Ruan Mingzi: The Female Lead of the story.

Ruan Mingyan: Blood Sister of Mingzi. A mute.

Old Madam Zhao: The matriach of the Ruan Family.

Madam Mao: A daughter in-law, wife of the 2nd son of Ruan Family.

Ruan Angui: Third son of the matriach. “Ruan Laosan” 3rd Uncle of the Female lead.

Ruan Chengzhang: The eldest male son of the Ruan's 3rd Generation. From the second branch of the 2nd Generation. Cousin of Female lead.

Madam Gao: A kind neighbour that is outspoken, helping Mingzi and Mingyan.

The few women who had come at Ruan Mingzi so aggressively, demanding compensation, left in a rather sorry state.

They were still bickering among themselves, even giving their sons a few sharp smacks as they went — clearly, the argument over repairing Ruan Mingzi’s fence had caused a rift between them.

Still, that was no longer something Ruan Mingzi needed to worry about.

With so many people watching, those women wouldn’t dare try to go back on their word.

The onlookers, having just witnessed such a lively and entertaining scene, and even picked up a bit of Ruan family gossip along the way—departed one after another, thoroughly satisfied.

A few kind souls lingered to exchange a few more words with Ruan Mingzi. They pitied the young girl, having to raise her little sister alone, and told her that if she ever needed help, she should come find them.

Whether those offers came from genuine kindness or polite courtesy, Ruan Mingzi accepted each with gratitude, her manners calm and sincere.

Among them was Madam Gao, the woman who had spoken up for her earlier. She took Ruan Mingzi’s hand gently, her face full of pity.

“ Good child. ” she said softly.

“ You’ve had it hard. If you need any help, don’t hesitate to come to me. And that wound on your forehead—heavens, it looks terrible! Are you sure it’s nothing serious? Maybe you should go see old Grandpa Sun, just to be safe? ”

Old Man Sun lived at the foot of Gouji Mountain, not far from Yuyuanpo Village.

He was the only person for miles around who knew anything about medicine.

Ruan Mingzi smiled sweetly and shook her head. “ Thank you for worrying, Auntie, but it’s really nothing serious. I’ll be fine in a few days. Though… there is actually something I’d like to trouble you with. ”

“ I’d like to ask Uncle Lü to make something for me. I’ll draw a sketch in a bit — could you take it to him and ask how much it might cost? ”

Madam Gao husband, Lü Daniu, was a skilled carpenter — one of the best in the area. His craftsmanship was famous within ten li of the village. When she heard what Ruan Mingzi wanted, she slapped her chest with confidence and said heartily, “No problem at all, child! That’s a small matter.”

Ruan Mingzi went to the kitchen, rummaged through the pile of ashes under the stove, and found a few pieces of charcoal. Then she searched through a half-broken, short-legged cabinet in her room until she found an old garment — so tattered it was nearly a pile of rags. She tore off a piece of the fabric that was still somewhat intact, spread it flat across the cabinet, and began sketching swiftly with the charcoal. Before long, a detailed diagram of a dismantled mechanical device appeared on the cloth.

MadamnGao often helped her husband with carpentry work and knew a bit about construction drawings. She leaned in to take a look, and her eyes widened in astonishment. “This… this looks like a crossbow, doesn’t it?” she murmured, uncertain. Her husband had once been conscripted to craft crossbows for the army, so she had seen military blueprints before — but what Mingzi drew was different, with certain parts and structures unfamiliar to her.

Of course it was different. The blueprint Mingzi drew was that of a modernized crossbow, refined over generations of improvement. In her previous life, Ruan Mingzi had often gone deep into the mountains with geological expeditions. They would sometimes encounter local hunters, and from them, she had learned to use modernized bows and crossbows — deadly accurate, so much so that her colleagues had once joked she was “a sniper trapped in a geologist’s body.”

But now, in this frail body, she could barely draw a bowstring, let alone shoot with power. A bow would be useless to her for now. So she chose the next best thing — to build a crossbow.

She smiled at Madam Gao and said, “I didn’t have time or proper tools, so I only marked the key measurements. Please ask Uncle Lü to take a look and see if it can be made. If not, I’ll think of another way.” Madam Gao folded the cloth carefully, nodding.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have your Uncle Lü take a look as soon as I get home.”

Mingzi saw her to the door, smiling politely. “Thank you, Auntie Gao. I’ll send the money over to Uncle later.”

Madam Gao waved her hand dismissively. “This little thing won’t take him much time! What’s a child like you doing talking about money?” She chuckled and waved again.

