The oppressive quiet of the Xiaoshui night pressed in, broken only by the chirping of crickets and the frantic scuffle of Old Madam Wei’s worn cloth shoes against the packed earth. Her shadow, elongated and grotesque in the faint starlight, stretched towards Yingtao’s shack. Greed tightened its icy grip around her heart, whispering promises of two small bodies, easily sold, easily forgotten. The twins were a golden ticket, a way to reclaim her lost dignity and secure a comfortable future, away from the constant, baffling misfortunes Yingtao seemed to conjure. She neared the doorframe, her gnarled fingers reaching for the rough-hewn wood. A low, barely audible *thwip* broke the silence. A fine, almost invisible tripwire, pulled taut across the threshold, snagged her ankle. Old Madam Wei’s bulk pitched forward. Her arms flailed, unable to catch herself, and she landed with a wet, squelching slap face-first into a shallow, mud-filled depression. Before she could even gasp, a burlap sack, suspended precariously above, ruptured. A deluge of dark, viscous tree sap, mixed with what felt like a thousand startled downy quills, cascaded over her, pasting gray fluff to her face, hair, and every inch of exposed skin. “Aieee! What fresh demonry is this?!” Her scream tore through the night, a raw, furious shriek that echoed across the sleeping settlement. She thrashed, tearing at the sticky plumage, only succeeding in embedding the fluff deeper. “Wei Yingtao! You hussy! You little fox-spirit! You dare plot against your own mother-in-law?!” Inside, Yingtao, who had been feigning sleep beside her slumbering twins, gave a silent, victorious little fist pump under the thin blanket. Blinking through the gloom, she kept her round face slack. “Mother-in-law? Is everything alright? Did a wild boar get into the yard again?” she called out, her voice dripping with the perfect blend of sleepy concern and cheerful cluelessness. The image of Old Madam Wei caked in sap and fluff, flailing in the mud, brought a bubbly laugh to Yingtao’s throat, swiftly stifled. Her honeyed questions only intensified Old Madam Wei’s rage. “Boar?! You little wretch! This is *your* doing! I’ll skin you alive!” The chaotic ruckus was precisely what Wang Daniu had been waiting for. Tucked away behind the abandoned granary, a heavy canvas sack slung over his shoulder, he grinned, his gap-toothed smile barely visible in the dark. The noise was a perfect smokescreen. Lihua’s ‘secret’ stash of forbidden hybrid rice seeds, collected over months from black market peddlers, was now secure. He’d followed her, seen her bury them under the loose floorboards of the communal grain shed. She’d underestimated his dedication to magical pork buns. And to Yingtao. Darting through the shadows, Daniu moved with surprising stealth for a man of his usual languor. He slipped into the Wei family’s main dwelling, bypassing Yingtao’s shack entirely. Old Madam Wei’s room was a pigsty of hoarded scraps and musty fabrics. He didn’t hesitate, lifting the tattered blanket that served as a bedcover and shoving the bulging sack of seeds deep underneath the straw mattress, pressing it flat against the dirt floor. A quick sweep of his eyes confirmed no traces. He melted back into the night, the screams of Old Madam Wei still echoing, a sweet symphony of impending chaos. Morning dawned, revealing Old Madam Wei, a sight to behold. She sat on her porch, a grotesque, matted sculpture, the sap having hardened into a sticky, unyielding shell. Every movement was a struggle, every attempt to remove the quill shafts tore at her skin. Her face was a mask of fury, her eyes, peeking through the sticky crust, narrowed slits of pure vengeance. The entire settlement gathered, pointing and snickering, though none dared approach too closely. Just then, the familiar sight of Lihua, a triumphant smirk painted on her face, strode into the yard. Beside her marched two members of the Public Order Patrol, their uniforms crisp, their faces grim. “There she is, Officer!” Lihua announced, pointing dramatically at Yingtao, who was cheerfully trying to coax a stubborn chicken out from under her shack. “The one who has been hoarding contraband seeds! I have it on good authority she’s hidden them in her living quarters, planning to sell them on the black market!” Yingtao looked up, her expression a picture of wide-eyed confusion. “Contraband seeds? Oh, Lihua-jie, what are you talking about? I only