She thought she was going to die.
She did.
But the next time she opened her eyes , she found out that she was living a whole new life, as a little girl who was going to enter a noble household as a maid.
However, a true pearl can never hide its lus...
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JingMo's childhood home was a small eatery that his parents had set up. The location, although quite far from the border town that formally separated the Northern Plains and Zhang Empire, was frequently visited by travelers who wanted to find cheaper eats.
His father was from the Jing tribe, but his mother was a citizen of Zhang Empire. In the areas close to the border, that kind of communion was more common, especially after the Jing tribe was scattered after the insurgence.
The house was built by his father for his mother, and that was where JingMo was born as well.
Behind his house, was a mountain range. JingMo had known it to be as familiar as his own backyard.
One day, he found some broken egg shells by some rocks at the base of the mountain. Not far from it, there was a baby eagle, hiding under another rock.
Despite being bald and weak - it seemed to have just hatched - it chirped loudly as soon as it saw JingMo. Upon closer inspection, JingMo found that its right wing was also bleeding. Looking up at the high mountains, JingMo thought that the baby bird must have fallen off its nest.
JingMo waited for a bit to see if its mother would come for it. But as the day became darker, and the baby bird' chirps grew weaker, JingMo decisively gathered it in his arms and brought it home.
His father smiled at him as he saw the baby bird in his son's arms,
"A mountain eagle."
"A mountain eagle is your marking, son." his father said, "Same as mine. But I never had the fate to befriend one."
"Looks like it has taken quite a liking to you," his mother chuckled as she ruffled JingMo's hair affectionately,
"There is some rice gruel we can feed him. Hopefully it can survive."
"Yes, it definitely has imprinted itself on you," his father also laughed heartily when he saw the little bird nudged its bald head against his son's arms. It also tried to peck him when he got closer. JingMo was a bit proud at that. After all, when he first found the bird, the bird did not show any hostility to him.
"It will be your protector as it grows older," he squinted his eyes at the bald bird's belly, "It is a male as well. What will you call him, son?(1)"
JingMo looked at the tiny bird and how weak it seemed to be. To be his protector, this bird must grow strong and mighty. Stronger than any other mountain eagle. As strong as an ox.
"I will name him Niu."
All was well, until one night, JingMo was playing at the mountain range behind his house. Niu was growing well and needed to start learning to fly, so they spent their whole day there. Thankfully, the small wound on its right wing healed and did not impede Niu's movement.
But when JingMo returned home, entering his house from the back door that was his usual entrance whenever he played at the mountains, he smelled blood.
