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I reached into my jacket and pulled out Snow Flower’s package. It was our fan, wrappedin cloth. I opened it, anticipating the happy words she would have written. My eyes scanned the folds until I saw her message: Two birds in flight—hearts beating as one. The sun shines upon their wings, drenching them with healing warmth. The earth spreadsbelow them—all theirs. In the garland at the top of the fan, two small birds soaredtogether: my husband and me. I loved that Snow Flower had placed my husband in our dearest possession.

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Looking down, my tassels swinging with the movement of the bearers, I saw she hadembroidered a letter to me in our secret language to celebrate this most special moment.

The letter began in the traditional opening to a bride:

I feel knives in my heart as I write to you. We promised each other that we would neverbe a step apart, that a harsh word would never pass between us.

These words came from our contract, and I smiled at the memory. I thought we wouldhave our whole lives together. I never believed this day would come. It is sad that wecame into this life wrong—as girls—but this is our fate. Lily, we have been like a pair ofmandarin ducks. Now everything changes. In the coming days you will learn things aboutme. I have been restless and filled with apprehension. In my heart and in my mouth I havebeen weeping, thinking you will no longer love me. Please know that whatever you thinkof me, my opinion of you will never change.

Snow Flower

Can you imagine how I felt? Snow Flower had been very quiet these past weeks, becauseshe’d been concerned that I would no longer love her. But how could that be? In myflower-sitting chair on my way to my husband, I knew nothing would ever change myfeelings for Snow Flower. I had a terrible sense of foreboding and wanted to yell to thebearers to take me home so that I could ease my laotong’s fears.

But then we arrived at Tongkou’s main gate. Firecrackers spit and popped; the bandcla ed, tooted, and drummed their instruments. People unloaded my dowry. Thesething

ngngs had to be taken straightaway to my new home so my husband could change intothe wedding clothes I’d made for him. Then I heard a terrible but familiar sound. It wasthat of a chicken having its neck cut. Outside my flower-sitting chair, someone spatteredthe chicken’s blood on the ground to ward off any evil spirits that might have arrived withme.

At last my door opened, and I was helped out by a woman regarded to be the head of thevillage. The actual head woman was my mother-in-law, but for this purpose it was thewoman in Tongkou with the most sons. She led me to my new home, where I steppedover the threshold and was presented to my in-laws. I knelt before them, touching myhead to the ground three times. “I will obey you,” I said. “I will work for you.” Then Ipoured tea for them. After this, I was escorted to the wedding chamber, where I was leftalone with the door open. I was now just moments away from meeting my husband. I hadbeen waiting for this since the first time Madame Wang came to my house to see my feet,yet I was totally flustered, agitated, and confused. This man was a total stranger, so I wasnaturally curious about him. He would be the father of my children, so I was anxiousabout how that business was going to happen. And I had just received a mysterious letterfrom my old same and I was consumed with worry for her.

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I heard people move a table to bar the door. I tilted my head just so, my tassels parted,and I saw my in-laws stack my wedding quilts on the table and place two cups of wine— one tied with green thread, the other with red thread, then both of them tied together— on top of the pile. My husband entered the anteroom. Everyone cheered. This time I didnot try to peek. I wanted to be as conventional as I could in this first meeting. From hisside of the table, he pulled the red thread. From my side, I pulled the green thread. Then he jumped up on the table right onto the quilts and leaped into the room. With that action we were officially married.

What could I tell about my husband in the first instant that we stood side by side? I couldsmell that he had made a general cleaning of his body. By looking down I could see thatthe shoes I’d made for him were handsome on his feet and that his red wedding trousers were the exact right length. But the moment passed, and we moved on to Teasing andGetting Loud in the Wedding Chamber. My husband’s friends burst in, unsteady on theirfeet and feeble in their words from too much drink. They gave us peanuts and dates so we would have many children. They gave us sweets so we would have a sweet life. But they didn’t just hand a dumpling to me like they did to my husband. No! They tied thedumpling with a string and dangled it just above my mouth. They made me jump for it,making sure I never reached my goal. All the while, they made jokes. You know the kind.My husband would be as strong as a bull tonight, or I would be as submissive as a lamb,or my breasts looked like two peaches ready to burst the fabric of my jacket, or my husband would have as many seeds as a pomegranate, or if we used a particular position we would be guaranteed a first son. This is the same everywhere—low-class talkpermitted on the first night of any marriage anywhere. And I played along, but inside Iwas growing more frantic.

