Chapter 1: “Sister-in-law.”
The twenty-sixth day of the first lunar month, Qianshan Village, Cui Clan Ancestral Hall.
“Oh, Cui Er is finally back!”
“What Cui Er? He’s Scholar Cui now! He placed first in last year’s county examination, right? Anshou, was it? The Cui family’s ancestral graves must be smoking! He’s been living at the private academy. He only found out his brother had passed yesterday and rushed back.”
“Compared to him, Cui Ze was really unlucky…”
“Isn’t that the truth? Sigh… The third master’s family was doing so well, but in just over a decade, only this second boy and Brother Ze’s wife are left. Especially Zhen’niang. She’s been like she’s in a daze these past two days, can’t hear a word anyone says. The poor thing.”
The plump, elderly woman paused, glanced towards the side room entrance, and quickly changed the subject. “Has the Daoist master arrived?”
“Yesterday, they said he would perform the rites during the first watch tonight…”
Six or seven steps away from the group of female relatives, who all had white cloth tied around their waists, Feng Yuzhen was leaning against the doorway of a side room. She lifted her face, staring blankly into the distance.
Feng Yuzhen was nineteen this year. She had been married for less than half a year, and her life with her husband had been harmonious. But while gathering firewood on the mountain, her husband, Cui Ze, had startled a hibernating snake. Its ghastly white fangs sank into a vital spot.
The venom was potent, and Cui Ze did not survive two days before succumbing to it. The pitiful Feng Yuzhen, left behind, went from a new bride to a widow overnight.
Cui Ze’s parents had passed away early, but fortunately, the Cui clan was large and prosperous in the Qianshan Village area. He had been raised by the clan, and now, after his death, his coffin was laid in state in the Cui Clan Ancestral Hall.
The ancestral hall, which had been oppressive and silent for the past six days, was now filled with incessant whispers.
At the center of everyone’s gazes and gossip was the very “Scholar Cui Er” now kneeling before the coffin, her husband Cui Ze’s only biological brother—Cui Jingkong.
Unlike the envy of the others, Feng Yuzhen’s face turned deathly pale upon seeing this promising young brother-in-law, as if she had seen a ghost in broad daylight.
Cui Jingkong was two years younger than Feng Yuzhen and had not yet reached the age of capping. His frame was only halfway to full maturity, yet he was still half a head taller than the other men present.
He had rushed here in the rain without an umbrella, and the hem of his robe was spattered with specks of muddy water.
The weather at the end of the second lunar month was far from warm. At a time of year when others wore padded jackets, he was dressed in a single, worn-out, sky-blue-green longshan that had been washed until its threads were showing and its color had faded to white.
His broad yet slender shoulders were constrained beneath the thin fabric, and his back remained ramrod straight even as he knelt. The sleeves were awkwardly short, exposing half of his forearms with a single lift of his hand, a clear sign of his straitened circumstances.
This disheveled version of Cui Jingkong made Feng Yuzhen feel a momentary daze. In her memory, he was more often “Chancellor Cui,” clad in purple robes and a jade belt, exuding an indescribable nobility from head to toe.
In the dim dungeon, the tall, graceful man had a faint smile on his lips, the candlelight casting his long, dark silhouette upon the wall.
In his pale hand, he gripped a bronze whip, casually lashing the prisoner before him until their skin split and flesh gaped open, their screams of agony echoing through the chamber.
As the prisoner’s cries weakened, splatters of hot blood landed directly on the man’s handsome face. Yet his smile only widened, the madness in his eyes on full display.
Feng Yuzhen tore her gaze away from the prayer beads that had slipped down to his forearm and shivered involuntarily. She turned and steadied herself against the wall as she walked into the side room.
She walked very slowly, not out of any leisurely grace. Her posture was slightly odd, her center of gravity unstable and leaning faintly to the left, like a small boat tilting in choppy waters.
An old injury from falling off a cliff in her youth had left her with a slight limp in her left foot. In the beginning, she had needed a cane to keep her balance.
Later, her mother had forcefully taken her cane away. Gritting her teeth through fall after fall, she had ground two thick layers of calluses onto her knees before she could finally walk normally without aid.
Although the limp no longer hindered her ability to work, it was still considered unseemly for a young woman. This was one of the reasons she had become an “old maid” of eighteen before anyone came to propose marriage.
Cui Ze was an orphan and a hunter, five years her senior. There was likely no family in the village poorer than his.
But at the time, Feng Yuzhen’s parents were desperate to gather the betrothal gift for their only son’s engagement. So they accepted half a string of copper coins and a pair of wild geese from Cui Ze and hastily married her off in less than six months.
Sitting on a chair, Feng Yuzhen was deeply unsettled.
If she remembered correctly, this brother-in-law of hers in name would walk over to her after finishing three kowtows and ask if she wanted to live with him…
After her husband’s death, Feng Yuzhen was left a lone widow. Because her parents-in-law had died long ago, she either had to live with her husband’s only remaining blood relative, Cui Jingkong, or stay at the Cui family’s main residence.
