Chapter 14 — The Marquis was wronged, I hid with my young master, and later overturned the capital to collect debt.

The old layer of bottle is covered by a new layer of bottle. It didn't make a sound. Doesn't seem to feel pain. He even begged the best hunter in the camp to teach him archery. Its strength is still small and cannot pull an adult's bow. He immediately made a small bow with the softest bamboo. Use the straightest tree branches and cut them into arrows. Every day, it shoots an entire quiver of arrows. His fingers were crushed by the bowstring until his flesh and blood were mixed together, but he didn't care at all. Everyone in the camp noticed its change. They all said, this Chieu Nhi child, it was as if he had grown up overnight. In their eyes, there were more things that they did not understand. There was only Mrs. A. She looked at the back of Co Chieu practicing the bow. Take a deep breath. She told me: "A Dien, this little wolf, has already smelled the scent of blood."

“It's about to start sharpening its fangs and revealing its claws.”

My heart hurts like being pricked by needles. How could we not know? I don't know how many times I wanted to run to it and hug it. Tell him not to practice anymore. Tell him, forget all the hatred. Tell him that we can live in this camp in peace for the rest of our lives. But every time, I see its cold eyes. I couldn't say a word. I promised my lady that I would let him survive. But I don't know, living like this, living with a sea of blood and hatred. “Thank you” For it. It's a kind of luck after all. Or a more cruel kind of torment. What we can do. Just being next to it. As he practiced his sword, I was on his side, preparing medicine for his wound. As he practiced his bow, I was right there, preparing clean water for him. It asked me about everything in the mountain. What kind of poisonous plant can cause people to die without a sound? Which type of vine, the most resilient, can be used as a trap. What kind of beast's weakness is it, and where is it? I don't hold back anything, I bring everything I know and teach it to him. I know that my own hands are forging it into the sharpest sword. A sword, born only for revenge. One day, it came to me.

“Auntie, I want to read a book.”

I was stunned.

"Read a book?"

"YES." he nodded, "I want to be literate."

“Father is a reader.”

“Those who harmed the parents and children were definitely also readers.”

“If you are illiterate, you will never be able to compete with them.”

Its words, like an awl, fiercely pierce my heart. The enemies of the Marquis are those on the court who, while chatting and laughing, can decide the life and death of others. What they fight for is power and strategy. Having only one martial power is absolutely not enough. But I'm just a kitchen girl. Big and small letters, I don't know a basket. What should I teach him?

“Auntie, please teach me how to write my name.”

“Tell me what the words are.”

I grabbed his hand, used a tree branch, on the ground, stroke by stroke wrote down two words.

"Co, is looking back, is trying to judge."

"Chieu, is the move in the day and moon move."

"Your father hopes that you can be like the sun, bright and brilliant."

It looked at the two words on the ground. Looked for a long, long time. Then, holding the branch, imitate writing over and over again. Writing is crooked. But full of force. Since that day, it has acquired a new habit. Every time a street vendor comes in camp. They all use the animal skins they hunt in exchange for something. No matter what book it is. As long as there are words, it wants them all. It uses charcoal, on cliffs in caves, on smooth wooden boards. Copy it over and over again, recognizing the words. It learns very quickly. So fast that it scared me. Its intelligence is like a precious sword hidden in its sheath. Once the light is seen, it is revealed, there is no way to hide it. That winter was especially cold. A rare heavy snowfall fell from the mountains. A pack of hungry, crazy wolves entered the camp. Bite some cattle to death. The men in the camp reorganized, preparing to surround and kill the wolves. Co Chieu also wants to go. I live or die disagreeing. He was just over eight years old, how could he risk his life with the wolves?

“Ah lady, I must go.”

It looked at me, its eyes had a steadfastness that I had never seen before.

“I'm a little wolf, I'm not afraid of wolves.”

“Besides, I want to let them know that I can protect this camp.”

“Only if you are strong enough, so strong that you can protect everyone you want to protect.”

“You have the right to talk about… revenge.”

I look at it. Can't even say a single word. He is no longer a child who needs our protection. It had, its own will. And the road, it must go. that day. It followed the hunters in the camp and entered the vast snow field. I stood at the camp door, waiting all day and night. When it returns. His body was covered in blood. There is the wolf's, there is also the wolf's own. Its arm was scratched by the wolf's teeth, deep to the bone. But in its hand, it dragged a dead alpha wolf.