One day, when he returned from the city, their new servant brought back two candied apples and, with a strained smile, handed them to the sisters. Then he busied himself cleaning the camp, chattering nonstop, quite unlike his usual quiet self. Story after story poured from his mouth until the older sister finally grew irritated.

  “What’s wrong?” she snapped. “You’re acting strange.”

  “N-nothing strange,” the little ragamuffin stammered, his eyes darting nervously. “Everything’s… normal.”

  “Spit it out!” The girl stood up, frowning threateningly.

  “The caravan… it came back. Your father isn’t with them. There are… rumors spreading.”

  “What?”

  “The caravan,” the boy repeated, “came back…”

  “You’re lying! Nobody will listen to you!” Minzhu shouted, leapt to her feet, and bolted toward the city.

  “Wait!” Xue cried, her face pale, and ran after her. “Damn it…”

  Not realizing what she was doing, as if in a daze, the little girl ran down the road. Deep inside, a faint hope still flickered, maybe the ragamuffin was wrong. Their father often came back late, but he always returned home. Halfway to the city, she stopped and sat by the roadside, hugging her knees. When her sister’s shadow fell over her, blocking the sun, the girl lifted tearful eyes to her.

  “I don’t know where to go,” she admitted. “Who should we ask?”

  “We’ll go to the Zhao household,” the older sister said. “We’ll find out for sure.”

  “Mm.”

  With their endurance, the girls reached the city quickly, dashed through the streets, and before nightfall were knocking on the Zhao family gates. But the gatekeepers refused to let them in, ignored their questions, and even tried to chase them off with sticks. When the children dodged every swing, the angry servants threatened to release the dogs if they didn’t leave. The girls spent the whole night in front of the gates, waiting for morning.

  After dawn, a warrior finally came out.

  “So you’re Zhang Ming’s daughters,” he said, bowing his head. “I’m sorry. Because of my greed, a bear attacked him and… I’m sorry.”

  “But… but… he could’ve run from the beast!” the younger protested.

  “Ah,” the warrior sighed, shaking his head. He took a small pouch of coins from his belt and handed it to them. “Here. It’s not much, but it’ll help for a while.”

  In an instant, their small family was gone and all they had left in exchange were ten miserable silver coins. Alone now in a world full of dangers, without kin or protection, they’d lost their support and with it, their hope for safety. Before, their father’s very existence had been a shield for them; even when he left for work, his presence lingered. Now, they could be turned into goods, cheap ones at that.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The girls didn’t remember how they left the city. Their minds were in complete disarray. Though their eyes were red, neither shed a tear. They stubbornly refused to believe their father was dead, refused to mourn him, fearing that doing so would mean saying goodbye forever. Holding hands, they silently walked along the riverbank.

  “I don’t believe it,” Minzhu finally said. “He’s alive. He’ll come back.”

  “Yes,” Xue agreed. “Father is very strong.”

  “Then why is he gone so long?”

  “Something must’ve happened. Something important.”

  “I hope he comes back soon…”

  The river flowed quietly beside them. Gusts of wind rippled its surface, making it shimmer in the sunlight like a dragon’s scales. Unlike the suffocating air of the city, here it smelled of grass and forest. From time to time, a splash broke the silence — sounds of nature that soothed their hearts and brought back a fragile calm.

  By sunset, when the first stars began to appear, the girls finally reached their home by the river. The smell of food and smoke from the fire greeted them. Fish roasted on bamboo skewers, and rice simmered in a small pot, filling the air with a comforting aroma. Nothing seemed out of place, all their belongings were where they’d left them and the sooty-faced boy greeted them with a smile.

  When his ladies had run off in a panic, he’d been terrified that their small, cozy paradise was gone forever. But seeing them return, he couldn’t hide his joy. Afraid to upset them or reopen fresh wounds, the boy didn’t ask any questions, he simply stayed silent. He set out the bowls, served rice and the best pieces of fish, poured hot tea into slightly cracked cups, and only occasionally stole a cautious glance at the sisters. It seemed as though everything was fine, and life had returned to its peaceful rhythm.

  “Phew,” he sighed quietly to himself, relieved.

  The next morning, the boy got up early as usual and went to gather firewood. He was smart enough to realize the sisters were deliberately keeping the secret of how they caught fish, and that pressing the issue would only make them distrust him. When he came back, he heard sounds of a struggle — dropping the bundle of sticks, he sprinted toward the river.

  Pushing through the reeds, he saw five beggars trying to catch the tiny girls while tearing apart their riverside home. They swung clubs with all their strength, though none of their blows found the mark. A sturdily built man, clearly a warrior, stood off to the side, directing the attack.

  “You two, circle around behind them!” he shouted. “Catch them! Catch them!”

  “Hey! We’ll smash everything here if you don’t give up!” one panting beggar yelled, though the threat sounded ridiculous.

  The girls darted around the camp, skillfully dodging the beggars’ hands and weapons. They lacked the courage to fight grown men head-on, yet they refused to run, watching helplessly as their riverside home was destroyed before their eyes. Pots shattered, their contents spilling into the dirt. The hut cracked under the blows of the clubs. Tears filled their eyes as they tried desperately to save at least something, but it was no use.

  “If you want something done right, do it yourself,” the warrior said, pulling a club from his belt. He limped toward one of the girls. “Now you’ll pay for the death of my men, you little brats. You’ll die slowly.”

  “Minzhu, drop everything!” Xue shouted, rushing to her sister and dragging her along. “Run to father!”

  “To father?”

  “We’ll find him ourselves!”

  “Really?”

  “Hey! Catch them!” a warrior yelled, but the beggars were out of breath; one even fell into the mud and simply sat there, gasping for air.

  “We’re trying to catch squirrels with our bare hands,” another complained, panting. “Huff—uff—why are they so quick?”

  “She cut me! That little bitch cut me!”

  The boy watched the scene unfold with a heavy heart. The life that had only just begun to improve was falling apart before his eyes, and the new patrons were running away, forgetting about him. They hadn’t spent much time together, yet he had grown attached to them.

  “We’ll come back for you!” Minzhu’s clear voice reached him. “We’ll find father and come back for you!”

  Bravely wiping away the tears that had begun to well up, the little servant smiled and slowly crawled back toward the forest. He would wait, but not here, autumn promised to be cold, and he would have to return to the city.