The day I married into a Beijing family from rural Shandong, I held my brand-new household registration booklet and smiled all night.
When my husband was first arrested for gambling, I took our six-month-old baby to pick him up while my mother-in-law watched with cold indifference.
He wrote a blood oath and chopped off a finger, swearing he would quit gambling. Then he pretended to drive for Didi while continuing to gamble recklessly.
It was only when a creditor kicked down our door, holding a loan note that said “Wife to be surrendered in repayment,” that I finally understood the truth about this marriage.
My mother-in-law suddenly pointed at me and shrieked, “It's all your fault, you jinx!”
The baby in my arms suddenly burst into tears. I looked down as tears fell onto the note's bright red fingerprint.
The household registration booklet that had once made me deliriously happy now felt cold as ice in my pocket.