I had been in Tongkou for hours. Now it was late at night. Outside on the street, villagers were drinking, eating, dancing, celebrating. A new round of firecrackers was set off,signaling everyone to go home. At long last, Madame Wang closed the door to thewedding chamber and my husband and I were alone.

He said, “Hello.”

I said, “Hello.”

“Have you eaten?”

“I’m not supposed to eat for another two days.”

“You have peanuts and dates,” he said. “I won’t tell anyone if you want to eat them.”

I shook my head and the little balls on my headdress shook and the silver pieces chimedprettily. My tassels parted and I saw that his eyes were cast down. He was looking at my feet. I blushed. I held my breath, hoping to still the tassels so he wouldn’t glimpse theemotions on my cheeks. I didn’t move and neither did he. I was sure he was still

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examining me. All I could do was wait.do was wait.

Finally, my husband said, “I’ve been told you’re very pretty. Are you?” “Help me with my headdress and find out for yourself.”

This came out more tartly than I intended, but my husband just laughed. A few moments later, he set the headdress on a side table. He turned back to face me. We were perhaps a meter apart. He searched my face and I boldly searched his. Everything Madame Wang and Snow Flower had said about him was true. He bore no pockmarks or scars of any kind. He was not as dark-skinned as Baba or Uncle, which told me that his hours in thefamily fields were few. He had high cheekbones and a chin that was confident but notimpudent. An unruly shock of hair fell across his forehead, giving him a carefree look. Hiseyes sparkled with good humor.

He stepped forward, took my hands in his, and said, “I think we could be happy, you andI.”

Could a Yao nationality girl of seventeen hope for better words? Like my husband, I saw a golden future before us. That night, he followed all the correct traditions, even removingmy bridal shoes and putting on my red sleeping slippers. I was so accustomed to Snow Flower’s gentle touch that I can’t really describe how I felt having his hands on my feet,except that this act seemed far more intimate to me than what came next. I didn’t know what I was doing, but neither did he. I just tried to imagine what Snow Flower would have done if she were under that strange man instead of me.

on the second day of my marriage, I rose early. I left my husband sleeping and steppedout into the hall. You know that feeling when you are sick with worry? This is how I’d feltfrom the moment I’d read Snow Flower’s letter, but I couldn’t do anything about it—notduring my wedding, last night, or even now. I had to do my best to follow the prescribedcourse until I saw her again. But it was hard, because I was hungry, exhausted, and my body hurt. My feet were tired and sore from so much walking these last few days. I was uncomfortable in another place too, but I tried to blot out these things as I made my way to the kitchen, where a servant girl about ten years old sat on her haunches, apparentlywaiting for me. My own servant girl—no one had told me about that. People in Puweididn’t have servants, but I recognized what she was because her feet had not been bound.Her name was Yonggang, which means brave and strong like iron. (This would prove tobe true.) She had already built a fire in the brazier and hauled water to the kitchen. All Ihad to do was heat the water and take it to my in-laws so they could wash their faces. Ialso made tea for everyone in the household, and when they came to the kitchen I pouredit without spilling a drop.

Later that day, my in-laws sent another round of pork and sweet cakes to my family. The Lus held a big feast in their ancestral temple, yet another banquet where I was notallowed to eat. Before everyone, my husband and I bowed to Heaven and Earth, my in-laws, and the Lu family ancestors. Then we passed through the temple, bowing to

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everyone who was older than we were. They, in turn, gave us money wrapped in redpaper. Then— back to the wedding chamber.han we were. They, in turn, gave us money wrapped in redpaper. Then— back to the wedding chamber.

The next day, the third of a marriage, is the one that all brides wait for, because the third-day wedding books that family and friends have made are read. But by now all I couldthink about was Snow Flower and that I would see her at the event.

