Chapter 2

Mother had another girl.

Years of malnutrition had left her without even a little milk this time.

My sister went a full day and night without a drop. She no longer had the strength to cry, only to lie on the bed whimpering like a kitten.

I curled up in a corner of the heated brick bed, my sleeping brothers and sisters beside me.

Father sat in the room sighing. I could not sleep.

At last I heard him murmur, “Drown her. We can’t keep her alive anyway.”

My heart lurched. I thought Mother would stop him.

Instead, as Father brought out the chamber pot, she dragged her weakened body over and put my tiny, kitten-like sister inside.

The baby was headfirst, her little legs kicking wildly. My parents sat beside her like wooden figures, watching.

A chill swept through me. Cold sweat poured down my back.

Finally I could bear it no longer. I got up, pulled my sister out of the chamber pot, and shook her until she spat out the filth in her mouth.

Then I put her on the bed and pretended I knew nothing. “Oh, little sister, why are you so naughty? Look what you’ve done—you fell into the chamber pot.”

My parents glanced at each other. Neither said a word.

I thought she had escaped.

When I woke the next morning and felt the empty space beside me, I knew something had happened.

I rushed out the door. Father was holding my sister by one leg. Her whole body was purple. He tossed her into a small pit dug in the backyard.

My youngest sister was dead after all.

Tears rose, but in the end I forced them back.

At last I understood. The lives of poor people like us seemed worth less than those of stray cats and dogs.

That winter was harder than any I could remember.

It had barely begun, and already we could scarcely fill the cooking pot.

The seven of us huddled around it in thin clothes, staring without blinking at the scant half-handful of rice Mother had just dropped in.

The water boiled. Grains of rice tumbled through the large pot, and soon their fragrance reached us.

My brothers and sisters drooled. So did I.

When the porridge was ready, Mother gave each of us a large bowl. There were barely a dozen grains in each, yet it tasted like the finest food in the world.

After we finished, Mother could not help wiping away tears. “That was the last food we had.”

Father shook his head and sighed. “I’ve asked everyone we could borrow from. Nobody has anything.”

Perhaps because the porridge was mostly water, I got up to urinate several times that night. Then hunger kept me awake.

I was about to climb out of bed and drink a ladleful of water to fill my stomach when I heard my parents discussing selling me and my ten-year-old sister.

“Second Girl has a fairer face than Eldest Girl,” Father said. “I’ve made inquiries. She’d fetch a bit of money at a brothel.”

“Eldest Girl isn’t as pretty, but she knows how to read people. We can send her to a rich household as a maid.”

“If we can manage both, we’ll have an easier life.”

Through the crack in the door, I saw Mother wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes. Then she nodded.

I knew that instead of starving while working day and night at home, I would be better off serving someone. At least I would get a full meal.

So I pretended I had heard nothing.

Father was certainly efficient.

Early the next morning, he made us change into clothes that were still reasonably presentable and took my sister and me out.

My sister went to a brothel for twenty strings of cash. I was sold as an ordinary maid. My new household would offer only eight strings.

Father hesitated, but he agreed.

An older woman led me inside, taught me a few rules, and sent me to the kitchens to tend the fires.

On the way there, a call of “Young Master!” caught my attention.

I saw a young man dressed in brocade, with a reasonably handsome face. My deadened heart began to race.

Perhaps my chance to change my fate had come…