Chapter 21

The merry crowd heard a strange sort of laugh, and Madam Qiao came walking over from that side.

Madam Qiao couldn't see what she looked like, and in her heart still thought herself soft and lovely and gentle. In truth, the noodle soup on her face had set into a thin skin, wrinkled and shiny, so that she looked like an eighty-year-old crone with a face full of creases, and her hair was all one sticky mat — yet still she felt pretty inside, and came on dainty lotus steps to stand before Qi Qian'er and the old lady, forcing herself right in between them.

Without looking at the old lady, she first glanced back and gave a blink — meaning there were outsiders over there — and then made to take Qi Qian'er's hand... Qi Qian'er flung it off without ceremony, but Madam Qiao, all magnanimity, paid it no mind: "Qi Qian'er, now — how old is our old lady? She's old and muddled, and here you are carrying on right along with her?"

Turning to Qi Qian'er, she began blinking hard and said with a smile: "My child, my own darling treasure! Bless your filial heart — you've gone and promised away a whole mountain of gold in one breath, have you? You'll be the death of me! And no wonder — you're from a different sort of house, after all; look how well you talk, how you charm folk, see how you've got everyone laughing! From now on, keep it up just like this! This way's best of all! Everyone dotes on you — believe me, your days will turn out fine! Auntie guarantees it~ they~ they all love you to bits."

Madam Zhou and the others laughed at that and said together: "Quite so, quite so — we're very fond of her indeed."

Qi Qian'er said nothing, just watched her perform.

Seeing Qi Qian'er not smile, Madam Qiao rolled her eyes and blinked again: "The rest of us, now, we've little to do most days; when we're idle this lot of us often sit and work at our handicrafts together to pass the time. We're dull, clumsy-tongued folk, not clever with words like you — so, for the sake of our counting as your elders, won't you show us a little kindness from now on too? Won't you?

"And I tell you, when the time comes you mustn't turn up your nose at us! You just come along! No need to do a thing — you've got me! Just come and play, come and tell us your jokes and cheer us all up too, all right?"

This whole song-and-dance of hers left Meng Wanquan dumbfounded; he thought: this woman recovers fast — struck down only just now, and here she is up and about, all lively, cracking jokes.

He turned, puzzled, to look at Chang Lianfang — but Chang Lianfang was hiding behind a cart-shaft not far off, stock-still, pretending he wasn't there. A grown man had no business listening in on women's chatter; but it was livelier here than at his own home, and he had to hear more of it, so he could tell it all to Granny and his mother back home and give them a laugh too.

Madam Qiao was still going on over there: "...See how dear this young wife is — my Scabby's a lucky one, truly; the way she handles things, the way she talks, ordinary folk can't hold a candle to it. Me, I've a mean tongue, I'm no good at it — you don't know, just now I went and vexed the old lady, but in the blink of an eye~ look at that! It's you who can do it, coaxing our old lady so~ so happy! Qi Qian'er, now, however happy we are~ it's late in the day; whatever fun's to be had, there's plenty of time ahead for us! Isn't that right? Take your auntie's word — let's hurry back now! Eh? It's getting late, and I've made noodle soup for you at home already, keeping warm on the fire..."

Meng Wanquan was startled: the noodle soup — wasn't that supposed to be for me to eat? How's it been promised out all over again?

Seeing the girl wouldn't take up her cue, Madam Qiao grew anxious, and turned warmer, fonder, more loving still: "Child, you've worn yourself out today! Our family will mark it down as a great service of yours; when your uncle's back tomorrow, you watch how I praise you! Today, now, you needn't see to a thing — just eat your fill, and I'll have it all arranged proper for you... Come, come, Wanquan, trouble yourself a moment — find me some hands to help us carry all this into~ the old lady's room! Delay any longer and it'll be night; in the pitch dark you'll see nothing, and we can't lose so much as one piece... this is our family's property, after all!!"

As she reached the end her voice rose, and she cast a sidelong look at the women pawing over this and that... then turned her head back to Qi Qian'er with a magnanimous, kindly smile.

But she couldn't hold that kindly look for long before the smile dropped. Here she'd gone to all this trouble, and yet the girl across from her — why wasn't she giving her a friendly face?

Madam Qiao and Qi Qian'er looked each other in the eye, and where their gazes met, sparks flew up at once.

This... this didn't seem right!

