CAUTION: This email originated from outside of Penguin Random House. Please be extra cautious when opening file attachments or clicking on links. Kangzhu, Zengtai District AD 1061, Summer The first time Yu''er saw a jing, she was fourteen years old. They''d thought a fox was trapped beneath their wagon, but when Father pulled it free from the wheel, the little mud-coated creature transformed-and suddenly a lady was standing before them. Yu''er''s sister had once read stories to her of such women, half animal and half demon, gifted with the power to grant wishes to those who helped them, but no description or illustration could have captured the creature''s charm. She was slender and lovely, dressed in an elaborate fox-red hànfú made from layers of silk that billowed luxuriously around her. Watching her, Yu''er brimmed with envy. Until she met the woman''s eyes.
, she thought to herself. Bones of jade, flesh like ice. That was the phrase in those old stories, used to describe someone so beautiful they seemed inhuman. Underneath the jing''s cold stare, Yu''er recalled other, darker tales-where humans were cursed for angering them, everything they held dear ripped away until their lives were nothing but rot. "Take the girls inside," Mother told Father. There was a hunger in her voice that made Yu''er''s neck prickle with unease. Never one to disobey her, Father pulled Yu''er and her older sister Jiajia into the house, where they sat in tense silence until Mother returned, long minutes later. Her face was ruddy, her eyes wide with triumph.
"What happened?" Jiajia asked. "Are we to be cursed?" Yu''er whispered. Mother clicked her tongue, partly to comfort Yu''er, and partly to mark her annoyance. "We have come upon good fortune at last," Mother said, shooing them into their rooms. "Now go to bed." She and Father stayed up late talking, but no matter how closely the sisters pressed their ears to the door, they could not make out the hushed and feverish words their parents exchanged. Over the next few weeks, the house, which Mother always kept meticulously clean, fell into disarray. Their lessons stopped.
The girls had no chores and lounged about. Stranger still, Mother and Father stopped fighting. For months, Yu''er had listened to their angry whispers-curses against the Jiangnanese occupation that had taken Father''s job and rendered Kangzhu coin and goods worthless; arguments about Father finding new work; frantic negotiations in the night of what to sell and what to keep as money dwindled. But now, though their once-extravagant home echoed in its emptiness, the barbed words they''d so constantly exchanged melted away. Every day, Mother and Father would leave the house together with breathless anticipation, and come home at night almost giddy, with no word of where they''d been. One night, Yu''er found that her bedsheets had been stripped, her entire wardrobe neatly packed into a small bag on the floor next to a single folded blanket. "We''re going away for a while," Mother told Yu''er when she asked, but no matter how Yu''er and her sister begged, Mother shared no more. She only repeated: "It is a good thing," and packed them into their wagon.
The journey stretched from hours into days. The landscape changed. Houses grew sparse, the empty plains and open sky blocked by dense foliage. The road grew rocky, each bump sharp and bruising against their flesh. Neither of them had any sense of how much time had passed. It was around a fire one night that Mother finally spoke. "You''ve both been so patient," she cooed, motioning to Father. He laid a small piece of red fabric in each of their laps, spreading the tassels against their skirts like a fan.
A character was embroidered onto the square of cloth, accompanied by an intricately knotted cord. "I want you to guess where we are going," Mother said, beaming. "Shuangx," Yu''er read aloud. "Double happiness." Jiajia touched the end of the cord, combing through the tassels like she would hair. "It''s a symbol for weddings," Jiajia said. "Yes," said Mother. "We''re going to a wedding?" Yu''er asked.
Mother nodded, and Yu''er''s mouth watered as she thought of the food: of broiled fish in sticky sweet sauce, crispy fried shrimp, and tender meats. But Jiajia was frozen, fingers still tangled in the tassels. Yu''er watched as their parents watched Jiajia-Mother, sharp and hawklike; Father, resigned. A tense silence stretched between the four of them, one Yu''er did not understand. "It must be an important wedding," Yu''er said tentatively, desperate to break the silence, yet frightened to do so. "It''s the farthest we''ve ever traveled." "They are two very important weddings," Mother said. Her gaze had not left Jiajia''s face.
