Chapter 1 — Cold Forest, Failed Hunt
The biting Cold
The morning wind did not just blow; it bit into the skin like invisible teeth.
Long Tan pushed through the thin layer of crunchy snow as he walked into the edge of the Blackwood Forest. The world was grey and white. His breath came out in heavy, white clouds that vanished instantly in the freezing air.
Frost covered every leaf, turning the forest into a statue of ice.
Long Tan looked down at his feet. His shoes were made of old, rough cloth. They were cracked at the sides, and the snow had melted through the gaps. Every step sent a sharp pain of cold through his toes, making them feel numb and heavy, like blocks of wood.
He adjusted the wooden bow on his shoulder. It was an old hunting bow, passed down from his father. The wood was worn smooth, and the string was starting to fray.
He lifted his bow and pulled the string experimentally.
Creak.
The wood groaned. His fingers shook uncontrollably. His skin was red, raw, and split from the dry winter air. Blood crusted in the small cracks of his knuckles.
Winter always made hunting harder. But this winter felt cruel.
The bowstring slipped slightly in his numb grip. He clenched his teeth, forcing his hand to stay steady.
"Focus, Long Tan," he whispered, his voice sounding small in the vast, silent forest. "I need to bring food home… even a small rabbit. Anything."
But his body felt weak. Hollow.
He had not eaten a proper meal with meat for many days. He always gave the biggest portions to his wife and son.
The image of his family flashed in his mind.
Su Lan was almost nine months pregnant. Her belly was large, straining against her thin clothes.
Little San was five years old, but he looked smaller. He was getting thinner every day.
And then there was the looming shadow over their heads: The Winter Tax.
Ten silver coins.
It was a mountain of money for a poor hunter. If he didn't pay, the consequences would be terrible.
The pressure sat inside his chest like a heavy, cold stone, making it hard to breathe.
Flashback: The Departure
He remembered the scene from just an hour ago, before the sun had fully risen.
Their small wooden hut was drafty. The wind whistled through cracks in the walls.
Su Lan had walked him to the door, holding her heavy belly with both hands. Her face was pale, lacking the rosy color of health. Her eyes were sunken from lack of sleep and lack of food.
"Tan…" Her voice was soft, barely a whisper. She reached out and fixed the collar of his thin coat. "Don't push yourself too hard today."
Long Tan had lowered his eyes. He couldn't bear to look at the worry on her face. He felt ashamed of his own weakness.
"If I don't push, we will starve," he said, his voice grim. "The snow is getting deeper. I must go while I can."
Su Lan tried to smile. It was a brave, broken smile. Fear lingered deep in her eyes—fear that he wouldn't come back, or fear that he would come back empty-handed.
"Just… come back alive," she said gently.
"I will," he promised.
He had turned and walked away quickly into the snow, marching before she could see the tears of frustration welling in his eyes. He didn't want her to know how terrified he truly was.
The Hunt
Back in the forest, Long Tan shook his head to clear the memory. Focus.
He had been walking for over an hour. His legs burned.
Suddenly, he spotted movement near a cluster of dead bushes.
He froze.
A rabbit.
It was a grey winter rabbit, chewing on a patch of frozen brown grass. It was unaware of him.
Food.
Life.
Long Tan's heart began to hammer against his ribs. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
He slowly raised his bow. He moved inch by inch, trying not to make a sound. The snow crunched softly under his boot, but the wind covered the noise.
He held his breath. The cold air burned his lungs, but he didn't exhale.
He pulled the string back. The resistance of the bow felt heavier than usual because his arms were so weak from hunger.
He aimed for the rabbit's neck.
Just one shot. Don't miss.
Pain shot through his fingers. The cold had made his joints stiff.
The bowstring trembled in his grip. The tip of the arrow wavered—left, right, left.
Steady! he screamed in his mind.
He released.
Twang!
The arrow flew through the air.
But his trembling hand had betrayed him. The arrow flew slightly too high.
It struck the frozen ground just inches above the rabbit's head. Thud.
