Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Feng Aiguo and Li Meihua cursed for half the night, but it didn't disturb Feng Xia's sleep. The cabinet was of average craftsmanship, but made of solid, genuine materials, weighing over two hundred pounds. With the door bolted, no matter how hard Feng Aiguo and Li Meihua pushed, they couldn't open it. In the end, they had to make a makeshift bed on the floor in the main hall to get through the night, dead tired from the day.

When Feng Xia woke up, she was in a comfort she hadn't felt in ages. A good night's sleep perked her up, and a faint blush even appeared on her sallow little face. Rested, it was time to eat. Feng Xia squinted, a sharp glint in her eyes. She remembered there was still a lot of food in the kitchen.

In the main hall, several people were sprawled out in disarray. Feng Chun was holding her little sister Feng Qiu, while Li Meihua and Feng Aiguo lay with Feng Chengzong between them. They were all lying on a layer of oil paper. Old Lady Feng, not wanting to see her son suffer, had given them two old, tattered quilts, and Zhang Ling also provided a thin mat. It was still March, and the nights were particularly cold. The group huddled together, shivering, which amused Feng Xia.

From the sky outside, it was about three in the morning. The moon and stars hung brightly in the night sky. Feng Xia tiptoed, her footsteps as light as a nimble cat's, slipping through the main hall and heading straight for the kitchen.

The dark didn't stop her hungry eyes. The kitchen door was locked with a copper padlock. Feng Xia did the same trick, easily popping it open with a wire. Then she carefully shut the door behind her. The cabinet, missing its two doors, stood pitifully where it was, the door panels placed inside, apparently not yet repaired.

Feng Xia walked past it and eyed the wall cupboard, about one and a half meters high, made of wood. The lower shelves held bowls and chopsticks, but the top shelf was tightly shut, locked with a small copper padlock. Feng Xia reached up to open the cupboard door, but even on tiptoe, she could barely touch it. The shiny copper lock seemed to taunt her: "Shorty, hehe, can't reach, huh?"

Feng Xia paused, silently mourning her height—less than four feet. She grabbed a stool, climbed up, and opened the cupboard.

Inside was a big chunk of cured meat, about two pounds, a big jar of veggie oil, a small jar of lard, and some seasonings. When Feng Xia saw the cured meat, her eyes glowed green in the darkness. She grabbed the meat, half a bag of cornmeal, a few large sweet potatoes stored from last year, an iron pot, and a box of matches. Carrying the items, she slipped out of the door. Her skinny figure flashed by and vanished into the woods in seconds.

Zhang Ling was the first one up. It was her turn to make breakfast. Seeing the people sprawled across the main hall, she lowered her head, a smile tugging at her lips, then hurried into the kitchen.

The kitchen door wasn't locked, which seemed off to her. But the locking was usually handled by the old lady; perhaps she had forgotten due to her injured leg yesterday.

Zhang Ling pushed open the door, and her eyes immediately fell on the cupboard. The wide-open doors were a blatant mockery. She yelled right away, "Thieves! Thieves! Our meat's been stolen!"

Stumbling, she woke up her husband, Feng Aihua. Seeing the kitchen a mess, he went to get his parents. Old Lady Feng had just dozed off and was pissed about being woken up. When she saw the big chunk of cured meat saved for New Year's was gone, the old lady's eyes rolled back, and she almost passed out again. Zhang Ling, quick on her feet, pinched the old lady's philtrum hard, bringing her back to consciousness.

Li Meihua and Feng Aiguo were still sleeping when Feng Shizhu kicked them awake. The floor was cold and hard, and they'd only crashed around one or two in the morning. Now, at about five, when sleep was deepest, they groggily rubbed their eyes. Feng Qiu was held by Feng Chun, Li Meihua soothed Feng Chengzong, and Feng Aiguo, a bit pissed, asked, "Dad, what's wrong? It's not time to go to work yet!"

Feng Shizhu was about to kick him again, his eyes wide as a bull's, glaring at Feng Aiguo, his voice hoarse: "What's wrong? What's wrong! You ask what's wrong! Your good daughter has stolen all our meat, not even a drop of oil left! And you're asking me what's wrong! You little bastard! Go find her! Sleep any longer, and we'll all be eating air!"

