Snatching a Witty Queen

"Stupid woman, are you feeding a dog with such a meal!" Clap A resounding slap revebarated in thin air, escaping with the wind, despite the receiver feeling the lingering pain. Sprawled on the cold floor was a woman who's face looked haggard and tired with dark circles underneath. Her face was almost unrecognizable, making it impossible to tell her current age. Kneeling in front of the well dressed man, she could only bite her lips, fighting away the urge to cry. She really wished she could vent her emotions, but she knew she definitely couldn't cry, resigning to her fate of a woman she kowtowed. "I.... I'm sorry my lord, it was my fault for coming back late and could only afford to make such a mediocre meal. I accept your punishment." Feeling that his ego had been fulfilled, the man smiled smugly, scoffing in disdain towards the woman who could only bow down to him and lower her head in front of him. "I'll let you off today, hand me the money, I'll eat outside." The woman's body froze upon receiving the order, and despite her reluctance she could only take out a 20$ note, the sum might seem small, but she had toiled for long for this sum. She still had to take care of the family and buy drugs for her sick daughter. Giving the money away, how could she not feel reluctant. The man standing above her also felt her reluctance. His face darkening as he peered at her with warning glare. "Do you dare not give it to me?" No She didn't, she really didn't dare refuse him, but once this money was gone, what would happen to her daughter, this man wouldn't even care about a daughter. Their society only cared about sons and as for daughters, they would die and can only serve as shield and stepping stones to sons, same for women. She was a woman herself, so despite her reluctance, she could only hand over the money. "I don't dare my lord.", She couldn't even plead for herself, would she dare plead for her daughter? She could only watch as her husband walked out of the house with her hard earned money. At thesame moment, a girl with large beautiful blue saphire eyes, milky skin sat dazedly in her room. She had a slender figure despite seeming a little malnourished it didn't make her ugly but she gave off a pitiful appearance that could immediately awaken men's protective instinct. Her golden locks fell softly on her shoulders, cascading down to her waist, before sweeping on the bed. Despite dressed in tattered clothes, she still an ethearal beauty. Holding a book with her slender fingers, she had a calm and serene air, indifferent and aloof like an icy beauty. From where she sat, she obviously heard the commotion outside, that person was her mother and the heartless man was her father. Despite that, she didn't have a change of expression and continued reading. Perharps others would say she had a black heart. But she didn't bother with such comment, thinking about the color black, she didn't have much positive thoughts towards it. Black, it represented negativity, and everyone found it bad, but Lacy Lynsey knew that black also represented both mystery and power. The color black to her represented life's mysteries and the numerous questions she never ceased to ask. However, at the age of sixteen those questions had to be forcefully ceased and suppressed in her mind, because at that age, her beloved and knowlegeable aunty who could answer all her questions had already died and as for her father, she knew he wouldn't take notice of her, it would be good enough if he could remember her lowly name. She wouldn't say much about her mother either, not that she was heartless, she simply couldn't help much. Her little hometown was an exotic environnement with greenery vegetation and the blowing wind, void of impurities like in big cities filled with air pollution in the 2980s. What she loved the most were the tall purple wysteria trees of her hometown. She loved to watch it sway while she sat on the desk of her room reading her books. Perharps she also loved the whistling winds, as her eyes closed for a few moments of rest, they were pretty and pretty to watch. She loved her hometown, but she equally hated it as well, she hated their culture and hated that no one found it strange for women to lay beneath men in the 1980s. She never understood why women were destined to be housewives and their glory came from how many male children they could give to men. Women practically had no right to speech and they could only serve men like slaves, but when they died, who would remember them. Her aunty was one, despite being knowlegeable , she was death and no one remembered her efforts to support her family. Why? Women were many, lose one and you can get another one for yourself, if the other isn't enough, then buy another and another as you please. That was men's concept and belief, as well as that of everyone in her hometown. So Lacy hated her hometown as much as she liked it, she hated the male chauvinism and she hated the women's powerlessness. But what could she do, she was powerless as well, perharps not yet a woman, but it surely won't take long. In barely a year she would be eighteen and later sold to her bethroded to serve her husband like other women. Everyone said she was lucky, why? Because her bethroded was wealthy, compared to the farmers who could only work under him, but what did that have to do with her if he was this or that, she wanted her own life, not his. Neither did she want to kowtow in front of him, eating only after he does and bending her back to him. She didn't want to be his machine and give birth to his tens of children and then share him with other women. What for? Serving him and walking behind him as if his well being depended on hers or hers could only depend on his. Indepence, what was that? No one showed her what it looked like, but her aunty had explained everything to her and she explained it in one word. Your achievements. "Lacy!" Snapping out of trance, Lacy turned to gaze at the young maiden in front of her, she had a beautiful slightly tanned skin, midnight hair that had been tied into a neat Pony tail with care, her oval face accentuated her delicate yet tough features. She was just as pretty as a wild flower, but if one could give her a three seconds observation, they would immediately recognize the striking ressemblance she had with Lacy about 50% in ressemblance.