The cold wind was biting.
Large snowflakes, like goose feathers, were steadily falling from the sky.
After a night of accumulation, the snow had already reached past the shins.
Shen Qing was wrapped in a tattered yun coat, carrying a bow on his back, trudging through the snowy ground, his footsteps crunching.
Snowflakes landed on him and quickly melted from his body heat, seeping into his clothes.
When the cold wind blew, they hardened and made him shiver uncontrollably.
"I hope I'll have some luck today, I pray to the heavens for a bite to eat; if it goes on like this, I really won't survive."
Shen Qing's hands were tucked into his sleeves as his gaze fixed on a clear set of footprints.
The footprints were deeply imprinted in the snow, forming a winding trail that extended towards the sunlit slope ahead.
Based on his experience, this should be a young deer.
Yo, yo...
The sudden sound of a deer call interrupted Shen Qing's thoughts.
There's game!
Shen Qing immediately became fully alert, carefully taking down his bow and fitting a feathered arrow onto it.
He crouched down, inching forward cautiously.
As he got closer, a young deer appeared in Shen Qing's line of sight, and his movements became even more careful.
Suddenly, the deer, as if sensing something, jerked its head up.
Shen Qing cursed silently at his misfortune.
Deer are skittish and wary, with a keen sense of smell; they are frightened by any hint of "human scent" and will bolt at the slightest disturbance.
Shen Qing rushed out hastily, firing an arrow in desperation.
Swish!
The arrow turned into a dark flash, piercing the white snow.
And in the blink of an eye, the young deer in sight had vanished into the vast snow-covered landscape.
Another miss.
Shen Qing's face immediately turned a bit ugly.
"Oh no, my arrow!"
Shen Qing hurried into the snowfield, searching frantically.
However, looking around the snowfield, all he could see was a blanket of white, with no sign of the arrow.
Time ticked away as Shen Qing searched everywhere he remembered the arrow could have fallen, but to no avail.
The last arrow, gone!
...
At the foot of the mountain.
A village that lived off hunting was nestled there.
The village consisted of over thirty households, all made of earthen and thatched cottages.
Among all these cottages, there was a dilapidated earthen house that stood out starkly in the snowstorm.
The walls were built from a mixture of mud and straw, their dark yellow color mottled with patches.
The roof was covered with thick straw, now blanketed by snow, making the already fragile structure seem as if it might collapse at any moment.
Knowing the way well, Shen Qing walked to the front door of the earthen house and with a push, entered.
"Sister, I'm back."
The furnishings inside the house were extremely simple: an old wooden table, a few chairs missing arms or legs, and a plank that barely qualified as a bed constituted all the furniture.
Shen Qing closed the door behind him with his back hand, took off his hat, and hung the bow on his back along with some farming tools and worn clothing on the wall.
In a corner of the room, a frail woman quickly stood up and said to Shen Qing, "Why have you come back so late today? I thought something had happened to you outside."
This was Shen Qing's elder sister, Shen Fang.
Ever since he had come to this world, Shen Qing had always depended on her for survival.
Shen Qing said, "Today was a bit rough. I lost an arrow on the way and got held up a bit."
Shen Fang quickly walked to the door and brushed the snow off Shen Qing's shoulders.
Light from the crack of the door hit her face, revealing a delicate visage.
But years of exposure had tanned her skin dark and rough, masking much of her natural beauty.
"Losing it is losing it; as long as you're safe, that's what matters. If something happened to you, I'd have no way to explain it to our late parents."
After a while, Shen Fang suddenly said, "Chen Yuan came by again today."
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As she spoke, Shen Fang subconsciously pulled her sleeves over her wrists to hide the bruises.
Shen Qing looked up and said, "Chen Yuan?"
His eyebrows furrowed without conscious thought.
Chen Yuan's family had three brothers; their father was the leader of the village and had considerable prestige, with some connections in the city.
