A rich city boy came to our poor mountain town to "experience life." He was hungry? I handed him a bowl. He was sleepy? I made his bed. He was bored? I found him entertainment. The villagers called me a sycophant, a brown-noser. I didn't care one bit. Who else paid as well as he did? After saving him from a rattlesnake, I followed him back to the city. His stepmother had evil intentions, but every time danger loomed, I managed to help him turn misfortune into luck. He said, "Ruby, you really are my lucky star." Looking into his clear, foolish eyes, I sighed. How do I tell him the woman he calls "mom" is actually a viper? 1 The biting cold wind stung my cheeks, and mud splattered freely on my pant legs from the half-melted snow on the dirt road. I hadn't made much from selling vegetables this morning, and my only good pair of shoes had finally given up the ghost. Through the hole, my big toe poked out of my tattered sock, giving me a friendly wave. Sigh. Mood: Dismal. A convoy of sleek black SUVs approached, and I stepped aside to let them pass. These cars looked way fancier than the ones Uncle Bob's rich relatives drove. When I got to the village entrance, I saw a tall boy who looked completely out of place. He had a mop of bright blond hair and was frowning impatiently as he directed two men carrying luggage. "Easy! Those are my babies in there." "Don't put them on the ground! It's all mud." There was too much stuff; four hands clearly weren't enough for the two men. "Hey, little girl, do you know where the mayor's house is?" one of them asked me. I pointed to the biggest, fanciest house in the village. "Thanks. Can you give us a hand?" I slung my vegetable basket onto my back and grabbed their remaining bags. Blondie must be the rich kid the mayor talked about, the one coming to the countryside to "experience life." Experience what? Eating potatoes three times a day for a week? Anyway, the mayor said we had to be hospitable. Apparently, if he's happy, he might donate money to the village. When we arrived, I put down the bags and turned to leave. Blondie pulled out a few bills and held them out to me. I tilted my head, looking at him in confusion. What for? "Why are you staring? Take the money." Oh? For me? My jaw dropped. I reached out. His pale, slender fingers contrasted sharply with my red, chapped hands. On the way back, clutching the $500, I practically skipped home. Grandma and I only made a few thousand a year. This money was enough for my tuition next year. As soon as I got home, Grandma started nagging: "Don't go selling vegetables in this weather. You'll freeze, and nobody's buying anyway." This time, I agreed happily. I had a better way to make money now. 2 The next day, I camped out in front of the mayor's house at dawn. It wasn't until the sun was high that Blondie finally emerged, holding something up and cursing: "Damn it, what is this hellhole? Why isn't there any signal?" My eyes lit up. I sprinted back to our cowshed and dug out an old, unused fishing net. It had a huge hole in it, but he just said he wanted a "net" (network), right? A hole shouldn't matter. When I got back, he was yelling at the two men who came with him. "No AC, no heating, not even internet. I'm going back. I can't stay here for a single day." "Young Master, you can't go back without Mr. Sterling's permission." Blondie barred his teeth in anger, looking like he wanted to hit someone. I ran up and handed him the fishing net: "Here!" He looked down at me, then at the thing in my hand, completely confused: "What?" "The net you wanted." He snorted, bursting into laughter: "No, little hillbilly. That's not the kind of 'net' I need." ??? Not this one? My shoulders slumped instantly. Money-making scheme failed! 3 In the afternoon, before I even reached the mayor's house, I saw Blondie and his crew from a distance. I followed them immediately. After a while, he turned around and asked, "Why are you following us?" I grinned at him. "Weirdo," he muttered. Quiet as it was, I heard it. Stupid Blondie! I cursed internally. I followed them to the river. It was cold, and the lake had frozen over. Blondie took out a pair of strange shoes and bragged to me: "Little hillbilly, watch and learn. I'm going to show you some figure skating." I twitched my mouth silently, ran to find a big rock, and heaved it onto the ice. The rock slid for a few meters and stopped in the middle of the lake. A few seconds later, the ice cracked, and the rock fell in with a plop. I tilted my head and asked him: "Still skating?" His face turned beet red. He pointed a finger at the men next to him: "Damn it, this was your idea? Are you trying to kill me?" "Wait till we get back. I'll have my dad fire you two idiots. Go eat sh*t!" Still angry, he kicked both of them. Once he vented enough, I walked up to him and extended my hand. He high-fived me naturally: "Thanks, or I would have been in trouble." I froze for a second, then frowned in dissatisfaction: "Pay up!" Embarrassment was written all over his face, but he signaled his companion to give me money. On the way back, he asked: "Little hillbilly, is there anything fun to do around here?" "Nope." Because I never played. "What about good food?" "Baked potatoes!" "What else?" "Steamed potatoes!" "Nothing else?" "Fried potatoes!" "Hillbillies really have no imagination," he scoffed. Calling me a hillbilly every other sentence. I was getting annoyed! "Blondie!" Giving nicknames? I can do that too. "Damn, you dare call me that? Hillbilly!" He raised his voice, trying to overpower me. I've never lost a shouting match in the village. I rolled up my sleeves and roared with the force of a mountain lion: "Blond~~~~ie~~~~!" The three of them covered their ears in unison. "You... you... barbarian." Blondie was pissed. He was much taller than me, and I could see his nostrils flaring from anger. I raised my head defiantly, making a face back at him. "Hahaha... did your face cramp?" He clutched his stomach laughing. ??? "I win," I said proudly. "Tch, I won't argue with a girl. Little hillbilly, my name is Liam Sterling." "Ruby Lane." 4 From that day on, I became Liam's little shadow. Whatever help he needed, I was there. He was hungry? I prepared a fancy potato feast. He complained: "Is this stuff even edible?" Then proceeded to inhale three bowls, claiming he was only eating it to save my face because I worked hard. He was bored? I took him ice sliding on plastic tubs. He sat in the cramped tub, happy as a 3-year-old, while I ran up and down the hill dragging him, panting like an old ox. But counting the red bills he gave me every night, I giggled in my sleep. Villagers started making snide comments, calling me a sellout. I grinned: "You're just jealous you didn't think of it first." They rolled their eyes and walked away. Today, the mayor told me Liam went hunting in the mountains with Old Man Liu. Someone stealing my job? Unacceptable! I rushed up the mountain. Luckily, few people went up in this season, so the footprints in the snow were easy to track. Suddenly, I heard terrified screaming nearby. I ran towards the sound and saw Liam sitting on the ground. A meter away from him, a slender green creature stood out against the snow. The people with him were useless, backing away to save their own skins. The snake had raised its head, ready to strike. Liam was my cash cow; he couldn't get hurt. Without thinking, I raised the walking stick I brought, charged forward, and swung it at the snake's head. Bam! Thanking the aim I practiced hitting rats at home. Afraid it would strike back, I kept swinging. Whack! Whack! Whack! I didn't stop until my arms were sore. Uh! The snake was basically paste now. I poked the head with the stick. A bamboo viper. Deadly poisonous! Liam was pale as a sheet, staring blankly. "Such a waste. It's ruined. Could have made snake soup." Thinking of the taste, I licked my lips. "Eat? Just... let's go down." Liam dragged me away, as if afraid I'd actually take it home to stew. I looked back at the snake carcass. Weird! Shouldn't snakes be hibernating in this weather? Down the mountain, I extended my hand as usual. Liam poked my forehead, exasperated: "Why are you so money-obsessed? My life is worth more than a few bucks. You saved me once, I owe you one big favor. Go home and think about what you want."
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