As for her own family, that path was completely closed. In her previous life, upon learning of his son-in-law’s death, her father had only wanted to marry her off to an old widower by the river in exchange for a few pecks of rice.
Just as she expected, a moment later, Cui Jingkong walked slowly into the room.
Seeing him fulfill her prediction, Feng Yuzhen stood up from the chair in a near panic.
Cui Jingkong’s expression was cold, his eyes still starkly black and white, possessing a clear, deep chill. There was not a hint of red around them; it seemed he had not shed a single tear.
He stopped four steps away from her and asked, “I am temporarily residing in a brick house west of the village. It can barely offer shelter from the rain. I wonder if Sister-in-law would be willing to move there?”
The question, separated by a lifetime, was once again thrown before Feng Yuzhen.
In her past life, she had hastily refused, partly out of concern for the great taboo between a brother-in-law and his sister-in-law, and partly out of fear for this cold and passionless young man.
Cui Jingkong had only nodded and left as silently as he had come. That was the last time they had seen each other in that life.
Afterward, Feng Yuzhen had stayed at the Cui Clan’s main residence, but unexpectedly, the relatives who had been so kind and amiable at Cui Ze’s funeral had completely changed their attitude.
Knowing she had cut ties with her own family and had no one to rely on, they ordered her about at will, treated her with harshness and contempt, and even beat, scolded, and humiliated her as if she were a servant girl.
Not only that, but in order to obtain an archway of chastity from the government to bring glory to the Cui clan, the main family feared she would be seduced by some rogue if she went out. They half-imprisoned her in the residence, gave her not a single coin, and only occasionally allowed her to go out for provisions, accompanied by a few stout, thick-waisted old aunts.
Feng Yuzhen was timid by nature and felt she had no way to escape, so she had managed to endure it for six years.
Until First Uncle Cui made improper advances toward her one night. Luckily, someone else stumbled upon them in time, but he turned the tables, accusing her of being promiscuous and claiming she had deliberately seduced him.
She was never good with words, and faced with such slander that twisted black into white, she was utterly unable to defend herself. Besides, no one was willing to contradict the Cui clan leader for the sake of a helpless, unsupported widow.
They casually branded her with the crime of being a loose woman. Afterwards, the twenty-six-year-old Feng Yuzhen, despite her struggles, was forcefully bound hand and foot. A stone was tied to her ankle, and under the cover of darkness, she was drowned in the river.
In a flash, the bone-chilling sensation of suffocation surged up again. Feng Yuzhen steadied herself by holding onto the back of the chair and took a deep breath.
The young brother-in-law before her was still waiting for her response.
No matter how disheveled his clothes were, Cui Jingkong’s face easily erased any sense of awkwardness. His dark hair was soaked by the rain, and droplets fell from the ends, slowly trickling down his ethereally beautiful face.
Cui Jingkong was exceptionally handsome; it would be hard to find another young man as fine-looking in all the surrounding villages. Anyone who saw him for the first time would be momentarily stunned. From his full forehead to his thin lips that were crimson without rouge, there was not a single feature that wasn’t refined and striking.
Faced with this handsome exterior, however, Feng Yuzhen only felt a chill run through her entire body.
No one knew better than her what lay hidden beneath the thin, scholarly veneer of this Xiucai, a man praised by outsiders and with a face as fair as jade—a ruthless and cruel nature.
After she was drowned in the pond, her spirit became a lingering ghost, and a storybook appeared out of thin air in her hands.
But Feng Yuzhen was illiterate. She dazedly opened it, and a puff of green smoke suddenly appeared before her eyes. In the smoke, she witnessed with her own eyes how Cui Jingkong climbed from the status of a commoner to the highest official rank.
The country folk, including herself, lacked even the most basic imagination when it came to scholarship. Passing the examination to become a Xiucai was enough to make them clap their hands in praise and run around spreading the news.
No one would have predicted that after his second attempt at the imperial examinations, Cui Jingkong would achieve the triple first as easily as taking something from his own pocket. Having just reached the age of capping, his name appeared on the golden roll in a single day, and his fame spread throughout the land.
After entering the imperial court, he began to distinguish himself. He handled matters flawlessly, and because of his jade-like face and his calm and astute nature, he was entrusted with important responsibilities several times. He had the air of a “lone courtier,” and thus, he gained the increasing trust and reliance of the young Son of Heaven.
Afterward, as Cui Jingkong’s power and influence grew, he began to reveal his cruel and greedy nature.
To those above, he used clever words and flattery to bewitch the Emperor. To those below, he bent the law for personal gain, ruthlessly hunting down and killing political enemies among the upright officials who held different views. For a long time, the scholarly circles were shrouded in the shadow of Chancellor Cui, and everyone in the capital lived in fear.