“All right, go wash up with your sister. I’ll be heading back.”

Ruan Mingzi only smiled shyly and didn’t argue further. But she had already made up her mind—she would pay. She could accept goodwill, but she would never let a kind person suffer loss because of her.

After Madam Gao left, cheerful and satisfied, Mingzi finally had a moment to herself. She gathered her younger sister, Ruan Mingyan, and began rummaging through the remnants of their small, shabby courtyard for anything still usable.

Half a year ago, when the sisters had been brought back to the old Ruan family home, the matriarch, Granny Zhao, and her daughter-in-law Madam Mao had led a thorough raid through the girls’ belongings. They took everything of value or use — furniture, utensils, tools — anything that wasn’t nailed down. All of it was carted away to the old Ruan house without a shred of shame. What remained now were broken, useless scraps — things too damaged to even burn cleanly for firewood.

For example, the half-cracked water ladle hanging on the kitchen wall.
Most would have tossed it aside, but Mingzi didn’t mind. She found a frayed hemp rope that had been left behind in a corner — soaked by the heavy rain from the night before, swollen and reeking faintly of rot. The kitchen’s open windows had let in plenty of moisture, making it worse. Without flinching, Mingzi tore off the worst rotted sections, discarding them, and knotted together the few still-sturdy pieces into a single long rope. It wasn’t much, but it would do. She tied one end of the rope to the cracked ladle, fashioning a crude but usable water scoop. From the half-collapsed well in the courtyard, she drew up some water.

The sisters washed their faces and hands with that water, using the broken ladle. When the dirt was gone, Mingzi caught sight of her reflection in the water — and paused in mild surprise. Beneath the grime, her face was delicate and striking: graceful brows, clear eyes, bright white teeth. Though thin and pale from hardship, her features were beautiful, with the promise of great loveliness once she recovered her health. Mingzi, she thought with a faint smile. The name suits me indeed.

Her younger sister Mingyan, only five years old, had also scrubbed her little face clean. Her cheeks were now rosy and soft, her wide, bright eyes shining with innocent trust. She looked like a doll carved from jade, and Mingzi’s heart melted at the sight. The once-stoic “face enthusiast” inside her was delighted beyond measure.

Just as Mingzi was about to turn back toward the kitchen, a voice came from outside the wooden gate.

“Ruan Mingzi! Are you home?”

She blinked, then went to open the gate. Outside stood a round-faced little girl, holding something bundled in her arms. From the memories she’d inherited, Mingzi quickly recognized her — this was Lü Ruir, the younger daughter of Auntie Gao.

As soon as Lü Ruir saw her, she thrust the bundle into Mingzi’s hands and said loudly, “My mom told me to bring this to you! She said to tell you — my dad can make that thing you drew! Come by our house in a few hours to pick it up!”

Mingzi was taken aback, still processing the words when Ruir stomped her foot, cheeks puffing up with indignation.

“But don’t think I came here to be friendly! You still owe me for stealing Brother Xiuping from me!”

With that, she spun on her heel and dashed away before Mingzi could say a single word. Looking down, Mingzi unfolded the rough hemp paper wrapping. Inside were two smaller bundles: one containing a few coarse-grain flatbreads and several pieces of pickled white radish, and another with a few clean, soft strips of cotton cloth — clearly meant for bandaging her wound.

Mingzi’s heart tightened. She said nothing, but silently etched this kindness deep into her memory. She fetched a scoop of clean water, gently washed the wound on her forehead — it stung sharply, but she bore it with ease. Then she wrapped the clean cloth around her head, tying it in a neat knot. The white band almost looked like a simple headband, softening her features and giving her a touch of youthful charm.

The two sisters sat together on the earthen bed, sharing the flatbreads and pickled radish. The food was plain, made from coarse grains, yet to Mingzi, it tasted richer than any delicacy she’d ever eaten. Warmth spread from her stomach to her chest, and for the first time in a long while, she felt strength returning to her limbs.

When the meal was done, she stood and clapped her hands lightly. All right, she said, her voice steady, let’s get this kitchen cleaned up. The kitchen, though, was as bare as their courtyard — stripped clean by Granny Zhao and the others. Only the stove remained, along with the lower half of a large water jar, cracked and covered in moss, collecting muddy rainwater. Everything else — the pots, bowls, knives, even the bundles of firewood once stacked in the corner — was gone.

They hadn’t just looted the place.

“They really stripped this place bare,” she murmured to herself.

They took everything!

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