On the day I got married to the enemy who killed my father, the wedding candles were shining brightly, but his hand that raised the hijab was bleeding.
He smiled and said, "Madam, please give me guidance for the rest of your life."
I laughed too, the dagger in my sleeve pressed against my forearm, the chill seeping into my bones.
The newly acquired Ninth Aunt Shen, Governor Shen of the entire capital, was very lucky. The daughter of a bankrupt merchant actually won the exclusive favor of the Governor. Only I know that in the courtyard of this "only favorite" are buried the sounds of the gunshots from which he personally executed eleven of my family members three years ago. I married him just to wait for an opportunity to use his blood to sacrifice my entire Shen family.
Until that night, in the secret room of his secret room, I found a yellowed photo of a woman who looked exactly like me, with his handwriting on the back:
"My wife, who died young, was made to look like you."
