The autumn sun had already climbed high, its harsh light pouring down over the fields without mercy. The soil, dry and stubborn, broke apart in rough clumps under the wooden plough, each turn releasing a faint, dusty breath into the air.
Li Shuying worked in silence beside her brothers. Li Jianmin drove the plough forward with steady effort, while Li Jianguo followed behind, adjusting the furrows. Li Shuying moved alongside them, her hands assisting where needed, her steps measured, but her attention was elsewhere.
Again and again, her gaze drifted toward the narrow dirt road that wound toward the riverbank.
But she saw nothing except the occasional figure of villagers moving between fields. Yet her heart refused to settle. She had done everything she could. Every step had been carefully arranged and yet, the outcome still rested in hands far beyond her control.
'Would they believe it?' That question pressed against her thoughts like a weight she could not shake.
Her plan had never been perfect. In truth, it was fragile, balanced not on evidence, but on belief.
For all the campaigns and proclamations against feudal superstition, she knew something the officials preferred not to acknowledge, faith did not vanish simply because it was forbidden.
It lingered quietly, stubbornly, in the hearts of the people. In whispered prayers before sleep, in incense burned behind closed doors, in the instinctive reverence for signs and omens when hardship loomed too large to grasp.
And it was upon that unspoken belief that she had gambled everything. If they believed, even a little, then her plan might succeed. If they dismissed it entirely… then nothing would change. And once the wheat was sown, history would repeat itself.
The harvest will fail, granaries will be emptied. And slow, creeping hunger will turn desperation into something far uglier.
That was why she could not afford hesitation now.
That bamboo sheet… her so-called "prophecy," ...it had not been written at random.
She had chosen her words carefully.
Instead of a direct warning, she had written it as a classical verse, something with rhythm, something that carried the weight of thought and tradition. In her previous life, she had heard it in an online drama depicting this very era, in which a small piece of poem had gained fame for its quiet truth, for the way it spoke of disaster not with panic, but with clarity.
Simple lines and simple wisdom, but beneath them… a warning sharp enough to cut through ignorance.
Her intention had been clear, not to frighten them blindly, but to make them believe that whoever left that message was no ordinary person. Not a madman, but someone learned, someone perceptive… someone worth listening to.
Because in times like these, people did not follow fear alone, they followed authority. And if they believed that authority came from something beyond their reach… Then perhaps they would act.
A bead of sweat slid down her temple, but she did not notice. Her eyes were still fixed on that road.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly, each moment heavier than the last.
Suddenly three figures appeared at the far end of the road, walking with hurried, purposeful strides.
Li Shuying's breath stilled. Even at a distance, she recognized them immediately, Chen Deshun, Liu Zhenshen and Brigade Leader Shu.
Their steps were quick and expressions tense. Their posture rigid with urgency. They did not look at the fields, did not slow, did not speak to passing villagers. Instead, they moved straight toward the commune office as though time itself was pressing against their backs.
Li Shuying's grip on the plough loosened. For a brief moment, she simply watched them, her sharp gaze tracing every movement, every subtle detail.
Then a faint smile touched her lips and the tightness in her chest eased, just slightly.
It was not certainty but it was enough to tell her that the seed she had planted… had taken root.
"Shuying…?"
The voice broke through her thoughts like a stone dropped into still water.
Li Shuying blinked and turned, the faint smile that had lingered on her lips vanishing at once. A few paces away, Li Jianmin stood with both hands gripping the wooden plough handle, his broad shoulders tense with strain. Sweat darkened the collar of his coarse gray shirt, and his chest rose and fell heavily from dragging the oxless plough through the hardened autumn field.
"Yes, Third Brother?" she asked, regaining her composure.
Li Jianmin frowned, breathing hard as he wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist, "What is wrong with you today?" he asked, slightly irritated but not harsh. "I have been calling you for quite some time. Why did you not answer?"
Shuying lowered her gaze briefly.
How could she explain that her mind had been wandering toward the commune office. She simply shrugged, "I am sorry," she said lightly. "I was lost in thought." Then, lifting her head, she asked, "Why were you calling me?"
Li Jianmin jerked his chin toward a jagged stone lodged in the middle of the furrow ahead, "That stone," he said between breaths. "Move it. I will be pulling the plough through there next."
Shuying nodded immediately.
Without another word, she strode across the loosened earth. She crouched beside the stone, and with a grunt of effort, lifted and tossed it aside into the bordering ditch.