Hearing that, Feng Aiguo ran to his room. Sure enough, the door was open, and the room was in chaos. A gray-black mark on the bed was probably from Feng Xia sleeping there. The chest under the bed was torn apart. Fortunately, Feng Chun and Feng Qiu had few possessions, so they escaped unscathed. Li Meihua, seeing the empty chest, opened her mouth to cry but shut up at a look from Old Lady Feng. She mournfully began tidying the clothes.

Feng Aiguo and Feng Aihua didn't dare wait and ran out to look. Zhang Ling went to make breakfast. Li Meihua, after putting away the clothes, watched the children in the main hall. Old Lady Feng leaned back in her chair, looking menacing, her poisonous stare fixed on Li Meihua's back, making her too afraid to lift her head. She cowered, clutching Feng Chengzong, until Feng Chun got up, took Feng Qiu, and cleaned up the oil paper before returning to their room.

Around six, Zhang Ling managed to make a pot of sweet potato porridge, so thin it was like water. Everything edible in the cupboard had been taken by Feng Xia, even a jar of pickled vegetables. Feng Aihua and Feng Aiguo returned, clearly not having found her, their faces dark as water. They silently slurped their porridge. Feng Chengzong and Feng Jinbao refused to eat, crying and whining until their parents pinched them hard, silencing them.

After finishing the porridge, with about half an hour left before work, the courtyard door opened. Feng Xia walked in like nothing happened, reeking of cured meat. The first to see her were Feng Chengzong and Feng Jinbao, playing in the yard. The two boys yelled, "Feng Xia's back! / The ingrate's back!"

The power of example was evident. Feng Xia strolled over to the two little brats and hoisted one in each hand. The boys were well-fed, one six and one seven, but only slightly smaller than ten-year-old Feng Xia. She smiled carelessly, raising both hands high. The two boys, each over a hundred pounds, seemed weightless in her hands. Feng Jinbao and Feng Chengzong, now scared, cried out for their parents, their voices piercing.

The adults inside were indeed drawn out. Feng Aihua rushed forward when he saw Feng Xia holding the two boys, ready to save his son. But as he charged, Feng Xia immediately mimicked the pose from yesterday, as if to throw Feng Jinbao. Feng Aihua stopped in his tracks, afraid to move, forcing a smile: "Feng Xia, how can you play like that? Your little brother is older now. Put them down before they get hurt."

Feng Aiguo was less nice: "You animal! Put them down, you ungrateful brat! I'll beat you to death today!"

He grabbed a large piece of firewood and moved to strike, but Zhang Ling and Feng Aihua stopped him. They could see from Feng Xia's stance that this wouldn't end well. Zhang Ling forced a smile: "Feng Xia, hand Jinbao to your aunt. You must be tired holding him."

Feng Xia looked at the crowd around her: Li Meihua, anger written all over her face; Feng Shizhu, frowning; Feng Aihua, suppressing his rage; Feng Aiguo, shouting to hit her. Suddenly, she burst into laughter, her eyes and brows curving. The laughter stunned everyone. Then, with a sudden flick of her wrists, the two boys flew out like cannonballs. Li Meihua and Zhang Ling lunged to catch them, but the boys were so heavy that they crashed hard into the ground, eliciting groans and muffled cries.

Feng Aihua and Feng Aiguo rushed to their precious sons. Feng Xia leisurely walked to the eaves of the main hall, smiling as she stroked a wooden bench. The bench was solid, about a meter high, with legs thicker than Feng Xia's wrists.

Then, with a swift chop of her hand, the bench shattered into pieces. Feng Aiguo and Feng Aihua, who had been charging at her with sticks, jumped back in fright. Feng Xia picked up a bench leg, smiling as she easily snapped it in two. By now, Feng Aiguo and Feng Aihua's legs were trembling.

She then folded the pieces again, breaking the two legs into four. Feng Aiguo's stick clattered to the ground. He didn't dare look at the demon star in the distance.

Just then, a call rang out from afar—it was time to go to work. Feng Xia chuckled, "Grandpa, Dad, Uncle, you should head to work now."

The three men stumbled out the door, as if a ghost were chasing them, not daring to look back.

That girl could even snap bench legs; their arms and legs were nothing. And she seemed possessed by something sinister. In these times, feudal superstition was heavily cracked down upon, and they didn't even dare utter the word. The three exchanged glances and hurried silently to the fields.

