Iron Widow (Iron Widow, #1)

by Xiran Jay Zhao

My village elders say girls shouldn’t touch these heavenly devices, because we would desecrate them with, I don’t know, our wicked femaleness or something.

But I don’t care how indebted I am to the elders or the gods. If they don’t respect me just because I’m from the “wrong” half of the population, I’m not respecting them back.

Why should I endanger my mission by telling him? However Yizhi sees this relationship we have, I’ve never made the mistake of taking it too seriously. He’s the son of literally the richest man in Huaxia, and I’m a random frontier girl he met by chance while getting some peace and quiet in the farthest place he could go on his hovercycle.

I lift my eyes to an actual butterfly chrysalis dangling on a branch behind Yizhi. The Chrysalises were named after those, so the saying goes that dead pilots reincarnate into butterflies. If

He tells me my brows are pretty much done, then raises his tablet to take a magnified video of the butterfly. Our eyes didn’t trick us. One wing is black with a white dot, and the other is white with a black dot—like the yīn-yáng symbol.

“Apparently having different wings means a butterfly is . . . both male and female.” My frown springs loose. I gape at the sentence. “That can happen?”

“Oh, yeah, biological sex has all sorts of variations in nature.” Yizhi crawls beside me on the bamboo mat, gathering his robes away from the gray dirt beneath. “There are even creatures that can switch sex depending on their needs.” “But I thought . . .” I blink fast. “I thought females are female because their primordial qì is yīn-based, and males are male because their primordial qì is yáng-based.” Yīn and yáng represent the opposing forces that churn the universe into life.

Female. That label has never done anything for me except dictate what I can or cannot do. No going anywhere without permission. No showing too much skin. No speaking too loudly or unkindly, or at all, if the men are talking. No living my life without being constantly aware of how pleasing I am to the eye. No future except pushing out son after son for a husband, or dying in a Chrysalis to give some boy the power to reach for glory. It’s as if I’ve got a cocoon shriveled too tightly around my whole being. If I had my way, I’d exist like that butterfly, giving onlookers no easy way to bind me with a simple label.

“You’re still the Zetian I know, though. I think you’re the most stunning girl in the world, no matter what you look like.”

“I’m enlisting as a concubine-pilot.” His jaw slackens. “For which pilot?” I open my mouth, but I can’t spit out that bastard’s name. “For him.” He searches my eyes. “For Yang Guang?” I nod, all warmth gone from my face. “Zetian, he killed your sister!” “That’s why I’m going.” I fling Yizhi’s hands away and slide a long wooden hairpin out of my rag-wrapped hair bun. “I’m going to be his beautiful, sultry concubine. And then—” I yank the hairpin apart, revealing the sharp point within, “I’m going to rip his throat open in his sleep.”

“You better not have been fooling around with a boy.” “Of course not.” I back away, shoulder hitting the door of my grandparents’ room. Half a lie. I was breaking one’s heart instead. My father charges closer. His looming figure doubles in my view. “You better be able to pass the maidenhood test when—” That one jolting word makes me forget how to fear him. “For the last time, nothing’s ever been up inside me!” I scream. “Stop being so obsessed!”

“Unwrapping my feet!” I jam my back against the door while acting on the threat. Unwrapped feet are more indecent than naked breasts. Not to mention the rotting flesh smell, which is possibly its own class of biological weapon. Girls are supposed to maintain the fantasy of their dainty prettiness by always wearing perfumed, embroidered shoes and never removing the bindings in front of anyone, not even their husbands.

But a mother who has failed me so thoroughly is no mother of mine. My chest heaves. I lean forward, hands clutching my knees. My voice squeezes out around a hard sob in my throat. “In the next life, I hope we have nothing to do with each other.”

“Aunties, uncles, believe me, I can match any price.” He shows my family the metal piece of his ID. “So, please. Let me marry your daughter.”

“Then we’ll make our own opportunities. We can figure it out together. As long as there’s life, there’s hope.” Yizhi lifts my fingers into the spill of window light. His words tremble like winter and fall like snow. “But any life I make will be meaningless without you.”

