Mature

I heard the daughter of Tailor Han in the east of town had become an official’s concubine.

Some said she was off to a life of comfort.

Others said she was off to suffer.

I was that daughter of the Han family.

The day they took my mother away, I clung to her and wouldn’t let go.

My little brother blocked the car too, demanding fifty thousand yuan.

That was about the going rate for a wife in our village.

But she was my mother.

You couldn’t sell your mother.

No dutiful daughter would do that.

Sure enough, someone in the car shoved me aside and roared, “To hell with your dad!

We can’t stay here!”

Then they drove off.

I’d never been to school.

I didn’t understand things.

But one sentence stuck in my head: “He can’t stay here.”

My cousin got drunk and raped my little sister.

“I’ll take her as a concubine, then,” he said, as though it hardly mattered.

Grandmother said, “With that ugly face of hers, my precious grandson is the one being wronged.”

Mother murmured, “Amitabha.

Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise.”

I took a willow switch and whipped my cousin without mercy.

Then I told them all, “Under the laws of this dynasty, the punishment for raping a girl under twelve is death.”

Twenty years into Wen Lishu’s widowhood, her bedridden mother-in-law reveals a secret: her husband faked his death and eloped with her sister.

Even the children Lishu raised supposedly belong to that treacherous pair.

The old woman expects despair, but Lishu calmly offers another spoonful of medicine.

Her husband really is dead—and his ashes have been in his mother’s medicine all along.

I was a coward by nature, timid as a quail.

Mother taught me the secret to making a living when you were poor— Do whatever people ask.

I never forgot.

At fourteen, my sister-in-law sold me to a brothel.

As she was leaving, she wiped away her tears.

“Xiaoqiao, I truly can’t bear to part with you.”

So I begged the madam to take her in too.

At seventeen, one of the girls stole my money to run away with a man.

When I caught her, she sobbed, “Xiaoqiao, cut off my hand!”

That night, blood covered the floor.

At twenty, I had saved enough to buy my freedom.

I gave every last coin to Lü Buyu.

We had been lovers for six months, and he had promised to take me away.

Instead, he used the money to redeem Qingyue, who had only just arrived.

He knelt before me.

“Xiaoqiao, she’s so pitiful.

I can’t watch her sink into this mire.”

“Or you could just kill me.”

I was the capital’s famous sickly beauty.

When I married into the marquis’s household, everyone was betting on how long I would live.

Everyone knew the young lord had a beloved concubine.

He married me because I would die soon and stay out of her way.

In the bridal chamber, he watched without a flicker of concern as his concubine kicked over my medicine bowl.

“She won’t live long anyway.

Don’t waste good things on her.”

What he didn’t know was this: that bowl had never held medicine to keep me alive.

It held the muscle-weakening powder my father had been dosing me with.

Without the medicine, I was perfectly well.

My mother was kicked to death by the horse of a nobleman from the capital. Everyone in the village warned me, “That nobleman only spared you because he thinks you’re a fool. Don’t even think about revenge.” After burying my mother, I went to the largest brothel in the capital to seek out my aunt. She wrapped an arm around me and said, “Good girl. We’ll kill him and make him pay for your mother’s life.” “The legitimate son of the Capital Magistrate, huh? Let me think about how he ought to die.”

My mother was the finest embroiderer in the capital.

Even the emperor praised the wedding gown she made for the Princess Royal.

The princess rewarded her lavishly.

That very night, she severed Mother’s hands with golden scissors.

“One gown like this in the world, for me alone, is quite enough.”

Mother’s blood covered the floor.

The princess found it filthy, so she burned our entire residence to the ground, saying the blaze was festive enough to suit her.

On her wedding day, the princess became the most beautiful bride in the capital.

That same year, she became pregnant.

I entered her residence carrying the golden scissors that had killed my mother.

“Your servant has come to offer Your Highness the most beautiful garment of all.”

After landing in a world of beastfolk, I felt an itch and gave it a scratch.

And then—!

I froze, looked down, and lifted my shirt in disbelief.

A second later, I let out a shriek and practically crawled to the hospital.

“Doctor, help!

Something weird is growing on me!”

The doctor booked me in to have it removed.

But that night, I dreamed of a little octopus with tears streaming down its face.

It held up a tentacle with a piece missing and wailed, “That’s my arm!

It ran off to cuddle you.

It doesn’t want me anymore!”

Hang on.

Who taught it to cuddle like that?

Gu Qingxue had already been chosen as the next crown princess.

Out in the wilderness, she stole Father’s horse, tossed down an ingot of silver, and called it payment.

The delay kept Father from bringing the midwife home in time.

Mother died in childbirth.

Father said he would seek justice for her.

Gu Qingxue treated him as a beggar and, in a fit of anger, kicked him in the chest.

It killed him.

On the day of Father’s funeral, Gu Qingxue married, becoming the most exalted crown princess in the land.

Later, a new dancing girl arrived at the Eastern Palace.