All around fell gradually quiet; Chang Lianfang, enjoying the show, slowly stood for a look, and thought: mm~ this is bad, that familiar smell in the air!

He had to be off. From boyhood he'd learned one lesson well at home: when Granny and his mother went at it up on the roof it was nothing much, but once they came down, a quarrel always wanted a judge — and being that judge was the worst post under heaven; whoever touched it was burnt to ash, not a scrap left to pick up.

In short, running was the right move! He hurried over, paid his respects to the old lady, arranged the men, and — as if in flight — leapt on his horse and galloped off.

The soldiers driving and guarding the carts, at the young general's word, likewise set down what they were doing, one and all, and trotted off together into the sick-and-wounded camp over there to keep clear.

And so beside the carts there remained two clusters of people.

Meng Wanquan, unlucky enough not to get away, together with Qi Qian'er and the old lady, made one cluster; and facing them were all the aunties on good terms with Madam Qiao.

Qi Qian'er and Madam Qiao stood looking at each other, until someone, with no sense of the moment, blurted out: "What — what's all this? Everything was~ fine just now?"

"Hush..."

Madam Qiao sensed the girl had likely seen through her intent — but so what? Today she was determined to be the one in charge.

In their last lives the two of them had fought each other no fewer than thirty years, right up until at the end Qi Qian'er died, and Madam Qiao died too — call it neither of them winning.

This life, come back again, Qi Qian'er had made up her mind: leave me be and we're done; provoke me, and I'll flip the whole pot over, smash the bottom clean out of your earthenware crock — you can eat dirt!

Only yesterday she'd been thinking: if in two lifetimes she got tangled up all over again in needle-and-thread trifles and back-court squabbling, then she'd have come back for nothing!

She'd read so many books — the classics and histories, the masters and anthologies, added to age after age; and the truths all those generations of sages and worthies expounded had nothing whatever to do with the inner court. What she'd fight for from now on was the family's name and standing, the dignity her child would carry out into the world, the respect that lies deep in people's hearts. A person lives for face; money is only a tool for buying face with.

But before she could win any of that, she had to raise a memorial arch that no one dared touch — and she didn't mind making a blood-offering of Madam Qiao today to consecrate her banner; Madam Qiao had come charging up on her own account anyhow.

The sages say the beauty of a thing lies in its being just right; Madam Qiao, unable to hold herself in, had leapt up too high — which made it all the more perfect.

The Madam Qiao of now was not yet the Madam Qiao who, at the first sight of wealth and rank, would set to honing herself and grow, bit by bit, watertight.

She was still just the Madam Qiao who controlled those around her by nothing but human nature, human feeling, human reason. Well and good — you have your reasons, I have my rites; and since you've popped out this early, I'll settle you along with the rest. If I don't pin you down for good in one go, I'm afraid you'll remember the eating and forget the beating.

Madam Qiao stared hard at Qi Qian'er. To deal with this fifteen-year-old chit by her own "reason" was all too easy: she was the elder, born to the upper place; putting the girl in her place should be as simple as reaching out and grabbing her.

The girl was a fool as well: wealth, and she dared flaunt it — did she really not know how fearful a thing that was? It was like a beautiful woman coming to a village: whether she was chaste or not made no difference; so long as she outshone the rest, the women would do her in first, before the men ever got their hands on her.

Besides, the old lady was well on in years; it was Chen Siniu who was head of the house — and she, smooth talker that she was, knew that better than anyone. What she couldn't fathom was what the girl was thinking, to go and lean on the old woman of all people.

What use was there in currying favor with her? The old crone was all but ready to breathe her last.

Madam Qiao's mind was busy with a great deal.

But Qi Qian'er didn't wait for her.

And so the crowd heard the young wife speak up first, calling out: "Madam Qiao! You've had a great deal to say just now!"

At the words Madam Qiao felt a flash of delight, but put on a look of forbearance, and, her voice pressing down her anger, demanded: "Scabby's wife! You're newly come, granted, and with a few words you've coaxed the old lady clean out of her senses, even stayed out last night — well, that's nothing much. I'm not silver-tongued like you, spinning boasts that sound as good as true; you juniors don't know propriety, so we elders will teach you, little by little.

"But what did you just call me? Fine! Fine! What fine breeding! I'd meant, seeing you newly arrived, to give way to you and treat you warmly, and you'd come to know the sort of person I am in time... Everyone, just listen to what she calls me! 'Madam Qiao' — is that for you to call me?"