“Stop pretending like your family would let me be anything but a concubine.” I back away with wobbling steps. “And that will never work. There’ll be problems when I refuse to kowtow to your disgusting pig of a father. When I refuse to serve the proper wife you’ll inevitably get arranged with. When I refuse to bear your son—because I am never letting anyone’s spawn swell up my body and bind me forever, not even yours. And you will not be able to prevent any of this, because you are barely eighteen years old,

When I break the kiss, I thread my fingers through the pulledback portion of his hair and touch my forehead to his. Warm breaths gust and swirl between our faces. Maybe, if things were different, I could get used to this. Being cradled in his warmth and light. Being cherished. Being loved. But I have no faith in love. Love cannot save me. I choose vengeance.

“You are here to provide comfort and companionship to one of the greatest heroes of our times.” Auntie Dou’s introductory speech replays in my mind, from when we first gathered in a trembling line before her. “From this day onward, you exist to please him, so that he may be in peak physical and mental condition to battle the Hunduns that threaten our borders. His well-being should be the most prominent subject of your thoughts. You will bring him meals when he is hungry, pour him water when he is thirsty, and partake in his hobbies with him with lively enthusiasm. When he speaks, you will give your full attention, without interrupting or arguing. You will not be moody, pessimistic, or indifferent, and—most importantly—you will not react negatively to his touch.”

Look on the bright side, I tell myself. After this, I can die. Finally. Being alive has been painful, exhausting, and disappointing.

“No . . . more . . . killing . . . girls . . .” I growl, a demonic sound that belongs in a nightmare.

A surreal euphoria courses through me. Infinite possibilities open to me at once. That’s right, I’m no longer human. I’ve been set free from my broken body, that husk of flesh and bone that has been prepared all its existence to be used for the whims and pleasures of men.

“You’ve been living a dream for long enough!” I yell at the cameras between bursts of maniacal laughter, raising my arms. “Welcome to your nightmare!”

Chills ice down my back. Iron Widow. I can guess the meaning—a girl who sacrifices her male partner to power up Chrysalises, instead of the other way around. If there’s a name for this, that implies a precedent. Yet I have never, ever heard of this happening.

Iron Widow. Even if that’s not what I really am, even if this is just a fluke, the mere possibility of girls like that sends my heart racing and my head spinning. But what happened to them? Would the army really rather kill them than use their power? Do they honestly fear girls more than Hunduns?

“The Sages have made a decision, Consort Wu,” Chief Strategist Zhuge says, looking almost sad. “You will be partnering up with Li Shimin, pilot of the Vermilion Bird.”

It’s hilarious. Men want us so badly for our bodies, yet hate us so much for our minds.

“Don’t follow after me, Tian-Tian.” She caresses my face, but her fingers crumble into smoke before I can cherish their warmth. “There’s nothing here. It’s not a solution. Not an escape. I’m not free. I’m just gone.” My knees wobble and give out. I collapse, trying to hold on to her, but my hands pass through her no matter what I do. “I don’t care,” I sob. “Let me stay with you. Please. He’s dead. I killed him. I avenged you.” Her eyelids droop. “And do you really think that changed anything?” “What do you mean?” I shake my head over and over. “It’s one less monster in the world.” “And there are tens of thousands more just like him.”

“Be their nightmare, Wu Zetian.”

“To be honest, there have been certain rumors claiming that you are, how should I say this, a fox spirit. The spirit of an actual nine-tailed fox, possessing the body of a beautiful girl in order to devour men.”

“That’s not a matter of losing control. Every guy who does something like that knows exactly what he’s doing. There is always a moment where he consciously decides that he will ruin someone’s life to feel better about his own. Always.”

“With bound feet, you learn the value of the bonds between family.” My

“I’m so tired of being a girl.” “Yeah. If you were a boy, you’d be ruling the world by now.”

The notion that men and women must be with only each other tires me as much as the pilot system.

“Yes, because love doesn’t solve problems,” I say. “Solving problems solves problems.”

