2 An Arranged Marriage

The distinct biting smell of herbal medicine gathered around the wooden counter before me, enveloping me in a separate reality. Here, the dull pounding melody of the mortar and pestle drowned out the cries for war, and the gathering smoke blotted out the withered bodies of the beggars lined around the streets. But even so, from the windows propped slightly open, the harsh truth of the outside world still seeped into the apothecary.

"By this time next year, we'll have a plump son and maybe a cow too!" My soon-to-be husband looked at me expectedly with his beady eyes, flashing two rows of yellow teeth as he dragged my thoughts back to the present. Just as a few droplets of spit flew from his mouth, I couldn't help but notice a tiny piece of green clinging to his top incisors—a visible remnant from lunch.

I did my best to conceal my displeasure, telling myself to ignore these nagging thoughts as I instead acknowledged his coarse words with a slow nod before returning to the unfinished pile of herbal powder before me. The apothecary was my only sanctuary, but somehow, I had always forgotten that he was the son of its owner. Perhaps it was because he was never here, and when he was, he was visibly out of place.

Without warning, he reached for the cup on the other side of the counter, brushing too uncomfortably close to me for my liking. I inched away in time, but the herbs I had been grinding were not that fortunate.

As he motioned towards me, he knocked over the stone mortar, and I could only watch as it toppled over helplessly. His wide sleeves swept up a gust of wind, and thousands of brown specks drifted away, falling to the floor before being pulled up by another draft of air.

There was a sense of lament as my morning's worth of hard work was ruined but also a tinge of longing. Though they too couldn't control their courses of action, at least the specks were free to wander the world as they pleased. In that sense, they were better off than me.

"Men and women should maintain a healthy distance," I said, trying to keep my voice flat so that it revealed none of my inner frustration.

"But husband and wife should not be so," he protested lazily, motioning to touch my cheeks, his eyes betraying a tinge of lust.

"Brother Liu, we are not yet engaged. Until the three days pass without fault, the Heavens have not approved of this marriage," I reasoned, grimacing internally as I said the words. Though I was never one to believe entirely in superstition, it made for a convenient excuse, especially for a man from a traditional family. And it was true. If anything went wrong in the three days since we exchanged tokens, this union would be said to be frowned upon by the Heavens.

I've heard of some instances where girls purposefully pricked themselves or shattered a plate to represent bad fortune, but if fate could be so easily altered, then why believe in it in the first place?

"Youshi, our families are of equal social status. Plus, I've known you since you were just this tall," he bent down and motioned to the height of his knees. "Since we tucked your token under our altar this morning, I found a few new sprouts!" I wanted to retort that such was the cycle of life, but I knew I shouldn't.

Somehow, I had known him my entire life, but we were still no more than strangers.

He was the only son of an apothecarist but instead preferred the idle life of a farmer, claiming he didn't want the responsibility of human lives resting on his hands. And when the kingdom called for men to defend the Southern borders, he feigned illness to avoid his duties.

But he had always been goodnatured. Quite a gentleman, he would run across town to pick up Miss Wang's newest dress from the seamstress. And if Miss Qian ever needed a hand, he would be the first at her door. In the same fashion, seeing me take an interest in medicine, he pleaded with his father for me to become their family apprentice.

Why me? Even if he wanted to, he could never wed Miss Wang or Qian. Maybe he could take them for mistresses, but the title of a wife was never within their reach. Miss Wang was the daughter of a silk merchant, wealthy but of low class. And Miss Qian was the third daughter born of a former prostitute, not a true bearer of the family name.

So of the girls of unwedded age, only I was left. My uncle, though a poor and lowly official, was unchangeably the brother of the empress. And me, an adopted child, was still the daughter of a deceased lord. A noble birth spoke more than countless riches, so as soon as my rite of passage occurred, I became a valuable asset to be considered.

If I was going to marry, it was better Brother Liu than anyone else. To hope for true love was impractical. With Brother Liu, at least I could remain at the apothecary and nurture it into the best clinic in the entire kingdom while not losing face for my uncle.

Sure, he was far from the hero I once dreamt of. But as tempting as it appeared, love did not exist outside of stories, especially not in a war-torn time such as this.

"But if to win a single heart, till white hair shall not part," I accidentally said aloud, momentarily too caught up in my thoughts. To dismiss such a former yearning was harder than I imagined. Quickly averting eye contact in case he thought the love poem was for him, I looked out the window.

Across the street, amidst the peddlers and beggars, a middle-aged foreign man stood out. He wore the typical attires of Liang, but with his rugged beard and slightly curled hair, there was no mistake that he bore the distinct qualities of a Northerner. He stood under the blooming peach blossom tree, casually fanning himself with a paper fan, glancing around occasionally as if waiting for someone.

That was when he looked me straight in the eye.