"Two weddings!" Yu''er exclaimed, clasping her sister''s hand. "Our weddings," Jiajia said sharply, yanking her hand back. Her fingers flew to the jade pendant around her neck, the one she never took off. She tugged at it like she always did when she was upset-once, twice, thrice. "Yes," Mother said. She pointed to the pieces of red fabric in their laps. "Those are wedding talismans. To bring you good fortune in your new home.
" "Why?" Jiajia demanded. "Why now?" She was gripping the pendant so hard that Yu''er could see her skin pinch in a hard, red line. "Do you remember the jing we saw trapped under our wagon?" Father asked. "Yes," Yu''er said, "you told us not to tell anyone about it." "The jing gave us a prophecy that after our daughters married, we would find riches beyond our wildest dreams. We would be richer than the governor, richer than the Jiangnanese family that bought the school. Richer even than the Great Lord himself." Father''s face changed as he spoke, his eyes turning feverishly bright, like pools of silver.
Yu''er wasn''t sure how rich the governor or the Jiangnanese were, but she knew of the Great Lord of the North, the last living Kangzhu leader. Would they eat from bowls carved of gold, as he was rumored to do? Would their chopsticks also be shaped from jewels? Yu''er could not wrap her mind around the idea of such wealth. "We have chosen good husbands for you," Mother said. "Jiajia, you''ve always wanted to travel and explore. Your husband lives in the mountains. It will be so different; an adventure." Mother turned to Yu''er, fervor in her voice. "And you, my darling, think of the babies you will have.
You always loved playing with dolls when you were younger. Imagine having a child that is flesh and blood." Mother wanted her to be excited for the wedding, Yu''er realized. Obediently, she gave Mother a small smile, but it felt tight against her face. "You sold us," Jiajia said. Mother straightened sharply. "Do you want us to starve?" she said coldly. "We stay together, we die together.
You think you are the only one to have sacrificed for this family? Your father came from nothing and married rùzhùi, relinquishing the right to give sons his family''s name. And I-I should have been a famous dancer, had I not had children. Renowned teachers came from faraway towns to recruit me as their apprentice, but I sacrificed it for my family to have sons. Instead, I wound up with you." Jiajia would not look up. She was now sucking on the jade pendant, a childish habit that Mother detested. Mother breathed harshly through her nostrils and yanked the pendant out of Jiajia''s mouth by the chain. "The Jiangnanese have robbed us of our money, our standing," Mother hissed.
"Now we must do what it takes to survive." A memory came to Yu''er then, bright as polished silver. Years ago, when the Jiangnanese had first arrived in their town, they''d banned all talk of magic and god-worship. Mother had turned their favorite merchant Lao Yang in to the Jiangnanese authorities, for he had refused to close up his little stall full of blasphemous magical tokens and idols. He''d always been kind to Yu''er and she''d been horrified when she learned what Mother had done. "You hate the Jiangnanese!" Yu''er had wailed accusingly. "Why would you do such a thing?" Mother had bent down to Yu''er, taken her by the shoulders. "Do you think cats are bad for hunting mice and birds?" "No.
" "But cats hurt those animals when they hunt them." Yu''er puckered her lips as she considered. "Yes," she said slowly, "but the cats need to eat to survive." "Exactly. People are not bad for doing what they need to survive. The Jiangnanese are a growing people, and they need land." "Are we mice and birds then?" Mother clutched Yu''er tighter, fingers digging into skin. "We also must do what we need to survive.
That means acting like a cat, always. No matter what we truly are." Yu''er watched as Jiajia crumpled her wedding talisman in her fist. In the firelight, Mother''s eyes reflected yellow, like a cat''s. In the wagon, Yu''er began chewing on the edges of her fingernails, pulling strips of skin off like she was shucking corn husks, her fingers growing angry and raw. Her eyes darted over to Jiajia, expecting to be chided, but Jiajia was busy tugging at the jade pendant around her neck, looking past Yu''er with unfocused eyes. "What do you think your husband.