Divorce

After my mother got divorced, she became the fiercest woman in the village.

She often cursed at me, “If I didn’t have you dragging me down, I would’ve remarried some rich man long ago.”

Behind her back, the villagers gossiped, “She can’t get anyone to marry her, so she uses her daughter as an excuse.”

My father mocked her even more. “With your mother’s firecracker temper, and since she can’t even give birth to a son, the only man who’d want her is one with four sons who can’t find wives.”

Later, a small business owner really did want to marry my mother.

Then my father regretted it. “Yufen, let’s get married again. The three of us can live a proper life together.”

Chapter 0

I am the mistress of the Marquis’s Manor, serene and detached as a chrysanthemum.

Aside from me, there are two favored concubines in the household.

As the main wife, my daily duties include chanting sutras in the ancestral hall and mediating the disputes between those two concubines. Among them:

The second, Jiaoniang, was born a courtesan, with a naturally seductive air.

The third, Wenniang, is a sweet girl from a modest family, gentle and understanding.

As for my husband, Marquis Wenchang Gu Jinyan, he is accustomed to sleeping with the second and sharing his heart with the third.

With me, however, things are so tepid we may as well be brother and sister.

After we made love that night, I drifted off to sleep.

My husband, who never liked saying sweet words, suddenly said: “Honey, I love you.”

I opened my eyes.

That tone was all too familiar.

It was exactly the tone he used when he’d done something guilty.

I found a chat log on Sheng Jing’s phone.

He had sent his female assistant a video of me helping Jiu Jiu with her homework and losing my temper.

“This is why I’d rather work overtime at the office than come home.”

The young assistant replied with a “poor you, sending hugs” sticker. “Manager Sheng, you have it so hard.

Work is exhausting enough, and then you have to deal with all that when you get home.”

I waited bitterly for Qu Huang for three years, only to receive a letter of divorce.

When the message arrived, I was still wiping down his bedridden mother.

It was March, and the late spring cold had returned, yet I was drenched in sweat from exhaustion.

My hands shook so badly I could barely take the thin silk letter the attendant handed me.

“Where is my husband?”

“The young master has already arrived in the front hall.”

I sighed, set down the damp towel in my hand, and smoothed back the stray hair at my temples.

“Very well. I’ll go with you.”

On our wedding night, my husband told me something plainly.

His heart belonged to Concubine Song, and there could never be anything between him and me.

I was not to use my position as the lady of the household to make Concubine Song’s life difficult.

Furious, I tore off my bridal veil and gave him two choices.

Either we went to his parents together and asked what exactly they meant by arranging this marriage.

Or he brought Concubine Song to me so the three of us could settle matters face-to-face.

He feared I would bully his beloved concubine, while I feared she would use his favor to humiliate his lawful wife.

After a brief hesitation, my husband chose to summon her.

The three of us sat down and agreed on three rules.

First, Concubine Song was never to set foot in my main courtyard, and anything that happened if she did would be her own responsibility; the same rule applied to me.

Second, since my husband refused to consummate our marriage that night, we would never share a bed for the rest of our lives.

Third, if his parents pressed us for an heir, he would deal with them, and if I suffered punishment or loss because of it, he would compensate me.

My husband’s face turned glacial as he signed the agreement in a fury.

From that day on, he never entered my room again.

Concubine Song basked in her victory and laughed at me for giving up the finest man in the world.

The two of them settled into their sweet little romance.

I was too busy building a life of my own to spare them a thought.

But three years later, my husband stepped into my courtyard with an uneasy look on his face.

I knew at once that he regretted everything-and that he wanted to sleep with me.

I said calmly, “Let’s divorce.”

“Miaoren, this beauty mark of yours is truly lovely.”

Xuan Changjun lifted my bridal veil. By the light of a small lamp, he reached out and gently brushed the tiny mark at the corner of my eye.

I smiled at him. “Husband, is this beauty mark the only lovely thing about me?”

He did not answer. Instead, he said, “Xuan’er has a beauty mark just like it. It makes her look especially lively.”

I nodded and told him, “Wait a moment.”

Turning around, I fetched paper, brush, and ink from the writing desk and spread them out before him. “Go on. Write it.”

He looked up at me. “Write what?”

I straightened the tinkling jeweled flower in my hair and said unhurriedly, “A divorce letter.”

Xuan Changjun chuckled softly. “Miaoren, there are seven grounds upon which a man may divorce his wife. You have committed none of them, so how could I write such a letter?”

“Oh?” I lazily propped my chin on one hand while scraping the lid of my teacup with the other. “And what are these seven grounds?”

