The Nightmare Experience of a Useless Person

"But one in ten thousand, I became pregnant. The Jiang family, who had gone mad, would come to my room every day at dawn to read the Four Books and Five Classics. I disliked eating fish the most, but he said that eating fish would make the child intelligent, so he made me eat fish every day, at every meal. I felt uncomfortable and nauseous, so he would force it into my mouth, cover my face, and not let me vomit."

Ten months of pregnancy, the torment was relentless, day after day, until the day of the Laba Festival when the baby boy was born, and only then did he finally offer me a moment's respite. A strange sense of joy welled up within me; finally, finally, this piece of flesh from the Jiang family was gone, and my body was finally clean…

After Zhiyang was born, the days of a harmonious marriage never came. I lived alone in the backyard; the Jiang family rarely visited, and I didn't know how to treat him. We had been intimate, we had gone through the proper betrothal, we had a child. I should love him, shouldn't I? But when I saw him, all I could recall was the pain and humiliation of our first night. I couldn't love him, it was impossible for me to love him…

Zhiyang has grown up. When he has time to spare, he will come to the backyard to find me. I should love him and be close to him, but when I see him, I am afraid and terrified. My child, why does he have the blood of the Jiang family flowing through his veins!

The Jiang family is guilty because they raped me and wasted my life, but I am also guilty because I can never give Zhiyang a normal mother.

Later, Zhiyang disappeared, and that man surnamed Jiang came to my room again. He said that what he wanted was not a son, but a son who would become the top scholar in the imperial examination. He went mad, and I went mad too. I poked his eyes with chopsticks, slashed his neck with porcelain shards, and smashed his body with a stool. He finally shattered, just like me.

With this book, I record my broken life and recount my grave sins. Also, I hope that my son Zhiyang will be different from the Jiang family and different from me, that he will be loved by others and have someone to love.

Yu Anyi's Last Words

……

A gentle breeze rustled the evergreen leaves, startling a few birds that fluttered their wings and flew away from the branches, shaking off a cloud of dust.

Qingjun raised her head, and a faint sunlight shone through the gaps onto the back of her hand. It was a very vivid scene, but everything in front of her seemed to be covered by a layer of white light. Then, she felt dizzy, and everything in front of her spun around and slowly turned into a mess.

What's wrong? What's wrong with her? Suddenly, many things seem blurry. Who is she? Where is she?

She is a goddess who looks down upon the mortal world and prays for longevity; she is a goddess revered by all living beings and possesses great spiritual power; she is the calmest, widest, and most inclusive river beyond heaven and earth; she witnesses the fusion and birth of all life, so why does she feel pain?

It felt as if a knife was gouging out her eyes, the pain causing her to shed a single tear that trickled down her cheek and into her mouth, tasting like lotus seed heart mixed with bitter ginseng.

Is this the taste of Yu Niang's bitterness? Is this the taste of Jiang Zhiyang's bitterness? Is this the taste of human suffering?

She didn't know that she had existed for a thousand years, observing the human world from afar for a thousand years, blessing all living beings for a thousand years, and being worshipped by people for a thousand years. This was the first time she had tasted such a flavor. So this was what those people who knelt before the statue of the Goddess of Longevity and shed tears felt in their hearts...

The bewildered goddess was plunged into darkness, gloom seeping into her body, her head spinning, her hands and feet numb, as if she had merged with the cold winter.

She longed to close her eyes and let the cold rage on, but then someone came, holding a torch, slowly approaching.

The faint firelight flickered, dispelling the darkness and melting the frost, casting down a radiant light, like the sun, bringing a warm orange hue.

She felt a soft touch beside her ear, but her body felt heavy. Was someone holding her hand? She couldn't move her legs either.

Qingjun opened his eyes with difficulty. Before him was the person holding the torch. He was asleep, but his brows were furrowed as if he were worried, and his long, distinct eyelashes trembled slightly.

Jiang Zhiyang is a mediocre man who challenges the gods, a rogue who doesn't know manners, a carefree and unrestrained youth, and the most gentle and steadfast support in Leshantang. But Qingjun forgot that he was also just a wounded and suffering child.

Under the covers, his large hands clasped together, cupping Qingjun's hands in a soft, warm, and slightly damp sweat.

But his hands and wrists were covered with deep and shallow scars. Qingjun carefully reached out to his wounds and gently stroked the scars with her fingertips.

But suddenly, as if touching his unhealed wound, the person in front of her opened his eyes in pain and met her gaze.

Jiang Zhiyang's eyes were like clear glass beads. After only a second of eye contact, he timidly looked away. In the past, he would have stood there in a daze for a while.

He tried to get up, but perhaps because his arm was numb, he tumbled back onto the bed, kicking up a cloud of silvery-white dust.

Feeling somewhat awkward, he subconsciously looked for Qingjun's eyes to test her reaction, only to be met with a pair of smiling, curved eyes.

All around, dust motes danced and fluttered like sunbeams, then drifted gently down.

"You, you're awake." Jiang Zhiyang stammered, uttering a greeting he couldn't escape because of the commotion he'd caused.

"Hmm." Qingjun pulled away from Jiang Zhiyang's hand and stood up. Only then did she see that Xiaotao and Ali were each covering one of their feet, and on their stomachs was a warm wolf. They were also asleep, their breathing even as they rose and fell.

Hearing the noise, Xiulian, who was reading by the bedside, got up and asked, "Sister Qingjun, how are you feeling now?"

Before she could answer, a warm hand covered Qingjun's forehead. Xiulian touched it with her hands in front and behind her back, but not quite figuring it out, she simply pressed her soft cheek against it.

"You're much better." Xiulian leaned closer with concern, but didn't let her escape from under the covers. "You caught a cold and even fainted. It's all thanks to Ah Lang and Brother Jiang Shuo. Brother Jiang Shuo carried you back."

As she spoke, she glanced at Jiang Zhiyang, cleared her throat, and lowered her voice even further. "When Brother Zhiyang saw this, he was so angry he wanted to grind his teeth."

The person beside me, adjusting their clothes, pretended not to hear and timidly avoided eye contact.

"However, the window was fixed by Brother Zhiyang, so it won't let in any drafts now."

Qingjun turned his head and saw that the window was indeed closed tightly, and the window paper had been replaced. The sunlight that came in had lost its dim yellow hue and revealed a fresh appearance.

"Thanks."

"What are you thanking me for?" Jiang Zhiyang stood up with his feet on the ground, but turned his back to her. "You're really stupid. You didn't even say the window was broken, and you just let the cold wind blow on you. What season is it now? How can a frail young woman like you withstand this? Never mind, I'm going to get the medicine."

Jiang Zhiyang uttered a few words and then hurriedly left the stage, taking three steps at a time, tripping over his own feet and hitting his left hand with his right.

"Hahaha, he's walking with the same foot on the same side." Xiulian laughed without any attempt to hide her laughter.

"By the way, Xiulian, what day is it today?"

"Today is the fifth day of the Lunar New Year, and the day after tomorrow is the eighth. There will be a lantern festival in the city!"

Is the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month Jiang Zhiyang's birthday? I wonder if he will be overjoyed on that day, or disguise himself as a lonely ghost in the courtyard and secretly shed tears alone?

"Sister Qingjun, you'll never believe it! This time, Old Jiang actually agreed to let everyone go to the lantern festival!" Xiulian excitedly shook Qingjun's arm, pressing closer to her. "Half an hour! Even though we can only play for half an hour, it's been so long since I've been back to Rongcheng!"

Will Jiang Zhiyang be happy about the lantern festival?