Qi Qian'er was just about to speak when she felt the old lady about to leap up again, so she caught hold of her, and said, her voice neither sad nor glad, neither angry nor resentful: "Madam Qiao — I have a marriage contract and you don't, so you're a lowly concubine of our house. If I don't call you 'Madam Qiao,' then what am I to call you?"

Madam Qiao flew into a fury on the spot and cried: "What did you say?!"

"I have my parents' command and you don't. Madam Qiao, you're a lowly slave-woman not fit even to drink the principal wife's tea!"

This — this wasn't right? This wasn't the script she'd counted on! How was it the girl's words weren't like the other women's of the camp at all?

Madam Qiao had long since prepared herself: what she'd do if the girl made a scene with the old lady; what she'd do if the girl flatly refused; what she'd do if the girl called on Meng Wanquan and the rest to back her; what she'd do if the girl threatened to live or die over it!

Wasn't the girl supposed to be screaming herself hoarse, wrangling it out with her? This chit~ this lowly slut — what crooked nonsense was she talking? She'd been living perfectly well as Chen Siniu's woman — how did that make her a concubine?

Madam Qiao, enraged, shrieked as though she couldn't hold it in: "You — you, you ill-bred thing, what nonsense are you spouting!"

Qi Qian'er laughed lightly: "I have my upbringing — just not for you. If I'm to show respect, it'll be to the proper principal wife my Fourth Uncle would marry in by his parents' command and a matchmaker's word, by the three writs and six rites, entered in the ancestral register and recorded at the yamen! What have you got? Bring it out! Let me see?"

What could the Madam Qiao of this time understand? She didn't even know which way the yamen gate faced. Back at her first marriage her parents had seen to it all... but now, hearing Qi Qian'er say this, many long-ago things from that first marriage came floating back, one by one.

True enough — she and Chen Siniu had none of these things; but wasn't that because of all the turmoil, with fighting everywhere?

She panicked, and said loudly to Qi Qian'er: "I can't make you see sense — when your Fourth Uncle comes back tomorrow, I'll be sure to tell him to teach you a lesson; the old Chen house must never marry in a home-wrecker like you..."

Qi Qian'er laughed coldly: "Whether I'm a home-wrecker or not is Chen Scabby's headache — what's it to a collateral uncle's household like yours? The family's already split; you reach a good deal too far!"

Madam Qiao sneered: "Who said the family's split?"

The old lady had been itching to speak all along, and at this she thrust her head in: "The family split the night the old man died — go ask Siniu! And even if the old man never said so, I'm telling you now: split! I say so! Split!!"

She had to live with her granddaughter-in-law now — or else dash herself dead.

Qi Qian'er at once tilted her face and gave the old lady a sweet smile, and the old lady returned a honeyed smile of her own.

The two of them done smiling, Qi Qian'er pressed her attack on Madam Qiao: "I have my parents' command, and you don't!"

Madam Qiao raged: "I do!"

"Nonsense — Granny says she won't have it! A married woman belongs to her husband's house, not her mother's. Once you've married out, your own parents' home becomes your 'outer family' — outsiders to you. And why outsiders? Because by law, when a crime brings punishment down on a whole family's kin, it falls on the husband's side alone; your parents' house wouldn't share your fate at all. So any 'parents' command' of theirs ranks below my Granny's word!"

Here Qi Qian'er turned to the old lady and said: "Granny, let me tell you — by rite and law, if a daughter-in-law of yours is unfilial — I don't mean Madam Qiao, Madam Qiao's no one of our house, I'm sure I don't know what she counts as — but at any rate, if you're not satisfied with a daughter-in-law of yours, then within the seven grounds for divorce, you may put a wife aside in your son's stead!"

For the old lady a door onto the whole world swung open at once, and she asked, delighted: "Truly?"

Madam Qiao screamed herself hoarse: "She's talking rot!"

Qi Qian'er gave the old lady a firm nod, then turned and flung a blade at Madam Qiao: "Madam Qiao, being loud does you no good. I have a matchmaker's word — you~ don't!"

"Rot!! Filthy rot, you! Go out and ask around — who doesn't know I'm Chen Siniu's wife!"

"That of yours counts for nothing. I have a marriage contract — you don't have that either."

