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

The uproar at the grain distribution meeting swept through the entire Chengjiawan like a whirlwind.

Gu Yanchun and Sun Xiufen became the biggest laughing stock in the village, and they stayed at home for several days without daring to go out.

The Gu family father and daughter, on the other hand, stood up straight completely.

This autumn night is unusually cold.

Gu Yanqiu is still working overtime at the county agricultural machinery station. He hasn't been home for three days in order to earn a few extra cents in subsidies.

Gu Niannian was the only one in the room.

She held the thick Xinhua Dictionary and, by the dim light of the oil lamp, painstakingly studied it, word by word.

It was late at night, and the wind blew in through the cracks in the door, causing the lamplight to flicker.

In the utter silence, a suppressed, intermittent sobbing suddenly came from next door.

It wasn't the wailing of an adult; it was the sobbing of a child, filled with fear and helplessness.

Gu Niannian's body froze instantly.

It's Gu Xiaohe!

She held her breath and listened carefully.

Sure enough, the crying was mixed with Sun Xiufen's sharp and sarcastic curses!

"You brat! You're a waste of money!"

"Slap!" A crisp slap sounded particularly jarring in the quiet night.

"I sent you to school, to literacy classes! Do you think you're doing justice to the money I spent on you?!"

"That bastard Gu Niannian always gets first place in her exams! And you? Huh? All you do is cry! Will crying bring you food?"

"I'll beat you to death, you worthless wretch!"

The crying grew louder, but was quickly muffled, leaving only muffled "whimpering" sounds.

Gu Niannian's small hands gripped the hem of her clothes tightly.

Before her eyes, another face appeared uncontrollably—the mean and vicious face of her maternal grandmother, Zhao.

She remembered the days when she was locked in the woodshed and beaten by her grandmother with bamboo sticks.

That overwhelming darkness,

That kind of fear that seeps into your bones,

That kind of despair and confusion of "What did I do wrong?"

The same.

Although Gu Xiaohe usually followed her around, imitating the adults and using the most vicious language to mock her.

But she was just a five or six-year-old child.

A poor child who has been corrupted by adults.

That night, Gu Niannian tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.

The sounds of beating and cursing from next door continued for a long time before finally stopping, leaving only the little girl's suppressed, desperate sobs, like a wounded little animal licking its wounds alone in the darkness.

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking.

Gu Niannian was washing up in the courtyard when she saw Gu Xiaohe carrying a broken bowl, her eyes darting around as she came out of the house.

She was wearing an ill-fitting old dress, her hair was messy, and she kept her head down, not daring to look at anyone.

When she raised her arm to pour water, Gu Niannian could clearly see that her thin arm was covered with bruises.

New and old, layer upon layer.

Gu Xiaohe also noticed Gu Niannian's gaze. Like a startled rabbit, she quickly withdrew her hand, covered the wound tightly with her sleeve, and turned to run back into the house.

Gu Niannian watched her terrified back and remained silent for a moment.

She turned and went back to her little hut, breaking off half of a still-warm multigrain bun from her bowl.

This is her breakfast.

Holding the half-eaten steamed bun, she walked to the door of the main room and saw Gu Xiaohe squatting on the threshold, sobbing softly.

She didn't say anything, but silently handed over the steamed bun.

Gu Xiaohe was stunned.

She looked up, her eyes, red and swollen from crying, filled with wariness and confusion.

She looked at her cousin, whom she had always considered an "enemy," and then at the half-eaten steamed bun emitting a simple, fragrant aroma. For a moment, she forgot to react.

In the village, who doesn't just have some thin porridge for breakfast?

For a child, a single steamed bun is an immense luxury.

"For...for me?" Gu Xiaohe's voice was thin and weak, with a strong nasal tone.

Gu Niannian nodded.

Gu Xiaohe hesitated for a long time before finally extending her small, scarred hand and tremblingly accepting the steamed bun.

She clutched the steamed bun tightly in her hand, as if she were holding the most precious treasure in the world.

She didn't eat immediately; she just kept her head down, her small shoulders shrugging.

After a long while, just when Gu Niannian thought she wouldn't say anything more and was about to turn around and leave, a voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz came from behind her.

"……Thanks."

This was the first time the sisters had communicated without hostility.

Gu Niannian paused, but did not turn around.

Her kindness was not a weakness without principles.

She simply couldn't turn a blind eye to the suffering of another child.

She knew that this half-eaten steamed bun could not change Gu Xiaohe's situation, nor could it change the relationship between the two families.

But what she wanted to know even more was whether a seed of hatred, when nurtured with a sliver of kindness, would still bloom into the same wicked flower.