Commanding the Universe: Jiangzhu and Shenying

Ming Ying strolled leisurely through the flower hall, wondering whether to plant more peonies or tree peonies in front of the veranda. Her eldest daughter came rushing in, eyes red, and declared fiercely, “If I don’t saw that Ji fellow in half this time, I’ll write my name backward.” Ming Ying coughed dryly. And what would writing your name backward do? You’d still be called Da Ya. She looked up and saw the clouds disperse. She remembered that day, when the wind swept away the thin clouds and the moon vanished, and she was drugged and sent out of the Forbidden City. As she drifted toward sleep, she felt cool jade fingers brush her cheek. Someone murmured hoarsely, trying to comfort her: “One day, she’ll understand how good His Majesty was to her.” For decades afterward, the realm flourished, but to her, life was unfinished and the nights endless. How could she ever understand that kindness?