On my last night in the palace, Xiao Zhao got drunk and took me to bed.
The next morning, I slipped a palace maid into his bed to take my place.
Four years later, a little girl held my husband’s hand and called him Uncle in her sweet little voice.
His eyes reddened.
“Ah Jie, how can she call me Uncle?”
he asked, aggrieved.
I smiled.
“But she really is my husband’s daughter.
What else should she call you?”