I had dreamed of falling in love as in the operas. I expected my new husband to be intelligent and caring. I expected that we would court like butterflies in spring. I expected to feel for him. But my chances are taken away unasked. Mr. Fei is on my face every night ripping away every thread of my beautifully embroidered dream.

I weep in the middle of his act. How different am I from the prostitutes on the streets? It: makes me think that. I have wronged my mother. I have always thought that she had done something wrong to mess up her life. Now I understand that a girl can do everything right and her life will still be a mess.

Now the girl has a place to stay and a man to pay her bills. Her energy resumes. She is ready to take charge of her life again. She doesn't consult her husband. She thinks of him as a prop in her real-life show.

The in-laws' complaint becomes her excuse. I am not going to stay where your mother wants to have my feet bound again, she says. The husband comes in between the women and tries to negotiate. No deal. His wife can't wait to be divorced. He can't outsmart her. Nothing will satisfy her until she is released.

Mr. Fei sits down and takes out his abacus. He calculates and decides that he doesn't want to invest more in a business of no profit.

With some money in her pocket the girl is on the run again. She never mentions the husband to anyone. Later in life she denies that the marriage ever existed. As the woman who will lead China after Mao, she must be a goddess. Having too many husbands on record will impede her path to power.

In 1930 she thinks herself a peacock among hens. Her life is the proof. She tells herself, sometimes one has to be put in a henhouse in order to be measured, compared and recognized.