"I’ll take both of them. Eight hundred total. You selling or not?"

Elaine Mercer was jolted awake by that voice.

Her whole body was burning, like she’d been tossed onto a stove. Her head spun so hard it felt ready to split.

Her eyelids were heavy as stone, impossible to lift, but her ears still worked just fine.

It was that trafficker from the next village, the one everybody called Scarface.

Right after that, a woman spoke.

"Only eight hundred? Sure, the older one comes with a kid, but look at her face."

"And that figure, that appearance... send her into the mountains and let her be a shared wife for those brothers, she’d be top-tier goods."

"Those old bachelors would definitely pay more."

It was her stepmother, Gloria Whitfield.

The second Elaine heard the words "shared wife," her chest clenched so hard it felt like a hand was crushing her heart alive.

She shuddered on the pile of rotten hay in the cowshed.

Too vicious.

Gloria Whitfield wasn’t just trying to cut off her way out. She was trying to ruin her whole life.

Elaine fought to open her eyes. In front of her was a battered wooden door, with dim lamplight leaking through the cracks.

Outside, rain came down in sheets. It hammered the roof of the shed with a loud, chaotic rattle, like the whole thing might cave in any second.

She turned her head and looked at the tiny figure curled up in her arms.

Her Ningning. Lily Mercer.

Only three and a half years old.

The child was pitifully thin. A loose, badly fitting floral cotton jacket hung on her small body, something Elaine had resewn from her own old clothes.

The flower-padded jacket was covered in patches. It looked shabby as hell, but to Elaine Mercer, it was the one thing keeping her going.

Lily Mercer slept uneasily, her little lips moving now and then, like she was eating something tasty in her dream.

Elaine’s tears fell all at once.

Four years ago, someone had set her up and pushed her into spending a night with a man she didn’t even know.

She had never gotten a clear look at his face. All she remembered was the military uniform on him, and that his name seemed to be Vincent Holt.

Everything had been such a mess back then. The only thought in her head was to run, fast.

Then she got pregnant with Lily.

She had a child without getting married first. In this village, that was enough to make her the target of endless gossip and side-eyes.

She had endured it for four whole years.

Just so her daughter could get a mouthful of food, she had worked in front of Gloria Whitfield like an ox, day after day, no complaints.

And what did she get in return?

Gloria Whitfield wanted to sell her off into the deep mountains, to be shared and ruined by several men.

And she was even planning to send Lily to an acrobat troupe.

Who around here didn’t know what that troupe was really like?

They called it training, sure, but it was straight-up torture. They starved kids, forced them to jump through rings of fire, and worked them till they were barely human. It was hell on earth.

"The boss of that acrobat troupe already said it. This girl may be skinny, but her frame’s solid, and she’s strong. She’s good stock."

Scarface’s voice drifted in again, clear as day.

"Obviously. This little brat is weirdly strong. Sometimes even I can’t drag her."

Gloria Whitfield spat on the ground, her face full of disgust.

"Alright, enough crap. Eight hundred fifty. That’s the price."

"I’m telling you, if my man finds out about this, I won’t see a single cent of that money."

"Move it. Tonight, while the rain’s coming down hard, take them away."

Elaine Mercer’s fingers clamped down on the straw mat beneath her.

Her nails were almost splitting.

No.

This could not happen. No way.

If she died, fine. Whatever.

But Lily could not, absolutely could not, fall into the hands of those animals.

She had to run.

But right now, her whole body was limp and useless. Just sitting up took everything she had.

The fever had burned through her until every bone in her body ached.

From outside came the sound of money being counted.

"Tsk. These bills are kinda damp."

"It’s pouring out there, obviously. What, you don’t want wet money? Then give it back."

"Want it, want it. How could I not want it?"

Gloria Whitfield laughed, greedy as hell.

"Alright then. I’ll go get the cart. Rain’s way too heavy, road’s a mess. I’ll come back in half an hour to haul them off."

Scarface left.

His footsteps slapped through the mud and rainwater, pat, pat, pat.

Each sound felt like it was stomping straight on Elaine Mercer’s heart.

Then the door creaked open with a long "eee-ah."

Gloria Whitfield came in, carrying a kerosene lamp. The light swung back and forth, so harsh it made people’s eyes hurt.

She shot a look at the mother and daughter on the ground, her face full of naked disgust.

"Drop the act. I can tell you're awake."

Gloria Whitfield lifted her foot and kicked Elaine Mercer in the shin.

Elaine didn’t move.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to.

She simply couldn’t.

"Heh, burning up like this is even better. Saves trouble on the way."

"Elaine Mercer, don’t blame me for being ruthless."

"Life’s hard right now. There’s barely enough grain at home, and that one thousand for your brother’s bride price still hasn’t been scraped together."

"So really, you’re just doing your bit for the family."

"In the mountains, sure, there are a few more men than normal, but if you can bear children, at least you won’t starve."

"And this little money-losing brat..."

Gloria turned her head and glanced at Lily Mercer, lips curling with contempt.

"Sending her to the acrobat troupe counts as teaching her a skill. As long as she doesn’t starve to death, that’s good enough."

Elaine suddenly opened her eyes and stared straight at Gloria Whitfield.

That look was savage, like she wanted to tear her apart alive.

Gloria froze, startled by the hatred in her eyes, and took a step back.

"Jesus, what kind of look is that?"

"Keep glaring like that and I’ll dig your eyeballs right out!"

"Stay put and behave. If you dare run, I’ll break this little dead girl’s legs first!"

Still cursing under her breath, Gloria Whitfield turned and walked out.

She even used a piece of wire to wrap the broken cowshed door up tight, sealing it shut for good.

