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.

Ruan Mingzi was a girl of remarkable resilience. A little hardship could never make her retreat, if anything, it only strengthened her resolve and filled her with determination.

She hauled up a wooden ladle tied with hemp rope, drawing water from the well. Then she went to the edge of the small courtyard and plucked a shriveled, dried-up loofah from the withered vine that had long lost its green. Peeling off its tough outer skin, she used the fibrous inner sponge along with the ashes from beneath the stove to scrub the large water urn with all her strength.

Little Mingyan didn’t have much strength, but seeing her sister working so hard, she wanted to help too. So she trotted over on her short legs and started wiping down the stove. When Ruan Mingzi looked up, wiping her sweat, she saw the little girl earnestly scrubbing a stove that was almost as tall as she was.

Her movements were practiced, almost too practiced for a child her age. Clearly, she had done her share of chores at  Granny Zhao’s house. But what caught Ruan Mingzi’s heart most was the spark in Mingyan’s eyes — that eager, shining light. Something bright and spirited that made her seem alive in a way she hadn’t before.

Mingzi didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm, though she felt a pang of pity in her heart. After hesitating for a moment, she said softly, “Yanyan, if you’re tired, take a break.” Mingyan gave a wide, silent grin — her freshly washed little face now smudged again with gray dust, making her look like a mischievous kitten. She nodded, then immediately shook her head.

Mingzi chuckled to herself. She understood perfectly—nodding meant she’d listen, shaking her head meant she wasn’t tired. The two sisters exchanged a knowing smile before turning back to their chores with renewed vigor.

But children had their limits. Mingyan’s small head began to droop as sleep crept up on her, bobbing like a chick pecking rice. Seeing that, Mingzi quickly fetched some vines and tied them together with a piece of old rope to make a crude broom. She swept the earthen kang bed clean, then took some tattered clothes from the low cabinet—rags so shabby even the Zhao’s had despised them—and shook the dust out before laying them flat on the kang to serve as a makeshift mattress.

The moment Mingyan’s head touched the bedding, she fell fast asleep, her breathing soft and steady. Mingzi sat beside the kang for a while, watching her sister’s sleeping face. Once she was sure the little girl was sound asleep, she stretched her aching waist, stood up, and prepared to go to the village to buy some necessities.

Counting the coins she had reclaimed from Old Woman Zhao, she had a total of one hundred fifty-two copper coins. The original owner had taken about one hundred and eighty coins to the Ruan family’s old estate—savings painstakingly scraped together by their parents under Zhao’s exploitation. It was nearly all they had left.

Cooking required a knife, a pot, and salt—essentials she could not do without. The village of Yuyuanpo was remote and self-contained. Knives and pots were easy enough to buy at the local smithy, but salt was a government-controlled commodity, available only at authorized shops in the county town.

With that in mind, Ruan Mingzi headed first to the blacksmith’s. She picked out a small, sharp kitchen knife and a large iron pot. Those two alone cost her nearly fifty coins.

Still, they were necessities. Painful as it was, she paid without hesitation.

As she stepped out of the smithy, something caught her eye—a few small single-edged iron blades hanging by the door, their surfaces gleaming faintly. Her eyes lit up.

The blacksmith, a broad-shouldered man with a belly to match, scratched his stomach and said indifferently, “Those? Just scraps my apprentice uses to practice sharpening. Half-finished pieces.” An idea flickered in Ruan Mingzi’s mind.

She asked him to polish one of them for her. The blade was smaller than an ordinary dagger — just right for her hand, suitable for self-defense.

The blacksmith was a kind-hearted man. His wife had gone to watch the commotion that morning and had returned speaking sympathetically of the two orphaned sisters trying to live on their own with nothing but an empty house. So when Ruan Mingzi made her request, he didn’t brush her off.

He refined the blade carefully, honing it to a keen edge, then fitted it with a small wooden handle. From leftover tanned leather scraps, he even fashioned a neat little sheath. What emerged was a compact, beautifully balanced knife — perfect for a young girl.

Ruan Mingzi’s eyes lit up. She had expected only a crude weapon, but what she received was something fine.

