Ancient China

The night I married Pei Guanli, I cried so hard I soaked half my bridal veil.

Not because I didn’t want to marry him, but because everyone in the capital knew that Pei Guanli was more upright and proper than the ancestral tablets in a shrine.

He oversaw ceremonial protocols at the Ministry of Rites and revised the dynasty’s statutes and rites.

If a family used the wrong ritual vessels at a wedding, he could remember it for three years.

If someone wailed one time too many at a funeral, he could submit a memorial impeaching them straight to the emperor.

As the daughter of a merchant family from Jiangnan, this was exactly the sort of man I feared most.

Before my mother sent me into the bridal sedan, she clutched my hands and cried even harder than I did.

“Ah Ning, once you reach the Pei Family, speak less, smile less, and eat less.”

I asked, “Why eat less?”

Choking back sobs, my mother said, “Noble young ladies in the capital eat as delicately as if they’re painting flowers. You eat three bowls in one sitting. You’ll give yourself away too easily.”

I paused, suddenly feeling that before this marriage had even reached the bridal chamber, I had already lost on appetite alone.

I was the legitimate daughter of an illustrious clan, mild by nature and untouched by worldly desire, and I should have become the sacred monk’s disciple at the imperial temple, spending my life before an ancient Buddha and a solitary lamp.

For the sake of prestige, however, my parents insisted on marrying me to the eldest son of a ducal household—a well-matched libertine notorious for his debauchery.

Before I left, the monk heaved a long sigh and gave me a fragment of the Buddha’s bone, warning me to wear it at all times and never let it leave my body.

After I entered the Zhu household, my husband first brought home a concubine, then took a proper wife, but I did not mind, and my husband’s aunt praised me for knowing my place.

When my husband molested a colleague’s female relative and the Censorate denounced him, I did not mind, and my husband’s aunt praised my sweet temper.

My sister-in-law kept control of the household accounts, claiming that someone as pure as I was should never sully herself with the stink of money.

My mother-in-law demanded that I wait upon her morning and night and handle every task myself, so that I might become a model noblewoman.

At an imperial banquet, the Grand Empress Dowager took a fancy to the Buddha’s bone at my breast and demanded it for herself.

My mother-in-law hurried to tear it from my neck and offered it up with both hands, fawning shamelessly.

At last, I smiled in deliverance.

Twenty years, you damned bald donkey—let us see how you plan to keep the evil inside me chained now.

Everyone in the capital knows that every beauty who disappears into Minister Luo’s rear courtyard carries him one step higher in office.

Born mute—or so the household believes—his ninth daughter survives by making herself small and useful to the family’s favored eldest daughter.

As sisters are sold, married, and sacrificed for the ambitions of men, Ah Jiu realizes that obedience will never buy her freedom.

To escape the Luo estate alive, she must wager the one thing society says determines a woman’s future: her face.

After I died, my bones became the sword in his hand.

Little did he know that I rarely exercised while I was alive, and I’d developed osteoporosis at a young age.

The sword forged from my bones was sharp enough, but it lacked resilience.

The very first time he used me, someone lopped off his head.

Both my younger half-sister and I were bound to a Palace Struggle Points Shop.

She used hers to exchange for peerless beauty, a captivating singing voice, and extraordinary dancing skills.

I, on the other hand, exchanged mine for the loyalty of generals, the allegiance of virtuous scholars, and the submission of merchant guilds.

Later, my sister became the Noble Consort, enjoying unrivaled favor. She came to my palace to flaunt her power, saying, “Sister, your palace is truly desolate. I’m afraid His Majesty the Emperor has already forgotten you ever existed.”

I offered a faint smile. “The less His Majesty the Emperor remembers me, the better.”

That way, my intention to replace him would not be exposed too soon.

I was the adopted daughter of the most beautiful widow in Jiangcheng.

When I was twelve, the Yellow River burst its banks and Jiangcheng was swallowed by the flood.

As we fled, the beautiful widow fell gravely ill.

Before she died, she clutched my hand and, after a long hesitation, told me to go to the capital and find her lover once she was gone.

I followed the refugees for half a month.

At last, in Prince Hongyang’s Manor, I met Prince Hongyang-a man who looked half like me.

A year after I married Xie Yunye, he met with danger at the border and was saved by a passing female physician.

To repay her for saving his life, he brought her back to the manor and took her in as his sworn sister.

Gu Qinghan never married after that. She practiced medicine all her life, healing the sick and earning the people’s deep respect.

Later, when Xie Yunye was poisoned, she tested medicines day and night. In the end, the accumulated poison took her life.

And I became the Old Madam of the Marquis Manor for fifty years.

My son was afraid I would be hurt, so he never let me enter the ancestral hall.

Only when I was on my deathbed and wanted to offer Xie Yunye one last stick of incense did I discover that a memorial tablet had appeared in the hall. On it were the words: Wife of Xie Yunye, Gu Qinghan.

My son sighed helplessly. “Mother, Father said before he died that only after meeting Aunt Gu did he understand who his true love was. Sadly, Aunt Gu was too proud to become a concubine, so he promised her burial beside him as his lawful wife.”

“Mother, it is only a title. Once a person dies, everything is empty. Please let Aunt Gu have it.”

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Xie Yunye brought Gu Qinghan home.

“Rong Yu, Qinghan has no father or mother. I want to take her in as my sworn sister. You…”

My expression was indifferent. “As you wish, my lord.”

My young mistress was a transmigrator.

She declared arranged marriage unacceptable and ruined the match between me and the childhood sweetheart I had hoped to marry.

Then she insisted that women should not be trapped inside the home and forced me to enlist with her.

We became separated from our unit and stranded in a vast desert without water.

I risked my life to obtain two barrels of water from desert bandits and repeatedly warned her to ration it.

While I slept, she used every drop to wash her hair and bathe.

I died of thirst, while she emerged spotless and was rescued by the passing Crown Prince.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day she first tried to persuade me to enlist.

In the Fifth Year of Taiyuan, at the Start of Summer, a princess died in the Beiliang Royal Palace.

And a toad.

Anping was that unfortunate princess.

And I was that unfortunate toad.

Fortunately, since her death, I have become her.

I am the most ill-fated princess in history.

Widowed young, my homeland was invaded, I was carried off to a foreign land, and after suffering endless humiliation, I died at the age of twenty.

When I woke up, I thanked heaven it had only been a dream.

But then my maid told me that Father Emperor had betrothed me to the doomed Cheng Su.

In an instant, dream and reality overlapped…

Thinking of Cheng Su’s beautiful face, I steeled myself and made my decision.

“Tell Father Emperor I refuse this marriage!”