Sold into a ghost marriage? Four-year-old and his thuggish father go on a killing spree.

"Have you heard? Old Gu's second son brought home a bastard child from outside!"

These words came from the well at the east end of Chengjiawan Village on the morning of Lunar New Year's Eve.

The woman speaking was surnamed Zhou. She had been married into Chengjiawan for over ten years, and her mouth was sharper than scissors. As she squeezed well water into the bucket, she spoke in a low voice to the women around her.

"A woman dressed in polyester came to the city, crying and wailing, saying she was some coworker—who believes that? A coworker would travel hundreds of miles to find a man? Tell me, isn't something fishy going on?"

Several women squatted on the edge of the well, listening intently, cracking sunflower seeds in their mouths, their eyes darting around like rattles.

"Do you think that child is actually Gu Yanqiu's?"

"Who knows—what if it belongs to that woman?"

"Hey, you know what, that Li something-lan girl is actually quite pretty..."

These words, as if they had sprouted wings, flew from the well to the kitchen.

From the kitchen to the field ridge, in less than half a day, everyone in Chengjiawan was talking about it.

The main force behind spreading rumors is none other than Sun Xiufen.

Gu Yanchun's wife was very shrewd; she didn't say it directly, but "used other people's mouths" to say it.

She was chatting with Aunt Liu next door in the kitchen, stirring the pot while sighing, "Sigh, I don't know what those people outside are saying—that the second son is having an affair with some woman in the city, and he doesn't even acknowledge the child he had. His female coworker came all the way here to deliver things to him—tsk tsk, it doesn't sound good when this gets out."

Aunt Liu's eyes lit up when she heard this—who doesn't love to hear this kind of risqué gossip? She started spreading it as soon as she left the house.

By the afternoon, the version had become the third generation—"Gu Yanqiu kept a lover in the city, and that woman finally came knocking on his door."

Even more vicious comments followed: "Whether that girl is his biological child is debatable. The Song family doesn't acknowledge her, his maternal grandmother doesn't acknowledge her, and she might just be someone of unknown origin—"

The more than one hundred households in Chengjiawan are scattered in the remote corners of the mountains, and news of them spreads faster than on the radio.

These days, gossip from other people's homes is the best accompaniment to drinks.

When Granny Wang, who lived at the west end of the village, heard about this, she was immediately displeased.

Granny Wang's surname is Zhang. She has been married into Chengjiawan for thirty years; her husband died long ago.

She raised three children single-handedly. She has seen more bitterness than salt in her life, and she can't stand seeing anyone bully children.

She saw Niannian once a few days ago when she was drawing water from the well.

That skinny little girl, as thin as a bean sprout, dragged a carrying pole taller than herself.

She carried two half-full buckets of water, walking unsteadily along the road. The buckets were too heavy, so she had to rest after every two steps, and the carrying pole on her shoulder rubbed a white mark off her cotton-padded coat.

Aunt Wang felt a pang of sadness—she asked Niannian, "Girl, can you carry this water?"

Niannian looked up at her and smiled.

That smile—not the innocent naivety of a four-year-old—was the kind of smile that said, "I can handle it."

Aunt Wang's heart felt like it had been squeezed.

So when she overheard Sister-in-law Zhou gossiping by the well, she immediately exploded.

"If you're so capable, go and talk to Gu Yanqiu in front of him! What kind of skill is it to gossip behind his back?"

Sister-in-law Zhou retorted, "I'm stating the facts—"

"Facts? You saw it? You were there? That Comrade Li is a respectable worker from the provincial capital, Song Wanqing's coworker! What are you calling him? Why don't you talk about yourself? Your man back then—"

Sister-in-law Zhou's face changed color instantly—Aunt Wang was about to expose her past.

"Aunt Zhang, you're spouting nonsense!"

"I'll criticize you? I haven't even started! If you spread another word, I'll expose everything you did back then and let the whole village hear it!"

Sister-in-law Zhou covered her face and ran away.

Half of the women by the well dispersed.

Aunt Wang was carrying a bucket of water, her hands trembling with anger.

She muttered to herself, "Bullying a four-year-old child, committing such a heinous act—"

-

Niannian was unaware of these things.

Or rather, she knows, but she doesn't say it.

Her hearing is better than any adult's.

While sweeping the yard in the morning, she heard voices coming from the other side of the neighbor's yard—

Sun Xiufen's voice was very low, but it was clear to everyone.

"...Bastard...of unknown origin..."

Two words.

Nian Nian paused for a moment while sweeping.

Then she continued sweeping.

He moved slowly, one stroke at a time, but he didn't stop.

After sweeping the yard, she went to feed the chickens.

Six old hens surrounded her, clucking and scattering handfuls of corn kernels evenly, so that even the smallest hen could get some.

Sun Xiufen peeked out of the kitchen window and glanced at her.

She never looked back.

But she knew Sun Xiufen was watching her.

She knows everything.

-

Around 10 a.m., Niannian carried a small wooden bucket to the well to fetch water.

Wang Guifang made her wash the dishes—on New Year's Eve, the Gu family had unusually cooked a pot of white noodle soup, and fine bowls and plates were laid out on the table. Of course, it had nothing to do with Niannian. She and Gu Yanqiu still only got half a bowl of thin corn porridge.

The bowls need to be washed.

The water tank at home is empty; I need to go get some water first.

Niannian carried the bucket out of the courtyard and walked along the dirt road toward the old well at the east end of the village.

The road was quiet.

