Historical

I was the lowly maidservant Xiao Yu found too filthy to even spare a glance.

But on the day he realized I had feelings for Xie Lin’an, Xiao Yu abandoned his heavily pregnant favored consort.

He seized me by the throat, his voice cold enough to chill the bone.

“Mutual affection, is it? You think you and Xie Lin’an can run off and live happily together? Keep dreaming!”

I am the most unwanted true heiress in the capital.

My mother took one look at the rough, simple-minded girl who had grown up on the frontier and acted as though she wanted nothing to do with me.

She gave me a purse of silver and coldly sent me away. “Consider it your dowry.”

I was about to leave with my head hanging when my elder brother and half-sister stopped me.

My brother saw that I was beautiful and wanted to use me to win over powerful men.

My half-sister thought I was a fool and wanted to keep me as the maid who washed her feet.

My mother burst into tears and tried desperately to drive me away.

That was when I realized she had never refused to acknowledge me—she was afraid she could not protect me.

The servants tried to hold me there by force.

In the struggle, a jade pendant fell from my sleeve.

My half-sister’s face changed the instant she saw it. “Where did you steal this?”

I answered honestly, “A gentleman with an eye condition gave it to me after I saved his life.”

By day, Song Wenxi is presented as a chaste Daoist nun; by night, Yuzhen Convent sells her to powerful men.

After her abused younger sister dies, Wenxi refuses to accept the same fate and uses a pregnancy to enter the household of Gu Zhun, heir to the Prince of Pingnan.

Inside the princely estate, she discovers that noble wives, concubines, and prostitutes are all trapped by the same brutal order.

To avenge the dead and free the women still imprisoned at Yuzhen Convent, Wenxi turns the desires of the men around her into weapons and sets out to make sure the long night finally ends.

The year I came of age, Father gave me three marriage choices.

I could become the lawful wife of a penniless scholar, the honored concubine of the Marquis of Pingnan’s heir, or the second wife of a wealthy merchant.

I wanted none of them.

Marriage negotiations always came down to the woman’s family, and my father held a modest post while I was merely a concubine-born daughter, so no truly eminent house would consider me.

Still, low birth had never cured me of high ambition.

If I could not marry up, I would sooner hang myself.

My father was once the best-known peddler on Qingyun Street.

He walked from lane to lane selling everything from thread to malt candy.

Then he became addicted to opium.

He sold Mother back to a brothel and stuffed my little sister and me into the baskets on his carrying pole.

The last time he shouldered that pole, the rest of our lives swung from either end.

In my last life, I married Wei Zheng, and everyone in the capital said that the eldest son of the Wei family and I were a match made in heaven.

Wei Zheng and I spoke of the realm and its people, dreaming of peace beneath all four seas.

We spent more time apart than together, never dwelling on petty romance, because greater duties filled our hearts.

When he went north to guard the frontier, I set up porridge kitchens outside the capital.

When he reviewed official papers in his study, I sat beside him annotating ancient texts.

When work kept him overnight at the government office, I thoughtfully sent him a letter: “All is well at home. Do not worry.”

He said I was unlike other delicate young ladies who cared only for moonlight and flowers and pestered their lovers to count their eyelashes.

He praised me for being calm, sensible, and mindful of the greater good.

What he never knew was that, as an imperial princess, I had once been the most pampered, vivacious girl of all.

I had simply spent everything I had chasing after him, running until I could barely breathe.

Then one day, I quarreled with someone while Wei Zheng watched coldly from the side.

Only after we returned home, when no one else was present, did he say in that mild voice of his, “The other person did have more reason on their side.”

That was when I realized he had never once stood on mine.

In my last life, I saved He Yan, the young master of a marquis manor.

He took me as his wife, and for a time, our marriage was the talk of Shangjing.

But I had been born and raised in the countryside.

My manners were crude, and my reputation gradually soured.

He Yan, too, slowly grew distant from me.

I wept day after day, and before I even reached thirty, I died in misery.

Given a second chance, I swore I would never live that way again.

Only, after eating wild greens for three days straight, I realized I simply could not let go of the marquis manor’s soy-braised pork knuckle, sticky rice chicken, crab roe lion’s head meatballs, scallion-fried lamb…

My parents had always told me that the less I spoke, the fewer mistakes I would make, so I became a girl of few words.

At the same time, they adored my older cousin’s bright, gracious manner and told me to imitate her in everything.

They loved her so much that when she refused to marry her impoverished fiancé, they did not hesitate to offer me in her place.

Smiling obsequiously at my uncle, my parents assured him, “Han’er is willing to help her sister out of this difficulty.”

My uncle stared at me in surprise and asked, “Han’er, are you truly willing?”

My parents frantically signaled for me to answer.

I nodded and gave them what they wanted.

“I am.”

Relief washed over their faces.

With no expectations of them left to lose, I finally spoke from the heart.

“Anywhere would be better than staying with a pair of fawning, spineless, shamelessly biased parents.”

By the tenth year of failing to find a human skin, I was ready to flay even the old yellow dog at the temple.

Then I met a beautiful concubine who had been thrown out of the marquis’s estate.

She knelt beside my white bones and burned paper money at the altar.

“The Immortal Lady likes the skin of beauties, and I hate this pretty face of mine. Let’s trade.”

The day I decided to divorce Pei Qingshu was an ordinary one.

Only the night before, he had promised that he would send Miss Liu away the next day, then celebrate my birthday properly with me.

It finally seemed as though our life was about to get better.

Delighted, I rose early, opened my dressing case, and carefully drew my brows while looking into a copper basin.

Then I dug an old pomegranate-red skirt out from the bottom of the camphorwood chest.

After seven years of marriage, I did not own a single decent piece of jewelry.

Seeing my bare ears, I pinched off a balsam blossom and tucked it behind my bun.

On my way out to buy vegetables, I ran into Chunxiang’s mother, who caught my arm with a teasing smile.

“I saw Master Pei buy two hairpins the other day—one gold, one jade. Let me see which one you’re wearing.”

Then she noticed the balsam flower in my hair and froze.