This is a story about three women from Yimeng.
Three women, a jar of sauce, a handful of herbs, and a ledger.
The day Gan Zi came down the mountain, Zhen Xiang stood at the mouth of the valley, clutching a jar of sauce. When the lid cracked open, the bandits’ horses across from her dropped to their knees.
Xiang Cao was pinned to the stone floor of a bandit’s den. With three sentences, she bargained for her life: “I know herbs. I can treat wounds. If you kill me, there’ll be no one left on this mountain to tend your injuries.”
Gui Zhi tucked her father’s forged ledger under her clothes and ran eighty li through the night. She could see words speaking: true words sat steady as ink, while the edges of false ones glowed red. Clutching that ball of fire, she sought refuge in Houguyu.
The three women first met in Shimen Valley. None of them knew then that this meeting would bind their three lives together.
They didn’t know someone was watching them from the shadows. A drawing showed three circles: sauce, herbs, and a book. Beneath them was a line of small writing: “When the three women gather, the Gate of Heaven can be opened.”
They didn’t know what the Gate of Heaven was.
They only knew that in this chaotic age, they could rely only on themselves and the sisters by their side.
They were beautiful, and they could be gentle, but they didn’t know how to simper.
When it was time to work, they worked. When it was time to risk their lives, they did. And those they chose to protect, they would never let go, even if it cost them their lives.
