Half-conscious, Baozhu was seized by the hair and thrust into the icy pool. The shock brought her fully awake.
She had struggled desperately before being dragged away and knocked unconscious, but both her arms had been dislocated, leaving her unable to raise them to resist. Two serving women scrubbed her hard with coarse cloth, almost scraping her skin raw.
One serving woman said cautiously, "Aunt, this girl is quite clean already."
Someone on the bank replied sternly, "The daughter of some farmer or rustic old man, born behind a brushwood door and a broken-jar window-there could well be fleas and nits in her hair. Look carefully, and scrub hard."
A male voice added a warning. "She's strong. Once her joints are reset, make sure she can't get her hands on any weapons."
The woman on the bank said, "Where would she find weapons in these inner quarters? We won't even give her an eyebrow razor."
Instinctively aware of the many unfamiliar eyes watching her, Baozhu burned with rage. Since childhood, she had been accustomed to bathing surrounded by crowds of servants, but she had never been treated so brutally.
After a lengthy scrubbing, she was dragged ashore by her hair again, dried off, and dressed in a maidservant's clothes.
The woman the servants called Aunt approached. Judging by her dress and makeup, she was probably a senior matron. She scrutinized Baozhu from head to toe and pronounced, "Fine, smooth skin, and good hair too." Then she took Baozhu's hand, felt its palm and back, and said, "Your nails are too short. You must grow them out to look alluring."
Baozhu's shoulders were dislocated, and the slightest tug sent searing pain through them. She wanted to kick the woman, but the grip on her hair held her immobile.
Two men, one