When Shen Lingwei was five, her feet were broken. Her grandmother said it was for her own good.
Fourteen years later, she married into the Lin family. Her husband asked, “Do your feet hurt?” She said, “Not really.” For the next ten years, he slept in his study while she spent her nights alone.
Then a woman in Western dress, striding with confidence, pushed open the gate of the Lin family courtyard. Lu Qingyuan hadn't come to steal her husband. She had come for something else.
From a silver hairpin carved with orchids, a keepsake from her mother, Shen Lingwei pulled out a faded leaflet. Lu Qingyuan's hands trembled as she took an identical one from her sleeve.
Under the moonlight, they laid the two leaflets side by side.
“The harm of foot binding is worse than flood or fire. Bones broken, tendons torn, a lifetime of pain.”
The two women looked into each other's eyes. They weren't rivals, but sisters. They weren't fighting over a man, but for the chance to forge their own path.
They were going to escape.