The women and children left at home were also terrified. They didn't dare confront Feng Xia about the stolen food and meat. Zhang Ling and Li Meihua led their sons and locked them in a room. The remaining four girls huddled like little quails, trembling in the corner, occasionally glancing at Feng Xia before quickly looking away, afraid the ruthless girl would beat them. With her strength, even Feng Shizhu, Feng Aiguo, and Feng Aihua combined wouldn't stand a chance, let alone them.

Feng Xia lazily lifted her eyelids and called out to Li Meihua and Zhang Ling, "I want a bath. Boil some water. You, find me some clothes."

The "you" referred to Feng Chun. Fourteen-year-old Feng Chun had always been indifferent to Feng Xia, or more accurately, she ignored her. She knew that if Feng Xia didn't do the chores, she would have to. She didn't want that, so she chose to overlook her sister.

Now, faced with this seemingly possessed Feng Xia, she dared not refuse. She silently went to find clothes. Feng Jinlian, fourteen, and Feng Jingui, twelve, also quietly helped their mother boil water. Li Meihua glared at Feng Xia with resentment and unconcealed anger, wanting to say something, but seeing the lazy little girl leaning in the chair, her thin, dark hands like chicken claws, she opened and closed her mouth without uttering a word.

Old Lady Feng had already had her daughters-in-law carry her back to her room. She had clearly seen Feng Xia's display and felt her broken legs ache even more. She knew this little wretch would truly kill her.

Feng Xia didn't care. Evil needs a stronger evil to counter it, and she was now that evil. She wasn't staying at the Feng house for just a day; she had plenty of time to deal with the old lady.

When Zhang Ling had boiled a large bucket of water, she carried it to the backyard, mixed in cold water, and placed a bar of soap nearby. Feng Chun had also found clothes—her own old ones, patched but far better than what Feng Xia was wearing.

In those days, baths were usually taken outdoors in the backyard. Feng Xia stripped off her stiff, worn clothes and lathered herself with soap. Her hair was dry and tangled, so she didn't bother washing it. Instead, she grabbed scissors and cut it all off, leaving it uneven like a dog had chewed it. She didn't care.

It took three buckets of water to get clean, and the soap had shrunk noticeably. The gray, dirty water carried pale stains, flowing from behind the house to the front before seeping into the ground.

Clean all over, with a faint soap scent, Feng Xia stretched and put on the clothes Feng Chun had brought. The pants fit well, but the sweater was a bit loose, hanging loosely on her. Still, it kept out the wind and cold.

Dressed anew, Feng Xia lazily sat in the yard, basking in the sun. Feng Jingui and Feng Jinlian were sent by Zhang Ling to the village supply cooperative to buy oil, as the two jars at home had been drained by Feng Xia. There was no oil for cooking lunch.

Li Meihua was washing the sheets Feng Xia had dirtied, and Feng Chun had gone up the mountain to pick bamboo shoots, which were still in season. Normally, these were Feng Xia's tasks.

She had eaten a large piece of cured meat that morning and drunk both jars of oil. Feng Xia licked her lips—lard was truly delicious!

From the outside, Feng Xia looked relaxed in the sunlight, but inside, her power was raging, surging through her meridians. Fragile blood vessels groaned, broken channels repaired themselves repeatedly, only to be shattered again by the brute force. It was a cycle of torment.

This was the drawback of being a superpower user. Every advancement brought such pain, and the higher the level, the greater the agony. Many superpower users died not from zombies but from the pain itself. But Feng Xia was different—she was a madwoman. She reveled in this clear, sharp pain.

The pain made her acutely aware that she was still alive.

After half an hour of energy rampaging, she advanced successfully. Feng Xia had now reached the second level, fully mastering the strength of one ox—five hundred pounds. If someone had peeled back her clothes, they would have seen her scars fading, her skin still sallow from malnutrition but now unusually smooth, with a leathery texture. As her power grew, it naturally transformed her body; a fragile vessel couldn't withstand tons of force.

After advancing, Feng Xia felt only one thing: hunger, extreme hunger!

Like a starving tiger, she dashed into the kitchen. Zhang Ling was cooking sweet potatoes with some dough lumps. Seeing Feng Xia burst in with green eyes, she quickly stepped back, not daring to stay. That girl looked like she could devour her alive.

Feng Xia ate the entire pot of dough soup, even the sweet potatoes baked in the stove, leaving nothing. Only then did her hunger ease by seventy or eighty percent. She wiped her mouth and went back to sunbathing. Passing Zhang Ling, she rare said:

"You're okay."