Constant beatings had numbed her.
Not a single tear fell from her eyes, even as a stick as thick as a young man's calf rained down on her malnourished body.
In the beginning, she had felt pain everywhere. But now, after years of torment that had covered her skin in bruises, the pain no longer moved her at all.
When the beating ended, she rose silently and went to the kitchen, as she always did.
Measured ingredients were taken out from the locked cabinet, while eyes sharp as a hawk's watched her every movement, making sure she didn't sneak a bite while cooking.
After the blows came the scoldings.
The slanted-faced, middle-aged woman folded her arms and sat on the oily, slightly dirty bench.
Her mouth, like her eyes, was busy finding faults with the poor soul who stood cooking.
"Do you think you have a factory director as your father, to use that much oil while cooking?
You hen that doesn't lay eggs! Not only are you an orphan with no parents, but you also dare to cut off the Jiang family's line by not giving birth to a son.
Why don't you just drop dead already?
My poor son, forced to look at your ugly face every day.
Even I feel disgusted when I see you.
And what is that? Hanging your head so low?
Aren't you the girl who completed her high school education?
What use was that? You can't cook, you can't earn.
God, open your eyes! My son is being dragged down by this infertile wench.
My youngest son, so pitiful.
Five years of marriage and still no son.
What was the use of marrying an educated youth?
Useless! Can't work, can't give the Jiang family a grandson.
Just wait. I'll make him divorce you and marry a girl with wide hips who'll give us plump grandsons in one go!"
Su Miao Miao's hands moved nimbly, her ears already numb like the rest of her body.
She had heard these rants—worse than these—so many times that none of the words pierced her anymore.
They no longer even reached her ears. Her face remained blank.
...
The sister-in-laws, well-accustomed to such scoldings, hurried off to work in the pigpen.
Better to escape quickly than risk being dragged into their mother-in-law's wrath.
After all, it made little difference whether they stayed for breakfast or not.
The food was nothing more than cloudy water without substance.
Even among that, they got the worst along with scoldings as pickle.
If they finished cleaning the pen now, they could avoid working late at night after tiring in the fields and maybe even sleep early.
The status of daughters-in-law in this family was even lower than the pigs they tended.
At least pigs had enough pigweed to fill their bellies every day.
And the arrangement suited the mother-in-law just fine.
Her husband, sons, and grandsons ate their fill, while the daughters-in-law's hunger meant there was more left for the men of the house.
...
It was the year 1977 in Republic China.
Villagers worked collectively in the fields, earning work points that were converted into food and money at the year's end—the only source of income for rural families.
City workers, holding the so-called "iron rice bowl," could earn 30–40 yuan and receive monthly ration coupons. For them, life was more secure.
But for families with many children in the city, there was another burden: once the children finished high school, they were sent to the countryside to work in the fields. These young men and women were called educated youths.
Private businesses were forbidden.
Purchases from supply cooperatives were allowed, but only with both money and ration tickets.
Su Miao Miao, once a bright and promising educated youth, was now reduced to skin and bones.
Years of torment had broken her spirit, forcing her to stay put.
Even if she wanted to run, it was impossible without an identification certificate issued by the village leader.
Once the most cherished daughter of the Su family, the prettiest girl in town, wooed and admired by many—she had now fallen into a pit she could not escape.
If she ever discovered the truth—that she had been deliberately trapped in bed with Jiang's youngest son, nicknamed "Jiang the Idler", by the very *parents* who raised her—she would surely cough blood and die from the betrayal.
...
When the food was cooked, the mother-in-law sent Su Miao Miao, the youngest daughter-in-law, to the Jiang family's private fields to weed.
While the whole family ate—father-in-law, nephews, even nieces—despite family being patriarchal.
The first and second daughters-in-law at least received two meals a day, so they had enough strength to earn work points in the fields.
But Su Miao Miao? She was given only a few mouthfuls once a day—just enough to keep her alive.
Her patched clothes barely held together.
She wasn't allowed to heat water for bathing and was forced to wash in freezing water, even in the harsh winters of the northeast.
Yet she was still expected to cook, wash dishes, launder everyone's clothes, work the fields, and endure the constant beatings and scoldings of both her husband and mother-in-law.
She had long forgotten when it all began.
Now, like cattle, she simply labored without thought of resistance.
At first, she dreamed of running back to her parents to complain. But now, all she wanted was to vanish from this cruel world.
The only reason she had survived so far was her once-strong constitution.
But now, malnutrition and hidden illnesses had weakened her beyond recognition.
After picking weeds from the family's private plot, she heard the bell summoning villagers to the fields.
Everyone rushed off—her sister-in-laws too.
Fearing she would be late, Su Miao Miao hurried, only to trip on a stone at the edge of the field and fall face-first into the dirt.
She tried to rise, but pain shot through her nose. Blood trickled onto her hand, staining her fingers.
Her father-in-law cared about appearances, so her face was usually spared from beatings.