Chapter 15
Chapter 15: Dispute
Qin Hui Yin ran until her lungs burned. Only when the brush thickened and the trail dipped out of sight did she risk a glance over her shoulder.
No one.
Song Rui Ze hadn’t followed.
Relief knocked the strength out of her legs. She dropped onto the ground, palms braced behind her, and gulped air like it was the first breath she’d taken all day.
Then she saw them.
Right in front of her, tucked beneath broad leaves, hung tiny green fruits—small, glossy, and sharp-looking.
“Wild mountain chilies…”
Excitement wiped her exhaustion clean. She scrambled closer, plucked one, and stuffed it into her mouth.
The familiar heat hit her tongue, fierce and clean. Her eyes watered, but she was grinning so hard it hurt.
“So Song Rui Ze really is my lucky star!”
The chili plant was thriving, proud and full. Leaving it here alone in the mountains to admire itself felt like a crime, so she dug around the roots and yanked it free, dirt and all.
“A new home for you,” she whispered, lowering it into her back basket like treasure.
She searched the nearby slope, found three more plants, and uprooted those too. By the time she was done, her basket was filled with “grass,” dirt, and promise.
Still riding that burst of luck, she climbed a tree and reached into a bird’s nest wedged between branches.
Warm, smooth eggs nestled in the straw.
She’d just eased one free when footsteps crunched below.
Qin Hui Yin froze.
Song Rui Ze stood at the base of the tree with a rabbit in one hand and a pheasant in the other. He tilted his chin up.
She looked down.
For a heartbeat, even the wind seemed to pause.
She remembered the original novel too clearly—Song Rui Ze’s “great achievements,” the kind that made your stomach turn. Skinning people alive. Smiling while he did it.
Cold crawled up her spine.
“What a coincidence,” she forced out, voice trembling. “We meet again.”
He stared at her, dark and unreadable.
The look made her skin crawl.
Why wasn’t he leaving?
Did he want the eggs too?
She hesitated, fingers still curled around the nest, weighing whether offering a few eggs to this future murderous maniac would count as buttering him up—
Something cold brushed her ankle.
A thin green snake had wound itself around the trunk. It flicked its tongue at her, head angled upward.
Qin Hui Yin didn’t think. She grabbed it just behind the head and whipped her arm.
The snake flew—straight toward Song Rui Ze.
He moved like he’d been waiting for it. The sickle in his hand flashed.
Slash!
The snake hit the ground in two pieces.
Qin Hui Yin went ashen. Great. Not only had she met him again—she’d just thrown a snake at him like a deliberate insult.
Song Rui Ze gave a low, contemptuous snort and strode away, his game swinging lightly from his hands.
Only when his footsteps faded did Qin Hui Yin breathe again. She patted her chest, forcing her heartbeat down.
What, exactly, had the original owner of this body done to offend him?
Compared to how little the original Qin Hui Yin had ever interacted with the male lead, she had spent nearly a year with this future arch-villain—long enough to do every kind of stupid, self-destructive thing she could think of.
“If I rush over now, hug his leg, and beg him to spare me,” she muttered, eyes stinging, “will he be merciful and let me go like I’m just… nothing?”
Still shaken, she dug out the bird eggs, tucking what she could away as quickly as her trembling fingers allowed. Then she climbed down and headed downhill with her basket.
She’d almost reached the outer edge of the mountain when shouting burst through the trees.
“I’m taking this firewood today. Whether you give it or not, you’re giving it! Tang Yi Xiao, get it through your head. A sickly thing like you—born to a mother but raised by none—we’re already being generous just by talking to you, and you still don’t know what’s good for you. Hand it over. You talk too much!”
Qin Hui Yin hurried toward the sound.
A sturdy boy had shoved Tang Yi Xiao—still carrying firewood—hard enough to send him to the ground. He snatched the bundle from Tang Yi Xiao’s arms and kicked him several times, like he was stomping dirt off his shoes.
A few other boys loitered nearby, tall and short mixed together, all of them filthy and fearless. Next to them, Tang Yi Xiao looked almost painfully pale, fine-boned and clean in a way that made him seem out of place.
Tang Yi Xiao scrambled up and rushed forward to grab the firewood back. Fury twisted his delicate, handsome face, but before he could even get close, another foot sent him down again.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Qin Hui Yin shouted.
The boys turned. When they saw her, they didn’t take her seriously at all.
“Don’t stick your nose in,” one sneered. “If you make us mad, we won’t care if you’re a boy or a girl—we’ll beat you anyway.”
Qin Hui Yin set her back basket down, rolled her shoulders, and curled her hands into fists.
“Funny,” she said lightly. “When I get mad, I don’t care whether the other person is a boy or a girl either. I’ll hit them all the same.”
They snorted. None of them believed her.
“Qin Hui Yin,” the sturdy boy said, swaggering closer, “your mom married his dad. This sickly thing is a burden to your family. You don’t like him either, right? We’re helping you teach him a lesson. You should be thanking us.”
Qin Hui Yin planted one hand on her hip and shoved him back. “Whatever’s between me and him is family business. Is it your turn to fart out opinions here?”
