Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My mother was beautiful so long as she kept her mouth shut. The moment she spoke, her complete lack of learning announced itself to the world.

Once, while paying respects at the Empress Dowager’s palace, she finally found a chance to flatter Her Majesty. “You look much younger lately. Even the wrinkles around your eyes have faded!”

Every voice in the room died. The Empress Dowager’s face went white, then red, and the hand gripping her teacup began to tremble.

Mother promptly added, “Could this be the first sign of a stroke? Why is your hand shaking so badly? Shall I summon an imperial physician?”

An ordinary morning audience ended in offended silence, and that afternoon an imperial physician duly visited the Empress Dowager’s Palace of Longevity.

My imperial father was a good emperor, but not a good father.

Once he saw Little Twenty-Nine shove me over. Instead of helping, he hid around a corner and watched. After she swaggered away, I dusted myself off and held out my arms for a palace maid to carry me home.

That evening, Father expected me to complain. I did not.

“Did Little Twenty-Nine push you today?”

“I don’t think so. We always play like that.”

He pretended to be angry. “The skin on your palm is scraped off, and you still claim she didn’t push you?”

“Then the imperial garden’s paving must be uneven. It isn’t Twenty-Ninth Sister’s fault.”

Father turned to Mother. “Should we have a physician examine the child’s head?”

Yes, I ranked thirtieth. Father was a remarkably productive emperor: six sons and thirty daughters. No wonder the palace was forever overrun by women.

I was born during a drought so severe that the fields had split open. That morning Mother craved pork knuckle. Halfway through devouring a platter, her stomach began to hurt. She assumed she had overeaten and went for a walk, but by the time the matrons realized what was happening, her waters had broken.

Thunder cracked from a clear sky and clouds massed overhead. Father waited outside the delivery room, delighted. “Such an auspicious sign before my son is even born!”

Then I emerged. The clouds scattered, and the sun blazed brightly enough to blind him.

His face fell eight feet. Hearing that I was yet another daughter, he told Mother, “Since she is a girl, call her Xiaoyu.”

Mother frowned. “Xiaoyuba is an awkward name.”

Father had no answer.

The next day rain poured down and his spirits rose. The drought was over—only to be replaced by floods.

He apparently blamed me for stealing away his auspicious omen. His mood rose, fell, and then kept falling until he even considered strangling me. Reason prevailed, fortunately; the Defender-General stood behind me like a protective talisman.

That was why I was not favored at all. Superstition truly was deadly, especially in a man who had supposedly studied the Four Books and Five Classics.

I had so many elder sisters that the oldest already had children old enough to run errands. I became an aunt the day I was born.

Mother once worried that while other people might accidentally be matched with a cousin, I might be matched with my own nephew. Nanny Leng stopped that runaway train of thought by explaining that such a thing was incest, condemned by the world, and therefore impossible.

My maternal grandfather adored me. He loved daughters madly, but after eight sons had been blessed with only Mother. He had raised her like a pearl—only to see her enter the palace.

“What a pity,” Grandfather once said to her.

Mother smiled shyly. “His Majesty treats me very well.”

“When did you go blind?”

My name was Ji Ruyu, Father’s thirtieth daughter. At seven, my only worry was that my mouth and stomach were too small for all the food I wanted.

That day I crouched beside the koi pond, tossing in feed. Fish boiled across the surface, and I clapped with delight.

Little Twenty-Nine passed and rolled her eyes. “Little idiot. Imagine getting this excited over fish.”

“Twenty-Ninth Sister, I’m not an idiot,” I corrected her seriously.

She planted her hands on her round belly, like a glutinous-rice ball that had sprouted wings. “You are. Little idiot, little idiot—lit-tle id-i-ot!”

The palace maids dared not speak, but Nanny Xu protested. “How can the Twenty-Ninth Princess insult our princess so?”

“You’re only a nanny. Who are you to address me?”

She began shoving at me. Mother had recently explained that this was not play, so I knew to dodge. Unfortunately, my left foot caught my right, and with a splash I plunged headfirst into the koi pond.

The bank erupted into chaos.

Mother often told me how Grandfather and my uncles had faced death countless times. I had never understood what death felt like until water closed over me.

My eyes burned, my nose stung, and my ears ached. Koi, mistaking me for food, swarmed close and slapped me with slick tails. Terror engulfed me. Dying felt awful.

Many hands dragged me out.

By the time Mother heard, Little Twenty-Nine had fled. “Just like Zhao Yaru’s daughter,” Mother spat. “Bold enough to do evil, too cowardly to answer for it. An ungrateful family.”

When I woke, Little Twenty-Nine knelt beside my bed, sobbing.

“Quiet,” Mother snapped. “Cry again and I’ll sew your mouth shut.”

The crying stopped at once. I stared at Mother in awe. She was magnificent.

Once she knew I was merely unconscious and not badly hurt, Mother had stormed into the Palace of Eternal Harmony, flattened a trail of servants, seized a trembling Little Twenty-Nine, and hauled her back. Noble Consort Zhao was away paying respects to the Empress Dowager, which made the abduction easy.

Little Twenty-Nine insisted I had fallen on my own. Strictly speaking, she told the truth, though only after trying to push me.

Mother slapped her twice. “I’ll ask once more. Did you try to push your Thirtieth Sister?”

Mother’s hands could draw a bow and wield a saber. The fact that the girl’s mouth remained intact meant Mother had held back.

Little Twenty-Nine wailed. Mother actually fetched needle and thread, frightening her into hiccupping silence.

I decided matters had gone far enough and slowly “woke,” lest Twenty-Nine’s soul depart for the afterlife.

Just then an attendant announced Noble Consort Zhao.

“My, Little Sister, what a temper. Children tussle. Was it worth raiding my palace?”

She clearly did not yet know what her daughter had endured.

Mother rolled her eyes. “Before entering the palace, you called me Elder Sister. Now I’m Little Sister? Have you been lying about your age?”

Seeing me awake, Zhao tried to retreat gracefully. “Since Ruyu is well, Ruyun and I shall leave. Ruyun, come with your mother.”

Little Twenty-Nine refused. “Why should I? I’ll kneel until Father comes and gives me justice! She hit me too. Mother, it hurts!”

Noble Consort Zhao’s brows shot up. She struck the table so hard her jeweled nail guard nearly flew off. “Xu Jinyue, how dare you strike Ruyun?”

Before Mother could reply, Father arrived.

Zhao instantly staggered forward, gathered Ruyun into her arms, and began sobbing as though her heart would break. Their performance had found its audience, so I lay quietly back down.