Elaine Mercer listened to the locking noises outside, and her heart dropped straight to the bottom.

Half an hour.

That was all she had left.

If she and Lily Mercer couldn’t get out within that half hour, their whole lives would be ruined.

She struggled and forced herself up.

"Cough... cough, cough..."

Her throat felt like someone had shoved broken blades down it. It hurt so bad she almost blacked out.

She reached out and gently pushed the child beside her.

"Lily... Lily, wake up. Quick."

Elaine Mercer’s voice was so hoarse it barely sounded human.

The little girl rubbed her eyes, still half asleep.

"Mommy?"

Lily’s voice was soft and sticky with sleep, carrying that tiny nasal sound children had right after waking.

The moment she opened her eyes and saw Elaine’s burning red face, she jerked in fright.

"Mommy, why is your face so red? It looks like a monkey’s butt."

If it had been any other time, Elaine probably would’ve laughed on the spot.

But right now, she couldn’t laugh at all. "Lily, listen to Mommy carefully."

Elaine grabbed her daughter’s little hands. The skin felt rough, almost like sandpaper under her burning palms.

"The bad people are coming soon. They’re here to take us."

"Mom can't get up right now. Be good and crawl out through that hole."

Elaine Mercer lifted her chin weakly toward the gap in the corner of the cowshed.

A stray dog had dug it out before.

An adult couldn't squeeze through, but Lily Mercer was only three and a half, tiny enough to make it.

"After you get out, run toward the back hill. Go find old Mr. Watson. If that doesn't work, find anybody... anybody at all..."

But halfway through, Elaine froze.

Who in the village didn't know exactly what kind of person Gloria Whitfield was?

Who would dare stick their neck out?

And on top of that, it was the dead of night, with rain outside coming down like it wanted to drown the whole world.

Sending a three-and-a-half-year-old child out alone like this... wasn't that basically pushing her to her death?

But if she stayed, what waited for her would be worse than death.

Lily stared at Elaine with those huge, round eyes.

She was little, sure, but she understood way more than people thought.

Just now, through the crack in the door, she had heard every single word that evil woman said.

"Mom, I'm not leaving."

Lily shook her head so hard it looked like a little rattle drum, the tiny tufts of hair on her head bouncing with it.

"That bad woman wants to sell Mom to a bunch of men to be their wife."

"And she wants to sell Lily away to do tricks too."

Tears streamed down Elaine's face all at once.

"You already know all that, so why aren't you running?"

"Lily, be good. If you run first, Mom can figure something out after that."

It was obviously just something Elaine Mercer said to coax a child.

But Lily Mercer didn’t move an inch.

She lifted her tiny hand and pressed it gently to Elaine’s burning forehead.

"Mommy’s sick. Mommy doesn’t have any strength."

"I’m not leaving. I’m taking Mommy with me."

Elaine was so anxious her chest felt tight.

"Why won’t you listen, kid?"

"I’m this heavy, and you’re only this little."

"How are you supposed to take me with you?"

Lily said nothing.

She pushed herself up from the ground.

That faded floral cotton jacket, patched over and over until it was almost all patches, made her look like a chubby little potato wrapped up for winter.

She waddled to the bedside and tugged hard at the torn bedsheet.

"Mommy, lie down."

Her tone was so serious, so steady, that she didn’t sound like a three-year-old at all.

Elaine froze.

"What are you doing?"

"I’ll carry you."

When Lily said it, her little voice came out extra loud, like she was afraid her mother wouldn’t believe her.

Elaine went completely blank, half thinking the fever had burned so hot that even her ears were starting to fail.

"What did you just say?"

"I'll carry you. We'll run together."

Lily was already yanking at the bedsheet, tearing it into long strips.

Her little hands were clumsy and soft, but she worked with deadly focus, serious like this was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Elaine Mercer stared straight into her daughter's eyes.

There wasn't a trace of fear in them.

If anything, there was a fierce, almost ruthless look hidden inside.

Just like that man.

Even though that night had happened only once, Elaine still remembered it crystal clear. The look in that man's eyes had been just as hard, just as unbending.

"Lily, don't mess around..."

Elaine reached out, trying to grab her daughter.

But then she realized something was off.

She couldn't stop the little girl at all.

The strength in Lily's body was weirdly strong, so strong it honestly felt unreal.

Only then did Elaine remember what Gloria Whitfield had said a moment ago.

This child... was a little strange.

Usually, when she worked, Lily could lift a bucket so heavy even grown adults struggled with it, then carry it off at a run like it was nothing.

Elaine had always assumed there hadn't been much water in it.

Could it be...

"Mom, hurry up. That bad guy's gonna be back any second."

Lily urged her again, so anxious her voice was starting to shake.

Outside, the rain kept coming down harder and harder, crashing like the sky itself was about to cave in.

Elaine Mercer bit down hard on her back teeth.

Either way, it was death.

If she stayed here, she was done for.

Even if she died out there, it was still better than being ruined by those animals.

"Okay. Mom’s listening to you."

Elaine Mercer forced herself to roll over, inch by inch, until she was facedown on the ground.

The second she did, her heart felt like it was being sliced open.

A three-and-a-half-year-old child carrying her.

What kind of twisted situation was this?

It was like grinding a mother’s pride straight into the dirt.

But what choice did she have?

She just wanted to stay alive. She just wanted to protect her daughter.

Lily Mercer tied one end of the bedsheet around Elaine Mercer’s waist, then slung the other over her own shoulder.

She pulled it into a dead knot.

The knot looked clumsy, messy even, but it was pulled crazy tight.

"Mom, hold on tight, okay?"