Rain misted the green hillside, and the bleating of sheep and small lambs could be herd in the cool silence. The rice paddies were filled, and the water rippled as one by one the falling droplets struck its smooth silver surface, distorting the greenery of the surrounding landscape.

                HuiLing sat in the second floor window of the stables where the hay for the horses was stored, her mother was out in the mountains, somewhere. Farming the ginseng before they were so drowned in water they’d die.

                She’d been scolded just this morning for playing with her brothers and getting dirty in the mud and rain, and in her head she was picking apart the lecture piece by piece.

                ‘You must be as fragile as a single grain of rice. Not running around like a dog.’

                The ending was harsh but it got the point across. And HuiLing didn’t speak back, because she understood what her mother was trying to enforce.   

                ‘You are no longer a young toddler. It is time to grow up, and learn your place in this world.’

                She sighed, feeling the faint mist of the water blow in with the breeze and coat her light skin, and she tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, turning away and climbing out of her spot, stretching her arms and moving to climb down the steps. Her brothers were out at school in the city along with their father who was at the market selling their latest crops and animals. She slid on her shoes, and grabbed the bell from its place on the wall, she walked to one of the smaller horses, and entered its pen, warily stepping closer and finding no resistance, patted its neck before putting on its worn leather saddle and bridle before mounting it, bell jingling as she did so, and legs hanging on either side, she grabbed the reigns and ushered it to move out of its safe place.

                The moment they left the sheltered stables the rain struck her face, and she pushed the horse to a gallop, reigns in one hand and bell in the other as she began to shake the item and made the sound ring out into the air, alerting the sheep and  forcing them to move in the direction she desired. She circled the area thrice before managing to get all of them together and back into their pens. The cost, her shirt and hair getting soaked. And she rode around a bit more, enjoying the monsoon rain fall, the cool air of the oncoming winter, and the sound of the still green, frost laced grass under her horse’s hooves.

                Their village wasn’t very large, and the houses lined around the Changbai mountainside that bordered with the Han peninsula which the Japanese had taken away from the empire quite some time ago in the JiaWu war. It seemed quiet and remote here despite rumors that the ancestors of our current ruling family, the Qing, were from these mountaintops.

                But did they ever have to work the farms? Or watch the chickens? She wondered, finally heading inside as the white fog began to cloud the area and descend downwards. Tying the horse up, she moved to check off the last of her chores before shutting the gates and making her way along the path to her family’s main home. She expected her brothers to arrive home soon, and she entered the empty house, taking her shoes off outside the door, and lighting a few gas lamps, moving to warm up the soup.

                As soon as the fire was lit she ran to her room, grabbing her robe and pulling it on, knotting the front laces just as the door slid open and her youngest brother, Shun came inside, running over to embrace her.

                She smiled, looking down at his tiny form. He had just recently begun school, and his uniform was one of the nicest things her family owned. “How was school today?” she asked as he looked up at her with his teeth showing in a smile.

                “Good-“

                “Is food ready, HuiLing?” her older brother entered, and she lowered her gaze and replied swiftly, “It’s warming, just wait a few minutes, Yuan.”

                “It should’ve been ready before we got home,” Xing, the middle brother, a year older than her spoke, walking in and glancing at her briefly, “and why is your hair down? Mama always has her hair tied, why don’t you?”

                Blushing faintly she turned away and moved to braid her hair quickly, pulling the string she used to tie it off her hand.

                As they all settled themselves in their rooms, she moved to watch over the soup, making sure it didn’t burn.

                Once it came to a boil, she poured it out into three bowls and set them on the table, calling out for them to come and eat as she set the kettle for her parent’s afternoon tea, as soon as she finished, there came a knock at the door, and she looked up as her eldest brother crossed the room to answer it, wondering who it could be.

                She noticed her brother straighten as he opened it, and he stepped aside, bowing a bit, motioning with the side of his hand that she move out of the room and did just that, hurrying to her sleeping quarters and shutting the door, welcoming the chance to have an excuse to be alone again.