“How much do I owe you, Uncle?” she asked, fishing for her coin pouch.

The blacksmith waved a large, calloused hand. “No need. Think of it as a bonus for buying the knife and pot. Just scrap metal and leftover leather. Hardly worth anything.”

But Mingzi was not the kind to take advantage of others. If she wanted to build goodwill and lasting trust in this village, she couldn’t start by exploiting someone’s kindness. She insisted on paying. The blacksmith sighed, shaking his head with a helpless smile. “You’re a stubborn girl, aren’t you?” He finally accepted ten coins.

Relieved, Mingzi thanked him earnestly, paid the money, and carefully placed both the kitchen knife and the dagger into her iron pot before heading out.

Even though she had spent ten more coins than planned, she felt the expense worthwhile.

Next, she stopped by the butcher’s. After a moment’s hesitation, she gritted her teeth and bought ten coins’ worth of fatty pork, a long strip with only a little lean meat. Cheap, but it would do.

Medical care was primitive in this era. Ruan Mingzi figured she’d better fatten herself and Mingyan up a bit — a little more flesh meant better resistance to illness. Getting sick here would be disastrous.

After all her purchases, she still had around eighty coins left. Money went too quickly. She’d have to find a way to earn more soon.

On the way home, hugging the heavy iron pot in her arms, Mingzi’s mind was full of plans for how to make money.

“—Mingzi!”

“Mingzi!”

Someone was calling her name, but she was too lost in thought to hear. The caller ran up behind her, panting, and clapped her on the shoulder.

Startled, Mingzi almost reached into her pot for the kitchen knife. Luckily, the boy hadn’t meant to startle her. He came around to face her, breathing a little hard.

“Mingzi, I’ve been calling you — why didn’t you answer?” He was a handsome, half-grown youth in a freshly washed long shirt, his posture was straight, his expression earnest.

From the original Ruan Mingzi’s memories, she recognized him — Jian Xiuping, the “Brother Xiuping” Lü Ruier had mentioned before.

He was something of a heartthrob in Yuyuan Village. The dream of many girls soon to come of age. Handsome, well-mannered, and, more importantly, talented. He studied under  Scholar Gao from neighboring Niujia Village, who often praised him as bright and promising. With luck, he might even pass the exams and bring honor to his family someday.

Ruan Mingzi adjusted her grip on the heavy pot and hugged it closer to her chest. Using the same polite tone the original owner had.

She asked, “Brother Xiuping, did you need something?” It wasn’t that she was overly cautious — but in this era, people matured early, and gossip spread fast.

Jian Xiuping pursed his lips, shifting the bundle in his hands forward. “I heard you and Yanyan moved out from your grandmother’s place?”

The news had spread through the entire village in less than a day. Life here was simple, and gossip was everyone’s favorite pastime. Mingzi had never intended to hide it, so she nodded without hesitation. Xiuping sighed softly, and the pity in his gaze made Mingzi’s scalp prickle uncomfortably.

“Here,” he said, offering the bundle. “I went by your place earlier, but your gate was locked, so I came to look for you. Good thing I found you .... take this.”

Ruan Mingzi tightened her hold on the pot and stepped back. “You don’t need to pity me. I’ve got money. Look — I even bought pork.” She tilted the pot slightly to show him the strip of fatty meat inside.

Jian Xiuping glanced at the thin streak of lean running through the fat and looked even more sympathetic. That look made Ruan Mingzi’s hair stand on end.

She took another step back, wanting distance. But Jian Xiuping suddenly shoved the bundle into her pot and bolted.

Ruan Mingzi stood there, stunned.

By the time she came to her senses and ground her teeth in frustration, he was already far down the path. With her small frame, there was no way she could chase him. But she couldn’t just accept whatever he had given her, either.

Setting down the pot, she untied the bundle and peeked inside and her eyes widened in shock. There was another smaller bag within, heavy and pale in color.  And when she opened it, her breath caught in her throat.

Three, maybe four jin at least.

Ruan Mingzi’s mouth twitched.

Was Jian Xiuping out of his mind?!