As she straightened, preparing to return to her brothers, animated and excited voices reached her ears.
Turning slightly, she saw a small cluster of village women gathered near the edge of the field path beneath a crooked willow tree. At the center stood Chen Meilan.
And surprisingly Chen Meilan looked… pleased.
That alone was enough to catch Shuying's attention. Normally, Chen Meilan carried herself like a quiet reed, soft-spoken, reserved, almost painfully modest. Yet now, though still shy, there was a flush of happiness on her face.
Curious, Shuying stepped closer, staying just near enough to hear.
One of the women leaned forward eagerly and asked, "So it is true? Those soldiers… they are really from your husband's unit in Baicheng?"
Chen Meilan lowered her eyes, her cheeks reddening, "Mmm," she answered softly, almost embarrassed. "My children recently went to Baicheng… and they met one of the soldiers assigned to our village."
At once, the women erupted into excited chatter.
"Aiya, Meilan, you truly have fortune!"
"No wonder your children carry themselves differently!"
"You are a military wife after all!"
Praise fell over Chen Meilan like sudden rain. She turned even redder, her fingers twisting nervously in the edge of her sleeve.
One older woman, whose weathered face carried both desperation and calculation, stepped forward, "Meilan," she said, lowering her voice as if discussing family matters. "You know my son, don't you? Nineteen already. Still no proper direction in life."
She sighed deeply, "He insists on going to the city, says he wants to make something of himself. But what can he do? He did not even finish middle school, let alone higher studies. Finding decent work in the city is harder than climbing Heaven's gate."
The other women nodded sympathetically.
"So I was thinking…" she continued, smiling hopefully. "Could you perhaps speak to those soldiers? See if my boy can be recruited into the army?"
She leaned in closer, "After all, you are a soldier's wife. You count as military family. Surely they would not refuse your words, yes?"
Before Chen Meilan could even react, another woman immediately pushed forward.
"Yes, yes, exactly! Ask for my son too. He is hardworking, just rough-tempered."
A third woman joined in, clasping her hands eagerly, "And my daughter! She is educated, knows how to read and write properly, even finished middle school. If there is a good army officer… perhaps a match could be arranged? If you help us, Meilan, my family will remember your kindness forever."
The requests came one after another like waves, and even distant cousins were suddenly mentioned.
Chen Meilan stood stunned. Her naturally gentle temperament left her utterly unequipped for such direct demands.
She could not reject them outright, doing so would seem rude, even arrogant. Yet how could she agree?
Her husband was only a squad leader. A minor military post. He held no authority over recruitment, no influence over officer marriages, no control over assignments.
And she herself, living far away in this commune, had even less.
Her lips parted. She forced a polite smile, though panic flickered in her eyes, "I…I can write…" she stammered.
But before she could finish a cool, mocking voice sliced through the air behind them.
"Do you not think you are asking the wrong person?"
Chen Meilan's smile froze and all heads turned only to see walking along the narrow path between fields was Zhang Xiuli.
Her pace was unhurried, almost elegant, her steps light despite the uneven ground. A faint lace-edged scarf rested over her shoulder, unusual enough in the dusty commune to make her stand apart. Her expression cold, composed, almost severe.
But now there was a mocking smile curved across her otherwise unsmiling lips.
"A mere squad leader's wife," Zhang Xiuli continued, her voice calm but edged like polished steel, "has no authority over army recruitment… let alone the power to arrange a respectable officer for someone's daughter." Her gaze swept across the gathered women, "Do not confuse military association with actual influence."
The women immediately fell silent. Embarrassment flickered across several faces.
Chen Meilan's expression turned pale. Her hands tightened into her sleeves.
A few paces away, Li Shuying's eyes narrowed sharply, she had expected this. How could Zhang Xiuli let go of humiliation so easily? Not after what had happened involving her children.
Zhang Xiuli would not let matters rest quietly, yet a deeper frown creased Shuying's forehead.
This wasn't right, Zhang Xiuli was not Wang Chunhua, a loud-mouthed village shrew who liked to confront people.
Zhang Xiuli was dangerous precisely because she was controlled. She rarely confronted people directly. She preferred quiet words, and dirty tricks… the kind that spread like poison through water.
So why was she stepping out openly now Why publicly embarrass her mother?
Shuying's instincts sharpened. As far as she understood Zhang Xiuli, this woman never moved without purpose.