The boys blinked.
She stepped forward, gaze sharp. “I’ll give you one chance—scram right now, and sister will let you off. If you don’t, sister’s fists won’t be gentle.”
“Sister?” The boy barked a laugh. “Hahaha… Qin Hui Yin, are you dumb? With that scrawny body of yours, you dare challenge us?”
The boys roared with laughter, looking at her like she was an idiot.
Tang Yi Xiao spat coldly, “I don’t need you meddling. Get lost.”
Qin Hui Yin snapped her head toward him. “Shut up! Right now you and I are on the same side. I don’t care how much we fight at home—outside, we stick together. Understand?”
Tang Yi Xiao went silent, lips pressed tight.
The sturdy boy’s face darkened. He was used to swaggering around the village, bullying kids his age whenever he pleased. Tang Yi Xiao refusing to give him face was bad enough. Qin Hui Yin provoking him too? Worse.
He reached out to shove her.
Qin Hui Yin caught his wrist, twisted hard, and stepped behind him in one smooth motion. His arm folded into a reverse hold, and he yelped, body pitching forward.
“Aaah… It hurts! Let go of my hand! It hurts… Qin Hui Yin, you stinky girl, let me go right now! If you don’t, my parents won’t let you off!”
“Still acting tough.” Qin Hui Yin tightened her grip until his knees bent.
He howled, face going red. “What are you standing around for? Hurry up and deal with this stinky girl—beat her until her own mother can’t recognize her!”
The other boys exchanged looks. They hesitated, but in the end they rushed her anyway. She was just a girl. There were so many of them.
Three boys lunged at once.
Qin Hui Yin released Black Bull with a shove that sent him stumbling, snatched up a thick stick from the ground, and swung.
Bang!
A boy yelped and clutched his backside. Qin Hui Yin didn’t pause—she brought the stick down again and again, each strike sharp and humiliating.
“Your parents clearly don’t know how to teach you,” she snarled. “So sister will give you a lesson.”
The boys shouted, tried to scramble away, but she kept them pinned with the stick and her voice.
“And listen,” she snapped, breath coming fast. “Tang Yi Xiao’s mother died in labor giving birth to him. She loved him with her life. Don’t you dare say he was born of a mother but raised by none. If I hear that brainless trash again, I’ll twist your heads off and kick them around like balls.”
One of them burst into tears. “Crazy girl… shrew… waaah… it hurts… stop hitting us… Dad… Mom…”
“You’re men,” Qin Hui Yin said, and cracked the stick down again. “Heaven made you strong, not so you could use your strength to bully the weak!”
Their courage crumbled into sobs.
“Stop hitting us, we won’t dare again…”
“Apologize!” Qin Hui Yin barked.
“Sorry!”
“Not to me.” She jabbed the stick toward Tang Yi Xiao. “Apologize to Tang Yi Xiao.”
“Tang Yi Xiao, I’m sorry…”
“Sorry—we shouldn’t have bullied you, we shouldn’t have stolen your firewood… We won’t take your stuff again… waaah… it hurts… stop…”
Qin Hui Yin finally lowered the stick and looked at Tang Yi Xiao. “Will you forgive them?”
Tang Yi Xiao stared at them for a long moment, face blank. Then he shook his head.
“No.”
Qin Hui Yin lifted her chin. “Hear that? He won’t forgive you. Fine. I’ll let it go this time.”
She leaned in, voice quiet and razor-sharp. “But if there’s a next time, I’ll make sure the whole village knows. Then everyone will know a bunch of boys couldn’t even beat one girl. You’ll be laughed at for the rest of your lives. When you grow up, you won’t even be able to get a wife. Who would want a weak chicken with no skills?”
“You—you…” Black Bull trembled, rage and humiliation fighting on his face.
“Why are you still here?” Qin Hui Yin snapped. “It’ll be dark soon. If you don’t go gather firewood now, you’ll get beaten by your moms when you get home, won’t you?”
The boys clutched their bruised backsides and limped away, walking bowlegged and awkward, their earlier swagger gone.
Qin Hui Yin turned to Tang Yi Xiao. “Can you still stand up?”
Tang Yi Xiao pushed himself to his feet, movements stiff. He lifted his chin. “Don’t think I’m going to thank you.”
“You’re overthinking it.” Qin Hui Yin made a face at him. “I wasn’t trying to save you. You were in my way.”
Tang Yi Xiao stared at her, speechless.
Qin Hui Yin crouched, gathered his scattered firewood, and heaved the bundle onto her own back.
“You carry my back basket,” she said, nodding at the one she’d set down. “Be careful—what’s inside is important.”
Tang Yi Xiao glanced in. Only a few stalks of “grass” and clumps of dirt. It was light—lighter than his firewood.
He picked it up without a word.
After the two of them left, a figure dropped down from the tree above. Several bird eggs rested in his palm. Standing beneath the branches, he kept his gaze fixed on the direction Qin Hui Yin had gone.
Hah.
She was pretty kind to the people of the Tang Family.