Blossoms Under The Moon

The sun hung low over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the fields, but to Liang Yi, the sight offered little comfort. Her hands, rough and calloused from years of labor, gripped the hoe as she worked tirelessly through the last stretch of daylight. Around her, the crops drooped, their once-green leaves turning brown and brittle under the unrelenting drought that had plagued their land for months. Liang Yi wiped her brow with her sleeve and glanced around. Her farm, once a prosperous plot of land that provided enough to feed her family and trade in the market, now resembled a barren wasteland. The earth was dry and cracked, and what few crops survived were barely worth harvesting. Her heart ached as she remembered the years of hard work she and her late parents had poured into this soil, now reduced to dust. At the edge of the field, her younger brother, Liang Wei, struggled to carry a bucket of water from the village well. His frail frame staggered under the weight, and she winced as she watched him trip over a rock, spilling most of the precious water onto the parched ground. “Wei!” she called out, running over to him. Her voice was gentle, but concern furrowed her brow. “Careful, we can't afford to waste any more water.” Liang Wei looked up at her, his face flushed from exertion and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Jie,” he mumbled, using the familiar term for “sister.” He quickly picked up the bucket, but the water was nearly gone. Liang Yi placed a hand on his shoulder, offering a soft smile despite the worry gnawing at her. “It’s all right. Go refill it, and take your time. We’ll manage.” As her brother shuffled back toward the village, Liang Yi stood up, scanning the horizon. Dark clouds hung in the distance, but they had long learned not to trust them. Promises of rain had come and gone, and with each passing week, hope seemed to slip further from their grasp. In the distance, the sound of approaching hooves echoed through the still air. Liang Yi squinted, spotting a group of riders approaching from the west. Her heart sank as she recognized the banner flying above them—a red and gold dragon, the sigil of Prince Jing. The tax collectors had come early. “Jie, they’re here!” Liang Wei’s voice rang out as he rushed toward her, breathless and pale. “I know,” she muttered, her grip tightening around the handle of her hoe. Her pulse quickened as she watched the riders approach the village, their armor gleaming in the dying light. “Get back to the house, Wei. Quickly.” Her brother hesitated, fear evident in his eyes. “What if they—” “I said go!” she barked, more forcefully than she intended. Liang Wei flinched but obeyed, running back toward the small cottage they shared. Liang Yi stood her ground as the horsemen rode into the village. Their leader, a man with a cold, imperious gaze, dismounted first. His armor was polished to a sheen, a stark contrast to the ragged appearance of the villagers who gathered anxiously at the entrance. The villagers had seen this man before—Captain Wei, one of Prince Jing’s favored soldiers. His reputation for cruelty had spread like wildfire through the countryside, and his visits were always marked by fear and suffering. Captain Wei’s eyes swept over the gathered crowd with disdain. “By order of His Royal Highness, Prince Jing, you are to deliver the quarterly taxes immediately,” he announced in a booming voice, though it carried an air of indifference, as if he were merely stating a fact. “Failure to comply will result in severe punishment.” A murmur of panic rippled through the villagers. Liang Yi watched as several of them exchanged desperate glances. She knew, as they all did, that the village had little to offer. The drought had ravaged their crops, and what little they had left was needed to survive the coming winter. One of the village elders, a frail man named Elder Ma, stepped forward. His voice was shaky, but he held himself with as much dignity as he could muster. “Captain Wei, we beg your understanding. The drought has been unrelenting. Our crops have failed, and we have barely enough to feed our families.” Captain Wei’s lip curled in disdain. “That is not my concern, old man. His Highness expects his due, regardless of your circumstances. Now, where is your village head? Someone must be held accountable for this delay.” Liang Yi clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She knew what was coming next. If the taxes were not paid, Captain Wei would make an example of someone—usually the village head or another prominent figure. And the punishment was always swift and brutal. Before Elder Ma could respond, a younger man stepped forward from the crowd—Qiu Ren, the wealthiest farmer in the village. His expression was one of practiced humility, but there was a glint in his eyes that Liang Yi had learned to distrust over the years. “Captain Wei,” Qiu Ren said, bowing low, “perhaps we can come to an arrangement. I understand the village has fallen on hard times, but I have some surplus from my own fields. If it pleases His Highness, I am willing to contribute extra to cover the shortfall.” There was a brief pause as Captain Wei considered the offer, his gaze narrowing. “You would do this for your fellow villagers?” Qiu Ren smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “Of course. We are all one community, after all. It is only right that I help where I can.” Liang Yi’s stomach churned. She knew what this meant. Qiu Ren had long coveted her family’s land, and with this gesture, he would position himself as the village’s savior. In return, he would demand favors and concessions from the others, cementing his control over the village. Captain Wei seemed to sense the tension in the air. His lips curled into a thin smile. “Very well. You have three days to gather the necessary taxes. If you fail…” His gaze flickered over the crowd, settling on Liang Yi for just a moment before he turned back to his horse. “You will face the consequences.” With that, the riders mounted their horses and rode off, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. The villagers began to disperse, murmuring in hushed voices. Liang Yi stood rooted to the spot, her mind racing. She glanced toward Qiu Ren, who was already speaking to a few villagers, offering his “help” with a smirk that made her blood boil. She knew she couldn’t let this happen. Her farm—her family’s legacy—was all she had left. But in a world where the strong preyed on the weak, how could she hope to stand against someone like Qiu Ren, let alone a tyrant like Prince Jing? The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the withered fields. Tomorrow, she decided, she would find a way. She had to.