Chapter 2

The seventh day of the third month. The day before my sister’s wedding.

Lanterns decorated the residence, and red silk hung all along the covered walkways.

For once, my stepmother smiled at me. She had a maid bring me a new outfit.

“Ayuan, tomorrow is your sister’s big day. Dress properly. Don’t disgrace the household.”

I looked down at the clothes. Pale lavender, good fabric.

But I knew this was only the calm before the storm.

Sure enough, on the evening of the eighth, my stepmother’s maid Cui’er came to my courtyard with a bowl of osmanthus tangyuan.

“Second Miss, Madam asks you to come to the front hall. Eldest Miss will be leaving for her husband’s home soon. She’d like you to keep her company.”

I stared at the bowl. White glutinous-rice balls floated in amber syrup, scattered with golden osmanthus blossoms.

Exactly as I remembered.

I followed Cui’er to the front hall.

My sister sat before a bronze mirror in a scarlet wedding gown while the wedding attendant combed her hair.

My stepmother stood beside her with another bowl of tangyuan.

“Yue’er, have something to line your stomach. It’ll be a busy night.”

My sister smiled over her shoulder. “Mother, I’m not hungry.”

My stepmother raised the bowl to her lips.

“Have a couple anyway, for good luck. They’re filled with osmanthus. You loved them when you were little.”

Unable to refuse, my sister opened her mouth.

My heart clenched.

This was exactly how it had happened before. She’d eaten the first, and my stepmother had coaxed her into a second.

Then a third. Then, at last, she’d collapsed into my arms.

“Mother will eat this bowl of tangyuan herself and bear the consequences she deserves.”

The words scraped out of my throat.

The whole room fell silent.

My stepmother’s hand froze in midair. My sister stared at me in bewilderment.

“You… What did you say?”

Before she could finish, my stepmother’s right hand jerked upward and clamped around the bowl.

Then her jaw opened as if someone had pried it apart. The white rice balls slid from the bowl into her mouth. She swallowed without even chewing.

My sister sprang to her feet. “Mother?”

Too late. Every last one was down her throat.

Shen Qinghe rushed out from behind the screen.

“Mother! What are you doing?”

My stepmother’s mouth was stuffed with tangyuan. She tried to spit them out, but her jaws wouldn’t open.

My sister stood frozen in horror.

The wedding attendant screamed, “Get help!”

Cui’er stumbled toward the door and tripped over the threshold.

My stepmother’s belly swelled. Her fitted outer jacket strained out of shape.

Qinghe clutched her sleeve, sobbing. “Mother, stop eating!”

My stepmother flung her off. Her face had turned a dark, purplish black.

“Water… Give me water…”

Cui’er brought some. My stepmother snatched the cup and poured it into her mouth.

She had barely swallowed before she spat blood.

“Help… Help me!”

My sister rushed over, pulled me back, and held me against her.

“Don’t look, Ayuan.”

Qinghe whipped around to stare at me.

“You! You cursed my mother!”

I said nothing.

Qinghe scrambled up, charged over, and raised a hand to slap me.

My sister shoved her away.

“Have you lost your mind, Qinghe? You saw Mother do it herself—”

“The mute spoke!” Qinghe screamed. “Mother only started eating after she said those words!”

On the floor, my stepmother stopped convulsing. Her eyes were wide open.

The wedding attendant ran out screaming:

“She’s dead! Madam is dead!”