In early May, when the cool breeze was drifting, the trees on the mountain were lush, and as the wind blew, the rustling of the leaves was exceedingly pleasing.
Among the trees, birds were singing, and suddenly, a grey rabbit hopped to a halt under a tree, happily nibbling on a leaf.
Whoosh!
A bamboo arrow shot out of nowhere and struck the rabbit's head, causing its small legs to kick a few times before it lay still.
There were crunching sounds of footsteps on fallen leaves, and someone approached the rabbit. A small hand reached down from above and grabbed the bamboo arrow, the size of a chopstick, and deftly scooped up the rabbit.
"Tsk, tsk, my aim is still off, it should've hit the eye to be perfect. What a waste of this rabbit fur," the owner of the small hand commented disdainfully as they looked at the bamboo arrow in the rabbit's head, pulled it out, and tossed it aside.
It turned out that one end of the bamboo had been sharpened to a point to serve as an arrow. Looking at the person who spoke with such disdain, dressed in coarse cloth, with something tied around the waist—upon closer inspection, wasn't that the cloth of their skirt?
Indeed, with hair braided into two small plaits hanging in front of the chest, and the skirt lifted and tied to the waistband, revealing two slender legs, the speaker was, astonishingly, a girl?
Looking further up, her face was as delicate as an oval goose egg, and her phoenix eyes were slightly upturned, brimming with vivacity. Her lips were thin, and although she was wearing patched-up coarse clothing, it wasn't hard to see that she was a young beauty in the making.
The young girl tossed the rabbit into the small basket she was carrying on her back, where there was already a pheasant, along with several more sharpened bamboo arrows.
She walked a few steps into the mountains, then paused, her eyes lighting up as she spotted another pheasant!
Without hesitating, she reached back, grabbed a bamboo arrow, and hurled it forward forcefully.
The tiny bamboo arrow flew straight toward its target like an arrow loosed from a bow, carrying a chilling intent to kill, but...
Cluck, cluck, cluck!
The pheasant, startled, fluttered its wings and flew away, leaving behind only a couple of brilliant feathers.
The young girl clicked her tongue twice, stepped forward to pick up the two colorful feathers, and said, "Wufu, oh Wufu, this won't do!" After a pause, she picked up the bamboo arrow and muttered to herself, "Looks like I need to make a small bow."
Otherwise, if she couldn't even bring down a pheasant, how could she manage?
As the sun reached its zenith, the girl who called herself Wufu confidently took a familiar mountain path to a stream. Setting down her basket, she first washed her face before taking out its contents.
She took out a hatchet and processed the first pheasant she had caught, plucking and cleaning it, then retrieved a small clay pot from her basket. She set it on a hollowed-out stone, filled it with water, and gathered dry branches to light a fire with a flint, then added freshly picked mushrooms to the pot along with the chicken to make soup.
From the pheasant, she only took half and wrapped the other half carefully in a banana leaf, intending to bring it home.
Once the soup in the pot began to boil, she dragged some of the firewood out to extinguish it, leaving only a small flame for simmering. She then lay down on a flat large stone nearby, hands resting behind her head, one leg draped over the other, staring blankly at the blue sky above in a trance.
Her name was Wufu, having just turned fourteen, a young girl who relied on her mother to get by.
But Wufu had another name, Wu Fu, which was her name in a previous life. Yes, Wufu had lived twice.
Once in the 21st century, and another time in the present, in a dynasty known as the Nanyue Kingdom.