Madam Qiao shook with rage and could bear it no longer; she sprang up and roared: "It's only a marriage contract! When Siniu's back he'll just write you one!"

Qi Qian'er, not the least bit angry, calmly and flatly loosed a thunderbolt: "Don't have him write me one — what would I want your marriage contract for? But my Fourth Uncle can't write you one either."

Madam Qiao's chest heaved violently with fury, and she said, snorting: "You — you wish! Why can't he write me one? I've borne him a daughter, and I've waited on his old mother three years! Three years!"

Qi Qian'er rolled her eyes: "Whether I'm dreaming or not, I won't tell you. I'll just teach you a thing for your own good — for Xique'er's sake, call it saving your skin, too; no need at all to thank me for it!"

Madam Qiao, panicked and shaken, could no longer get a word out; choked with rage, her whole body twitching, she forced out a single word: "Pah~!"

She was on the point of fainting.

Qi Qian'er bared her teeth, tsk-tsked, and then said: "How is it you don't know good from bad? A woman of thirty-odd? Someone's good to you and you won't take it kindly — well, never mind. For Xique'er's sake I'll tell you: in the laws of every dynasty there ever was, no woman ever dared marry again without first getting a writ of divorce from her former husband's family. So what does that make you? Forever calling yourself my Fourth Aunt — why, even the Emperor's own princess wouldn't dare take one woman to two husbands, and here you are, bold as brass!"

The crowd around exploded on the instant, a buzz of talk breaking out; and then everyone realized that although second marriages were common among the dependents of this camp, a case like Madam Qiao's — where the first-nest husband was still alive — was the only one.

True enough — if yours was a mutual parting, then you remarry with a deed of separation in hand; and if you were cast out, then at least you remarry with a writ of divorce — no?

Now Madam Qiao had always said her first husband was a base, shameless man who, to save his own skin, had handed her over to Chen Siniu in exchange for his life. She hadn't wanted it, of course; but the man knelt and begged her, and there was nothing for it — to save him she'd gone along with Siniu.

In the past, when she told this tale, everyone would sympathize and comfort her together; even... they pitied and envied her both.

What did these women understand? At most they knew that in the opera tales, only a peerless beauty was fit to be offered up to a king.

That was just the point of the story Madam Qiao told: that she was well-born, virtuous and good, and a beauty besides.

Trembling, Madam Qiao pointed all around and said: "Go out and ask around — right here in this camp, every last one of them, which of them ever went through all those things you talk of... eh?!"

Qi Qian'er knew these women far too well, and laughed to hear it: "Once a person's dead, that's the end of everything — you think everyone's like you?"

Someone raised her voice, as if to vouch for herself: "That's right! My man starved to death long ago, my children gone too — when a person dies, the account's cleared. We haven't those documents, but we can go and make them up later; Madam Qiao, though, she's different — she really doesn't count even as a concubine."

A muffled thunderclap came rolling down on the crown of Madam Qiao's head. Was there no way out for her now? This wasn't right — this wasn't the course she'd laid out for herself at all!

Madam Qiao's regret was past all bearing; she truly could never have imagined she'd back herself into such a corner.

She'd always been so pleased with herself, looking down on these dirt-legged Chens, a houseful of good-for-nothings; she'd hardly had to play a trick or two before the bit of property those few Chen captains brought in was all in her hands.

Now what was she to do? She stood there racking her brains for a way out — everything gone, everything turned to ash. How vicious this person across from her was — was she trying to drive her to her death?

She began to cry — this time she was truly crying — and Madam Qiao shouted: "It's only those goods, isn't it? I don't believe Siniu will just stand by and let you bully me. You wait and see!"

Qi Qian'er, all regret on her face: "No need to wait — you can forget it for the rest of your life."

At Qi Qian'er's words Madam Qiao suddenly found some strength again. Yes, yes — the three writs and six rites she didn't have, but she had Chen Siniu; whatever she wanted, Chen Siniu would give her.

Seeing Madam Qiao steady herself again, Qi Qian'er promptly stuck the knife in: "I know exactly what you're thinking in there."

Madam Qiao shot her a look: "Are you a ghost wearing a human skin, that you know what I'm thinking?"