have a few withered bean sprouts. Do you want some? They’re not very pretty.” She held up a small, pathetic-looking bundle. The team leader, Liao, looked skeptically at Lihua, then at Yingtao’s tiny offering. This hardly looked like the stash she’d described. He sighed, adjusting his cap. “We have received a formal complaint, Wei Yingtao. We must search your premises.” “Of course, Officer Liao!” Yingtao chirped, stepping aside. “Please, look everywhere! Just don’t disturb my little Xiaofeng and Xiaoli, they’re still sleeping. They had a bit of a fright last night, with all the shouting.” She gestured vaguely towards Old Madam Wei. Just as Comrade Liao was about to enter Yingtao’s shack, Daniu sauntered over, scratching his head with an air of profound thought. “Oh, Officers, are you looking for seeds?” He gestured vaguely towards Lihua, then towards Old Madam Wei. “I heard Old Madam Wei talking about some… special seeds, just yesterday. She said they were for… ‘a big harvest.’ And she put them right under her bed. Said no one would ever think to look there, especially with her… current predicament.” Daniu’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he subtly nudged his chin toward the quill-crusted Old Madam Wei. He made sure to avoid direct eye contact with Lihua, maintaining his dim-witted facade. Lihua’s smug expression faltered. Her eyes darted from Daniu to Old Madam Wei, a flicker of suspicion crossing her face. Old Madam Wei, meanwhile, let out a croaking, furious denial. “What are you talking about, you lazy good-for-nothing?! I have no seeds! It’s that hussy Yingtao, I tell you!” Liao, now thoroughly confused by the conflicting accusations and the bizarre spectacle of Old Madam Wei, decided to hedge his bets. “Alright, Daniu, show us this ‘big harvest’ location.” He turned toward the main dwelling. “Old Madam Wei, cooperate.” The guards entered Old Madam Wei’s cluttered room. It took only a moment. Jin, a younger junior officer, knelt beside the bed. “Aha! Here it is!” He pulled out the bulging canvas sack, its contents clearly visible: plump, polished hybrid rice seeds, far too many for personal consumption, and clearly not a local strain. Such seeds were strictly regulated, their distribution controlled by the agricultural station. Possession of such a quantity without proper permits was a serious offense. Lihua’s face drained of color. Her jaw dropped as her head snapped toward Daniu, then to Old Madam Wei. The seeds were *hers*. She had hidden them there. But how… Old Madam Wei, seeing the evidence, let out a strangled cry. “My… my bed? What is that doing there?! It’s a trick! It’s Yingtao! That devil-spawn put it there!” “Nonsense!” Lihua shrieked, her voice cracking. “Those are *my* seeds! She must have stolen them and put them there to frame me! Old hag, you’re in on this, aren’t you? You wanted to ruin me!” “You little viper!” Old Madam Wei roared, struggling to rise. “You think I would conspire with that chicken-tailed witch?! You’re the one who sold me out!” The two women, each realizing they had been played, their carefully constructed plots crumbling, lunged at each other. Old Madam Wei, still caked in sap and feathers, stumbled towards Lihua with surprising speed. Lihua, enraged, met her halfway. Their hands became claws, tearing at hair, scratching at faces. The patrolmen, initially stunned, had to jump back to avoid the flailing limbs. Mud, feathers, and furious expletives flew as the two villains engaged in a vicious, hair-pulling brawl, rolling in the dusty yard, a chaotic spectacle of pure, unadulterated rage. Amidst the chaos, as Old Madam Wei wrestled Lihua’s head into a puddle, Lihua’s eyes, wild and unfocused, darted towards Yingtao, who stood by her door, holding her two wide-eyed twins. A glint of green jade caught Lihua’s eye – the unique, smoothly polished pendant nestled against Xiaofeng’s chest. The very same pendant Yingtao always kept near, the one Lihua had only seen in the timeline entry’s cryptic notes, described as a ‘spatial anchor.’ Her fury momentarily forgotten, a new, terrifying focus seized Lihua. With a guttural shriek, she wrenched free from Old Madam Wei’s grip, scrambling through the mud like a feral cat. Before Yingtao could even react, Lihua was upon her, her hand shooting out. Her fingers closed around the jade. With a violent yank, she ripped it from Xiaofeng’s neck, the thin cord snapping with a faint *pop*.

Daniu's Revenge