Chapter 4

My stepmother had been busy arranging my wedding and often summoned me to speak with her.

She showed me the wedding robes, phoenix coronet, and dowry list one by one.

Most mistresses of great households behaved this way. Contrary to storybooks, few truly could not tolerate children who were not their own.

Women like that woman, who demanded one devoted couple for an entire lifetime, were rarer still.

I could not say which way was right. In any case, none of them seemed very happy.

The rules of the inner household had been fixed long ago. They governed us, and they governed them as well.

I was seldom lively; they were listless too.

My close friends were much the same.

Even so, I remained convinced this life was far better than the one beyond the courtyard walls.

As the wedding approached, more news of my betrothed reached me.

He had not gone out to amuse himself lately. People said he was preparing earnestly for marriage; in truth, he was recuperating at home.

Every physician in the capital had supposedly been consulted. Bowl after bowl of medicine went down his throat, yet he showed no improvement.

I dreamed of a monstrous sore with a pig’s head growing from it, its lips puckered to kiss me.

I woke drenched in sweat to a commotion outside my courtyard. Second Sister rushed in, wild with excitement.

“Eldest Sister, we won! We won!”

She meant the war against the Northern Di.

After more than ten years of confrontation, our dynasty had finally prevailed. The rewarded army was returning to court.

Second Sister excitedly recounted the decisive battle: how bravely our troops had fought, how they had pursued the enemy into their own territory and taken their commander’s head.

Preoccupied, I responded absently. I entirely missed her saying that the general who had beheaded the Northern Di commander was a woman surnamed Duan.

That woman was surnamed Duan too.

But my mind was filled with that stinking pig’s head.

Why did they insist on marrying me to such a man?

They knew perfectly well I would die if I entered his household!

What use were phoenix coronets, embroidered bridal capes, or dowries? None of them could save my life!

I threw myself onto the bed and wept. Yuntang bit her lip. “Miss, please don’t cry. On the wedding night, I’ll take your place. Once the candles are out, he won’t know who is who.”

“What nonsense are you saying?”

Yuntang was only fourteen, hardly more than a child.

I wiped away my tears and showed no more pain. Secretly, I resolved that if I had to die, then at least I would die cleanly.

My wedding day soon arrived. Second Sister cried, a rare thing for her. I rubbed her head and told her to eat properly.

My eldest male cousin carried me into the sedan. Once its curtain fell, no one saw the dagger clutched in my hand.

I lifted my veil and drew the blade, debating whether to cut my throat or stab my heart.

The sedan swayed. A thrust to the heart could miss its mark, but if I cut my throat, would blood spray everywhere?

While I hesitated, the sedan abruptly stopped.

Hooves sounded nearby. Through the curtain, the wedding attendant told me we had encountered the victorious army returning for its rewards. Our procession had to pull aside and let it pass.

Curiosity overcame me. I lifted the side curtain and peered out. In the distance, high-spirited officers sat upon tall horses, sunlight flashing from their armor. Faces beneath their helmets were lost in alternating bands of light and shadow, impossible to see clearly.

I dropped the curtain, raised the dagger, and aimed at my heart.

I wanted revenge.

I would not die alone in some inner courtyard, where Father and Grandmother could conceal the truth and say I had died of illness or accidentally drowned.

I would die in the bridal sedan and become the capital’s favorite topic over tea. I wanted everyone to know my own blood relatives had driven me to death.

The hoofbeats drew nearer. The soldiers’ measured tread reached my ears.

They stopped.

Then, as one, they called toward the sedan,

“Congratulations on your joyful day!”

The sedan was red. The wedding procession was red. Red filled my vision; joy filled every face. Everyone was smiling except me.

Who would imagine this was anything but an occasion for congratulations?

My hand trembled, and the dagger shook with it. I knew I would not have the strength to stab myself twice.

The first thrust had to strike true.

Tears slid down my cheeks. I closed my eyes.

Truthfully, the thing I had feared most since childhood was pain.