Chapter 1438 - Sun Shangxiang
Leaving the Farm Café, Cheng Yongxin felt happier than she had at any point since D-Day. The comfort and exhilaration were unprecedented—it seemed she possessed a genuine talent for political struggle. Panpan had been so easy to cultivate.
The woman's emotions were now thoroughly stirred, transformed into a most reliable ally.
Cheng Yongxin took it for granted that conquering Panpan was equivalent to indirectly conquering Dingding. Mastering pillow talk meant possessing the ability to subtly influence him over time.
You call yourselves "media people," yet you lack any self-awareness of what that means, she thought as she sat in the rickshaw, enjoying the coolness of the night breeze on her face. You have no idea what power you hold, yet you willingly serve as cogs in the Council's machine. How pitiful. I will make you awaken.
She stepped off the rickshaw some distance from Bairen City Station and caught the last small train to Gaoshanling—where the Great Library was secretly located.
Back in her quarters, a letter from the General Affairs Office waited on her desk: a permit approving direct purchase of a maid from the Maid School.
"Director Xiao is quite efficient," she murmured, tossing the letter aside, a faint smile curving her lips. "Why not go pick out something cute tomorrow?"
The Maid School's formal name was the "General Affairs Office Life Secretary Training Center." It stood not far from Fangcaodi Academy, but its security was so tight and its concealment so thorough that few people knew the place existed. High walls rose behind dense bamboo groves and tangled hedges. No one could pass through without axes and machetes; only a narrow path wound its way to the main gate.
There were no sentries visible at the entrance, no nameplate—only a simple house number. Even the most experienced postman at the Lingao Post Office had no idea where this address was; all correspondence went through a post office box.
The gate remained closed throughout the day. Whenever a visitor arrived and pulled the bell rope, a small window would slide open, and the visitor would be required to surrender their pass and identification for inspection before being granted entry.
In theory, Elders did not need to select their life secretaries in person. The General Affairs Office maintained detailed files on every "pending assignment" candidate—complete family histories, school performance, scores in every subject, and multiple photographs in various poses, allowing Elders to make informed decisions under conditions as realistic as possible. But given the opportunity, most Elders preferred to see the merchandise with their own eyes.
However, visiting the school required written permission from the General Affairs Office. Without a permit, even Elders—unless they held positions within the institution—could not set foot inside. This was a special regulation designed to guarantee equal rights among Elders and prevent disruptions to the school's teaching and daily operations.
"Sun Shangxiang! What is wrong with your leg position?!"
The harsh reprimand echoed through the physique classroom for what felt like the hundredth time. The dance instructor was a "senior"—not much older than the students themselves, but having entered earlier, she held authority. A single shout from her was enough to make unrelated students tremble.
Sun Shangxiang hurriedly adjusted her stance. The skin on her back tightened in anticipation.
The blow came as expected. The instructor strode over, rattan cane whistling down without mercy.
Waves of searing heat bloomed across her back. She held the pose, motionless, tears welling in her eyes.
Sun Shangxiang did not understand the purpose of these exercises—gripping the barre before a massive mirror, executing one baffling movement after another on command. It wasn't quite like opera training, yet too slow for dancing.
She had bound feet. Anything involving bodily movement was agony for her, and she paid dearly for it. By the end of each class, her body bore dozens of fresh welts.
"Further out! Stand steady!" The cane kept lashing at her thighs and calves. No matter how wide she opened her eyes, the tears slid down anyway.
Just then, beyond the classroom window, a pair of eyes watched her.
"I'll take this one," Cheng Yongxin said. "Prepare her file."
"Yes, Chief. I'll have the handover documents ready immediately."
Sun Shangxiang carried her small rattan suitcase, beads of sweat gathering on her back. Walking had been difficult when her feet were bound, and unbound they were hardly better—the Chiefs forbade any woman from binding her feet, least of all a "life secretary" like herself.
Yet even if she still privately believed small feet were beautiful, she had to admit that natural feet held undeniable advantages when fleeing disaster—especially after what she had suffered. During fleeing, women with bound feet could only wait to be caught, raped, and killed. Had she not encountered Master Lu's local militia in time, Sun Suyun—abandoned by the roadside with the other refugee dregs—would long since have fallen into the hands of rebel soldiers.
Sun Shangxiang was not her original name. Her father, Sun Huawu, was a kinsman of Sun Yuanhua, the Governor of Deng-Lai. The kinship was tenuous at best—her family had lived in Shandong for generations, sharing nothing with Sun Yuanhua except the surname. But even the flimsiest clan connection offered possibilities for patronage. Though her father was merely a petty hereditary officer in the Dengzhou Garrison, he understood that without backing, advancement was impossible.
