Chapter 5

As one of the male leads, the oil peddler had delicate features and looked gentle and harmless.

But when the others came out to greet us, I noticed something: his mother and sisters all showed signs of starvation. He alone still looked reasonably human.

Food was scarce, yet to entertain the woman he loved, the oil peddler brought out their last scraps of bran and dregs.

Yumo ate one small bowl, then shook her head and said she was full. I, on the other hand, reached straight for the largest basin. She gave me a reproachful look. “Hua Nu, how can a woman eat from a bowl that big?”

“Big bowl. Big achievements.”

Right in front of her, I drained the basin.

When I got up to leave, well fed and satisfied, Yumo hurried after me. “Hua Nu, aren’t you staying?”

“No. I have to go.”

She panicked. “Wouldn’t it be better to stay? We could look after each other!”

Normally, Yumo would never have begged me for anything. In her mind, only a man could be relied upon. Seeing through her motives, I refused coldly. “Do you think you can keep me here?”

“But—but if you leave, what am I supposed to do on my own?”

“So you don’t dare make demands of him, only of me,” I said flatly. “Because I’m a woman, like you?”

Yumo flinched, unable to find an answer.

I mounted my horse, ready to ride away.

To my surprise, she threw herself down before its hooves and begged. “Please, Hua Nu!”

“Three days!”

“Just stay another three days!”

The drought in Hebei had left nine homes out of ten deserted.

As it dragged on, rebel armies rose everywhere—in Fujian, in eastern Zhejiang, in every region save Jiangnan, with its plentiful fish and rice.

Without the heroine to worry about, I would already have seized the opportunity and joined a band of mountain outlaws.

But facing this woman, so rapidly wasting away, her eyes enormous in her shrunken face—

I agreed.

The first day.

An extraordinary beauty had come to the oil peddler’s home.

The news soon spread.

With neighbors, relatives, and family looking on, the pair hastily performed their wedding bows. From then on, they were husband and wife.

That night, through a thin wall shedding crumbs of plaster, I could hear them whispering.

The oil peddler, disdainfully: “That maid of yours is so burly. She doesn’t look like a woman at all!”

Yumo, awkwardly: “Hua Nu was born strong. She eats a lot, but she works hard too.”

The oil peddler, thoughtfully: “Still, she’s got broad hips. She ought to bear sons!”

Yumo, eager to please: “If you like her, have her as your concubine!”

For some reason, they grew increasingly excited and began discussing the possibility of group activities.

I, an innocent bystander, was left speechless.

Could I be part of their kink without even being in the room?

Carried away, the oil peddler ignored Yumo’s resistance and began pulling off her clothes.

“It’s our wedding night. How can you refuse to consummate our marriage?”

“B-but I’m not feeling well…”

He insisted. “My darling, it’s only because I love you!”

At that, Yumo stopped resisting.

Very soon, however, the oil peddler sprang away from her as though he had seen a ghost. “Yumo… How could you…”

“Pah! What rotten luck!”

A short while later, the bride came outside, expelled from her bridal chamber.

She stood alone beneath the doorway. Seeing me washing clothes by the well, she seemed stung by the bright red stains.

“Hua Nu, you have monthly bleeding too?”

“I’m a woman. Of course I have periods.”

“I thought…”

“Thought what?”

An awkward expression crossed her face. “Actually, my bleeding has started too…”

“Ah Lang says sharing a bed with me would ruin his luck.”

She did not seem angry. On the contrary, she thought this was how things ought to be and blamed herself for being oversensitive.

“Is he so frightened because he almost ended up as menstrual blood himself?” I asked coldly.

Her face became a riot of colors. “Hua Nu! How can you say that?”

I laughed. “So he can accept sleeping with you, but he can’t accept that you have a period?”

Yumo gaped, unable to think of a reply.

I picked up my washed clothes and walked past without looking at her.

“Periods aren’t a sickness. Shame is.”