Bai Lihua and Bai Meili, returned home from the market as the sun dipped low, painting the sky in fading light. Inside their small house, their father, Bai Jing, sat at the table, his face lined with worry.
He looked up as they entered, his eyes tired and sad. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, with a heavy sigh, he spoke.
"My daughters, I have something very hard to tell you," he began. "We have run out of money. Your mother and the baby... I... I have tried everything, but there is nothing left."
He paused, his voice trembling. "One of you must go to the palace and become a concubine. It is not an easy life, but it is better than the other choice. The other must go to the brothel near the river and work as a courtesan. I am so sorry. I wish there was another way."
The room was silent. The sisters stared at their father, unable to speak, the weight of his words pressing down on them.
Meili's face twisted with shock and anger. She slammed her basket down on the table, making the few coins inside rattle.
"No! I won't do it!" Meili cried, her voice sharp. "I won't go to that place by the river. I'd rather die than become a courtesan!"
Tears welled in her eyes. She looked at her father, pleading. "Why can't Lihua go instead? Why do I have to be the one?"
Bai Jing closed his eyes, pain etched deep in his face. "Meili, I wish I could spare you both. But the palace only wants one girl, and the other must go to the brothel. I have no choice."
Meili shook her head, her whole body trembling. "It's not fair! Lihua always gets the better things. Why do I have to suffer?"
Lihua stood quietly, her hands clenched at her sides. The room was thick with silence, broken only by Meili's sobs.
Lihua watched her sister's tears fall, each one seeming to echo through the small house. She knew, deep down, how things would end. Meili's beauty was matched only by her talent for getting her way—especially when she cried. People in the village often whispered about the sisters, unable to decide which was more beautiful, but it was always Meili who drew the most attention.
Lihua felt a quiet ache in her chest. She had always been the quieter one, the one who gave in when Meili wanted something. Now, even with so much at stake, it seemed nothing had changed.
She looked at her father, who could barely meet her eyes, and then at Meili, who was still sobbing, her face buried in her hands.
Lihua spoke softly, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. "It's all right, Father. If Meili cannot go, then I will."
The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Lihua's heart pounded, but she forced herself to stand tall. She had always known that sometimes, the universe was not fair—especially for girls like them.
Bai Jing's shoulders sagged with relief and sorrow.
Meili's tears dried almost instantly. As the reality of Lihua's sacrifice settled in, a new light sparked in her eyes. She straightened, smoothing her hair and wiping her cheeks, her earlier sorrow replaced by a trembling excitement.
"Really? I can go to the palace?" Meili's voice was barely more than a whisper, but it was filled with wonder. "I'll wear silk robes and eat from golden plates. I'll see the emperor himself!" She twirled, already imagining herself in the grand halls, surrounded by music and luxury.
Their mother, Yang Ruolan, who had been listening quietly from the doorway, stepped forward. Her face was pale, her hands wringing the edge of her apron. She looked first at Meili, then at Lihua, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"My daughters," she said softly, "this is not a blessing. The palace is a cage, no matter how beautiful. And the brothel..." Her voice broke, and she pressed her lips together, unable to finish.
Bai Jing nodded, his own guilt heavy in his eyes. "We failed you both," he said, voice rough. "We should have protected you from this world. Lihua, I am so sorry. You have always been the strong one."
Lihua stood quietly, her face calm but her hands trembling. She looked at her parents, then at her sister, who was now humming softly to herself, lost in dreams of silk and gold.
She wanted to be angry at Meili, to shout at her for her selfishness, but all she felt was a deep, aching sadness. She knew her sister was not cruel—just young, and blinded by hope. Lihua remembered all the times she had given up small things for Meili: a sweet bun, a new ribbon, a place in the sun. But this was different. This was her future.
Yang Ruolan moved to Lihua's side and took her hand. "You are brave, my child," she whispered. "We will find a way to visit you. We will not forget you."
Meili, oblivious to the sorrow in the room, began to chatter about what she would wear, what she would say to the other girls in the palace, how she would make the emperor notice her. Her laughter rang out, bright and careless, as if nothing could touch her now.
But for Bai Jing and Yang Ruolan, there was no joy in the decision. They watched Lihua, their hearts heavy with guilt and fear for what lay ahead. They knew that beauty, in this world, was both a blessing and a curse—and that sometimes, the brightest stars were the ones that burned out first.
Lihua sat by the small window as the moon began to rise, its pale light spilling across the worn wooden floor. She could hear Meili in the next room, still talking excitedly to their mother about the palace—about silk slippers, jeweled hairpins, and the possibility of meeting the emperor. The sound was both comforting and painful, a reminder of how different the two sisters had always been.
For Lihua, this outcome felt almost inevitable. She had always known that Meili was not made for hard work. Even as a child, Meili would cry if her hands got dirty or if she had to walk too far in the sun. Lihua remembered countless mornings when Meili would complain about the long walk to the market, her feet aching before they had even left the village. Sometimes, Meili would refuse to go at all, claiming she felt faint or that the dust would ruin her shoes. It was always Lihua who ended up carrying the heavier baskets, bargaining with the vendors, and making sure they returned home with enough food for the day.
Meili was beautiful—no one could deny that. Her skin was like porcelain, her hair long and glossy, her eyes bright and full of life. She spent hours in front of the cracked mirror, fussing over her clothes and braiding her hair just so. Even now, as their family teetered on the edge of ruin, Meili's first thoughts were of how she might shine in the palace, how she might be admired and adored.
Lihua, on the other hand, had always been the practical one. She knew how to mend clothes and cook rice over a smoky fire. She knew how to soothe their little brother when he cried, how to help her mother with the washing, and how to stretch a handful of coins to feed the whole family. She was beautiful, too—people often said so—but she had never learned to rely on her looks the way Meili did. She had learned, instead, to rely on herself.
As she sat in the quiet, Lihua felt tears prick at her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they came anyway, silent and hot. She was not angry at Meili, not really. She loved her sister, even if Meili was spoiled and thoughtless at times. It was just that Lihua had always known this day might come—the day when she would have to give up something precious so that Meili could have what she wanted.
She wondered what her life would be like in the brothel by the river. She had heard stories, of course—stories whispered by older girls in the market, stories that made her shiver. It would not be easy. But Lihua had faced hardship before. She would face this, too, for her family.
As the night deepened, Lihua wiped her tears and stood. She would not let her parents see her cry. She would be strong, as she had always been. After all, someone had to be.
In the other room, Meili's laughter rang out, sweet and careless. Lihua listened for a moment, then turned away, her heart heavy but resolute. This was the way of things. Some girls were born to be cherished, to be admired and protected. Others were born to carry the burdens, to make the sacrifices that kept the family together.
Lihua knew which kind she was. And though it hurt, she would not turn away from her fate.