Spring Among Pear Blossoms - Chapter 3

When I was nine, my mother smashed her head against the edge of a well and died.

It was bitterly cold. Blood covered her face and body, making her look like a vengeful ghost.

Lower down, a pair of golden scissors was buried in her belly.

She lay slumped beside the well, her eyes unfocused.

When she saw me, her voice broke into a shriek.

“A-Yuan, run!”

But servants had my shoulders pinned in their grip.

People surrounded the courtyard.

The old serving women who attended my father’s wife clamored to have my mother, that “whore,” drowned in the pond.

When they charged toward her, I screamed and fainted.

Then I burned with fever for several days.

When I woke again, I had become a fool.

Pretending, of course.

I knew my mother had wanted to protect me.

Unless I escaped the Jiang family, that place which devoured people whole, my father’s wife would torture me to death sooner or later.

The mistress of the household had accused my mother of adultery. She claimed that the child in my mother’s belly was a stableman’s bastard, too.

The stableman, seeing their supposed affair exposed, had climbed over the wall and fled that night.

To ingratiate themselves with the mistress, everyone in the household told blatant lies and stepped forward as a false witness.

Where could I run?

I was only nine.

Even if I managed to escape the minister’s residence, I’d become a beggar.

Or worse, traffickers would snatch me up and sell me.

The mistress made a show of summoning physicians for me.

None could cure my supposed condition. They said the high fever had probably damaged my mind; such things had happened before.

At first, she refused to believe it. She assigned two maids, Taohong and Liulü, to test me.

They had no idea I had already lived two lives.

In the last one, I had worked like a beast of burden, spending every day watching my boss’s face to see what mood he was in.

The maids saw only a nine-year-old child. Their attempts to test me were painfully obvious.

Whatever they said, I gave them a silly grin.

When I couldn’t be bothered anymore, I threw myself down and rolled around in a tantrum.

Once my face was smeared with tears and snot, they stopped asking whether I wanted revenge for my dead mother.

At first, the mistress feared me and wanted to eliminate me for good.

Later, she decided having a foolish stepdaughter suited her very well.

My stupidity made Jiang Danyue seem all the more noble and beautiful.

For every banquet, she had the maids dress me in extravagant gowns with garish colors and stick six or seven gold hairpins into my hair.

The noble guests laughed themselves silly at the sight of me.

Openly or otherwise, they all wondered how the Minister of Rites had produced such a vulgar daughter.

The mistress, meanwhile, defended me with an expression of fond indulgence.

“Yuanyuan is still young. She likes dressing this way. It’s a little excessive, but let her do as she pleases.”

The ladies friendly with her knew a little of the story about my mother’s “affair.”

“You’re remarkably generous to keep her,” they teased.

And so the mistress earned a reputation for virtue.

After my mother died, my father, the Minister of Rites, showed me a little paternal affection.

Naturally, he was pretending, too.

He announced before the entire household that he would teach me himself, giving me my first lessons and showing me how to conduct myself properly.

After half a month, he discovered that I could muddle even the first two lines of the Three Character Classic.

He concluded that I was hopelessly stupid.

Then he gave up on me and devoted himself to cultivating my sister.

She did not disappoint.

Music, chess, calligraphy, painting—she had to be first in everything.

Once she came of age at her hairpin ceremony and was old enough for marriage negotiations, the emperor bestowed a betrothal between her and Xie Ling, Prince Zhennan’s heir.

He was the gracious young heir in white, gentle as fine jade; she was the capital’s gifted young lady, with poetry always ready on her tongue.

Unfortunately, war broke out again six months later.

The marriage had been delayed ever since.

Half a month ago, Prince Zhennan had died and his son had been wounded.

Now Xie Ling was a sickly man who needed medicine just to stay alive.

He was even less likely to father children.

Prince Zhennan’s title would probably pass to the second son, born to the current princess consort.

Our household had been very lively these past few days. My sister and father had both cried several times, and the mistress kept snapping at him.

“With all the lowborn households in the capital, why should our Yue’er suffer? She has talent and beauty. She could marry into the Eastern Palace and become the crown princess!”

“Besides, Prince Zhennan’s funeral rites are over. By precedent, his heir needn’t wait three years to marry. Do you want Yue’er married off to live like a widow with a husband still alive?”

My father put on his ministerial airs. The emperor himself had bestowed this betrothal, he said. There could be no question of breaking their word.

He consoled the mistress.

“Lord Xie is barely clinging to life. He may not last much longer.”