On Tomb-Sweeping Day, my sister-in-law, seven months pregnant, insisted on coming along to pay respects to our ancestors.
I advised her that the mountain path was steep and rough, and that she should stay home and rest.
Later, after she safely gave birth to a baby girl, she threw a pot of scalding hotpot at me.
She blamed me for stopping her from visiting the ancestral graves, claiming I had angered our ancestors and caused her son to be born a daughter.
My brother was afraid she would be held responsible, so he simply set me on fire and burned me alive.
My heartbroken parents, unaware of the truth, devoted themselves to caring for my sister-in-law and her child. Years later, she drove them out of the house, leaving them to freeze to death.
Only as they lay dying did they hear my sister-in-law mock them, saying she had killed their daughter while they had looked after her like lovesick fools.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on Tomb-Sweeping Day.
Spoiled by my parents, my sister-in-law sneered at me: “I'm carrying the legitimate heir. Why can't I go? You're the outsider here, aren't you?”
My parents, who had always bowed to her every whim, flew into a rage. “Shut your dog mouth! The Qing dynasty fell ages ago!”
Turns out my parents had been reborn too.
