"Smack!" "What's the matter with you?" He Laotai's voice cut through the courtyard like a door slamming. "You heard me," the old woman barked. "He's here. Zhao Pandai is getting married." "Married?" One of the brothers laughed. "To who? Someone with coin, I hope." I blinked at the patched shawl on my shoulders, at the rough palm that had just landed across my face, and then at He Laotai's hard mouth. The world smelled of smoke and old cloth. Men were already crowding, voices overlapping. "He Laotai, you don't—" a younger voice started. "Shut up. Pandai's had her share of luck." He Laotai pointed at me. "She'll bring a bride price. A girl off our lot will do more than sulking." "Who is the groom?" I asked, because asking slows time. "What? You can't even speak properly for yourself?" one brother sneered. "He comes from Guanghai. My cousin said his family runs a small wholesale outfit. They buy girls for work. Good price." He Laotai's eyes narrowed. "Three days. They can take her then." I kept my face steady. I let their words land and fold themselves into data. Guanghai. Wholesale. Three days. Bride price. Those words lit cold logic behind my ribs. "Pandai," another man said, loud enough that the whole courtyard turned. "We shouldn't waste time. Send a boy to the market; buy her some new shoes. Make her look the part." "New shoes?" I said. "Can I