Ning Weilan's married life started off quite well.
After entering the bridal chamber, Big Head Zhang, seeing his wife as beautiful as a flower and as delicate as jade, felt half fearful and half proud. How could he not feel an overwhelming sense of male chauvinism when such a well-born young mistress was now completely submissive and affectionate toward him?
The morning after that thunderstorm, Big Head Zhang found a piece of red thread in his hand. He remembered the vague voice in his dream and first thought of his own lifespan—he should be able to live until sixty according to that person's words. Sixty years would be good enough; after all, living to seventy was rare in ancient times! He was in his prime and had no reverence for the number of years he had left.