If she had appeared here now, then she was not here merely to mock. She was here for something calculated.
Li Shuying did not step forward, instead, she stood where she was, and simply observed.
Chen Meilan's face stiffened for the briefest moment, but she quickly forced a faint, courteous smile. She lowered her eyes slightly and said softly to the gathered women, "Xiuli is right. My husband truly does not have authority over the matters you are asking about. Army recruitment are not things he can decide."
"But… if any recent recruitment is happening, I can still write him a letter and ask whether he has heard anything. If there is news, I will let everyone know."
Her voice was gentle, careful not to offend anyone, yet this time no one seemed to hear her. Or perhaps, no one cared.
The women's attention had already shifted on the scarf draped across Zhang Xiuli's shoulder.
Under the pale autumn sunlight, the cloth stood out sharply.
One woman leaned forward with wide eyes. "Aiyaa, Xiuli… your scarf looks expensive."
Another woman reached out slightly, though not daring to touch it, "It is beautiful too," she said enviously. "Look at the lace edges… such fine workmanship. Where did you get it?"
A murmur of admiration spread among them. In a village where most women wore rough homespun cloth, a single elegant scarf was enough to draw every eye.
But Zhang Xiuli did not answer, not even a glance. Instead, she turned her gaze back to Chen Meilan, "Second Sister-in-law," she said calmly, her tone deceptively mild, "you say you will write to Second Brother-in-law." She paused, "And do you truly think… he can fulfill even one of their requests?"
Chen Meilan's smile tightened. By now, she was certain, something was wrong. Zhang Xiuli was never this open to converse and liked ri distance herself with everyone.
Chen Meilan steadied herself, "Xiuli," she said carefully, still maintaining composure, "I did not say your second brother-in-law could fulfill their requests. I only said… we can ask. If I write him a letter, he may at least inquire."
Her voice remained soft and reasonable.
Zhang Xiuli stared at her for a long moment. Then a low, sarcastic chuckle escaped her lips, "There is an old saying," she said slowly, "The wife who stays beneath the village eaves dreams she can command the court because her husband once stood near its gate." Her gaze sharpened faintly.
The air shifted and even the women grew quieter.
Then Zhang Xiuli turned from Chen Meilan and addressed the others instead, "If you truly seek favors," she said coolly, "stop counting on Second Sister-in-law." Her lips curved faintly, "I think… you would do better to ask Wang Xiuying."
Absolute silence fell around them and even the wind sweeping across the dry fields seemed to falter.
Chen Meilan's face went pale at once.
The women who had just moments ago been fussing over scarf froze awkwardly in place, their expressions stiffening.
Not far away Li Shuying's pupils contracted sharply.
Wang Xiuying?
The name struck her like cold iron and than emories surged sharp and bitter from her previous life. Her fist tightened unconsciously at her side. So this was Zhang Xiuli's purpose. She had come here to ignite something far uglier.
One of the older women stole a careful glance at Chen Meilan's pale face, then forced an awkward smile, "W...Wang Xiuying… is coming back?"
Zhang Xiuli's gaze never once left Chen Meilan. She watched every flicker of color drain from her face. Then, with quiet satisfaction, she nodded, "Yes." Her voice was soft, "Wang Xiuying… and her daughter are returning."
Chen Meilan's lips parted slightly.
Her daughter too?
Her already pale complexion turned almost ghostly.
At that moment, Zhang Xiuli felt a silent thrill of satisfaction. Exactly that was the reaction she had wanted. She tilted her chin and continued, "And this time… she is returning for a long stay."
The women exchanged startled looks.
One frowned deeply, "A long stay?" she repeated. "But… is she not a factory worker in Anshan?"
Another woman nodded immediately, "Yes, yes. Two years ago, when she came back, she said she had already received urban household registration." Her voice carried open envy. "She said she eats from state grain ration now."
Another woman clicked her tongue, "I heard the same. Your mother-in-law boasted about it to the whole village. She even carried the registration booklet everywhere and showed it to everyone."
A few women nodded awkwardly, remembering.
Then her brows furrowed, "So if she truly works in the Anshan factory, how can Wang Xiuying suddenly live for so long here?"
Zhang Xiuli's expression softened into practiced casualness, "Oh, it is nothing much," she said, adjusting the lace-edged scarf over her shoulder. "You all know how bitter the winters in Anshan can be. Once the northern winds begin, even iron seems to crack."
A few women nodded instinctively. Everyone in the northeast knew the cruelty of Liaoning winters.
