Chapter 8
Shen Jingtan sat in the place of honor in Autumn Paulownia Court, blood draining from a face that resembled mine by three parts. The concubines whispered that perhaps the wife looked like the courtesan.
Jingtan gripped her chair. “A whore who serves men with beauty dares compare herself to me?”
I stroked my cheek. “I use my own face and my own skill. Some noble ladies enter this house by borrowing a courtesan’s advantage.”
She shouted that I survived by selling flesh and would lose Yunqi’s favor soon.
“To be arrogant from favor, one must have favor,” I replied. “A newlywed whose husband has not entered her court for a month must suffer. We both serve him with flesh. You were merely born into the Shen family and sold for a higher price. Why are you nobler?”
Enraged, she ordered her women to tear my mouth. I slapped the wet nurse first. A proper slap uses the wrist, then hooks with the nails. Blood poured between the woman’s fingers. I flicked bloody skin from my nails onto Jingtan’s jade skirt and smiled. “Returning what belongs to you. No thanks needed.”
After I left, Jingtan smashed half her court and waited in the cold to complain to Yunqi. A gatekeeper, rewarded with gold seeds, told me Yunqi scolded her and warned her away from me. She must have thought it unfair, but love was never fair.
Many servants reported to me. Even Old Jiang, who carried night soil, received two gold seeds. Jingtan scorned such low people; when gatekeeper Cao tried to flatter her, she mocked his poverty with her maids. He bowed but hated her. Better offend a gentleman than a petty man. Dingyuan Manor had six true masters, while the despised lowborn grew everywhere like weeds and knew more than their owners. Gold scattered today would someday bear surprising fruit.
That night Yunqi warned me not to provoke his nominal wife or make others laugh at disorder in his household. When I remained silent, he narrowed his eyes and gripped my chin.
The memory of his whip chilled me. My splendor rested entirely on conditional favor. Within his limits, insolence was charming; beyond them, it became reckless trouble. He cherished me as a toy.
I looped my arms around his neck, offering the half-pouting smile he loved. “Very well. I will not start anything with her.”