When I was four, a fortune-teller said I was fated to bring misfortune upon my parents. So they sent me away to a rural estate. For ten years, they never came to see me, nor did they care whether I lived or died.
At fourteen, they brought me home-so they could marry me off.
My legitimate elder sister laughed. “A fool marrying a sickly wretch. A match made in heaven.”
My parents said, “If this engagement weren’t impossible to break, and if your sister weren’t about to marry into a noble family, you wouldn’t even be worthy of carrying his shoes.”
“A married daughter is water poured out. Once you’re gone, don’t come back for anything.”
Only he held my hand and taught me to write my own name.
And then he taught me to write: “A woman, too, must respect and cherish herself, strive without ceasing, and press ever forward.”