Every household is busy preparing for the New Year. Smoke rises from the kitchen, and occasionally the crackling sound of firecrackers can be heard—some families couldn't wait and set off a few strings early.

Niannian's cloth shoes clattered on the frozen mud, and the small wooden bucket swayed in her hands.

We got stuck halfway there.

Four or five children were standing under a crooked jujube tree.

The older ones were around ten years old, and the younger ones were seven or eight.

They're all from the village.

The boy standing at the very front, Nian Nian recognized him—Gu Mingyuan.

The son of Gu Yanchun and Sun Xiufen.

Nine years old.

Square face—like his grandfather.

Thick eyebrows—like his father.

But his eyes—like his mother's.

That kind of calculating, malicious shrewdness.

Gu Mingyuan stood with his hands on his hips, blocking the middle of the road, a smug look on his face.

"Hey—Gu Niannian!"

Niannian stood three steps away, carrying a bucket in her hand.

She didn't say anything.

"My grandma says you were adopted," Gu Mingyuan said, raising his voice deliberately so the surrounding children could hear. "Adopted! Not her biological child!"

Several children nearby joined in the commotion—

"Bastard!"

"A motherless bastard!"

"Your mom died and your grandma doesn't want you anymore! Hahahaha—"

The laughter sounded like a flock of crows.

Niannian stood still.

He didn't utter a sound.

Her hands gripped the bucket rope tightly.

The fingers whose nails had been flipped open were throbbing with pain.

Seeing that she remained silent, Gu Mingyuan assumed she was scared and became even bolder. He took two steps forward, reached out, and gave Nian Nian a push on the shoulder.

"Speak up! Are you mute?"

Niannian staggered backward—she was too light, and the nine-year-old boy pushed her over.

She fell onto the muddy ground.

His knee hit a rock, and his cotton pants tore open at the knee.

The small wooden bucket overturned, spilling half a bucket of water that hadn't yet been drawn from the well—ice water that had just been shoveled up and splashed all over the ground.

The children laughed even harder.

Niannian lay on the ground.

Her knees hurt a lot.

The wound on my forehead, which hadn't fully healed, throbbed with pain from the shock.

But she didn't cry.

She climbed out of the coffin.

She walked barefoot for over a hundred miles in the snow.

Being pushed down by a nine-year-old boy—that's nothing.

She slowly got up.

He patted the dirt off his clothes.

He picked up the overturned wooden bucket.

There was still a little less than half a bucket of water left in the bucket—icy, bone-chilling well water.

Niannian carried the bucket and walked up to Gu Mingyuan.

Gu Mingyuan thought she was going to run away—he even reached out to push her again.

But Niannian didn't run away.

She lifted the bucket and splashed it.

A small bucket of ice water was poured over Gu Mingyuan's face.

It was the dead of winter.

The thirtieth day of the twelfth lunar month.

It was the dead of winter, and the mud on the ground had frozen into a hard shell.

Ice water was poured over Gu Mingyuan's head, down his neck, and down his spine—his cotton-padded coat was instantly soaked.

"ah--!"

Gu Mingyuan yelled and jumped up, clutching his head with both hands. The water was so cold that his teeth chattered, and his face instantly turned a liverish color.

The children nearby were all terrified.

The laughter stopped abruptly.

Niannian placed the empty bucket on the ground.

She looked at Gu Mingyuan.

There was no anger in those bright black eyes.

There was only one kind of calm cold that sent chills down the back of a nine-year-old boy.

"Call me a bastard again next time—"

The sound of murmuring was not loud.

But every word is clear.

"I'll use stones."

The three words landed.

It was so quiet that even the wind couldn't be heard.

Gu Mingyuan was soaked to the bone, shivering from the cold, and his lips were purple, but under those eyes, he didn't dare to utter a single word in response.

His instincts told him that his cousin, who was five years younger than him and as thin as a stick, wasn't trying to scare him.

She does what she says.

Niannian bent down to pick up the bucket and turned to walk towards the old well.

She still needs to fetch water.

The dishes haven't been washed yet.

The children behind him didn't dare to breathe.

Gu Mingyuan, shivering, wiped the water from his face and turned to run home—shouting as he ran—

"Mother--!"

He didn't even think about it.

She walked to the well, tied the bucket rope to the well pulley, and started turning it round and round.

The chilblains on my hands cracked open, and blood seeped out, staining the rope of the bucket red.

She gritted her teeth and shook herself round and round.

The bucket sank into the well and filled with a "plop".

She used all her strength to hoist the bucket up.

There was no one by the well.

It's Chinese New Year, and every household is indoors.

Niannian stood alone on the well platform, carrying a bucket of water that was heavier than her arm.

The north wind made her hair all messy.

She took a deep breath, bent down, hugged the bottom of the bucket with both hands, and walked back step by step.

After taking a few steps, the injury on my shoulder started to ache.

She paused for a moment.

I looked up at the sky.

The sky was overcast, as if it were about to snow.

Niannian lowered her head and continued walking.

She knew that once that bucket of water was poured out, the Gu family would not be at peace.

But she doesn't regret it.

My mother once said, "If you don't fight back when someone bullies you, they'll only bully you even more."

In the distance, a sharp wail came from the direction of the Gu family's courtyard—it was Gu Mingyuan's voice.

Immediately following was Sun Xiufen's voice.

"Gu Yanqiu—! You come out here—!"

Niannian's steps remained unchanged.

Not too fast, not too slow.

Step by step.

The water in the bucket sloshed around, splashing out a few drops that landed on the frozen mud road and instantly froze into a thin layer of ice.