The day I was cast aside for jealousy, more than half the capital applauded.
My mother-in-law wept and complained that I controlled her son, forbidding him from drinking and from taking concubines, making him the laughingstock of the city as a henpecked husband.
What no one knew was that my husband, Qi Chong, used that “henpecked” reputation as an excuse to turn away people asking to borrow money, dodge social obligations, reject beautiful spy-concubines sent by political rivals with ill intent, and rise smoothly through officialdom.
In the end, I alone bore the infamy of being a shrew and a jealous wife. I angered my father to death, and I myself fell gravely ill and died.
When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the first year of my marriage to Qi Chong.
At a banquet, Qi Chong didn’t dare refuse the beautiful spy sent by his superior, and pushed me forward instead. Lifting his cup, he put on a troubled expression and said,
“I like the beauty very much.
“But if I bring her into the household, my wife will be upset again.”
What he didn’t know was that I took the beauty’s hand, then turned back to him with a gentle, magnanimous smile.
“Since my husband is so fond of her, and I’ve already checked that your birth dates are compatible, why not bring her into the household today?”
Qi Chong’s face filled with shock. He froze where he stood.