She continued lightly, "And with the growing border tensions, the military has tightened control over the region. Some factory operations are being suspended through winter, so many workers have been allowed to return home temporarily."
"So Wang Xiuying thought of coming back to the village. We received her letter this morning."
One woman blinked and frowned, "Then why haven't I seen Wang Chunhua shouting about it across the whole village?" Her tone carried unmistakable disbelief, "Whenever a letter arrives from Wang Xiuying, she is always the first one to wave it around like an imperial decree. Usually by noon, half the commune already knows."
That drew a few dry chuckles.
Another woman clicked her tongue thoughtfully, "I think Wang Chunhua is still in the county hospital. You didn't hear what happened to Li Guofu last night?" she asked, lowering her voice.
That was enough. Like dry straw catching fire, the conversation shifted instantly.
Zhang Xiuli, however, had already lost interest.Their chatter meant nothing to her. Her eyes remained fixed on Chen Meilan. There was still that faint, unsettling smirk on her lips.
Then she stepped closer so that only Chen Meilan could hear her. Her voice dropped low, smooth as silk… and twice as dangerous, "Sister-in-law," she murmured, "there is one thing no one can deny." Her eyes flickered faintly, "Second Brother-in-law is a very good looking man. Truly… even among city men, he would stand out."
Her gaze swept over Chen Meilan, slowly and deliberately, then came the blade, "And look at you." Her tone carried almost pitiful disbelie, "You stayed behind in this village while he serves away from home in city"
Her lips curved slightly, "You already look older than him." Zhang Xiuli clicked her tongue, "Tch… tch… A man in the city. A wife left behind in the countryside." Her eyes narrowed. "Who knows? Perhaps there is already some city woman near him."
She tilted her head, "After all, he is a grown man and a good looking one. I am sure there are women in the city who would gladly throw themselves at him."
That did it. Chen Meilan's eyes sharpened like drawn knives. Her voice, usually soft and restrained, rose sharply, "Zhang Xiuli! Do not forget who you are speaking of," she said coldly. "That is your brother-in-law." Her voice tightened further, "And more importantly, he is a soldier."
Zhang Xiuli did not retreat as well. Instead, she widened her eyes in practiced innocence, "Sister-in-law, do not misunderstand me. I never questioned Second Brother-in-law's integrity." She lifted one hand gracefully, "I only wonder about the women around him."
Then her gaze traveled slowly over Chen Meilan from head to toe, this time without concealment with open scrutiny. A faint frown crossed her face, "And you…"
Her voice softened, but the cruelty beneath it sharpened, "...What happened to you?" She shook her head slowly, "Weren't you once known as the prettiest woman across hundred li?"
Her eyes lingered on Chen Meilan's weathered cheeks, roughened hands, faded clothes, "How did you change so quickly?" She sighed, almost regretfully, "You now look like an aging village shrew."
The words struck like a slap, "You should care for yourself more," Zhang Xiuli continued quietly. "A woman who neglects herself… may one day find another woman taking her place."
Chen Meilan's fists clenched so tightly her knuckles whitened, her eyes reddened with humiliation, anger and fear all at once. "You..." But before she could speak, Zhang Xiuli had already turned away.
Chen Meilan stood rooted in place, pale and trembling, her earlier modest warmth completely gone.
Behind the crooked willow tree at the edge of the path another figure remained hidden in shadow. Zhao Hongmei, she had heard everything. Not a word had escaped her.
Her expression shifted with complicated emotion. Aunt Wang Xiuying was returning?And with her daughter? At once, a chill crawled down Zhao Hongmei's spine.
Memories surfaced of that sharp-tongued woman with terrifying temper. That daughter no less arrogant and crazy. Even now, remembering them made her uneasy.
She swallowed hard, yet beneath that fear a flicker of satisfaction emerged. If Wang Xiuying and her daughter returned then Li Shuying's peaceful days would likely end.
That mother-daughter pair had always been trouble and Li Shuying would inevitably cross paths with them. The thought brought Zhao Hongmei a dark, guilty relief.
Then suddenly a new thought struck her. Her eyes widened, "Should I tell Mother?" She muttered it under her breath.
If Wang Xiuying was truly returning, her mother would want to know immediately.
There was no hesitation after that. Decision made, Zhao Hongmei spun around and hurried off, toward the field where her mother was working.
Meanwhile, not far away in the commune office another drama was taking place.