Short story

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.

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.

The moment my daughter was born, Old Madam Lu of the Yongchang Marquis Estate took her away.

There was only one reason: I was once the most celebrated courtesan in Yongning, and the kept mistress of the marquis’s heir.

A filthy, lowborn prostitute like me had no right to raise the estate’s precious young lady.

Not even when I was the one who had given birth to her.

Just as I was confessing my feelings to Lu Qinian, I suddenly learned that he was the male lead of a novel—and I was not the heroine.

I snapped on the spot, my face twisting as I yanked the love letter out of his hand.

“How could a bookish girl like me dare touch a shameless flirt like you?”

“Goodbye.”

Lu Qinian stared at me in confusion.

Later, Lu Qinian pinned me in his arms and kissed me senseless.

Between ragged breaths, he gave a cold laugh.

“I went to all that trouble seducing you, and you called me shameless?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

The year I turned eight, I was trampled to death beneath the Crown Prince’s horse.

His guards paid my parents one tael of silver to make the matter go away.

My parents did not even retrieve my body; they took the money with ingratiating smiles and said, “For our daughter to die beneath His Highness’s horse is a blessing she could never have hoped for.”

Before my first seven days of mourning were over, Father divorced Mother and took another wife.

Mother remarried with every appearance of joy.

It seemed they had forgotten me.

Later, just as I was about to be reincarnated, Father and Mother dragged the Crown Prince to my grave and made him pay for my death with his own.

Fu Yanxiu’s younger sister was still growing, his mother lay half-paralyzed on the kang, and he still had to study for the imperial examinations.

For all seven years of our engagement, I worked his family’s fields.

The day he passed the provincial examination, Fu Yanxiu came to break off our engagement, his face grim.

“Sui Zhu, the capital isn’t a place for someone like you,” he said.

I transmigrated into a cultivation novel as its vicious supporting woman.

The system told me that if I kept courting death, I could die and go home once my true colors were exposed.

So I devoted myself to making trouble for the heroine.

I seduced the senior brother she loved, poisoned her medicine, and deliberately injured myself in a secret realm so I could accuse her of attacking me…

At last, the day of judgment arrived.

Senior Brother produced the evidence and tore away my hypocritical mask.

The elders sentenced me to endure forty-nine bolts of heavenly lightning, have my immortal bones stripped away, and be cast down as a mortal.

I was overjoyed. My exit scene had finally come.

Then I heard the heroine say, “Senior Sister didn’t mean it.”

I whipped around in shock.

Her cheeks were faintly pink, almost as if she were shy.

“Senior Sister only did all that because she loves me too much.”

“It was her way of testing me.”

My youngest sister had been flirting with three men.

Unfortunately, she had used my name and our middle sister’s.

All three came to ask for her hand.

To smooth things over, our parents suggested that we each marry one of them.

My other sister wavered.

I refused.

There was nothing wrong with me.

Why should I marry a man who had loved my sister?

Didn’t I deserve a love untainted by all this?

I looked up at my youngest sister, who kept avoiding my eyes, and said evenly: “First, tell me exactly what happened between you and those three men.”

After my simple-minded younger sister’s engagement was broken, she threw herself against a stone pillar. But I knew that someone from another world would come and live in her place.

She would become the heroine of this world, dazzling everyone and winning fame beneath the heavens.

I, meanwhile, would lose my beloved to her, see my reputation for talent destroyed, and end as a bitter, hateful woman brought to a wretched ruin.

She was the triumphant transmigrated heroine of an old-fashioned romance novel.

I was its vicious supporting woman.

But I refused to accept that fate.

This time, I wiped the blood from her brow, stood between her and the crowd, and became the first warmth she felt in this strange world.

In a year of famine, I sold myself to a brothel for the sake of my family.

My little sister came to see me with dried melons and vegetables on her back.

One patron had a taste for very young girls, and the madam tried to tempt her.

My sister believed every word and refused to leave: she wanted silk every day and fish and meat at every meal.

I said no, took out the silver I had secretly saved, and asked a man from our village to escort her home.

After that, not a single letter came from my family.

Five years later, when my beauty had begun to fade, I persuaded a cloth merchant to redeem me and make me stepmother to his two children.

Then my sister returned.

We looked seven or eight parts alike, but she was alluring and uninhibited, far more so than my dull, quiet self; within three days of raising her banner, men crowded the door.

The cloth merchant hired a sedan chair to collect me, and my sister crooked one beguiling finger at him.

He hesitated for only a moment before laying the silver meant for my freedom at her feet.