There is an interesting story circulating in Beijing. It is said that when Mr. Liu, a wealthy family in the capital, married his eleventh concubine, he married her with the ceremony of a real wife - an eight-carriage sedan chair with a phoenix crown and a rosy veil. The daughter of the Liu family was a stranger. The daughter of the first wife rushed to the wedding hall, lifted the bride's red hijab in public, and angrily accused Mr. Liu of being an unfaithful, unjust and shameless person... It was talked about in the streets and alleys.
At this point, a nursery rhyme was widely circulated in Beijing: A girl from the Liu family, only twenty-eight years old, prevented her father from marrying a concubine, making her generous. As a result, everyone in the capital commented on Liu Jiamoru as an "unfilial daughter"
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Liu Moru: Since I was a child, I've known that my father doesn't like my mother, so I've never called her dad. My mother waited year after year, watching the plum blossoms in Zangdongzhai finish blooming and withering...
When I was five years old, the plum blossoms bloomed particularly brilliantly, and the fragrance hovered throughout the Zangdongzhai. My mother smiled faintly. That was the most beautiful time I saw my mother smile, but I knew her heart was dead.
When I was sixteen, my mother told me never to believe a man's promise... I made a big fuss, but my mother said I was wrong.
When I was seventeen years old, I was wearing a bright red wedding dress, and I leaned close to my mother's ear: My mother's life is too sad, I don't want this, absolutely don't, I don't want to wait for someone all my life.