The year I came of age, Father gave me three marriage choices.
I could become the lawful wife of a penniless scholar, the honored concubine of the Marquis of Pingnan’s heir, or the second wife of a wealthy merchant.
I wanted none of them.
Marriage negotiations always came down to the woman’s family, and my father held a modest post while I was merely a concubine-born daughter, so no truly eminent house would consider me.
Still, low birth had never cured me of high ambition.
If I could not marry up, I would sooner hang myself.