During a great drought in the capital, the rare flowers and exotic plants in the Cui residence remained vibrant and full of life. Beneath the lush foliage, Cui Jingkong’s private prison operated night after night, the sounds of miserable screams and curses all silenced deep underground.
Cui Jingkong’s opponents, whether they were men of unyielding integrity or foolishly weak, would always disappear mysteriously. Only in the depths of the blood-splattered flowerbeds did the flourishing blossoms, having feasted on their flesh and blood, bear witness to countless sins.
By the age of thirty, the faction he led would achieve final victory in the court’s power struggle, meaning that from then on, the Grand Secretariat and the Six Ministries would exist in name only.
And for Cui Jingkong, who had already climbed to the pinnacle of power, as the sole Grand Secretary, the imperial court had completely become a plaything in the palm of his hand.
That night, the all-powerful Chancellor Cui hosted a grand banquet at his capital residence. The brilliant fireworks and high-hanging lanterns nearly illuminated the entire southern suburb of the capital.
At the same time, a great fire silently ignited at the Cui family’s old residence three hundred li away, and it too burned throughout the night.
It burned to death all the able-bodied men, along with the women, children, and the elderly—all the members of the Cui clan who had bullied Cui Jingkong in his youth—all of them, burned to death in their deep, dark sleep.
Not a single person escaped.
But would staying in that cage-like old residence have led to a better outcome?
In her eyes, Cui Jingkong was no different from a wolf or a tiger. But if she lived her days peacefully, even if she had to humble herself and serve his daily needs, perhaps Cui Jingkong, remembering this small kindness, would spare her life?
By a stroke of luck, the gods and buddhas had granted her a chance to live again. This time, she had to escape this prison of her past life, no matter what.
Feng Yuzhen squeezed her palm, steadying her nerves. “Alright, I’ll go with you.”
Her voice was very soft and lacked strength, but the man opposite her, who had been wearing a faint expression, lifted his head at this unexpected response. In an instant, his two eyes pierced straight into her like cold spears.
Cui Jingkong’s long, upturned phoenix eyes lifted, quietly sizing her up.
This widowed sister-in-law, not much older than him, stood there honestly. Her figure was thin, and the white, coarse hemp mourning clothes hung on her frail body like a wooden bucket.
Her head was bowed, not daring to look at him, giving her a timid, provincial air that showed none of the courage she had mustered when she spoke just now.
Before this, Cui Jingkong had only met this sister-in-law once, at his elder brother’s wedding banquet half a year ago.
An oval face, fair skin, and eyes that looked at everyone timidly.
She had looked at him with some curiosity, like livestock penned in a corral, merely waiting to have its throat slit—no different from all the other foolish people in this land.
He had also glanced at her when he first entered the ancestral hall. Her expression was haggard, a standard new widow.
Cui Jingkong was tall. Looking down from his superior height, he could only see the crown of her dark hair and the tip of her pale chin.
His gaze swept downwards. The woman’s lame left foot was hidden within her loose-fitting clothes, trembling slightly.
Afraid of him?
A strange feeling arose in his heart: Why is she afraid of me? If she’s afraid of me, why did she agree to go with him?
Scholars were generally aloof, and thus he too was cold and distant. Thanks to his exceptional appearance, he received countless admiring and stunning gazes from women.
In any case, it shouldn’t be enough to make someone tremble in fear, especially since he had no prior conflict with this widowed sister-in-law.
Cui Jingkong naturally had many secrets that could not be known to others, but besides himself, the very few who knew were either already a pile of yellow earth or were striking a wooden fish in Lingfu Temple.
Or could it be… she had seen something with her own eyes?
This is outside of my plans. Keeping her by my side is a variable. It would be better to… The killing intent surged in his heart. The prayer beads on his wrist suddenly grew hot, like boiling water, but Cui Jingkong’s face showed no trace of it.
His gaze lingered for a moment on the slender, pale neck exposed between the woman’s collar and her dark hair. The index finger of his left hand twitched twice involuntarily.
Cui Jingkong quickly retracted his gaze and cupped his hands in a salute. “The brick house is in disrepair from age. I’m afraid Sister-in-law will be inconvenienced.”
“It is I who should be troubling you.”
The two then agreed to set out after Cui Ze’s burial the next day. Feng Yuzhen could only nod meekly.
After he left, the tension that had held Feng Yuzhen’s entire body taut snapped, and she immediately collapsed limply onto the chair. In the dead of winter, her back was soaked through with a cold, sticky sweat.
*
Translator’s Notes
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li (里): A traditional Chinese unit of distance, roughly equivalent to 500 meters or about one-third of a mile.
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Phoenix eyes (丹凤眼): A type of eye shape in East Asian beauty standards, characterized by being long with the outer corners slanting upwards. It’s often associated with beauty and astuteness.
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Wooden fish (木鱼): A percussion instrument made of wood, often used by Buddhist monks when chanting sutras. “Striking a wooden fish” implies living a monastic life.