Prologue
My mother-in-law had hemorrhoids.
She'd picked up some old wives' remedy from God knows where — apparently live loaches were supposed to cure them.
So she went out and bought five pounds of the slimy things, planning to "clear herself out" at home.
I begged her not to. Told her folk remedies were garbage, and dangerous on top of it.
I dragged her to the hospital instead. Got her into surgery. Stayed by her bed the whole time, fed her, cleaned up after her, played the perfect daughter-in-law.
Then she ignored every single thing the doctor told her. Snuck out for spicy hot pot behind my back. And of course — the hemorrhoids came roaring back.
That's when she pointed her finger in my face and screamed.
It was all my fault, apparently. I was the one who'd talked her out of the folk remedy. I was the one who'd put her through surgery for nothing. I'd wasted her money. I'd made her suffer.
I tried to argue. Just a few words.
She lost it. Went feral. Grabbed the back of my head and shoved my face down into the boiling pot of soup.
After I died, my husband signed a letter of forgiveness on her behalf. Then he stole every cent of my family's money. And he hounded my parents until they were both dead too.
Now I'm living it all over again.
And here she is, walking through the door with five pounds of live loaches in a bucket.
I'm smiling. I'm clapping. I'm practically cheering her on.
"You're absolutely right, Mom. Folk remedies cure what doctors can't. You're so wise. Tell you what — let your sweet daughter-in-law help you with this one personally."
Chapter 1
"Would you look at this! Look what I picked up. Big fat loaches. Twenty bucks a pound. I got five pounds. My condition's finally gonna get better!"
My mother-in-law's voice rang through the living room, and my whole body jolted.
I'd been reborn. Reborn on the exact day she came home with those loaches.
The memory of how I died last time hit me, and I started shaking.
She was from Sichuan. Couldn't get through a single meal without something spicy. But she wasn't young anymore, and all that spice had given her hemorrhoids.
Then she'd dug up some folk remedy from God-knows-where. Something about loaches being slippery, and also "clearing heat and detoxifying." Stick a loach up there, and it'd cure hemorrhoids.
In my last life, I'd done everything I could to stop her. And it ended with me dead.
I hadn't even processed the fact that I'd been reborn before she came barging into my bedroom, loaches dangling from her hand.
She launched right in.
"Folk medicine cures what doctors can't. My hemorrhoids are saved! Jenna, see how good your mom is at running a household? That's how a woman's supposed to live—pinching every penny."
When I didn't answer fast enough, she barked at me.
"Jenna Xavier! You listening? I'm teaching you how to manage a home!"
I snapped out of it and curled my lips into a smile.
"You're right, Mom. You're so smart. Loaches are slippery, and they're a traditional medicine ingredient. They'll definitely cure you. Want me to help? Your daughter-in-law can give you a hand with it."
She waved me off immediately.
"No, no! You're clumsy and stupid. You'd hurt me. Old man! Get in here. Bathroom. Help me put it in."
From the guest bedroom, my father-in-law dragged out a long, whiny reply.
"Coming… for God's sake, you make me do everything…"
I watched her shuffle off toward the bathroom with him trailing behind, and a wicked little thrill curled up in my chest.
You love folk remedies so much? Let's see if this one cures you—or kills you.
A few minutes later, a shriek tore out of the bathroom.
"Ow! Easy, easy!"
"Oh my God… you old bastard, you're being too rough!"
…
Twenty minutes they spent in there. Twenty. Finally they came out, one after the other.
Her posture was something else. Bowlegged like a cowboy, one hand clutching her butt, yelping with every step.
"Ow! Ow, mama!"
My father-in-law looked like he'd been through hell, muttering "disgusting" under his breath the whole way out.
I bit back a laugh. Tough old bird.
I asked, all sweetness:
"Mom, is it that bad? Aw, well—'bitter medicine works best.' Folk remedies are gonna hurt. If it's too much, we could just go to the hospital. Get the surgery."
She shook her head the second I said hospital.
"Hospital, my ass. Those places just rob you blind. And this? This is nothing. I can take it. The remedy says clear as day—five hours a day with a live loach on the spot. Three months, my hemorrhoids are gone."
Jesus Christ. A live loach. Five hours a day.
I almost felt sorry for the loaches. They didn't even get the dignity of a dinner plate—just shoved up an old woman's ass to die.
"Well, alright! Mom, you really know what you're doing. I've got so much to learn from you."
I praised her shamelessly. Inside, I wanted to tear her into a thousand pieces.
My husband's name is Steven Chambers. Country boy. We met in college.
Steven was the textbook phoenix-man—the one golden boy his rural town ever produced. The whole village pinned their hopes on him.
My family lived in the city, but I wasn't some heiress. My parents worked at the local textile mill. Plain, honest, blue-collar people. They raised me the same way—simple, no frills.
That's why, in college, when Steven came after me, I didn't care about where he came from. Didn't care that his family was poor. I really believed two people in love could get through anything.
So when we graduated, we got married. Easy as that.
The apartment we live in now—the marriage house—we'd scraped together a down payment of about fifty grand between both families and taken out a mortgage on the rest.
Less than two months into the marriage, Steven announced he wanted to move his parents in from the country.
And me? I was so deep in love-brain, so soft-hearted about how hard he'd had it, that I actually said yes to that ridiculous request.
The minute they moved in, I figured out exactly what kind of people they were.
