Find Your Fortune At Rivalry – The Best Casino Site For Indian Players – For fans of Amy Tan, KJ Dell’Antonia and Kevin Kwan, this first “sharp, smart and wonderful extra” (Nancy Juyun Kim, Mina Lee final story) celebrates a family of busy Vietnamese women who deal with shocks and unexpected events. experience the . Joy after a psychic makes a shocking prediction about their lives.
It all started with their ancestor, Onh, who dared to leave his marriage for true love – then a terrifying Vietnamese witch cursed Onh and his descendants to never find love or happiness, and Duong women will ever give birth to daughters, never. son
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Onh’s current descendant, My Nguyen, knows this curse well. Divorced and, after an explosive incident a decade earlier, estranged from her younger sisters Minh Pham (the middle-aged and middle-aged) and Khuyen Lam (the youngest who swears), she lives only in humble coffee shops and beauty salons. Runs the salon, not Little Saigon. underground, to hide). ). While Mai’s three adult daughters, Priscilla, Thuy and Thao, are all successful in their careers (one of them is John Cho’s dermatologist!), the same cannot be said for their love lives. Mai is sure they can lead him to a quick death.
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Desperate for guidance, she consults her trusted medium Aunt Hua in Hawaii, who makes an unexpected prediction: this year, her family will witness a wedding, a funeral, and the birth of a baby. This prophecy will bring mothers, daughters, aunts and distant cousins together – for better or for worse.
A multi-narrative novel brimming with sincerity and candor, The Fortunes of Jaded Women is about grieving, intervening, celebrating and healing together as a family. It shows how Vietnamese women have become winners, even when the world is against them.
They heard that the curse began in Vietnam when Onh Duong’s former mother-in-law, Lan Hong, traveled north to visit a lone witch living in Sa Pa, in the foothills of the Hong Lien Son Mountains. Travel through unstable terrain was treacherous; Only truly demonic souls who wanted to curse others for generations would survive. Like all scorned Vietnamese women, Lan Hong longed for a scar that would banish her impudent daughter-in-law and all her future relatives forever. He didn’t know how it would go.
The night Len arrived at Shant Village, she was exhausted. The changing weather invaded all four seasons within days, and she wasn’t as prepared as she thought. The roar of the wind had become his enemy one day and his friend the next. Fortunately, his hired guide had enough shearling to keep him warm during the final leg of his journey. He begged her to take him to see the witch at once. The more time wasted, the closer you will be to conceiving a child.
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The guide dropped Len off in front of a small white stone house at the foot of the mountains and wished him good luck, though he wasn’t sure he meant it. The old man took many desperate women – mothers, daughters and sisters – from all over the country to meet the witch, but she never set foot inside. He knew better than to disrupt the flow of the universe. Only women were brave enough to tempt such a fate.
Like all the other French colonial houses that lined the dirt road, the front of the house had stone pillars, like Atlas supporting the weight of the world. Wild ivy wrapped around them, reflecting the hands that held tightly to every lost soul that entered. While the outside was welcoming, the inside seemed like the light could never get in, no matter how hard it tried.
Len shivered, suddenly nervous for the first time on her trip. She had dreamed of this moment for months, and now that it was finally here, she was terrified. Afraid of what she will become if she continues this. Will there be a soul after him? As he questions his decision, the cracked wooden front door swings open, releasing a sinister pheromone, enticing Len to enter. The witch’s face peeked out from the shadows, and she opened the door and waved at him. The woman was younger than he imagined, and there was an awkwardness about her that Len couldn’t quite place. Although quite angular with her facial structure, unusual for the Vietnamese, the witch’s beauty was enhanced by her dark hair that grew wildly in all directions. Len couldn’t figure out his age; Every time he tried to guess, he felt his eyes betraying him.
“You’re late.” The witch’s voice held a hint of irritation, but her mischievous eyes worried Len even more. She couldn’t read the intent behind them, but she could feel the temptation, and it grated on her nerves. “Hurry up, you’re leaving the heat.” Len didn’t ask how he knew it was coming. She didn’t want to know more than she had to because she was afraid of the ghosts and spirits that haunted her house. She was already testing the patience of the universe by being there.
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Len creeped into the house and followed the woman into the bedroom. His nose twitched at the pungent smell that permeated the room. He saw a man in the corner, his face hidden behind shadows and a hat. His age was also worthless. He was busy pressing a gelatinous substance in his mortar. Behind him, glass vials filled with suspicious liquids and dried herbs swayed back and forth, desperately trying to keep up with each other to avoid tipping over as much as possible. He kept his eyes on Len as she walked past him. The veins on his hands came dangerously close to revealing his true age. He swallowed the rock in his throat, regret bubbling up once more.
“Snake heart,” the witch said, as if answering Len’s thoughts. “It makes men stronger. To have more children.
The witch quickly ushered Len into the windowless back room and motioned for Len to sit on the cushions on the floor. He took his place at the circular wooden table, heated the water and took out some cups. The rickety table between them was the only thing keeping the gates of Hell from opening for Lan, and he prayed the table would hold the barrier, just for a little while.
“Why did you come?” The witch asked as she placed the tea leaves in a cup and sprinkled hot water over the leaves, letting the aroma open first.
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“My daughter-in-law,” Len said. “He betrayed his duties. She left my eldest son, her husband, for another man. A Cambodian man no less. Claims he is in love. Stupid girl.” Len gave a huff of stern displeasure.
“Well, restlessness can kill you slowly,” said the witch. He closed his eyes and let the currents move over his body so that he could see all that was past, present and to come. “Your daughter-in-law is pregnant.”
“I knew it. That whore. No wonder she was gone so quickly—Len’s teeth were clenched. Suddenly, her nerves were gone and she just splattered Onh’s blood all over the country. could see his desire to see in. He did. He looked down. at his hands, saw what he was capable of, and it no longer frightened him.
“That was supposed to be my grandson,” Len yelled. “This girl does not deserve love and having a first child. Vietnamese women cannot have both.
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“Then tell me what you want,” the witch said mischievously, with a hint of malice in her tone. “Believe it or not, I can’t read minds.”
“I curse Onh Duong to wander the afterlife alone. When he dies he is unable to see his children. And I curse all your children’s children, and all those who follow them, to never know love and marry badly. And as a result, their husbands do not invite Onh to visit their ancestral altar,” Lan said without hesitation.
The witch quickly opened her eyes and looked deep into Len as she was consumed by her own cruel desires. Ivy wrapped around the outer pillars added to its dominance. Both recognized the weight of the curse and the meaning behind it: daughters could not invite their ancestors to their homes without their husband’s permission. And bad husbands meant that patriarchy would be locked away forever.
“So I curse Onh Duang to have only daughters,” the witch said in a controlled voice. “These daughters will become women, and when these women become mothers, they will only have daughters. Each daughter carries the burden of her mother’s sins and never escapes this cycle. “
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“Thank you, Auntie,” Len whispered, scared but relieved. She felt powerful in the moment, as if she had transcended wisdom. His revenge had scared him, but there was no turning back now. “Now what will happen to the baby inside her?”
A few months later, Onh Doong miscarried. He mourned the loss of whatever he could have been
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