Concubine

A gust of wind lifted the gauze sedan curtain, and I saw a two-foot-long gatehouse, high walls, and carved beams and painted pillars. So, is this my safe place? Sighing softly: I finally reached this point. "Miss, we're here." Stepping off the sedan chair, you walked around the landscape wall amid the creaking of the vermilion-lacquered wooden doors. You could see the winding corridor in front of you, with its solid wooden stilts and stone foundations, finely carved window panes, patterned skirt boards, vermilion square columns, pink-green siding, and a small and exquisite winding path to the back garden. He treated me well and gave me such a luxurious place. And I will be his concubine from now on. That word "concubine" hurts my heart so much.