Elder Sister and Elder Brother’s wife arrived, bringing the books and food I was finallallowed to eat. Many women from Tongkou joined the females of my husband’s family

yy toread the words, but neither Snow Flower nor her mother came. This was beyond mycomprehension. I was deeply hurt . . . and scared by Snow Flower’s absence. There I wasat what is considered the happiest of all wedding rites, and I couldn’t enjoy it. Mysanzhaoshu contained all the usual lines about my family’s misery now that I would nolonger be with them. At the same time, they extolled my virtues and repeated phrasessuch as If only we could persuade that worthy family to wait a few years before takingyou, or It is sad we are now separated, while entreating my in-laws to be lenient andteach me their family customs with patience. Snow Flower’s sanzhaoshu was also what Iexpected, incorporating her love of birds. It began, The phoenix mates the golden hen, amatch made in heaven. Again, the usual sentiments, even from my laotong.

Truth

if circumstances had been normal, on the fourth day after my wedding I would have goneback home to my family in Puwei, but I had long planned to go straight to Snow Flower’shouse for her Sitting and Singing month. Now that I was close to seeing her again, I wasmore anxious than ever. I dressed in one of my good everyday outfits, a water-green silkjacket and pants embroidered with a bamboo pattern. I wanted to make a favorableimpression not only on anyone I passed in Tongkou but also on Snow Flower’s family,whom I had heard so much about over these many years. Yonggang, the servant girl, ledme through Tongkou’s alleyways. She carried my clothes, embroidery thread, cloth, andthe third-day wedding book I had prepared for Snow Flower in a basket. I was happy forYonggang’s guidance yet uncomfortable with her company. She was one of many things Iwould have to get used to. Tongkou was far bigger and more prosperous than Puwei. Thealleyways were clean, with no chickens, ducks, or pigs wandering freely. We stoppedbefore a house that looked exactly how Snow Flower had described it—two stories,peaceful and elegant. I had not been there long enough to know the village’s customs, butone thing was exactly the same as in Puwei. We did not yell out greetings or knock toannounce our arrival. Yonggang simply opened the main door to Snow Flower’s houseand stepped inside.

I followed right behind and was immediately assailed by a strange odor, which combinednight soil and rotting meat with an overlay of something sickeningly sweet. I had no ideawhat the source of that could be, except that somehow it seemed human. My stomachroiled, but my eyes rebelled even more, refusing to accept what they were seeing.

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The main room was much larger than the one in my natal home, but with far less furniture. I saw a table but no chairs. I saw a carved balustrade leading to the women’s chamber, but other than these few things—which showed in their craftsmanship a muchhigher quality than anything in my natal home—there was nothing. No fire, even. It was late autumn now, and cold. The room was dirty too, with food scraps on the floor. I saw other doors that must have led to bedrooms.

This was not only completely different from what a passerby might have expected from seeing the exterior, but it was vastly different from what Snow Flower had described. Ihad to be in the wrong place. By the ceiling were several windows, of which all but one had been sealed. A single ray of light from that window pierced the darkness. In thegloomy shadows, I spotted a woman squatting over a washbasin. She was dressed as a lowly peasant in ragged and dirty padded clothes. Our eyes met and she quickly avertedher gaze. Keeping her head down, she stood up into the shaft of light. Her skin was beautiful, as pale and pure as porcelain. She wrapped the fingers of one hand around those of her other hand and bowed.

“Miss Lily, welcome, welcome.” She kept her voice low, not out of deference for my newlyacquired higher status but at a timbre that seemed tamped down by fear. “Wait here. Iwill get Snow Flower.”

Now I was totally shocked. This had to be Snow Flower’s house. But how could it be? As the woman crossed the room to the stairs, I saw she had golden lilies, nearly as small as my own, which to my ignorant eyes seemed remarkable for someone from the servantclass.

I listened very hard as the woman addressed someone upstairs. Then my ears heard theimpossible—Snow Flower’s voice speaking in its most stubborn and argumentative tone.Shocked, that’s how I felt, utterly shocked. But beyond this one familiar sound, the house itself was eerily quiet. And in that silence I sensed something lurking like an evil spiritfrom the afterworld. My whole body resisted this experience. My skin crawled inrevulsion. I shivered in my water-green silk outfit, which I’d worn to impress Snow Flower’s parents but which offered no protection against the damp wind that blew through the window or the fear I felt to be in this strange, dark, smelly, scary place.

Snow Flower emerged at the top of the stairs. “Come up,” she called down to me.

I stood paralyzed, trying desperately to absorb what I was seeing. Something touched my sleeve and I started.