By the time the heir could truly use his left hand to write and eat, it was New Year’s Eve.
He had written the couplets hanging in the courtyard himself.
Auntie Hoa and her husband had gone back to their hometown for the New Year, leaving just the three of us at home. Since the brothers were still in mourning, I only made a few simple dishes.
I was so happy. It had been ages since I’d had anyone to celebrate the New Year with.
Over dinner, I excitedly talked about our plans for the future. But when I mentioned wanting the little boy to sit for the palace exams and become the top scholar, he fell silent.
The heir smiled faintly and explained that, because the Vệ Quốc Marquis’s household had been implicated in treason, its descendants for three generations were barred from taking the civil service examinations.
I was stunned…
Business was slow during the first month of the lunar year, but I figured a little money was still money, so I kept my stall open.
On the eighth day, heavy snow began to fall. I was nodding off behind my stall when the older woman next door cheerfully told me that a traveling high monk was on Mount Phu Tu. He was said to be a remarkably skilled physician and might be able to heal the heir’s limbs. But he would probably be leaving in a day or two.
Overjoyed, I wrapped up two pieces of tofu as a gift for her. She left happily.
After packing up my stall, I left the house in the little boy’s care and immediately helped the heir into the donkey cart. I wrapped him snugly in a thick quilt and covered it with a rain cape.
The heir told me not to go. The snow was falling hard, it was bitterly cold, and we didn’t even know whether the high monk was any good.
I refused. We had to give it a try. The heir sighed and said nothing more.
The snow grew heavier and heavier. I brushed it off the cart’s canopy and struggled to lead the donkey along the snow-covered road.
The wind was bone-chilling, slashing at my face like a knife. I stopped and turned to look at him. Thankfully, aside from a slight flush on his face, he seemed all right.
“Why don’t we rest for a bit?” the heir urged.
“I’m fine. I’m not tired.”
I really wasn’t tired, but halfway there, the donkey was. It planted its feet and refused to move.
I was furious, but there was nothing I could do. I had to find a nearby household and pay a few coins for the older woman there to watch the donkey until I came back.
The heir urged me to turn back again, but I refused. We were already more than halfway there.
I tied the cart’s rope around my shoulders and felt the strain bite into me. The snow was so deep that every step sank to my calves. My shoes had long since soaked through, and my whole body went from freezing cold to burning hot.
I panted like an old ox, trudging along in fits and starts.
11
But the result was disappointing. The high monk had no way to heal the heir’s hands and legs.
I couldn’t hide my disappointment.
The heir noticed my drenched shoes and asked a young monk at the temple to bring me hot water.
After that trip, I got chilblains on my hands and feet, and they itched unbearably.
Later, the heir found a remedy in a book and helped ease the itching.
After the New Year, a matchmaker came to the door. I thought she was there to arrange a marriage for me, but it turned out she was there for the heir.
The young woman was the only daughter of the town’s silk shop owner. She didn’t mind that the heir was disabled; she only wanted him to marry into her family.
The heir’s face turned cold, and he sent the matchmaker away.
I admit, I suddenly felt a little happy.
When spring came, the heir found a job.
He worked with the old gentleman at the end of the street, writing letters for people.
He was so handsome that simply sitting there made a lovely picture, so many young women came to have him write letters for them. Business was booming.
At first, the old gentleman wasn’t pleased. But when the heir gave him a quarter of what he earned, the man beamed and praised his intelligence and beautiful handwriting.
One day, he brought home a silver butterfly hairpin as a gift for me.
Taken by surprise and flustered, I hurriedly refused it. He simply tossed it onto my table, then wheeled himself away.
That night, under the covers, I gazed at the silver hairpin and blushed in silence.
I thought life would go on like that, spring turning to winter. But on the second anniversary of the Marquis of Vệ Quốc’s death, a group of people came to the house.
A pretty little girl rushed into his arms, sobbing, “Senior Brother!”
I froze, pulled back the foot I’d just stepped into the main room, and turned toward the kitchen.
