On the day my whole family was executed, it snowed heavily in the capital.
They thought that Su Jinse, the legitimate daughter of the Hou family, had died in the fire, but I was holding my young brother in my arms, gnawing on dry cornstarch in the deserted village.
Everyone was waiting to see how a cripple like me, who couldn't carry my shoulders or lift my hands, would starve to death.
They didn't know that in my ears, this wasteland was extremely noisy - the potatoes under my feet were screaming for thirst, the wild ginseng in Nanshan was asking me to dig it, and even the old hen at the head of the village was complaining to me that the eggs she laid yesterday were stolen by weasels.
Later, relying on this "insignificant" talent, I planted royal tributes and raised rare birds worth a thousand dollars.
Just when I was about to return to the capital and kill my enemies with my own hands, the taciturn and rough woodsman in the village who always brought me meat thrust a military talisman into my hand.
