Chapter 5

I was forever reminding myself not to do wrong.

So when Zhou Que’er drank every drop of the soup I had prepared for Zhu Jinyu, I merely smiled and asked, “Have you had enough? Would you like more?”

She belched, wiped her mouth on her sleeve, gathered her son back into her arms, and swaggered away.

I made do with cold rice and leftovers, then ordered the maid to clear the dishes. After washing my hands and lighting incense, I began to copy a Buddhist sutra.

It was for my mother-in-law.

After the southern migration, Buddhism had become fashionable among the literati. Translating sutras and dissecting Zen sayings were the newest pastimes of aristocratic households.

Even my father-in-law followed the fashion.

To please her husband, my mother-in-law required me to copy one Sanskrit sutra in gold ink every day.

Ordinarily, such a task was nothing. But that night, for some reason, my hand would not stop trembling.

The Sanskrit characters sprawled crooked and broken across the page, as though black vapor coiled around every stroke.

Sweat drenched me. I had to stop. When I raised a hand to wipe my brow, I caught the raw, bloody odor of meat still clinging to my palm despite the washing.

Then a gust of night wind blew open the window.

I looked up. A row of crows stood along the courtyard wall outside, beadlike eyes gleaming an unnatural red in the darkness.

When they met my gaze, their beaks parted as though they were smiling.

“Young Lord! Oh, Young Lord, you’re home now—please stop making trouble!”

A cluster of attendants carried Zhu Jinyu through the gate. The commotion startled the crows into flight.

I steadied myself, ordered them to bring him into the inner room, and sent a maid for hot water.

The attendants were still servants and dared not behave too freely before me. They only warned that the young lord was drunk and prone to nonsense, and begged me to be patient with him.

I dismissed them, then personally removed Zhu Jinyu’s boots, loosened his hair, and untangled his sash.

The libertine’s face was flushed. He reeked of wine and cheap perfume. Sprawled across the bed like mud, he clawed at his sweaty neck and chest and shouted, “Beauty! Take off one garment and I’ll give you… one tael of silver! Heh… take it off! Keep going! Let your lord—hic—feel those tender legs again…”

Even the young maid who brought the water turned away, mortified by his filth.

I sent her out. Then I wrung out a cloth and began to wipe him with patient care.

The moment I touched him, he yanked me into his arms and leered.

“Beauty… heh. Who are you?”

“Husband, I am Lingyun,” I answered softly. “The wife you married.”

“My wife?” Zhu Jinyu frowned. It seemed he had to search every corner of his mind before finding me. Then disgust twisted his face, and he shoved me away.

“Get out! You dull block of a woman. Who said you could touch me?”

Unprepared for the force, I fell and overturned the basin of warm water.

When the maid rushed in, I was sitting in the filthy puddle. My face and clothes were soaked; the ends of my hair and skirt trailed through the grime.

“Madam!”

She cried out and helped me up, then tried to fetch clean water and attend me. I stopped her.

Instead, I picked up the cloth swollen with dirty water. Without wringing it, I slapped it over Zhu Jinyu’s face and scrubbed back and forth.

I kept going until his entire face was black and foul, thin streams running into his wide nostrils and open mouth.

He woke from his stupor at once.

“Waaagh—ptoo! You filthy bitch, what are you doing?”

After retching, he roared the question at me.

Under the maid’s horrified stare, the corners of my lips rose into a meek smile.

“Helping you sober up, my lord husband.”