"She was very young. When she married my father, she was only seventeen or eighteen. At the time, I was the eldest son, and I had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, both born to the same mother as me. Her family background was better than my mother's, and Grandmother thought highly of her. Looking back, I think all Grandmother and Father cared about was her family background. She was childlike by nature, and sometimes she would play with us. Grandmother and Father indulged her, too, and never expected her to manage the household the way my mother did. She had no designs on my mother... She was simply restless by nature, with a restless tongue and restless feet. I don't know which maid told her about my mother, but she decided she wanted to see my mother's former residence. In the last year of her life, my mother didn't live in the main courtyard. She moved to a side courtyard, which was sealed off after she died. Her memorial tablet was placed there, and the servants were responsible for maintaining it. My painting hung there, too. Grandmother and Father forbade us from going near the place. Even when we paid respects to my mother, we only burned some paper money in the main courtyard. There wasn't even a tablet to bow to.
"My stepmother sneaked into that side courtyard. When she came back, she was furious. Grandmother and Father didn't care, so the servants in charge of the place had started slacking off. My stepmother had a somewhat naive sense of justice, so she complained to Grandmother and Father. Then she turned around and praised my painting, asking me to paint one for her, too. She promptly forgot all about the matter. That very day, Grandmother ordered