Chapter 1 — Leaving the Jiang Estate

On the night of the Lantern Festival that year, I rescued the heir to the Marquis of Ningyuan, who lay unconscious in a darkened alley. Before we parted ways, he promised he would come to find me. Yet, the very next day, my mother insisted I travel to the Temple of Eternal Buddha to pray for her health. By the time I returned, the Jiang household was decked out in lanterns and silk ribbons, and my eldest sister was already betrothed to that very same heir. My mother took a sip of tea, regarding me with a calm, indifferent gaze.

"You have been peculiar and narrow-minded since you were small, always striving to snatch whatever your eldest sister desires. If you cause any more trouble, do not blame me for failing to preserve your dignity."

I had no intention of causing trouble. I simply looked at her in silence. In truth, I had waited at the Temple of Eternal Buddha for seven days, and then seven more. It was only when the Empress herself approached the prayer mat, sighing as she looked at me, that I spoke.

"Stop waiting," she said. "Come to my side and serve as a lady-in-waiting."

I remembered the carriage from the Jiang household that had never arrived to fetch me, and I bowed my head. "Yes. Jiang Hui is honored to serve."

01

My mother sat upright in her chair, her expression placid, devoid of the slightest trace of guilt. Suddenly, I remembered a month ago, when she had clutched her chest in bed, her face pale as parchment, her breath rattling and faint. The flickering light against the bed curtains seemed to threaten to swallow her whole. Clearly, I had always believed that I harbored a deep hatred for her. Yet, in that moment, my heart felt only an aching void. The mysterious nun at the temple had claimed that only a blood relative could pray for her recovery for seven days. I knew the notion was absurd, but I went anyway. Life in the temple was grueling; the nun insisted that true piety required fasting, allowing only three steamed buns and a few bowls of clear water each day. I watched the sun crawl from the eastern eaves of the temple to sink slowly behind the drum tower in the west. Seven days passed, and no one from the Jiang household arrived to collect me. The nun suggested, "Perhaps your mother has not yet fully recovered. Wait a little longer."

Another seven days passed. When I finally returned to the Jiang residence, I was greeted by the sight of red silk and wedding lanterns everywhere. Jiang Ying was to be married. The man she was to wed was Xia Si Gui. A fine, misty rain dampened my clothes. I lowered my eyes, using a handkerchief to dry my sleeves. My mother, assuming I was sulking, knitted her brows.

"You have been peculiar and narrow-minded since you were small, always trying to snatch things from your eldest sister. Must you cause such a scene that the entire household cannot find peace?"

Strive to snatch? I had indeed wanted to once. Since childhood, I could never understand why every beautiful thing had to belong to Jiang Ying. Why did my mother always embrace her, yet refuse to look at me even once? Why, even when she had finished her pastries, was I expected to surrender my own portion if she desired it? I would refuse to yield, and Jiang Ying would simply pout, her lips trembling. My mother's face would instantly darken.

"It is merely a pastry, and you still wish to compete with your elder sister? Why are you so lacking in sense?"

"If you were not born so domineering, would your sister have been so sickly and frail since birth, nearly losing her life?"

"That is a debt you owe her!"

I longed to retort, but I never knew how. Because I had, in fact, been born with robust health. Even on nights when my mother focused entirely on caring for Jiang Ying, leaving me to curl up in the corner of the bed in the freezing rain--without a silk blanket, shivering through the night--I never caught a cold. Meanwhile, Jiang Ying only needed the slightest chill to become too weak to even sip water. She had to be fed by our mother; she had to be coddled everywhere she went. I hung my head, watching Jiang Ying carelessly take a bite of a pastry before tossing it aside. A heavy, suffocating stone seemed to settle in my chest. Jiang Ying never needed to fight for anything. My mother would naturally bring everything she wanted to her fingertips. As for me, no matter how much I wanted something, I could never attain it. Whether it was that osmanthus cake, the cherries sent by our maternal grandmother, or the silks and jewelry bestowed by the palace, it was always the same. And now, it was Xia Si Gui.

02

The heavy, humid air made it difficult to breathe, and I let out a soft, mirthless laugh.

"Mother, does the Ha family know that in order to secure a powerful husband for Jiang Ying, you are willing to scheme against your own flesh and blood?"

A sharp sound echoed. My cheek burned, as if thousands of needles were pricking the skin. My mother recoiled, her hand trembling.

"You dare to defy your elders! I see the month at Temple of Eternal Buddha was a complete waste; you did not absorb even a fraction of the Buddha's compassion!"

She fixed me with a cold glare before turning away. "In that case, you shall cleanse your soul today, and perhaps find some peace of mind in solitude."

My mother left. I was placed under house arrest; no one brought me lunch, nor was there dinner. The first time my mother made me starve, I was five. At first, I refused to yield, but the hunger was a torment--like a worm burrowing into my gut, gnawing at my very flesh. After only a day, I could not hold out. My mother had stood before me then, looming like an immovable mountain.

"Do you know you were wrong?" she asked. "Apologize to your elder sister, and this matter will be finished."