Seeking a powerful leg to cling to, Sun Huawu had converted the entire family to Catholicism, and Sun Shangxiang received an education—learning to read. She took the baptismal name Sun Suyun.
Neither the clan connection nor the foreign faith yielded much benefit. When Dengzhou fell, everything turned to ash along with Lord Sun.
She felt little about whether Lord Sun lived or died. But the fate of her father and family gnawed at her constantly. On the road of flight, the household servants had first stolen the livestock and fled, forcing her and her mother to struggle forward on foot. Then the refugees were attacked by marauding soldiers. The thunder of hooves, coarse shouts, triumphant laughter, and desperate screams—these were her only memories of the assault.
When she crawled from beneath the pile of corpses, the snow-covered ground was littered with stripped bodies—some headless, some missing arms. Her family had vanished.
She knew exactly what fate awaited a lone woman with bound feet in such chaos, in snow a foot deep. Never mind soldiers or bandits—even able-bodied refugee men might seize the opportunity. Seeing dust rising in the distance as another group approached, Sun Suyun thought briefly of fleeing into the woods to hang herself. She tried to run, only to realize in despair that her bound feet had carried her mere steps. As the snow dust drew nearer, she collapsed again, letting out a desperate wail.
Fortunately, it was Master Lu's militia. She rode a cart to Qimu Island, and from there all the way to Hainan.
Sun Suyun was not stupid. On the contrary, compared to her eldest brother—on whom the family pinned all hopes for inheriting some millet-sized future position—she was far cleverer. But no matter how sharp her wits, she was just a fifteen-year-old girl with bound feet. She could not fight off Master Lu's sturdy maidservants and was bundled onto a great ship in a few efficient moves. In a daze, she arrived in Qiongzhou Prefecture.
In the dim hold, girls from opera-troupe backgrounds whispered about what awaited them in Qiongzhou. From their chatter, she gathered they had all been selected by the "Chiefs" to become concubines. Though their words betrayed fear of the first wife, they brimmed with excitement—imagining silk and satin at an Australian lord's side, fine food on the table, or at least enough white rice every day. Sun Suyun shrank further into her corner, avoiding their gazes.
A few extra meals have rotted your brains... No matter how prettily you dress it up, you're just concubines—replaceable as cats and dogs...
Her mother had been the daughter of a convicted official. Had Sun Huawu not redeemed her, had she not leveraged the birth of the eldest son to whisper pillow talk and maneuver the childless first wife out of the picture, she might never have bound her feet, let alone hoped for a respectable marriage. Yet even as second wife, her mother had suffered cruelly at the hands of younger concubines once her beauty faded.
"Niuniu, Mother will make sure you marry wearing a red skirt. Never be like Mother..."
Her mother's sobbing merged with her own tears. Mother, Niuniu has failed you. Niuniu is going to be a concubine for an Australian lord—
In this trance, Sun Shangxiang followed the other girls, tears streaming, forming a long queue.
"Where are you from? What is your surname?"
"Dengzhou, Shandong. Surname Sun."
"Do you have a name?"
A name? Of course she had a name. But what did it matter now?
In the church, the priest had praised her greatly and bestowed the name Suyun, saying she would become a pure and noble lady of devout faith.
She did not want to tarnish that name.
"No name. Just a childhood nickname—Da Niu'er."
She was becoming someone else's property. They would call her whatever they pleased; there might even be taboos to observe. Why invite trouble?
"Mm, then you shall be called Sun Shangxiang."
What choice did she have besides kowtowing in gratitude?
"Shangxiang thanks the Lord for bestowing the name."
Sun Suyun died at sea. Only the maid Sun Shangxiang remained.
"Hey—no kowtowing! Alright, next!"
Then she was pushed into a shed, locked in a cangue, and had her head shaved bald like a nun.
The girl beside her screamed as if being strangled. Sun Shangxiang simply wept.
—Niuniu, don't be like Mother.
Crying was one thing; slacking was another. Sun Shangxiang dared not be lazy or cunning. Even concubines had ranks. If she performed well enough, she might at least have some power to choose—like the top courtesans in the pleasure houses.
Because she possessed considerable education, fair and delicate skin, and a reasonably developed figure—legacies her family had inadvertently bestowed—she was selected for the life secretary training program and sent here.