Chapter 8: The Age of Madness (Vote Requested)
Chapter 8: An Accursed Age
In this era, life expectancy was short.
Thirty was the age of maturity, forty brought clarity, fifty meant understanding fate, sixty marked a cycle, seventy was rare longevity, and eighty came with frailty.
At fifty, one was still in their prime in modern times, but here, it meant the threshold of old age.
Thus, in Yangjia Village, people often married at fifteen or sixteen, and by their twenties, many were already parents of several children.
People like Zheng Zha and Luo Feng, unmarried in their twenties, had become rare specimens.
Zheng Zha? Curious, Luo Feng turned his head to look at him.
“Uncle Zheng!”
“Uncle Zheng...”
Zheng Zha had already been swallowed up by the sea of villagers, flustered as he handed out fruit.
Compared to Luo Feng, the children liked Zheng Zha more, simply because he gave out more.
That’s right—he gave out more. Each time, Zheng Zha would simply grab a handful at random, the amount depending entirely on luck.
Unlike Luo Feng, who counted carefully before handing them out.
Listening to the chorus of “Uncle Zheng,” with the occasional “Grandpa Zheng” mixed in, Luo Feng couldn’t help but smile.
Clearly, everything is relative.
“Huh?!”
Luo Feng noticed a timid little girl hiding under the big tree behind Zheng Zha, gazing longingly in their direction but too afraid to come closer.
“Xiao Hei, come here,” Luo Feng called out.
“What is it, Uncle Feng?” Not far off, Xiao Hei hurriedly swallowed the fruit in his hand and bounded over nimbly like a cat.
“That child—does she belong to our village?” Luo Feng pointed.
“She was brought by the village chief, right? I’ve never seen her before.”
Xiao Hei shook his head—he was the leader of the village children.
If he hadn’t seen her before, it meant the girl really wasn’t from the village.
Luo Feng walked over slowly, a gentle smile on his face.
But the little girl didn't respond, only backed away in fear, making Luo Feng feel strangely like a villain.
“Little one, what’s your name?” Luo Feng crouched down and asked softly.
The girl said nothing, clutching her worn clothes tightly.
“Would you like some fruit?” Luo Feng smiled and held out a piece.
She looked up at him for a moment, then quickly bowed her head again, her small body trembling.
Luo Feng sighed. He had seen such girls before in the welfare homes on Earth—pitiful, and heart-wrenching.
“For you.”
He placed a piece of fruit near her hand—close, but not touching.
“Th-thank you...” She glanced up at him, took the fruit, her voice hoarse and barely audible.
It was as soft as a mosquito’s buzz, but Luo Feng heard it.
A faint smile flickered on his lips. The fact that she could speak meant she could be helped.
“For you.”
The little girl nervously extended her right hand—a thin, frail arm, with something black in her palm.
Luo Feng took it carefully and examined it in silence.
It was half a steamed bun, who knows how long she had been clutching it—now caked with dust and sweat, blackened beyond recognition.
Yet the way she handed it to Luo Feng, it was as if she was offering a precious gem.
She was trading it for the fruit.
Fair enough, wasn’t it?
“What’s going on?” Luo Feng led the girl to the village chief to ask.
Xiao Hei said she was brought back by the chief.
Seeing the girl, the chief let out a sigh of relief. “So, Yuanyuan is with you!”
Meeting Luo Feng’s puzzled gaze, the chief sighed and recounted Yuanyuan’s story, haltingly.
It was no melodrama, but the commonplace tragedy of a bygone era.
Yuanyuan’s parents were villagers of Yangjia, but unwilling to toil in the countryside all their lives, they set off to try their luck in the county town.
But what could farmers do in a city? Only menial work and hard labor.
Yuanyuan’s mother worked odd jobs at a restaurant. One day she crossed paths with some gangsters. Rather than submit to their harassment, she resisted and leaped to her death.
Yuanyuan’s father sought revenge, but was beaten to death.
Orphaned, Yuanyuan ended up begging on the streets, sometimes going a whole day without a sip of hot water.
