The day I decided to divorce Pei Qingshu was an ordinary one.
Only the night before, he had promised that he would send Miss Liu away the next day, then celebrate my birthday properly with me.
It finally seemed as though our life was about to get better.
Delighted, I rose early, opened my dressing case, and carefully drew my brows while looking into a copper basin.
Then I dug an old pomegranate-red skirt out from the bottom of the camphorwood chest.
After seven years of marriage, I did not own a single decent piece of jewelry.
Seeing my bare ears, I pinched off a balsam blossom and tucked it behind my bun.
On my way out to buy vegetables, I ran into Chunxiang’s mother, who caught my arm with a teasing smile.
“I saw Master Pei buy two hairpins the other day—one gold, one jade. Let me see which one you’re wearing.”
Then she noticed the balsam flower in my hair and froze.
