The people in the village laughed at me for marrying a consumptive man and becoming the stepmother of two troubled people.
They don't know that my left hand can touch bones and determine life and death, and that the space in my right hand is filled with medicine.
The belle from the village next door was showing off her newly acquired Zhenliang, so I turned around and pulled out apocalyptic antibiotics from the space to save the commune secretary's mother.
The day my husband's family forced me to sign the divorce papers, I threw out the account book they had used to secretly sell my medicinal materials.
The husband, who had been coughing up blood, suddenly overturned the troublemaker with one hand and said with cold eyes: "Who will try to touch my wife again?"
At night he had a fever and rubbed my neck: "I'm pretending to be sick... Can you please stop exposing it?"
I licked his Adam's apple: "What a coincidence, I was just pretending."