If not for a villager who happened to be in town and saw her begging, she would have starved on the roadside before long.
In this era, clan ties ran deep. Since Yuanyuan shared the family name Yang, she was brought back and taken in by Yangjia Village.
But in the countryside, boys were valued over girls—no family wanted to take on another mouth to feed, so she stayed temporarily with the village chief.
But due to a moment’s carelessness, Yuanyuan had wandered off.
“Ordinary tragedy.”
Luo Feng let out a chilling laugh. The words sounded so wrong.
This accursed age was the darkness before dawn, crawling with demons and monsters in broad daylight.
Whether it was the pawnshop affair or Yuanyuan’s parents’ tragedy, all of it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Who did it?!” Luo Feng pressed.
“Who else?! That damned Black Dragon Gang!” the village chief sighed, powerless, pounding the table.
He glanced up at Luo Feng, uneasy. “Son, don’t go messing with them.”
“They have knives and guns—we’re no match for them!”
Luo Feng’s face was calm. “Don’t worry, chief. I’m not stupid.”
“That’s good, that’s good.” The chief let out a breath, then muttered curses at the Black Dragon Gang.
“Chief, let Yuanyuan stay at my place for now,” Luo Feng said after a moment’s hesitation.
“This...” The chief was stunned, wanting to object but unsure of what to say.
The duties of a patriarch and personal selfishness warred within him, leaving him silent.
“It’s fine, the two of us won’t miss Yuanyuan’s share of food,” Luo Feng assured him.
“All right, then.” The chief nodded, looking at Yuanyuan and sighing. “Such a hard-luck child!”
“I’ll take Yuanyuan home now,” Luo Feng said, glancing at the setting sun.
“Wait...”
As if remembering something, the chief rummaged in his room for a long while, finally producing a three-foot length of old cloth.
He handed it to Luo Feng, flashing his yellowed teeth. “She’s a Yang, after all. A little gift for her.”
After some polite refusal, Luo Feng accepted—it was for Yuanyuan, and it would ease the chief’s mind.
As the evening breeze stirred, Luo Feng took Yuanyuan’s hand. She gnawed on the chief’s white steamed bun as they walked through the afterglow.
...
The moment Zheng Zha saw Yuanyuan, he was dumbfounded. “I know the chief’s daughter Xiao Li has a crush on you,” he said blankly, “but how did you end up with a kid...?”
Luo Feng punched him without hesitation. “Shut it. I adopted her—got a problem with that?”
“Adopted?” Zheng Zha stared at Yuanyuan in surprise, scrutinizing her.
“That’s right!” Luo Feng replied, waving his hand. “Out of the way, don’t block me.”
Pushing the useless Zheng Zha aside, Luo Feng led Yuanyuan to the kitchen and gave her a bowl of millet porridge.
Then, they went to the small wooden hut in the backyard—used as a bathhouse. Little girls should be clean.
After setting out hot water and towels, Luo Feng prepared to bathe Yuanyuan, but found she had already climbed into the tub on her own, quietly washing herself without a word.
After a flurry of activity, the sky darkened.
With no children’s clothes, Yuanyuan wore one of Luo Feng’s large robes, sitting on the bed.
“Yuanyuan...” Luo Feng began, but before he could finish—
“Yes,” Yuanyuan nodded, lay down, climbed under the covers, and closed her eyes obediently.
Ever since she entered his home, whatever Luo Feng said or did, Yuanyuan would only nod. Sometimes she solved things herself, without needing Luo Feng’s help.
So obedient—so heartbreakingly obedient.
Compared to rowdy children, Yuanyuan was an angel.
Luo Feng didn’t know what expression he should wear: relief, pity, or anger.
Quietly closing doors and windows, he found Zheng Zha waiting for him in the courtyard.
“What happened?” Zheng Zha frowned.
Luo Feng recounted Yuanyuan’s story in detail, exaggerating the Black Dragon Gang’s villainy, likening them to monsters bent on humanity’s destruction.
Though the difference wasn’t so great—both deserved to die.
(End of chapter)