“A wife may be cast out for seven reasons: disobedience to her parents-in-law, childlessness, adultery, jealousy, serious illness, excessive talkativeness, or theft.”

I nodded, rose to my feet, and stood across from him.

“Go fuck yourself!”

I kicked him over. He toppled backward onto the bed and sank into the red silk wedding quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks.

“Y-you… Miaoren! You, you…” Struggling upright, he clutched his chest and stared at me in shock.

Taking up the brush, I neatly drafted the divorce letter for him:

There is now a wicked woman in this household. She is unfilial to her parents-in-law, disobedient to her husband, and disrespectful to her elder brother- and sister-in-law. She is therefore cast out.

“All you need to do is press your thumbprint onto it,” I said. “Otherwise, I’ll turn the entire Xuan Family upside down. Today I kicked you over. Tomorrow, I’ll dare to beat your father, curse your mother, ruin your family’s reputation, and squander your fortune. Changjun, you should simply accept your fate.”

“Miaoren, why are you doing this?” Xuan Changjun had been a scholar before entering officialdom, so he did not panic when trouble arose. Once he had caught his breath, he said, “I only married you because you liked me.”

“Oh, Changjun, that may be the most absurd joke under heaven!” I clapped my hands, sat down in the armchair, and lowered my head to peel a grape. “Do you know who I am? I am the Grand Tutor, an official of the first rank. Even His Majesty must courteously address me as his teacher. And what are you? A newly crowned Literary Champion. What official rank can you even expect to receive? I lowered myself to marry beneath my station, yet you somehow have the nerve to claim I married you because I liked you?”

Xuan Changjun’s face alternated between red and white. After a long silence, he finally managed to say, “Since we are both scholars, you should not use your official rank to lord it over others.”

“You’re a scholar, my ass. You’re clearly a lecherous creep pretending to be some charming libertine. What a joke!” I sneered, then continued, “I’ll tell you the truth. I chose you reluctantly because I thought you were devoted and faithful, which would spare me plenty of jealous squabbles in the future. If I’d known that a beast like you was lusting after his own younger sister, I would have refused even if the emperor himself arranged the marriage. I’d have gone and beaten the emperor too!”

“You… Miaoren!”

“What? Did I say anything wrong? I’d long heard that your younger sister Changxuan looked seventy percent like me-even the beauty mark at the corner of her eye was identical to mine. I didn’t believe it at first, but after seeing her in person, I realized she truly does resemble me.”

“How could you say Xuan’er resembles you? You’re clearly the one who resembles Xuan’er!” His face flushed red with agitation.

“Say whatever you like. The divorce letter is right here. Hurry up and press your thumbprint onto it. I’ll return to my residence at once, and from this day forward, we’ll each go our separate ways.” I gave the flimsy sheet of paper a shake. “Hurry. You’re a grown man, so why are you being so indecisive?”

Even as I was leaving, he still called me Miaoren.

I told him, “Lord Xuan, I happen to love throwing my rank around. You’d better address me as Grand Tutor Yu.”

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.

I stayed beside Xie Chen from the days when he had nothing until he became a wealthy man, only to discover his affair seven days before our wedding.

He expected me to forgive him, protect his company, and leave our marriage with nothing, but I had built his success with my own hands and knew exactly how to take my life back.

While his first love fought to become Mrs. Xie, I divorced him, sold my shares at a premium, and founded a company of my own.

By the time their so-called true love collapsed under greed, debt, and betrayal, I had already learned that the best time to call off a bad marriage is the moment you see it clearly.

During the year our love was at its peak, the young general whose name shook the borderlands used all his military merit to petition my Imperial Father for my hand in marriage.

But three years later, a woman arrived at our door clutching a child, weeping and begging me to take them in.

My husband claimed he had simply had too much to drink and made a terrible mistake.

My mother-in-law said that since I had already ruined my husband’s career prospects, I could not go so far as to sever his bloodline as well.

My closest kin advised me to be magnanimous, telling me that this was simply how every mistress of a household in the capital lived.

Only my sister, with whom I had never seen eye to eye, patted my back and told me: “In the past, you let your Imperial Brother make your decisions for you.” “Later, you let your husband make your decisions for you.” “Now, it is time you learned to grow up on your own.” “After all, you have a little girl of your own now.”

I looked down at the tiny daughter in my arms, who was still sucking on her fingers.

I understood that if I were weak, my daughter would never know how to be strong.

If I were easily bullied, my daughter would never know how to be independent. This time, it was my turn to act.