The Beast's Way Out - Chapter 4

Then, the day before my eighteenth birthday, an imperial edict crashed into our residence.

At a palace banquet, the Emperor had taken one look at my eldest sister and chosen her.

With a word that admitted no appeal, he appointed her a Zhaoyi, a rank of imperial consort, and ordered her to enter the palace immediately.

Father held the bright-yellow edict in both hands, trembling so hard he could barely keep hold of it. He collapsed to the floor and didn’t get up for a long time.

Mother wailed.

The servants knelt across the floor, not one daring to raise their head.

Before the New Year, the Emperor had suddenly fallen gravely ill, nearly dying. Somehow, he had recovered and regained his vigor.

Everyone in the residence had assumed the eminent monk’s words about Zhao and the moon shining aloft referred to the Crown Prince.

The Crown Prince was young, only three years older than my sister. He and my sister had already confessed their feelings to each other, and everyone inside and outside the palace considered their marriage a certainty.

Who could have known that the husband named in the edict would be the old Emperor himself?

The old Emperor was forty years older than my sister—older even than my father by a considerable margin.

I was furious enough to tear the edict apart.

My sister was such a wonderful person.

She put pretty flower hairpins in my hair, arranged it in the latest styles, and spread thick hand cream over my hands in winter, holding my cold-reddened hands and blowing warm breath onto them…

Someone as good as her—why should she marry an old man?

The palace was full of consorts prettier than her. Why wasn’t the Emperor satisfied?

My second brother cried too. He said that despite being a man with a whole set of healthy bones, all he could do was earn a little money. When it mattered, he couldn’t help at all.

My sister herself didn’t cry.

She wiped my tears with a handkerchief. Her fingertips were cool as she dabbed a little face cream onto my cheeks and spread it carefully.

“Jiang Li, this is the fate the eminent monk read all those years ago. People must believe in fate. I’m only going with the current. But you’re different. All I wish is for you to become a tiger in the mountains, a flood dragon in the sea, or a dragon in the sky.”

“Since your fate is already settled, my Jiang Li, become the fiercest, the most fearsome—make your time in this world count.”

I blinked. So even an eagle wasn’t the most powerful thing to become.

A tiger ruling the mountains, a flood dragon hiding in the sea, a dragon soaring through the nine heavens…

My little ambition had been nothing more than chasing over people’s heads to drop a turd on them.

The palace gave us two days. They would come for her after that.

The next day was my eighteenth birthday.

I began waiting as soon as midnight passed.

I lay on the windowsill, staring at the courtyard wall.

Qi Yao had said he would return when he turned eighteen.

What would he look like now?

Would he be tall and broad, his skin darkened by the sun?

Would that handsome face now bear a scar?

I waited until full daylight, until the sun climbed to the edge of the eaves, until Mother placed the jade hairpin marking my coming-of-age into my hair. The wall remained empty. Not a single figure appeared.

A corner of my heart felt hollow, but I had no time to dwell on it.

Mother ordered a maid to bring me a bowl of red-bean porridge.

The same kind as the bowl she had made when I was seven.

Only the taste was different.

That first bowl had been cooked by her own hands and sweetened with sugar.

This one had been made by a maid. The beans hadn’t been soaked long enough; they were hard between my teeth and grated against them.

Still, I swallowed every mouthful.

Then I had the same dream.

Someone cut open my chest and removed two bones, one from each side, placing them in my sister’s chest and my brother’s.

The pain drenched me in sweat. I wanted to scream, but no sound came out.

A curtain separated the inner room from the outer room. Mother was too busy watching my sister and brother wake, clutching their hands and crying with joy.

No one pulled back the curtain.

Only after my sister caught her breath and said, “Go see Jiang Li,” did anyone draw it aside.

I was already dead.

I floated in midair, looking down at my body on the bed. My face was gray-white, and blood had soaked through a huge patch of bedding.

Mother screamed and rushed over. Father staggered and knocked over a stool.

My sister covered her face and sobbed. My brother knelt on the floor, pounding it with his fist again and again.

I floated above them, cursing furiously.

That demon monk had lied!

He had said I would become a beast!

He had said I could become an eagle, a dog, or a tortoise!

I hadn’t even gotten the chance to become a beast. I had simply died!

I had been ready to become the tiger in the mountains, the flood dragon in the sea, or the dragon in the sky that my sister described.

And then I died.

What a rip-off.