Chapter 3 — Mother wants me to share my husband with you, so I won't marry anymore

That look was so angry that it seemed like I was the one bullying her. I moved my eyes away, not looking at her anymore. In my previous life, when I was not yet dead, she guarded my bedside and cried as if she were sincere, and my mother promised to let her take over my identity and dowry. At that time, I no longer had the strength to talk, I just looked at her face, thinking in my heart, all my misfortunes in this life seem to be related to you. But every time, you look innocent. I withdrew my thoughts and firmly said: "This relationship is so good, just let me enjoy it alone. I won't fight with her." Tong Dao was stunned for a moment, a barely concealed glint of joy flashed through her eyes, but then she immediately changed into a look of panic and fear.

"Sister, don't say that... Mother only has good intentions. If you are not willing, then I won't marry you anymore."

She said with her mouth that she wouldn't marry, but the bride price list in her hand was squeezed even tighter. I didn't look at her, just raised my eyes to look at my mother sitting in the chair. Mother stared at me for a long time: "Tong Yen, today you were determined to embarrass me and make me lose face, right?" I didn't answer, just stood there quietly. I am the eldest daughter, Tong Dao is the second daughter. There is an order for elders and children, but there is a difference in the hierarchy of children and grandchildren. This is the rule of a great family. Wherever you go, it can be said clearly and logically. But in the Song family, these eight words have never really been created before. Mother did not let her servants call me Big Miss, nor did she let them call Tong Dao Second Miss. She said calling us like that would seem distant, would make us rely on our own status to use big to oppress the small, use the strong to oppress the weak. But she never thought that big sister and little sister were inherently different. She erased with address, erased with rules, also erased with the boundary between target and object. Lower people are the ones who are the best at seeing other people's faces. As time goes by, everyone just calls me "Miss Yen" and calls Tong Dao "Miss Dao". It sounds like they are close, close and harmonious, but there is no longer any distinction between big and small, nor any distinction between hierarchy. Tong Dao has become a habit of being pampered by people, truly considering him and me as equals. Later, when she married into the General's palace, just because someone called her "Tong Concubine", her eyes turned red. On the day of her dowry, she snuggled into Bui Ngon's arms, tears falling drop by drop, feeling so sorry for herself that it seemed like she had suffered a great injustice. Mother was so heartbroken that she couldn't bear it. She patted her back and advised the General. She said: "Dao Nhi has never been subjected to this kind of injustice since she was a child. In our palace, we have always been treated the same. Whatever her sister has, she also has that. Suddenly being called a concubine, how can she stand it?" Bui Ngon was convinced by her words. The next day, he immediately ordered down below that in the palace he was no longer allowed to call concubine, only "Mrs. Yen" and "Mrs. Dao". It turns out that the main wife and the concubine, in the mother's eyes, should also be exactly the same. Later, his mother began to teach Bui Ngon how to manage the house how to trach. She said that only equal treatment is the basis for peace in the house, telling him to follow her own way. Bui Ngon is a martial artist and doesn't understand the twists and turns of the house, and Mrs. Bui doesn't want to get involved in the affairs between us two sisters, so whatever mother says, he does. He came to my hospital to rest for a day, so the next day he must go to Tong Dao's hospital to rest for a day. He said a few words to me, then turned around and had to go say a few words to Tong Dao, even the number of sentences had to be approximately the same. One time he returned from court and brought me a box of cinnamon rolls from the south of the city. When Tong Dao learned about this, he stopped eating that night. The next day Bui Ngon went out again, his mother specially sent someone to spread the word, telling him to bring a box to Tong Dao when he returned, the flavor had to be the same, the quantity had to be the same, even the color of the oil paper used to wrap the cake couldn't be the slightest bit different. From then on, whatever Bui Ngon brought me, he would definitely bring the same to Tong Dao.