Qi Qian'er nodded: "Those notions of yours are no use. Let me tell you — even if you went through every rite you please, the old lady is the mother-in-law, and she won't have it! So your name's not right and your word won't stand! You can't be entered on the clan register! The clan won't own you, and I, a collateral nephew's wife, truly needn't spare you any face."

Off to the side the old lady was radiant beyond measure; venting her spite, she spat hard at Madam Qiao and, grinning ferociously, said: "Pah! Even if I drop dead — I won't have it!"

It was over — utterly over.

Madam Qiao knew she and the old lady could never be reconciled in this life; and if that was so — if she had to die, then she'd drag the old lady down to die with her.

Madam Qiao gave a shriek and lunged, clawing straight for Qi Qian'er's face.

As if Madam Qiao could get a scratch in? Qi Qian'er's hand shot out and seized her — caught both her wrists and twisted them together in one grip. And such strength as she had: dainty Madam Qiao was crying with pain in an instant, shrieking: "Let go, you're hitting me, how dare you — I'm your elder!!"

Qi Qian'er, too, stared blankly at her own hand, and only after a while said: "So this~ is all you~ amount to, then!"

"Help, I'm being set upon, let me go~ I'm Chen Siniu's wife, help, help, they're bullying me..."

Madam Qiao pleaded piteously, looking pitiful in the extreme.

In the old days the women over there would long since have rushed over; but today the scene was too frightening, and — seeking safety, shunning harm — the whole group huddled together for warmth, trembling like a brood of rain-soaked chicks.

Go up and court death? What was that, over there — the Thunder God's own daughter come down to earth, the Thunderbolt Lady herself arrived; there was truly no provoking her.

Looking at the weeping Madam Qiao, Qi Qian'er felt several knots in her heart come loose; she curled her lip and let go: "Heh~ still playing the elder? You, another man's wife, come to my house to lord it and throw your weight about? In my house, never mind concubine — you don't even count as a kept mistress, and you'd take it ill that I call you 'Madam Qiao'? Then what am I to call you? Auntie? Dream on!

"Bad as my Scabby may be, he's still a seventh-grade officer, and I'm the proper mistress of an official's household! You, born a merchant's daughter, don't rank even as a commoner — what standing do you put on airs with, against me!

"Bad as my Fourth Uncle may be, he's still a seventh-grade Resolute Captain; and you're nothing but a plaything he traded a bit of money for, to pass the time!"

Madam Qiao plumped down on the ground, every hope gone to ash.

Yes — just as you once called me a plaything bought for ten strings of cash, all the things you did to me back then, today I've paid you back in one lot; and now we're square.

Too vicious — the words were too venomous; the onlookers listening were struck dumb with fright.

This girl before them must never be crossed; come what may, from now on they'd give her a wide berth. This was no household spat — one move from her and she'd all but shoved a person to the end of the road.

Madam Qiao was ruined for this life.

All around was dead silence; the sky grew darker and darker, and at some point, without anyone's noticing, two torches flared up at the mouth of the sick-and-wounded camp.

"What's going on over there? What's all this commotion?"

A voice came, gentle as water; the crowd looked toward it — and there, without anyone knowing when, a plain carriage had come to a stop outside the camp; nor did anyone know how long it had been there, or how much it had overheard.

The old driver set down a step-stool, and the carriage curtain was drawn aside by a little maid of eleven or twelve in scallion-green cloth.

She hopped down and reached a hand toward the curtain: "Madam."

The curtain lifted, and a woman just past thirty stepped gracefully down on the little maid's hand: fair-skinned, with fine brows and fine eyes, kindly to look upon; her hair dressed in a loose-templed side-bun, a plain kingfisher-feather begonia hairpin set in it; wearing a flower-medallion shoulder-cape and a narrow-sleeved, standing-collared jacket of grade-blue, and below, a dark-green skirt of pale floral pleats.

Everyone was struck dumb at the sight.

Stepping down, the woman looked about her; she paid no heed to the conspicuous Qi Qian'er, but went straight up to Xique'er, who was cried out and limp, and made to pick the little one up.

Madam Zhou, who was holding Xique'er, was dumbfounded.

As the woman went to take her, Madam Zhou even said: "She's grubby — don't let her dirty your clothes."

The woman smiled, pleased: "It's fine — no child is dirty."

That said, she took Xique'er, soothing her, and came before Qi Qian'er.

Qi Qian'er and this one looked each other in the eye, and after a long moment, according to their ages, the two of them, in a kind of uncanny rhythm, began together to make each other the curtsy of equals.