Riding on their father's coattails, the brothers were accustomed to acting arrogantly; many in the village either feared or fawned over their family.
They were not easy to get along with.
"What did they come over for?"
"They said that someone like me could be worth five or six taels of silver as a maid to a wealthy family in the county city. They asked if I was willing. Qingzi, perhaps..."
Shen Qing cut her off, saying, "Sister, our family doesn't have any support; who knows where they would sell you off to. What if you end up in a brothel—how would you cope then? Don't listen to their nonsense."
"We only have one man in our family. Before our parents left, they told me to take good care of you, that I couldn't let our family's line end..." Shen Fang said softly.
Shen Qing fell silent.
As hunters who "drive mountains," they relied on the mountains for their livelihood and didn't have any farmland.
Apart from managing household chores, there wasn't much else a woman could help with here.
"By the way, Sister." Shen Qing changed the subject. "Do we still have any meat at home?"
"It's all gone," Shen Fang stammered. "Now we only have some bran cakes left."
Shen Qing's face fell: "… Just take it out and let's eat for now; I'll think of other ways tomorrow."
"Alright."
Shen Fang stood up, took out two bran cakes from a broken jar, put them in Shen Qing's hands, and said, "Qingzi, don't worry too much. As long as I'm here, I won't let you go hungry."
"I know," Shen Qing took the grayish bran cakes.
He looked down at the bran cakes in his hands, their rough and uneven surface covered with specks of bran, resembling a piece of earth eroded by time.
Heavy.
They didn't look much different from other cakes.
However, when you took a bite, the texture was indescribable.
They were not soft and smooth like typical flour products; on the contrary, they were so coarse that they were difficult to swallow.
Each bite came with a gritty sound, almost as if chewing on sand.
The bran rolled around in the mouth, bringing an indescribable feeling of a foreign object.
If there was any flavor at all, it was a faint, slightly bitter taste of grass and wood—eating them was more a challenge to the limit of one's taste buds than enjoying food.
For Shen Qing, who had lived a modern life before this, eating such cakes was undoubtedly a form of torture.
But for families like Shen Qing's, being able to fill their stomachs mattered more than whether the food tasted good or not.
Shen Qing exhaled and swallowed it with snow water, bracing himself.
The bran cakes were hard to eat, but when his stomach was full, Shen Qing still felt an unprecedented sense of comfort.
Warmth began to return to his tired body, and his face showed a bit more vitality.
At this moment, looking around the empty clay house, Shen Qing couldn't help but start thinking more actively.
Having been in this world for over a month, he had figured out where he now stood.
He was living in a village named Hongshan Village, with hunting as its primary occupation—the village consisted of around thirty households and belonged to Taiping County.
Taiping County laid to the north against the great mountains and to the south it touched upon a great lake; it was home to several tens of thousands of households making their living here.
In the county, there were four markets located to the north, south, east, and west, dominated by the Four Great Eastern Families.
The hunters from Hongshan Village, along with other tenants, fishermen's sons, and woodcutters, all depended on the Four Great Eastern Families to make a living.
However, the Four Great Eastern Families in the county were far from benevolent.
Each one was a ruthless character, unconcerned with the well-being of others.
With the tax officials from the Great Zhou Government added to the mix, it was a challenge for the common folk just to achieve basic sustenance.
If calamity or disaster struck, it often meant complete ruin for a family.
This world could be summed up in one word: difficult!
Fortunately, having been reborn in this world, Shen Qing was not without reliance.
With a thought, a glint appeared in his eyes, and a layer of invisible ripples seemed to spread through his gaze.
A string of ink-brushed characters unfurled before him like a scroll.
[Skill: Bow Technique (Entry Level)]
[Progress: 98/100 points]
[Status: Unable to improve]
[Note: "As heaven's movement is ever vigorous, so must a gentleman ceaselessly strive." Continuous practice can break through the skill's progress.]
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