Chapter 1
In the year 1950 of the Common Era, under the wise rule of Emperor Qianlong, the Central Plains enjoyed favorable weather, national peace and security, and a prosperous populace. However, just as spring was about to arrive this year, a season that should have been one of bountiful harvests for every household, a devastating flood, the likes of which had not been seen in a decade, struck unexpectedly.
Ten consecutive days of torrential rain caused the Yellow River to rise relentlessly, eventually leading to this catastrophic flood. From the middle reaches, starting with Yunnan and Sichuan, all the way to the lower reaches of Jiangxi and Zhejiang, no province was spared. Across the regions, families were shattered, farmlands were destroyed, and the situation was utterly tragic.
The wise and capable Emperor Qianlong was deeply troubled by this. Although the nation was wealthy and the people strong, facing such widespread calamities simultaneously proved challenging. As the saying goes, “distant water cannot quench a nearby fire.” The officials dispatched for disaster relief could not reach the affected areas immediately. For this reason, the prime ministers, generals, officials, and even Emperor Qianlong himself had been working tirelessly for days, seeking solutions and strategies to address the disaster.
Following the Emperor’s decree, each province opened its granaries and distributed rice to the people to alleviate their hunger and ensure they had food for their three daily meals. Simultaneously, temporary shelters were constructed near the disaster areas to provide temporary housing for those whose homes had been destroyed.
Unfortunately, the scale of this disaster was overwhelming, and the number of affected people was immense. The grain reserves in the granaries were simply insufficient to meet the demand. Large quantities of grain and supplies dispatched from the capital were delayed due to the long distance. In just half a month, the granaries were emptied.
With local supplies dwindling, the victims suffered from hunger and cold, leading to widespread famine. Countless people starved to death on the streets or perished in the wilderness. In their desperate struggle for survival, some resorted to looting and violence. Even in areas unaffected by the flood, where local officials had strengthened security, the sheer number of refugees made it difficult to control the situation, resulting in widespread panic.
Li Xinjun, a nine-year-old girl, was once the cherished daughter of a wealthy family. She should have been living a carefree life, spending her days reading and painting. However, this disaster shattered her world, leaving her orphaned and homeless. This once beautiful and bright little girl was now dressed in tattered clothes, her long, unkempt hair tangled and messy. Her face was covered in grey dust, making her appear no different from a beggar.
Poor Li Xinjun hadn’t eaten anything for four days, surviving only on water. Already slender, she was now emaciated to the point where her cheeks were sunken. She wandered aimlessly, trying to find the road to the capital. Her parents, in their desperate attempt to survive, had planned to take their only daughter to the capital, which had remained untouched by the disaster.
Tragically, they encountered other starving refugees along the way. Seeing their horse-drawn carriage, the refugees assumed it must contain food and valuables. Driven by desperation and greed, they attacked the family, disregarding any sense of morality, to seize the food.
Li Xinjun’s parents sacrificed themselves to protect her. The refugees, having obtained the food, didn’t harm the child and left. Thus, Li Xinjun narrowly escaped death but became an orphan.
Unfamiliar with the route, Li Xinjun followed the road. Fortunately, the refugees had only taken the food and money, leaving behind their water canteen. Otherwise, without food or water, the nine-year-old wouldn’t have survived for four days. However, even for a child, relying solely on water couldn’t sustain her for long. As she continued her shaky steps towards the capital, her body finally gave out, and she collapsed on the ground.
Li Xinjun weakly lifted her water canteen to her lips, only to find it empty. She lay prone on the ground, gasping for breath. Tears streamed down her face as she felt a surge of despair. She didn’t want to die alone in this desolate place. If she had known she wouldn’t reach the capital, she would have fought back against the refugees who killed her parents. The memory of witnessing their murder haunted her, and she longed to avenge them. But at that moment, she chose to obey her parents’ dying wish and embarked on this uncertain journey alone.
After an unknown amount of time, Li Xinjun’s vision blurred, and her clenched fists loosened. In a daze, she seemed to see her parents standing in the distance, beckoning her. A long-lost smile appeared on her face.
“Father, Mother, are you here to take me?” After that, Li Xinjun lost consciousness.
When she woke up, Li Xinjun slowly opened her eyes. She could vaguely see herself lying in a room, but it wasn’t one she recognized. She slowly turned her head, observing her surroundings. It appeared to be a simple and humble dwelling, but clean and tidy. Apart from the bed she was lying on, there was only a square table and four long benches surrounding it.
