Familial Love

I was my birth parents’ third child.

While my birth mother was pregnant with me, the village fortune-teller swore I would be a boy.

They could hardly wait.

They hid from place to place throughout the pregnancy and finally brought me into the world in the bitter cold of the twelfth lunar month—

a girl.

My elder brother tried to put his concubine above his wife.

Father beat him so badly he could not get out of bed.

My sister-in-law’s family standing was a little lower than ours, but in character, looks, judgment, and household management, she was second to none.

If no one stood up for her, we would never hear the end of it.

Later, I married, and my husband made my life difficult.

My sister-in-law came to fetch me with a chest of gold and silver jewelry.

She told my husband: “Divorce her.

There are plenty of noble young men in Jiangzhou eager to marry my sister.

You, however, may have a harder time finding anyone who wants you.”

When seven-year-old Linzhi watches her licentiate father bring home Xingdi, a disgraced quanzao maid meant to cook by day and warm his bed at night, she sees two very different women discover that obedience will never protect them.

After lust, cruelty, and a child’s preventable death bind Xu Tingyu, Xingdi, and Linzhi together, they turn the rules of a patriarchal household against the man who owns their lives—and set an exquisitely patient revenge in motion.

But killing one tyrant cannot free women from a world built to strip them of property, names, and futures, so mother, aunt, and daughter must risk everything to claim a life their laws refuse to grant them.

Ever since I was little, Mother had told me that the Marchioness was a broad, hulking shrew with the heart of a viper.

Anyone who offended her, she said, would be beaten half to death and locked in a dark room to perish.

Yet on the day we were brought to the marquis’s estate, the woman seated at the head of the main hall looked like a celestial maiden.

Mother sprang forward and hoisted her out of the chair.

“Sitting in the Marchioness’s place? Have you got a death wish?”

After the college entrance exams, my brother and I got thrown out by our parents.

“I’ve put up with you two long enough.

Go stay with your uncle!”

Uncle was lovely.

He let us run wild in his mansion, though he did seem a little dead inside.

We thought we’d driven him to it.

Then we discovered he was heartbroken: the woman he’d adored for years had chosen someone else.

Looking at our mature, wealthy uncle, with his impossibly perfect looks and that vulnerable older-man appeal, my brother and I couldn’t understand what the other guy had on him.

“Uncle, want to take his place?”

Ren Suixi sells herself into a wife-leasing contract to save her wounded husband, only to be claimed months later as the chancellor’s long-lost daughter.

Her return pulls her into a web of family devotion, imperial cruelty, war, and sacrifices made by men and women with nowhere else to turn.

As dynasties and households collapse around her, Suixi must decide what home, kinship, and a life of her own truly mean.

Yu Taozi has seen mysterious comments floating before her eyes since childhood, but only after learning to read does she discover the truth: her world is a romance novel, and she is the greedy country-bred villainess destined to be expelled for making the heroine cry.

When the rich male lead offers to keep her for one hundred thousand yuan a month, Taozi refuses to follow the script.

She rolls on the floor, demands justice, and turns every dramatic confrontation into a lesson in rural common sense.

Soon the heroine calls her an idol, the genius second lead begs to learn her farm skills, and the arrogant male lead is digging fields and getting rammed by pigs.

Taozi wants none of their romance.

She only wants to study hard, make her grandmother proud, and get into a good university.

But by derailing the plot, this simple country girl may give all of them a happier story.

On the day Mother was buried, Father gave me three copper coins.

He sent me all the way to West Street for candied hawthorns, but when I returned, he was gone.

Two days later, I found him at the lantern festival with a beautiful lady and another little girl in his arms.

The candied hawthorns he claimed to want were still wrapped in my hand.

Rather than waste them, I offered them to a pale, handsome prince who refused to drink his bitter medicine.

That small gift changed both our lives—and gave two abandoned hearts a home.

I was born without knowing how to cry, and I did not learn to walk until I was two.

My cousin, who was my age, could already recite poems while I was still stumbling over my first words.

Before the college entrance examination, everyone in the village called me the half-wit.

Afterward, the village received its first university acceptance letter.

My aunt was beside herself with joy.

She held a three-day feast, and everyone for miles around knew my cousin had got into university.

Then the villagers clamored to see the letter.

Only then did they discover that the name on the gold-stamped page was mine.

I grew up without a father or a mother.

When the widow at the east end of the village lost her son, I ran over and asked if she wanted to be my mother.

When I saw how strong the rough woodsman at the west end was, I asked if he wanted to be my father.

That was how the three of us pieced together a family.