I did not know what I had done wrong. But if I did not apologize, I would continue to starve. Before I could even speak, tears spilled over, and I choked out the words: "Elder sister, I was wrong."

Jiang Ying curled her lips. She was satisfied, and my mother finally slid a plate of sweet-and-sour ribs toward me. "Eat. These are your favorite. I have had them prepared for you."

"If you were not so headstrong, you would not have to suffer like this..."

I looked at my mother, wanting to tell her that I had never liked sweets. It was Jiang Ying who loved them. But in the end, I remained silent. The sweet-and-sour ribs that day held no sweetness at all. The sour, bitter taste was something I had memorized from the age of five until this very day.

03

Deep in the night, waves of laughter drifted from the main courtyard. Chun Dao entered the room quietly, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"The household is hosting a banquet for Master Ha. It is said... it is said that all the masters of the Jiang household are attending."

No wonder. My mother had forbidden me from leaving, fearing I might encounter Xia Si Gui. She had worried for nothing. Seeing my silence, Chun Dao misunderstood.

"That Master Ha is truly blind; he cannot even distinguish who it was that saved him."

I tugged at the corner of my mouth, offering no response. Chun Dao, thinking I was masking my pain, suddenly tapped her forehead and pulled a small package of pastries from her sleeve. "I used my own savings to buy these outside; no one knows. Please, eat, Miss."

The sweet fragrance of the food reached me, and I swallowed involuntarily. Chun Dao's eyes brightened. My mother's word was law; since she had ordered me to fast, the kitchen had not dared send a single crumb. I had nothing to eat, and neither did Chun Dao. I felt a pang of guilt. "Being my servant has caused you such hardship."

In Jiang Ying's residence, everything was opulent--the food, the clothes, the trinkets. Even her servants lived better than most minor nobility. It was nothing like my residence, where even Chun Dao had to starve alongside me. Chun Dao shook her head. "I suffer no hardship. If you had not saved me that year, I would have been sold into a brothel by human traffickers."

"How could I be anywhere else? Serving you is a life of ease and peace."

She offered the pastry to me again. "Please, eat, Miss. If it gets cold, it won't taste good."

I blinked, smiled, and stuffed a piece of the pastry into her mouth instead. "Chun Dao, if I were to leave the Jiang household, would you come with me?"

The Empress wanted me as a lady-in-waiting, but palace walls were too high and the palace itself too vast. I wanted someone familiar by my side. Chun Dao panicked, nearly choking on the pastry as she shook her head frantically. "Miss, you must not be reckless. The daughter of the Ministry of Revenue fled with a man, and not long after... she was captured by bandits. Now, her reputation is ruined, and her family refuses to recognize her. She lives a life worse than death."

"Even if the mistress and the others treat you... poorly, she is still your mother. The world outside is dangerous. You must never run away."

I laughed, pressing my finger against her forehead. "You silly girl, do you think your mistress is that foolish?"

"Of course I have somewhere else to go. I would never let you suffer with me."

Chun Dao looked stunned, then grinned foolishly. "Very well. Wherever you go, Miss, I shall follow."

The evening breeze blew through the room, and the silk curtains swayed gently. I smiled. In the future, having Chun Dao would be enough. As for this Jiang household, let it remain for Jiang Ying.

04

Perhaps because she saw I was not causing trouble, my mother lifted my house arrest the next day. She called me before her, her expression still stern.

"There is a joyous occasion in the house recently, so I shall not argue with you for the time being. If you dare to speak nonsense again, I will not be so lenient."

My father sighed as well. "Stop making your mother angry. She tossed and turned all night because of you. Today, she even specifically instructed the kitchen to prepare the dishes you like."

"You are a grown woman now. Do try to be more sensible."

I listened, my heart remaining entirely unruffled; I even felt an urge to laugh. Before, my mother had always been the same--striking me and then offering a sweet candy. When I was young, I often wondered: Did she love me? If she loved me, why, as her daughters, were we treated so differently? If she did not love me, why did she not simply remain cold to the end? My heart felt torn in two. I could not understand it, nor could I clearly discern the truth. Time and again, I had reached out to her, trying to prove to myself that I, too, was worthy of love. But each time, I was pushed away, left wounded. Now, I was finally exhausted. I no longer had the strength to argue; I simply replied, "It is my fault. I will not repeat this again."

My mother stared at me, stunned, appearing caught off guard by my reaction. After a long moment, she waved her hand, a complex look in her eyes. "Fine. You may withdraw and eat."

I bowed, not pausing for even a second before turning and walking away.

05

I returned to my residence and shared a hearty meal with Chun Dao. She clutched her stomach, hiccuping. "I cannot eat any more. If I eat one more bite, it will come right back up."

My own stomach felt heavy and uncomfortable, so I pulled her to her feet. "Come, let us go walk it off."

I led Chun Dao on a stroll through the garden until we finally felt at ease. Just as we were about to turn away, the sound of laughter suddenly drifted from a patch of flowers nearby.