some thrown into the valley dead, some alive. Yingling flowers weren’t something to be used. More likely, even if they survived, they’d never be able to quit after so many exposures.
Xiaochuan had the same thought.
They’d known each other too long, their minds in perfect sync.
She waved at Jin Yuebai. “We can’t do that. If we can’t quit, what’s the difference between me and a useless wreck?”
“Now that the Fang family is dead, my anger’s eased a bit. The rest, I’ll leave behind in Lingren Village.”
But Jin Yuebai shook her head.
“I’ll take you with me.”
“I’m not staying here. I’ll take you with me.”
This time, the girls panicked.
“You saw what we were like just now when it hit!”
“Yeah, Sister Yuebai, if you really do this, we’ll never speak to you again.”
“I’m not going. You can’t just knock me out and drag me along.”
“Just thinking about quitting later, I don’t want to go. I’m too fragile, haha. I hear quitting is really painful.”
“I really don’t want to go. Setting traps for the foreign soldiers sounds cool, okay?”
“Yeah, I want to do that too. I don’t have family outside. I heard Shiqing still has a sister—Shiqing, you should go!”
Jin Yuebai was firm: “I’ll take you all with me.”
Xiaochuan rejected her with facts: “There are six of us. If we all go into withdrawal at once, you’ll never be able to control us.”
“If—”
Xiaochuan paused, her voice soft. “If you have to take someone.”
“Just take two.”
She raised her hand. “First, not me. My health is bad, I can’t handle a long journey.”
The girl who’d just said she wanted to be a hero raised her hand too. “Count me out!”
One by one, everyone raised their hands.
In the end, all hands were up.
“Anyone who didn’t know would think you’re joining some organization,” Xiaochuan sighed, looking around. She pointed at Shiqing. “You have a twin sister, don’t you?”
“We were all sold here, but you came to pay for your sister’s treatment. Now you have money, it’s time to go.”
Xiaochuan quickly turned to a woman nearly thirty—the oldest among them.
“You have a daughter. Your husband sold her, then sold you too.”
Xiaochuan said, “Sometimes you talk about your daughter’s nickname in your sleep. You should go find her.”
The others laughed warmly, pulling down the hands of the chosen two. “It’s you two, then—go with Sister Yuebai and leave the village!”
The scene was so moving it brought tears.
Jin Yuebai took deep breaths, then slowly said, “We can take one more.”
“I can.”
“I can take three.”
The girls exchanged glances, then all pointed at Xiaochuan. “Xiaochuan, then. She’s healthy—can eat two pounds of beef in one meal!”
Xiaochuan hurriedly denied it: “No, I can’t!”
The girls wouldn’t let her speak, pushing her to pack.
“Just be jealous of us. Our anger will turn into bullets for the foreign scum—either we wipe them out, or we go out in a blaze.”
“Maybe someday our names will be in history books, or at least a group name?”
“Uh… The Three Heroines of Flower Street?”
Xiaochuan choked, shoving them playfully. “What a tacky name.”
Packing was quick—within half an hour, everyone was back in the village. Jin Yuebai handed out the deeds of sale she’d kept, watching as they burned the thin papers and let the ashes blow into the wind.
When all was ready, they set out for the theater.
Halfway there, Jin Yuebai quietly asked the three who weren’t leaving, “Let me try. I can take you with me.”
Among them, a girl named Yue Zhixi shook her head with a smile.
“We have our uses.”
“Didn’t the troupe leader want to secretly burn Yingling flowers at the village gate, let the smoke confuse the bad guys so they forget who they are?”
The girl said seriously, “We’re needed for that.”
“Picking the flowers is dangerous—anyone could get addicted or even die there.”
“We’re already addicted, so we’re not afraid of a little more. The three of us will go to the valley and pick the flowers.”