An Lushan’s glare slices into me. “Shut your mouth. The men are talking.”

“You can’t shoot me; I’m from Central Command!” Sima Yi shouts, ramming through the soldier standoff. “You can’t shoot me; I’m rich!” Yizhi slips through the opening created.

In hindsight, I was such a fool to have assumed Qieluo would stand by me just because she’s also female. It was my grandmother who crushed my feet in half. It was my mother who encouraged me and Big Sister to offer ourselves up as concubines so our brother could afford a future bride.

It was always the village aunties who’d sit around gossiping about which girl hadn’t been married off yet, despite complaining nonstop about their own husbands. And then they’d congratulate new mothers for being “blessed” to have a boy, despite being female themselves. How do you take the fight out of half the population and render them willing slaves? You tell them they’re meant to do nothing but serve from the minute they’re born. You tell them they’re weak. You tell them they’re prey. You tell them over and over, until it’s the only truth they’re capable of living.

“Gao-zoˇng . . . why do you hate women this much?” There’s a small pause, then he bursts into startling laughter. The sound pounds against the back of my skull like drumbeats and vibrates through my wheelchair. “Hate women? Don’t be ridiculous! The world wouldn’t function without women! Who would bear our children, make our meals, sew our clothes, warm our beds, and so, so, so much more? Please.” He leans into my periphery, feline eyes narrowing into slashes. “Nobody in this world hates women in general. They just hate the ones who won’t listen. Who think they can break the rules and get away with it. So, Pilot Wu, are you one of them?”

What I hate is the pilot system that insists girls are an unavoidable sacrifice in the process.

Gao Qiu was right about one thing: there’s not a stratum of the world that doesn’t need girls. Maybe we’re devalued precisely because we’re so valuable. The world is too afraid of not being able to obtain and control us to respect our true worth.

“Where does jealousy come from, if not an insecurity that I’ll lose you because of him? But that’s not how it works, no matter how many people believe it so. You’re not something to be kept or taken, and love isn’t some scarce resource to battle over. Love can be infinite, as much as your heart can open. I mean, when you think about it, love is fueled mostly by compatibility.

“Zetian, every time you choose to look at me, I know for certain that there’s a place for me in your heart.” My eyes widen, vision splintering with tears. My mouth slackens in wonder. Yes, there is. There will always be a place for him. And this is why. This is why. “My fifth son is not the type to fall in love.” Gao Qiu’s words intrude into my thoughts, but I scatter them like dust. Yizhi met me when I was a powerless frontier girl. What ulterior motive could he have possibly carried for this long?

I’m rising, rising above that collective bullshit. So many attempts to stop me from existing comfortably in my own skin, yet here I am, doing what I want with a boy nobody appointed to me. And it’s not dirtying me. It will not ruin me. It is not obscene, filthy, or shameful. Shame. That was their favorite tool. A tool to corrode me from the inside until I believed I could only accept whatever lot they threw at my bound feet. It didn’t work. Despite their best efforts, I find myself worthy of happiness.

Everything they’ve used to bind me, I will turn against them. My looks are an illusion to snag their attention. My decadence is a bait to stir their outrage. My perfect partnership is a lie to keep them obsessing. The very force of their judgment and hatred will make me unstoppable.

I’ve decided something: I will slaughter him for what he did to Shimin. He has shot to the top of my ever-growing hit list.

“The entitled assholes of the world are sustained by girls who forgive too easily.

He must be the only pilot to crown a Match who doesn’t belong to him. Then again, I don’t belong to anybody, and I never will.

“Yizhi’s the one you should choose.” I lean forward with a growl, digging my nails into the edge of the bed. “Choose? Why do I have to choose only one of you?” “You can’t . . . cheat . . . on him.” “Cheating is deception. He and I have talked about this. He’s secure enough to know it’s not a competition. That any feelings I have for you don’t cancel out the ones I have for him. He’s okay with however close you and I get.”

“I dream about walking on daggers every night, you know,” he murmurs tenderly. “It feels like a nightmare, but I think it’s just your life.”