Chapter 1

Before Father left to sit the examinations, he swore he would return triumphant. He came back empty-handed instead, save for the woman at his side.

“This is Xingdi,” he told Mother. “I was afraid you had no capable help, so I bought you a quanzao.”

Xingdi had generous hips and breasts and skin as smooth as cream. She entered, kowtowed to the mistress of the house, and smiled, revealing a pair of little tiger teeth.

Mother could not smile back.

Quanzao maids were common in modest households in the capital. By day they cooked for the mistress; by night they warmed the master’s bed.

One of the servants even related in detail how Xingdi had ensnared Father. She had belonged to Father’s landlord. After offending the lady of that house, she was to be sold, so she shamelessly climbed into Father’s bed.

“The master never meant to bring her home. Who knows what tricks she used, but she got him so besotted he couldn’t let her go. That woman knows every trick in the book. Had lovers everywhere, too. Tsk, tsk.”

Hearing what a disreputable creature Xingdi was only hurt Mother more. “If you wanted a concubine, you might at least have chosen a respectable woman. Or at the very least, waited until I was out of confinement…”

Father’s face darkened. “If you hadn’t given birth to a worthless girl, would I need to spend money on a concubine?”

I was eighteen days old then. Mother had nearly died giving birth to me.

Father knew. He simply did not care. He could barely be bothered to look at either of us, and somehow even blamed women for his own lust.

Mother fled home to her parents in tears.

We lived in a large town outside the capital. Father was a local licentiate, while my maternal grandfather was a provincial graduate.

That was why Mother had been given a proper name: Xu Tingyu.

By rights, Grandfather’s rank ought to have kept Father in check.

But the moment he saw Mother, his expression changed. “Why have you come alone? Did you do something wrong and get yourself repudiated by my son-in-law?”

Mother’s arms tightened around me as she quietly told him what had happened.

Grandfather grew more displeased still. “It is only proper for a man to have three wives and four concubines. It is a woman’s duty to be virtuous and gentle. When did I ever teach you jealousy? Enough! I shall invite my son-in-law to dinner tonight. You will pour his wine and apologize, and that will be the end of it.”

That evening, Grandfather did exactly as he had promised. He held a banquet for Father and forced Mother to pour his wine and beg forgiveness.

Father went around praising Grandfather for raising his daughter well. When the town’s scholars heard the tale, they celebrated it as exemplary conduct. Someone even proposed recording it in the county gazette so that it might be admired for a thousand years.

Mother had no wish to become a legend. She returned to her husband’s house in a daze, lay down, and did not rise again.

She had fallen ill.

At the time, our household had only two little maids of about ten. Neither could be relied upon. At first Mother’s illness frightened them; soon they were delighted by the leisure it afforded them. They could not even watch the fire under her medicine, much less care for a hungry infant.

I screamed until Xingdi came running.

She seized the two maids where they were dozing by the medicine stove and beat them without a word of warning.

At first they fought back, necks stiff as they cursed her. “We may all be slaves, but we came from decent families. You’re a whore, so don’t think—”

Xingdi did not bother arguing. She sat on their heads and swung her rolling pin until it whistled, beating them till they howled for their parents.

When Mother woke, she was astonished to find the meal cooked and the medicine ready. Xingdi sat beside my cradle, feeding me warm cow’s milk and grinning at her.

“Madam is far too softhearted. Beat those two little wretches once and suddenly they know how to do everything.”

Mother had never met such a ferocious woman. Worse, she still despised Xingdi for her shamelessness and had no idea what to say.

Her illness dried up her milk, however, and I could not live on cow’s milk forever. She asked Father to hire a wet nurse.

Father wanted nothing to do with household affairs, so Mother summoned a broker herself. Then she stared helplessly at the three women brought for her inspection. She was a sheltered young wife and knew nothing about choosing among them.

Fortunately, Xingdi came again.

Ignoring the broker’s chatter, she made each woman express a bowl of milk, then simmered the three bowls over water for half an hour. When she took them out, two held white curds floating in yellowish liquid. Only one had settled into a thick layer.

“We’ll take this one. She’ll make our little miss sturdy.” Xingdi turned and haggled so ruthlessly that the broker was left speechless. In the end, she secured the best wet nurse for an excellent price, and I grew plump and rosy.

At last Mother thanked Xingdi over and over, then asked how she knew so much.

Xingdi lowered her voice. At fifteen, she said, she had given birth to a son. Sadly, he had not lived.

“When I look at the eldest young mistress, it is like seeing my boy again.” She stroked my tiny hand, her eyes reddening.

Mother gave a soft cry and found no words.

A maid like Xingdi was not considered a person. Whether she had borne a child or not, her owners could sell her whenever they pleased.

The Dragon Boat Festival happened to be near, and Grandfather sent Mother two bolts of fine cotton silk. She chose several feet of the brightest cloth and took it to Xingdi.

The moment she entered the kitchen, she stopped short. “You sleep here?”