He had seen me too, but he didn’t call me back.
In the kitchen, Auntie Hoa was indignant on my behalf. She had always thought the heir and I would end up together.
I shook my head, signaling for her to stop.
Carrying a tray of tea into the main hall, I heard the little girl look at me and ask with a smile:
“Senior Brother, is this the maid you bought afterward?”
A maid?
I said nothing, only quietly set down the tea.
“She’s not a maid. She’s my older sister!” The little boy marched over angrily and pulled me down into a chair.
“Doanh Nhi, she’s my benefactor. Don’t be rude.” The heir fixed the little girl with a cold stare. She pouted in grievance, huffed, and turned away, but not before shooting me a glare.
The old man who had come with her scolded her softly, but she paid him no mind.
I didn’t leave either. I sat there calmly. After all, this was my home.
The old man examined the heir’s injuries carefully, now shaking his head, now nodding. Then he said:
“If anyone else had suffered this injury, there’d be no hope. But as it happens, you’ve found me…”
At his words, the little boy and I immediately lit up.
“To recover, the bones in your legs will have to be broken and reset. Can you endure that?”
“Of course I can!” Rarely so excited, the heir looked at the old man and said earnestly, “I’ll have to trouble you, Master.”
The old man nodded. “I’ll need some time to prepare. There’s also a medicinal herb I’ll have to find myself.”
With that, the old man left, while his daughter, Oánh Nhi, stayed behind. I gave her the main bedroom and went to stay with Auntie Hoa.
She really was difficult to please. One moment she’d complain that a dish tasted bad, the next she’d say another one was no good. I did my best to accommodate her. But only when she was in front of the heir did she become gentle and sweet.
Everyone in town knew that my cousin had someone he loved.
Half a month later, the old man returned.
Thinking everything was going smoothly, I was happy for him. But the little boy, meaning well and making a mess of things, laid the most important medicinal herb out in the sun to dry.
The little boy sobbed and slapped himself in the mouth. Holding back my tears, I stepped forward and hugged him.
Though the heir couldn't hide his disappointment, he still beckoned his younger brother over and said gently that he didn't blame him.
Auntie Hoa hesitated, then spoke up. “That herb… I think I’ve seen it before.”
Every eye turned toward her.
She swallowed and said softly, “When I was young, my husband and I saw it on a cliff in our village, on Mount Kê Minh. Its flowers are blue, so I remember it clearly.”
The old man burst out laughing. “That’s right, that’s right! Phách grass fears the sun and likes the shade. It usually grows on north-facing cliffs. You’re exactly right!”
There was hope again.
I gathered the young men of the village and offered each of them one tael of silver to find the phách grass.
Everyone eagerly grabbed their things and headed up the mountain.
Darkness fell, but it did nothing to dampen everyone's enthusiasm.
But the weather turned against us, and it suddenly began to rain. Mount Kê Minh was already treacherous, and many people started to lose heart.
With no other choice, I raised the reward to three taels of silver.
Auntie Hoa and I helped each other along, taking one difficult step at a time.
Around midnight, the rain grew heavier, but at last I found the phách grass.
A strong young man tied a rope around himself and quickly picked it.
The moment it was in my hands, I was overjoyed.
It was easy to climb up, but hard to get down. I nearly slipped and fell off the cliff several times.
But in the end, we made it back safely.
I thought everyone would be asleep, but the house was still brightly lit. They had all been waiting for me.
Only when I handed the phách grass to the old man did I truly breathe a sigh of relief. Then I realized how sore my whole body was.
I wasn't there for the treatment because I had a fever.
When I woke, the old man had already left, taking the heir, the little boy, and his daughter with him. If the silver butterfly hairpin and the memorial tablet for the Marquis of Vệ Quốc and his wife hadn't still been in the room, I would have thought it had all been a dream.
It was all right. I was used to it. As long as I was alive, that was enough.
I came down with a serious illness. Auntie Hoa grumbled, but she still took devoted care of me.