The rabbit's ears shot up. Instantly, it bolted. It was a blur of grey fur jumping between the bushes.
"No… no!"
Panic exploded in Long Tan's chest. He didn't think; he just reacted. He chased after it clumsily.
His boots slipped on the hidden ice beneath the snow.
"Come back!"
He scrambled over a fallen log, his chest burning as if he had swallowed fire. His vision blurred. Black spots danced in his eyes—the sign of extreme hunger.
The rabbit was too fast. It darted between two large rocks and disappeared into a deep, dark hole in the earth.
Gone.
Long Tan skidded to a stop. He stared at the empty hole.
The silence returned to the forest.
He dropped his bow. He bent down, gripping his knees, gasping for air. His lungs wheezed.
"…Why?" he choked out. "Why am I so weak?"
He wiped sweat from his freezing forehead. The mixture of hot sweat and cold wind made him shiver violently.
"My wife… she is hungry. My child… he is waiting for his father. And I still fail…"
He looked at his shaking hands. They looked pathetic.
The forest stayed silent and cold. The tall trees looked down on him indifferently. Nature did not care about his pain. Nature did not care if a poor family starved.
Searching Deeper
He could not go home yet. Not like this.
He picked up his bow and walked deeper into the forest, farther than he usually dared to go.
The trees grew taller here. Their branches twisted together overhead, blocking out the sky. It was darker, like twilight, even though it was morning.
Growl.
His stomach made a loud, angry noise. It twisted in a knot.
He checked everywhere.
He looked under snowy bushes.
He checked hollow logs.
He walked along the frozen riverbank.
Nothing.
Not a deer. Not another rabbit. Not even a squirrel. The winter had driven all the animals into hiding.
"If I return empty-handed… what will they eat tonight?"
He leaned against a rough tree bark, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Will Su Lan just drink hot water again to trick her stomach? Will Little San cry himself to sleep?"
His body felt dizzy. He swayed on his feet.
Winter was cruel.
But hunger was even crueler. It was a slow knife that cut you day by day.
The Unexpected Discovery
Just when despair started to grip his heart, making him want to lie down in the snow and sleep… his eyes caught a strange shape.
Under the roots of a massive, fallen oak tree, shielded from the snow, something was growing.
He squinted.
A cluster of mushrooms.
They were pale yellow, growing in a thick bunch.
Long Tan's eyes widened. He recognized them immediately from his father's teachings.
Forest Chicken Mushrooms.
He rushed forward, falling to his knees in the snow. He didn't care about the cold wetness soaking his pants.
He touched them. They were firm and fresh.
These were not poisonous. They were safe. When cooked, they had the texture and taste of chicken meat. They were incredibly nutritious—perfect for a pregnant woman and a growing child.
"Thank Heaven…" his voice cracked. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
He began to pick them carefully. He treated them like they were made of gold.
One handful.
Then two.
Then three.
There was a whole colony of them hidden under the log.
He took off his outer cloth bundle and filled it.
Soon, the bundle was heavy.
He tied the cloth to his waist tightly, feeling the weight of it against his hip. It was the best weight in the world.
"With this… Su Lan can eat," he whispered, a frantic hope rising in his chest. "Little San can eat. We can make a thick soup. We can survive two, maybe three days with this."
Finally, the tension in his face broke.
He smiled.
It was a small smile, cracked lips stretching over teeth, but it was real. He wasn't returning with meat, but he wasn't returning with nothing.
The Long Walk Home
He stood up, his knees popping.
He turned back toward the direction of the village. The wind was now pushing against his back, urging him forward.
The adrenaline of the discovery faded, and the exhaustion returned tenfold.
He felt heavy. So tired he could barely lift his legs to take the next step.
He looked at the grey sky through the branches. The sun was already moving west.
"How long can I live like this…?" he whispered to the wind.
Finding mushrooms was lucky. But luck does not last forever.
The tax was still there.
His lack of strength was still there.
The poverty was still there.
No answer came from the sky.
Only the sound of the wind howling through the empty winter forest, a reminder that tomorrow, the struggle would begin all over again.