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墨書 Inktalez
In order to make my skin fair, my grandmother sells sheep's milk every day and makes sure to set aside a cup for me to drink. She says, "Drink more milk, and your skin will become fair." The milk is not boiled and has a strong odor. I feel nauseous and want to vomit, but my grandmother holds my head down and forces it into me. Despite this, I still feel better now than before. At least I can eat enough and stay warm every day.
My mad aunt worries my grandmother, and the villagers say, "Why not sell your daughter to an old bachelor as a wife?" My grandmother shakes her head and says, "Even if my daughter starves to death, I will not sell her!" I look at my grandmother in surprise; it turns out she still has some maternal instincts.
However, her family has been facing continuous troubles, and she is preparing for my uncle's funeral. Organizing a funeral requires help from the villagers, and to thank them for their assistance, she needs to prepare a meal. As usual, my grandmother digs out the stored old rice to use for cooking. The rice has deteriorated, with orange and red grains mixed in. That is a sign of poisoning.
I cautiously remind her, "Grandma, this rice can't be eaten." My grandmother glares at me and says, "Why can't it be eaten?" She ignores my warning and picks out the orange and red grains, mixing them with the new rice. I say, "Grandma, let's go buy some new rice?" My grandmother scolds me for being wasteful and says, "That would be a waste! Do you know that as long as this rice is sterilized at high temperatures, it will be fine?"
I can only follow her instructions and pick out the toxic grains to mix with the new rice. My grandmother says, "Tonight, everyone in the village will come over to help with the funeral; you must cook well."
I nodded and said, "Got it."
That night, I was so busy tending the fire that my hands cramped up.
Grandma washed the rice and poured it directly into the large iron pot.
I was so exhausted that I didn't even have the strength to rinse the rice before cooking it.
Grandma said, "Everyone is tired, so eat more."
So, I filled everyone's bowls generously.
Everyone was happy, except for Grandma, who had a stern look on her face. She said, "Why eat so much?"
As she spoke, she scooped some of everyone's rice into her own bowl.
Everyone was speechless and silently ate their meals.
Grandma ate contentedly and asked me, "Where's Zixuan?"
I replied, "I ate in the kitchen."
In truth, I hadn't eaten; I didn't want to consume this toxic food.
That night, everyone in the village gathered at my house for dinner.
Many of the weaker children started to complain of stomach pains.
By nightfall, the village was in chaos.
The chef denied responsibility for the meal, while the old man who washed the vegetables said, "My vegetables are all fresh."
The old man's little grandson chimed in, "Yeah, my grandpa picked them fresh from the field today."
As the symptoms of poisoning became more apparent, panic spread among the villagers.
They began to blame each other, and outsiders took the opportunity to expose the fact that women were being trafficked in the village.
Many villagers fled overnight, and Grandma took my aunt back to her family home.
Grandma asked me to stay behind to look after the cattle and sheep.
A few days later, officials from higher authorities arrived.
They first investigated the collective poisoning incident in the village and then uncovered the trafficking of women.
They rescued many women, but my mother did not live to see that day. She died on the way to escape. That day, an elderly couple came to the village, searching from house to house. When they saw me, they asked, "Little girl, do you know a woman named Wei Xuemei?" My eyes stung with tears as I shook my head and said, "I don't know her."
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