Chapter 19: With the Matriarch Here

Indeed, it was quite a sight—a five-year-old girl lecturing a group of eight- and nine-year-old boys. The scene would look amusing anywhere else, but in Niuluo Village, it was nothing out of the ordinary. After all, she was the little matriarch. Even if she scolded elders in their sixties or seventies, no one would dare object.

Bai Xi paid no heed to their impatience. She watched, calm and composed, as the boys scratched their heads in worry. When she felt they had stewed enough, she finally spoke in a slow, leisurely tone, “If you don’t want me tagging along, there’s a way—but you’ll have to do as I say.”

Though she was small, everyone in the village instinctively kept an eye on her, afraid something might happen to her. Bai Xi mulled it over—she needed some eyes and ears. She didn’t need to know everything, but she had to be aware of what was going on in general.

Little Shunzi and his friends were always running about the village, so it wouldn’t be strange for them to overhear things. Bai Xi decided to glean information from them.

“Little matriarch, we’ll do as you say.”

“Yes, little matriarch, just tell us.”

“If there’s anything you want, just let us know.”

Seeing their earnest faces, Bai Xi nodded in satisfaction. “That’s more like it.”

Little Shunzi, ever curious, asked, “Little matriarch, why didn’t Sister Chen Rui take you with her to play today?”

Bai Xi couldn’t be bothered to tell him she’d sent Chen Rui away. Annoyed, she retorted, “Why are you asking so many questions? I told you to listen to me, not to interrogate me.”

“Oh, then… I won’t ask.”

“Alright, remember: you have to obey me. Whatever I ask you to do, you do it—no back talk and absolutely no telling anyone else,” Bai Xi said. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes, we hear you.”

When they all answered obediently, Bai Xi waved them off at last.

But just as they were leaving, she called them back. As they looked at her in puzzlement, Bai Xi opened the cloth bundle in her hand and handed each of them a piece of milk candy. She thought to herself, “Now that you’ve tasted my candy, if you don’t do as I say, you’ll see how I deal with you.”

“Little matriarch, can we really eat this?” they asked, holding the candy but not daring to touch it. Little Shunzi spoke for them all.

“Suit yourselves. I gave it to you,” Bai Xi said, then turned and went back to her treehouse.

Little Shunzi and his friends glanced at each other. So the little matriarch only wanted them to do as she said and gave them candy in return?

Obeying her meant getting candy—what’s not to like? They had to listen to her anyway.

As for her warning not to tell anyone, the boys didn’t think much of it. Everyone said the little matriarch was in charge; if she said to keep quiet, that’s what they’d do.

No one knew who started it, but soon the wrappers were off and the milk candies were in their mouths. The sweet, creamy flavor filled their mouths, and they all squinted their eyes in delight.

So sweet!

That night, Bai Xi, who had no meat to eat, woke up hungry in the middle of the night.

She sat up helplessly and patted her slightly sunken belly, feeling both angry and wronged. All she had done before bed was test her own spiritual pressure—how could she be starving so soon? It must be because there was no meat.

But then she thought, if she could be woken by hunger, the others in the village must be in the same boat.

There was plenty of game in the mountains behind the village. Bai Xi pursed her lips. If only she could go there, she’d be in her element—she could choose any meat she wanted.

The more she thought about it, the hungrier she became. Bai Xi had no choice but to fish out a piece of milk candy, peel it, and suck on it to quell her hunger a little before drifting off again.

In her drowsiness, Bai Xi felt herself drawn by something. She left the treehouse, walked out of the village, and headed for the mountain behind. She walked a long, long way until she reached a cave.

There seemed to be some sort of sound coming from within. Just as Bai Xi was about to go in and see what was inside, the crowing of a rooster rang out, and she woke up.

Rubbing her eyes, Bai Xi sat up, freezing for a moment. Was that a dream?

How odd—why would she dream something like that? And it felt so real, as if she had truly gone out and experienced it.

Bai Xi was puzzled. Could she really have “gone out”? Was it possible for her soul to leave her body?

For the next two days, Bai Xi kept trying to test this, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t manage to let her soul leave her body, leaving her both disappointed and helpless.

As for Chen Rui, that girl had been up at dawn the last two days, heading out to cut pig grass. Every time she passed the treehouse, she’d tiptoe by and then dash off, afraid Bai Xi would want to follow, which made Bai Xi grit her teeth in annoyance.

But her mind was occupied with the thought of whether there was really a cave in the mountain, so she wasn’t in a hurry to follow Chen Rui to cut grass.

Ever since Bai Xi had given milk candy to Little Shunzi and his friends, those boys would always linger obediently by the treehouse whenever they played nearby, waiting to see if Bai Xi had any errands for them. If not, they’d go off to play.

Sometimes, Bai Xi would have them collect river stones for her; sometimes, she’d send them to pick flowers. No matter what it was, if she told them, they’d do it.

Within two days, Bai Xi had news from Little Shunzi and his friends.

Though they didn’t understand everything, they parroted what they’d heard from the adults at home.

“So you’re saying the grain quota for the second half of the year has been announced?” Bai Xi asked.

Little Stone nodded. “Little matriarch, that’s what my parents said. The quota for the second half is even higher than the first half’s. The harvest looks good right now, but who knows what will happen. Everyone’s worried.”

The smiles had faded from the boys’ faces, and they all looked anxious. Even at their age, they knew that if they had to hand over more grain, there wouldn’t be enough left to eat. No one wanted to go hungry.

Bai Xi understood at once. No wonder.

People in the village had seemed off these days, but when she asked, they were unwilling to say—after all, she was only five. Everyone thought she wouldn’t understand.

“Little matriarch, are we really going to go hungry?” one boy couldn’t help but ask.

Before Bai Xi could answer, Little Shunzi shot him a look. “Why ask the little matriarch? How would she know?”

How could she not know? She wasn’t really just a five-year-old child! Bai Xi glared at Little Shunzi in annoyance. “Are you the little matriarch or am I?”

Little Shunzi scratched his head awkwardly, pleading, “Little matriarch, I was wrong, I was wrong.”

Bai Xi didn’t really want to argue with him. She was a nine-tailed fox spirit—what satisfaction was there in bickering with a mortal child?

“Don’t worry, as long as I’m here, I won’t let you go hungry.”

Little Stone chimed in, “But, little matriarch, my parents said the city folk are all going hungry now. You’re little, too.”

“That’s the city folk,” Bai Xi said, pointing her chubby hand toward the mountain. “We’re different—we have the mountain behind us, with wild rabbits and chickens.”