chapter 1

The day my Mother died happened to be my fifth birthday.

Early that morning, Father took me out, bought all sorts of fruits and pastries at the street market, and even picked out a beautiful Hairpin for Mother.

He said that when Mother gave birth to me, she had a difficult labor and nearly lost her life. He told me to give this Hairpin to Mother that evening.

I grinned and agreed, saying the Hairpin had Mother’s favorite lotus pendant-she would surely be happy to see it.

Father then asked me many questions, wanting to know if I had heard any rumors at the academy lately, or if anyone had spoken ill of Mother.

When I nodded, he anxiously asked, “Is Mother good to you?”

“Mother treats me well. I like Mother,” I replied.

Father’s tense expression relaxed a lot. He gently told me, “Your Mother is a woman of misfortune, but she is the purest person in this world. You must always listen to her and be filial to her all your life.”

Just as I was about to agree, the Servant Boy from our household came running over in a panic, his eyes full of fear: “Madam! Madam has died at the entrance of the alley!”

Father didn’t spare a thought for me. He almost tumbled as he rushed forward, falling and scraping his face and hands, then stumbling up again to run ahead.

I followed behind him, crying and calling for Father, but he didn’t look back.

Father pushed through the crowd at the alley entrance. He had always been refined and had never raised his voice, but now all his composure was gone, all his manners and upbringing shattered: “Get out of the way! Get out of the way! Don’t look! Don’t look!”

He shouted in agony, tearing off his outer robe in a frenzy to cover Mother, then helplessly cradled her and ran back toward the house.

He sobbed uncontrollably, like a stray dog who had lost his home and family, with nowhere left to go.