A year went by in the blink of an eye.
In the matchmakers' eyes, I had become a thoroughly unmarriageable old maid, and they said I was past my prime.
Sometimes Auntie Hoa grumbled about how no one had taken an interest in me. She even considered paying someone to marry me.
I stopped her, then went and registered as a female household.
I kept selling tofu as before, and hid the silver hairpin at the very bottom of my chest.
One day, as usual, I received an unwelcome visitor.
It was Oánh Nhi.
She still looked down at me arrogantly and said she wanted to take me to the capital as the heir's concubine.
I thought she must have something wrong with her head.
After I turned her down, she thought for a long while, then said, “That works too. I’ll be the concubine, and you can be his primary wife.”
I asked, “Is this the heir’s reward for me? If it’s a reward, why not give me a sum of silver I can actually use?”
As expected, she stormed off in anger.
But that night, I was drugged unconscious.
Before I passed out, I could only think: What blind fool had decided to kidnap me?
When I opened my eyes, I was tied up tight inside a wooden chest that rocked without stopping.
I knew I was on a boat.
A wave of dizziness hit me, and I threw up all over myself. The men opened the chest and stared at me with disgust.
It wasn't as if I wanted to. I couldn't control my seasickness.
And so, they forced me to eat, then I threw up, over and over for half a month. At last, I set foot on dry land.
From their conversation, I learned that:
The heir had helped the Fifth Prince ascend the throne, while the Third Prince—the Imperial Consort's son—had become a rebel and traitor.
The people who had kidnapped me belonged to the Third Prince.
They wanted to use me to threaten the heir.
Another bunch of lunatics.
I never expected to see him again in circumstances like these.
He was tall and handsome, having regained the bearing of a nobleman.
I, meanwhile, was a complete mess, covered in vomit and with a knife held to my throat.
Beside him stood the fairy maiden I'd met before. Only now did I learn that she had once been the woman he loved.
The Third Prince seemed eager to taunt the heir. He asked,
“Between that woman and her, whom will you choose?”
Was there even a choice?
Even without him saying a word, I knew the answer.
Seeing the arrow aimed at me, I closed my eyes, ready to die.
A sharp thwack rang out. The arrow pierced flesh, and blood splattered all over my face.
I opened my eyes and saw the fairy maiden staring wide-eyed in horror, fresh blood spilling from her mouth.
The man who had held a knife to my throat suddenly turned traitor. He cut down the people around him and got me out of the encirclement.
He threw his bow to the ground and hurried over, leaning on his cane. He pulled me into his arms, heedless of the stains on my clothes.
“Mật Nhi, don't be afraid. I'll take you home.”
15
I refused to return to the capital with the heir.
“Huh? Why?” he asked me.
“I don't want to.” I answered softly.
A life of wealth and luxury was certainly nice, but I only liked my little courtyard.
The heir fell silent.
“You'll let me go, won't you?” I asked him cautiously.
Today he was very different from how he'd been in the days before. He had returned to the lofty bearing of an heir, and it frightened me a little.
“Of course.” After a long while, he answered.
I breathed a sigh of relief. At last, I could let go of those vague lingering feelings.
Back in town, my tofu shop grew more prosperous by the day. Counting my silver every day made me very happy.
It was only at night that I felt a little lonely.
After thinking it over, I decided I might as well marry and start a family. Once I had a child, I wouldn't be lonely anymore. If we didn't get along, we could always part ways and I'd keep the child.
I went to the most famous matchmaker in town.
I paid a hefty sum, and the matchmaker found me several promising prospects. They were all literate scholars, but their looks left much to be desired, so I wasn't very satisfied.
I was nearly ready to give up hope.
One day, the matchmaker came to me beaming and said she'd found a good “catch.”
I no longer trusted her, so I couldn't be bothered to go take a look.
As I sat watching my stall, nodding off, a familiar, cool voice sounded beside me:
“Miss, why didn't you come as promised? I humbly request an audience.”