Title: Handful of Snow (握雪)
Author: Yue Banding (月半丁)
Status: Completed with 25 Chapters.
Translation Status: N/A (Teaser)
Translator Notes: It’s a very interesting story written in the second perspective about two broken people who tries to find solace in each other, with a pinch of murder involved. 😡 This is just a teaser, feel free to contact us if you want to work on it! Also, this is not a choose your own adventure book!! I would, however, love to see your thoughts about it.
Chapter 1 (Teaser)
At the end of the year when you turned fifteen, you finally made a move on your father.
He was a dazzling scum of society, looking all elegant and graceful on the outside, humorous and witty. But in fact, he had always been showering you with domestic violence ever since you were a kid.
Your mother passed away when you were seven. Since then he had changed, or you could say he began to show his true nature.
He was an average rich businessman, with a ton of friends around him. Yet, your home had never hired a maid or servant. He was always drunk whenever he came home and could never walk straight. He would even grab a rod to hit you with it.
Once he had his fill of violence, he would then collapse onto the bed into a deep sleep.
You had to make sure he had a good sleep, and ensure that you made him a soup to sober him up. Otherwise, hell would once again befall you.
There was a time you messed up and as a result, he drove you out in the middle of winter. It was still snowing outside. You were only ten years old then, dressed in pyjamas as you collapsed before your home’s door, freezing yourself to death. Even when you’d passed out, he didn’t once soften up.
When you woke up again, you realized you were on your own bed. You didn’t feel anything at all, not even an ounce of happiness. The only thing you did was carve this incident into your very bones in silence.
You moved out of the house starting at the age of eleven as your father forbid you from staying there any longer. He helped you buy a random apartment to stay in.
However, you still had to return every week to fulfil your filial duty, expressing your loyalty before this middle-aged mad man.
But regardless of how good of a performance you put on, the man was never satisfied.
He took his cane to thrash your leg before swinging it to deliver a blow to your head. His face was constantly smiling as he explained this was to check whether your bones were tough enough.
You felt that if you had to wait until you were of age, it would be too late.
Being a minor was your only and last chance.
You only returned to this place once a week. Although there weren’t any servants around, it was always clean. You despised the act your father puts on. He even had to pretend in this area.
You had prepared a rod and sleeping pills before you returned to hole yourself up in your home.
Fortunately you didn’t have to use the sleeping spills as during midnight, your father was drunk again, unable to walk straight. You stealthily came out from behind the door, closing in on him. The moment the rod you struck out connected with the back of his head, he didn’t even put up a fight. With a “BANG!”, he collapsed onto the floor.
You continued to viciously strike his head without mercy, your face devoid of all emotions. You’d completely inherited his genes as at the age of fifteen you were already tall, big and burly. This fact alone made it effortless for you to commit this heinous crime.
You kept beating his head until blood splattered out onto the floor. He remained unmoving as though he was completely dead, but his body would flinch once or twice whenever you struck him.
When you were about to crouch down with the intention to verify whether he was still breathing…
…to your surprise, you heard a sound that shouldn’t be present within the villa.
It came from downstairs, and it sounded like someone knocked into something.
You’ve lived here for many years so you knew perfectly well that there was a basement in your home. Putting down the rod, you attentively tied both your father’s arms and legs before picking up the rod once more, venturing to the basement door in your memories.
Your footsteps were incredibly light. You paid great attention.
One hand gripping onto the rod, you pushed open the door and walked down gradually. There seemed to be traces of life around since the stairs were clean and tidy. When you reached the bottom, a dimly-lit room appeared before you.
It was really small, with a hanging lamp, a table, and a bed, looking exceptionally cramped.
A person with long, black hair was seated before the table.
The moment he raised his head, you were stunned.
That should be a man. The features on his face were no doubt the distinctive features of a man, seemingly at twenty five or twenty six years old. But he was too beautiful so you were thrown off his real gender. His skin was exceptionally fair since he hadn’t been under the sunlight for ages. That smooth, silky, fair skin which covered his bones were as soft and smooth as milk yarn. He seemed to be eating right now. Lifting a hand, the sounds of rattling chains permeated crisply in the air. He then turned to look towards you.
Those were a pair of eyes that glistened like clear pools of water, so pure-looking as if they were oblivious to the ways of the world. At the start, a look of relaxation adorned his face which was mixed together with a sense of wanting to please, but when the face of a stranger entered his line of sight, his expression contorted in that instant into confusion and unease.
You took a few steps forward. He instantly curled up and asked dubiously, “Who are you…”
He was wearing a low-cut, rounded wide collar t-shirt. Your eyes could clearly see the love marks left on his neck.
All of a sudden, realisation dawned on you.
Your father had actually hidden this truth from you and raised a chunk of meat for his exclusive consumption in this place.
So you decided to:
- Soften your tone to make him trust you.
- Pin the crime on him, turning him into your own scapegoat.
End of Chapter 1 Teaser