She tried to sit up but lacked the strength. Perhaps it was due to prolonged starvation. She slowly turned onto her side, attempting to use her arms to push herself up. At that moment, the wooden door opened, and someone entered. Seeing Li Xinjun struggling to sit up, the person rushed over to help. Before Li Xinjun could react, Song Ling had pulled her up.
She looked at Song Ling with a bewildered expression. Song Ling smiled gently at her.
“It’s good that you’re awake. I was so worried about you.”
Saying this, Song Ling reached out and caressed Li Xinjun’s cheek. Li Xinjun, looking at the beautiful young woman who had suddenly appeared, her face filled with affection, felt a mix of emotions she couldn’t describe.
“Did you save me? Thank you.”
Li Xinjun looked at Song Ling with gratitude. Song Ling, seeing Li Xinjun’s thin frame, gently patted her head with a pained expression.
“Yes, I brought you back.”
Song Ling was a lay disciple of the Tianshan Sect. She was skilled in medicine and magic. Knowing the severity of the disaster and the countless deaths on the streets, she had descended from the Tianshan Daoist Temple to offer her assistance in treating the victims and guiding the souls of the departed. While passing by the road, she spotted Li Xinjun lying unconscious. She rushed over and carefully checked her pulse.
Confirming that there was still a pulse, she examined the child closely. Apart from her unkempt appearance, she noticed that the child had delicate features. She thought that if she were cleaned up and dressed in proper clothes, she would be a very pretty child.
Skilled in martial arts, she effortlessly lifted Li Xinjun into her arms and carried her towards her sect’s house in the nearby bamboo forest. This house belonged to the Tianshan Sect and was typically used by disciples for temporary accommodation during their training journeys.
Song Ling gently laid Li Xinjun on the bed in the house and went out to hunt for food so the child would have something to eat upon waking. She had just returned when she heard a sound from the room. Upon entering, she saw Li Xinjun trying to get up.
Song Ling, who already had a fondness for Li Xinjun, felt even more drawn to the child in her vulnerable state.
“What’s your name?”
“Li Xinjun.”
“Xinjun, where are your family members? Why were you unconscious on the road alone?”
“My parents were killed by a group of starving refugees on the way. I fled for my life, but after days without food, I collapsed from exhaustion.”
Song Ling’s heart ached upon hearing Li Xinjun’s story. A once happy family had been torn apart by the flood, leaving the child alone and with an uncertain future. Song Ling looked at Li Xinjun with compassion and squatted down to her level.
“If you don’t mind, you can come with me. I may not have much, but I can at least provide you with food and shelter.”
Tears welled up in Li Xinjun’s eyes. In the past few days, she had experienced the coldness of humanity firsthand. In addition to the murder of her parents, she had been ignored by passersby when she pleaded for help. She had even approached a wealthy group camped nearby, begging for scraps of food, but they refused, saying they would rather feed their dogs than give her anything.
Now, encountering Song Ling’s kindness and offer to take her in, Li Xinjun felt a surge of warmth and gratitude. She couldn’t help but throw her arms around Song Ling and cry. Song Ling didn’t mind Li Xinjun’s dirtiness. She embraced her in return, patting her back with one hand and holding her head with the other, offering comfort.
After crying for a while, Li Xinjun finally calmed down. She released her embrace and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. Song Ling stood up and stroked Li Xinjun’s hair.
“Alright, don’t cry anymore. I’ll go prepare something to eat. Would you like to take a bath first? I have some extra clothes in my bag. See if they fit you. You can wear them for now, and I’ll take you to buy some proper clothes when we reach the city.”
“Thank you, Sister.”
“My name is Song Ling. You can just call me by my name.”
Song Ling then turned and left, heading to the kitchen to prepare the rabbit and pheasant she had just caught. She was no stranger to such tasks at the Daoist Temple. Cooking, cleaning, and laundry were usually shared among the disciples.
Song Ling was sixteen years old and also an orphan. Fortunately, when she was four, she met her master, who not only took her in as a disciple but also brought her back to the Tianshan Sect, teaching her martial arts and magic. Song Ling was deeply grateful to her master and had been obedient and diligent in her studies at the temple. As a result, she was now proficient in various martial arts, excelling particularly in medicine and magic.
Song Ling’s master was pleased with her progress and sent her on a journey to gain experience and help people in need. This was Song Ling’s first solo journey, and she was filled with excitement. After all, she was just a sixteen-year-old girl with hopes and dreams for the world. Meeting Li Xinjun, an orphan seven years younger than herself, brought back memories of her own past. Song Ling naturally felt a strong desire to protect this little girl who shared a similar fate, hoping to offer her the same warmth and support her master had given her during her most vulnerable time.
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