Slice of Life

I’m obsessed with my big sister.

I’ve spent twenty years as her devoted servant, practically born into the job.

Nobody knows how to take care of her better than I do, and I’m immensely proud of that.

So when I learned she was going to marry Jiang Xubai, I promptly made a move on his little brother, Jiang Muye.

Dad exploded on the spot and threatened to break my legs.

I protested, “If my sister can marry into their family, why can’t I?”

Dad answered with a sweeping slap: “Because your sister is a girl, and you—are a boy!”

I came second in the imperial examinations.

The first-place winner was the sort of swaggering hero who conquered everything in his path.

He spent his days drinking, writing poetry, and visiting brothels.

The third-place winner was the hero of an erotic novel.

He spent his days sleeping with princes and generals.

Once I became a censor, I worked overtime every day impeaching the two of them, until my face turned sallow and my eyes were ringed with blue.

Then I checked my pay at the end of the month: ten taels of silver.

Furious, I threw down my memorials, picked up my brush, and started a side business: Episode One: “The Third-Place Scholar Charms in Women’s Clothes; the First-Place Scholar Spends a Fortune for His Smile.”

On the day the divorce was finalized, I booked a high-speed rail ticket back to my hometown. A phone, an ID card, and a bank card with a meager balance were all I had left.

When the butler called to say the young master was crying for his mother, I finally understood that the son I had borne and his father loved the same woman.

Before the train left, I made one last promise: I would never disturb him again.

When my mother married Wang the Mute, she was already carrying me.

Everyone in the neighborhood had advice for him.

Some told him to get rid of the bastard with a strong dose of medicine.

Others told him to write a divorce letter and throw my mother out.

Wang only smiled, turned around, and sent for the best midwife for miles.

Then I was born.

My Miss is a traditional lady of the old school; the rules are etched into her very bones.

On their wedding night, the Chen Family Young Master, disdainful that she wasn’t a “modern woman,” didn’t even lift her bridal veil before climbing over the wall and running away.

Her parents-in-law, fearing she might do something drastic, sent people to stand guard outside her door all night.

But the next morning…

Miss appeared properly dressed and groomed, kneeling respectfully to serve tea to her parents-in-law. “Since I have entered the gates of the Chen Family, it is only right that I serve my elders.”

Three years later.

The Chen Family Young Master returned, bringing with him a woman dressed in a Western-style skirt and high heels.

Standing side-by-side in the center of the main hall, they declared that arranged marriages were a relic of the old feudal system and demanded a divorce from Miss.

In the silence that filled the hall, no one could bear to look at Miss’s face.

Only I saw-

As Miss lowered her gaze…

Very slowly, ever so slowly…

The corners of her lips curled into a faint smile.

I won my husband, Yang Dongye, with thirty wontons.

His family had fallen on hard times, and I was a notorious old maid: plain, fiery-tempered, and perfectly capable of keeping a household standing.

He wanted someone capable; I wanted someone young and handsome.

After several happy years, his family was exonerated—and his former fiancée came running from the capital.

After my sister passed away, Jiang Huaizhou treated me like her substitute.

He married me, yet he despised me.

Outside our marriage, he kept one lover after another.

He even mocked me, saying, “Even with Weiwei dead, you will never compare to her.”

He belittled me until I was worth less than nothing.

But then I remembered that there had once been someone who said to me:

“Yinyin, no one else matters. You matter most.”

Today was the Qixi Festival, and the campus forum thread “How Are You Spending Today?” shot straight to the top of the discussion rankings.

The comments underneath were pure chaos.

On a sudden whim, I left one too.

“In Xie Yi’s arms.”

Then Xie Yi-the famously abstinent, untouchable teacher-replied to me.

“You said you’d be in my arms. Where are you?”

Me: ! ? ?

When I was on the verge of death, Cheng An borrowed one tael of silver and bought me to be his wife.

He was so poor he could barely feed himself, yet he bought medicine on credit and saved my life.

Later, I told him, “If you don’t despise me for having once served as another man’s concubine, I am willing to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Cheng An nodded firmly. “Then it’s settled. A lifetime.”

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.”