"Meeting for the first time — peace to you, elder sister."

"Meeting for the first time — peace to you, younger sister."

Even the pitch of their voices and the rhythm were exactly alike. Never mind that the woman held a child in her arms — her rhythm didn't falter by a hair.

The people around were dumbstruck; from this moment they suddenly saw that some people were, in truth, not the same as themselves — a difference not in what they ate or drank or wore, but~ in the very soul and blood.

The woman smiled and asked Qi Qian'er: "I wonder which family the younger sister is from?"

Qi Qian'er laughed lightly: "No fine lineage — just an ordinary scholar-farming household: Huo Manor, fifteen li outside Qingfeng, keepers of an estate for the old dynasty these three hundred years. And elder sister?"

This one laughed lightly too: "Much the same — luckless creatures of the old dynasty, rolling out medicine-pills in the Imperial Medical Bureau generation after generation. Only... my husband's surname is Cheng, and he serves here in this camp — a pill-roller too~ heh~."

From inside the awning-cart over there came a crisp little sound, and the woman's smile grew merrier still, her eyes vanishing to nothing, brows and eye-slits two crescent lines.

Qi Qian'er started a little to hear it: this infirmary camp would disband next year, and she'd never seen this woman.

At that she stepped back three paces and made a grave salute once more: "Forgive me — so it's Madam Cheng who's come."

Xique'er began to cry again, and Madam Cheng patted her a few times, then smiled and said to Qi Qian'er: "What great grudge is there? A countrywoman fleeing the war — it's no easy thing to have lived through it. She only coveted a little of your money; and this child's done you no wrong at all — why go and ruin her future?"

Qi Qian'er didn't explain, and saluted again: "It's late in the day; I'll take my leave now."

The woman paused a moment, then nodded: "Very well!"

That said, she stepped aside from the path and watched the young wife call her people, hail the carter, help her old lady up, and go off with all her things.

The women who'd come to watch the show, abashed and awkward now, slipped away one by one without a sound.

Madam Qiao looked at the woman; a bellyful of grievance, she'd meant to find someone to lean on and pour it out to — but alas, the woman seemed to find her distasteful, and passed Xique'er first to her own maid, and only then did the maid carry the child over to return her.

Madam Qiao took the child, and, unwilling to let the chance slip, called out after Qi Qian'er's example: "Ma— Madam Cheng..."

Her voice held tears, but the woman didn't so much as turn her head, and left Madam Qiao there in the shadows.

---

The child cried on, the sound of it receding; and when the woman got back into the carriage, there, of all things, sat Doctor Cheng, looking at her most helplessly and saying: "When did I ever marry you? How is it I don't know of it?"

His mouth said he didn't know of it, but his face was smiling.

At that Madam Cheng laughed lightly: "Ai-yo, junior — we're of the same teacher, after all — my maiden family's finished, and my husband's house won't have me back either, so out with it, be quick: will you keep me or not?"

Doctor Cheng, at a loss, shot her a glare: "When Wanquan's back I'll have him arrange a house for you; you can stay for the time being."

Madam Cheng laughed and, sitting down beside him, said in a low voice: "I have a writ of divorce."

Doctor Cheng burst out laughing: "You — from now on, keep out of that pack of women's affairs."

Madam Cheng lifted her chin, rather pleased with herself: "I only can't abide a child crying. Besides~ for a back-court matter, that was cutting a bit too deep."

Doctor Cheng sighed helplessly and pressed a hand to his forehead: "You — you've had no head on your shoulders since you were small. That Madam Qiao over there..." His voice paused, and he lowered it: "She's got just what she deserves! The old lady often comes to me on the quiet for medicine to clear bruised blood... From now on, a person like that — don't even give her a second look."

The woman was stunned in an instant; plainly, the low, gutter-bred, underhand tricks of a Madam Qiao were beyond anything she could imagine.

Her narrowed eyes suddenly went round as anything, and she looked at Doctor Cheng: "You mean—?"

Doctor Cheng nodded helplessly, an anger he couldn't hide on his face: "Yes. She beats the old lady in secret — and beats her where it can't be shown to anyone."

In a single instant the woman's face turned ferocious, and she wheeled about to go straight out; Doctor Cheng, in a great fluster, called after her: "Elder sister!!"