1. Thrown Out (Revised)

Two years ago—

In July, on a night of raging thunderstorm, the sky was split by lightning and the rain poured down as if from overturned buckets.

At the ancient residence of the Gu family in Yizhou, the Second Master Gu, notorious for his love of drink and his dissipated lifestyle, suddenly howled outside the gates in the middle of the night, “Open up! Someone, open the door!”

A peal of thunder ripped through the heavens, and lightning as bright as day illuminated Second Master Gu’s deathly pale face with stark clarity.

At that moment, he was cradling someone in his arms, their features obscured.

“Open the door!” When there was no response for some time, the short, stout Second Master Gu strode forward in anger and kicked the vermilion-carved door.

Thunder roared again, rain lashed his body with stinging force.

In the midst of the storm, the doors of the Gu family creaked open. The servant who answered, clad in a rain cape, could barely keep his eyes open against the wind and rain. He had no way to carry a lantern, relying instead on flashes of lightning to make out the Second Master’s figure.

“Second Master, who is this…?” the servant exclaimed in shock, hastily stepping aside.

Second Master Gu, carrying his charge, immediately stepped inside, hurrying around the entry screen and into the covered corridor that offered some shelter from the rain. Only then did the servant notice, following close behind, an elderly woman, drenched through.

There was no time to stop her; he could only watch as the old woman entered as well.

Lightning split the sky again, illuminating the night.

As the servant bent to close the door, his pupils contracted sharply—at his feet, the rainwater pooling on the threshold was stained crimson, as red as blood.

Tracing that bloody water, he saw the vivid scarlet stretching behind the screen, vanishing from view. Startled, the doorman’s face turned ashen; not daring to think further, he hurriedly shut the vermilion doors.

Only after returning to his quarters did Second Master Gu change into dry clothes. His hair still dripped when a page came to report that someone from the main house was on the way.

He took a deep breath, his rotund belly rising and falling, a sharp glint flickering in his small eyes. Waving the servant away, he pondered for a moment before gathering his robe and heading to the flower hall.

“Second Brother, I heard you brought someone back?” In the hall stood the tall and lean Master Gu Zhong, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes as keen as a hawk’s, fixed on Second Master Gu.

Second Master Gu nodded gravely. He ordered ginger tea to be served, took a sip to dispel the chill, and only then spoke slowly, “Elder Brother, I did bring someone back. She’s injured and needs a physician and the best medicines. I ask you to make arrangements.”

At this, Master Gu Zhong’s already lined brow furrowed deeper. He flicked his sleeve, irritation in his voice. “Decades of indulgence and drunkenness were bad enough, but now you do something so reckless? Injured or not, why bring her here?”

Second Master Gu knew his elder brother had misunderstood. He couldn’t be bothered to explain at length, only shook his head and said, “You’re mistaken, Elder Brother. The person I brought back isn’t just anyone. She’s my daughter—my illegitimate child, lost for fifteen years.”

Illegitimate child!

Those three words struck like thunder, leaving Master Gu Zhong stunned, disbelief etched across his face.

He had always known his brother’s nature. Sixteen years ago, his sister-in-law died in childbirth. From then on, his already unruly brother became even more addicted to drink, seldom sober, and neglected the daughter newly born to him.

If the main household had not cared for the child all these years, she might not have survived.

Yet now, his brother told him that a year after his wife’s death, he had fathered an illegitimate child, lost for fifteen years.

Thoughts raced through Master Gu Zhong’s mind, and his expression turned harsh. “Throw her out! She cannot stay here!”

This was a stain, a disgrace that would bring shame on the entire Gu family.

Second Master Gu, unusually sober, drained his ginger tea. Feeling warmth return to his body, he looked directly at Gu Zhong and said, “The child’s legs are crippled; she will never walk properly again. Elder Brother, I can’t abandon her any longer.”

He brushed the creases from his robe, stood, and gazed out at the storm. “Elder Brother, I’ve never asked you for anything. All these years, I’ve let Sister-in-law suppress the second household. But this one thing…”

He paused, turning to meet Gu Zhong’s gaze, letting the other see the resolve in his eyes. “She’s been lost for fifteen years. She’ll be a cripple for life. One more mouth to feed—the Gu family can afford it.”

A long silence settled between them. Master Gu Zhong pressed his lips together, the hooked nose of a seasoned merchant betraying his decisiveness. He stared unblinking at Second Master Gu, as if seeing him for the first time. At last, he spoke. “Do as you wish.”

It was as if Second Master Gu had been waiting for this answer. Relief washed over him, and a faint smile touched his lips. “Thank you, Elder Brother. On behalf of Fei, I thank you for taking her in.”

Master Gu Zhong turned to leave, but at these words paused and glanced back. “Her name is Fei? Gu Fei?”

“Yes,” Second Master Gu replied.

The few dignified whiskers beneath Gu Zhong’s chin trembled; with stern composure, his robes swirling, he departed.

Only when Gu Zhong’s figure had vanished did Second Master Gu’s smile fade abruptly. Outside, thunder and rain cast flickering shadows, the somber gloom in his eyes mirroring the storm’s turmoil.

Meanwhile, in a secluded courtyard of the second household, the storm’s fury could not penetrate. The small oil lamp’s yellow glow flickered, on the verge of extinction.

On an old canopy bed, beneath a sky-blue mosquito net and a faded brocade quilt still embroidered with peonies, an elderly woman with silver hair had changed into coarse blue garments. She wrung out a damp cloth, approached the bedside, and tucked in the quilt. In the dim light, she could make out the pale, bloodless face of a girl of about thirteen or fourteen. The girl’s lips were tinged blue, cold sweat beading her brow—clearly, her sleep was restless.

“Miss, miss…” the old woman gently wiped the girl’s forehead with the cloth, calling softly.

The girl remained unconscious. The old woman sighed, tossed aside the cloth, and unwrapped a small bundle, revealing an assortment of bottles and jars.

Her movements were deft. She selected a strip of gauzy cotton, mixed powders from the containers, then carefully drew back the quilt.

At once, the air filled with the scent of blood. Unflinching, she rolled up the girl’s pant legs, revealing calves crisscrossed with gruesome scars, blood still oozing.

The flesh was in shreds, once fair and smooth now laid bare. The cotton dressing, soaked by the rain, was now sodden with pus and blood—a ghastly sight.