As dusk began to fall, I knew it was likely to rain again tonight, so I left the tavern earlier than usual. The street was still filled with horse-drawn carts moving back and forth. Cars were useless here—this small town's raw, untouched nature made any modern transportation or communication tools seem out of place.
I walked a few steps along the narrow street and noticed a woman across from me, holding a cucumber, her bright eyes fixed on me. She was a woman of modest beauty, with a high chest and round hips. Last time, I had asked her to leave the cucumber in my cozy little attic, offering her double the usual price for the vegetables, and asking her to sleep with me. Seeing the unexpected extra money, she gladly agreed and put in extra effort to please me.
I stopped in my tracks, standing still and meeting her gaze. Her status was low, but unlike avoiding something I considered shameful, I didn't hurry away from her or her eager eyes.
I didn't want her like before, though, as it was late, and she likely needed to get home to cook for her children and attend to her husband's needs.
The woman with the cucumbers walked over, awkwardly smiling, and said, "Horse, I heard you're going to marry the daughter of the Zhadawa family. My daughter is already fourteen. You should take her as well."
She lowered her head after speaking, nervously staring at the cucumbers in her arms. I had never seen her daughter, and I even doubted she had one. I asked her why she wanted this, and she replied, "Well, I don't mean it like that. Horse, look, you marry the Zhadawa girl, and my daughter can be your second wife, or a servant. Just let her eat enough. She's grown too big, and we can't afford to keep her. Let her stay with you forever, as long as she gets food. Is that okay? Or I'll send her to your attic now."
Her words left me feeling helpless. I imagined her daughter would likely be as well-formed as her mother, but I still felt that a fourteen-year-old girl would add a heavy weight to my life, so I politely declined.
She seemed reluctant and anxiously said, "Horse, please pity me. My husband gambles all day. When he loses, he comes home and tortures us. I'm really afraid that demon will sell my child one day. How about this? I'll send her to your attic to see if you like her. She really looks like a young woman. If you want, you can take her body. She's still a virgin, just like the Zhadawa girl."
I didn't want to continue rejecting her, though her words irritated me. But after all, she had worked hard to please me, to support a struggling family, and to feed her children. She did it for the double price of vegetables.
I shouldn't reproach her. I agreed, "Alright, if the rain isn't too heavy, send her up."
Her eyes immediately lit up with joy. She said, "I'll definitely send her to your attic tonight, no matter how heavy the rain is." Then, just like the last time she left my attic, her face beamed with happiness as she turned and walked away.
Back in the dim attic, I lit the oil lamp, ignoring the intoxicated state of my body as I threw myself onto the heavy bed. I closed my eyes, and the light from the kerosene lamp filtered through my eyelids into my mind.
I thought of the cucumber-selling woman and wondered if her daughter would look like her, growing into a body just like hers. I didn't extinguish the lamp, even though my eyes were closed, because I liked the feeling of light in my mind.
In my drowsy state, I felt myself drifting to sleep. I didn't know when the storm outside became intense, but the rumbling thunder and flashing lightning made my brain stick to the drowsiness, slowly sinking deeper into weariness.
Suddenly, a long shadow flashed through my mind, quickly swallowed up by darkness. I instinctively rolled over in bed, lying on my side, and grabbed the Swiss steel knife tied to the bed leg, preparing for anything.
Outside, there was no sound for a while. Then another flash of lightning cut through the sky, and the shadow reappeared. I quickly realized that the shadow was likely a girl, the outline of her modest, slightly developing chest exaggerated by the lightning, and brought to the forefront of my mind.
I suddenly remembered. It must be the cucumber-selling woman's daughter. I felt a sense of urgency, but carefully opened the door to the attic.
A thin girl, arms wrapped around herself, stood in the storm, her hair and clothes clinging to her body like thin gauze. I knew this must be the woman's daughter.
My attic usually had an overhang, so the rain wouldn't wet anyone seeking shelter, but tonight's terrible weather had left this little one soaked. I waved to her, signaling her to come inside.
She hesitated for a moment, ready to move but then stopping. I waved harder, urging her to come. The wind and rain seemed to intensify, as if scolding her for not obeying me. Her fear of the storm finally overcame her fear of me, and she began to slowly approach, cautiously closing the distance.