5 Voiceless Prayers

My aunt immediately took sick. It was the sort that even the best medics couldn't cure—an illness rooted deep within the heart that manifested into an uncomfortable silence. It was almost as if she was caught in a trance, her spirit gone from her mortal flesh.

She crumpled into the corner, gently rocking herself back and forth, a look of worry etched into her face.

"Aunt?"

Never before had I wanted to listen to her nagging so much.

"Aunt?" I gently rest my hand on her shoulder.

She was hiding something. Even a fool could tell that she was hiding something, but seeing her in such a crestfallen state, I couldn't muster the courage to ask.

"Aunt, everything will be alright." I stooped down in front of her, wrapping her into a gentle embrace. With my touch, she immediately recoiled, almost slamming her head against the wall.

Something bit the inside of my heart as my arms fell limp. Maybe my aunt was unknowingly my next victim, and she was just innately defending herself. Perhaps I should really leave before I accidentally hurt her or anyone else again.

Slowly, I stood back up, trying my best not to brush against her during the process. I took a step backward. Don't look. Don't look and leave before it's too late and you hurt someone else. But she rushed forward and clasped onto me, burying her face into my robes as if a child. Her choked sobs bounced off the walls.

Such was the scene my uncle arrived home to witness. We hadn't even noticed he was back until he cleared his throat. "Already missing her? She hasn't even wedded!" He exclaimed lightheartedly, soon to realize that neither of us was in a joking mood.

I repeated the encounter to the best of my ability, watching as his jolly complexion turn into ashen gray and his knuckles whiten. After I spoke the last line, my aunt let out another sharp wail, and the book my uncle was holding hit the ground with a thud.

"Emperor?" His voice came out in a hoarse croak. "Are you sure he said emperor? No, there must be a mistake." He began pacing back and forth. The only time I could remember him being so frantic was the time when we couldn't afford the next meal.

He finally stopped in front of the bookshelf.

"Will you take that chance? If it means leaving us all behind and being trapped inside a palace your entire life, will you take this chance and reverse your fate?" The entire time, he avoided my glance, as if afraid that I would answer yes.

The silence was broken only by my aunt sobbing.

"Uncle, you've known me my entire life. You know my answer. As per the poet Qu Yuan's final words, 'A body pure, dust shall settle not.'" There wasn't a moment of hesitation. "Youshi swears she would never willingly abandon her morals, much less the uncle and aunt who so graciously brought her up, for a mere golden cage of materialistic greed. That isn't breaking my curse but instead adding to my woes."

Each word rang clear while I dropped to the floor in a formal bow, pressing my forehead firmly against the floor.

I was thus locked inside the house for the first time, told not to step outside. Three days, they said, just three days. Even if fate marked me for the demons, they promised they would wrestle me from their grips.

Their attitude towards the engagement took a complete swing. It suddenly became as if I had to wed Brother Liu, or the course of my life would turn towards hell. Day and night, my aunt knelt before our humble bodhisattva shrine, mumbling hymns and praying with her eyes pressed closed. Apart from the occasional "aiya" that slipped, it was hard to believe this woman was my aunt.

Whenever he was home, my uncle kept on pacing back and forth, glancing at the token tucked under the alter every so often as if checking that not a speck of dust dared to land on it. To him, to disturb that tiny slip of red with Brother Liu's name and precise time of birth would wreak havoc to the world.

I played along for the peace of heart, helping with house chores and thumbing through my favorite poetry book rather than heading out to the apothecary. On the bright side, it meant three days of not having to plaster a fake smile and engage in forced small talk, things I would have to do more than enough when I become Madame Liu. With Brother Liu watching over the apothecary, I wouldn't have gotten any work done anyway. Plus, it was but three days of losing freedom, hardly a lifetime.

One day slipped by.

Then another.

That night, I tossed and turned in my bed, trying my best to slip into the world of dreams. Yet thoughts of the day to come plagued my mind. Without fault, by the same time the next night, I would be bound to be a wife, the wife of Brother Liu. What used to be my worst nightmare became a necessity to keep my uncle and aunt from worries and a way to keep me grounded.

But what about the promised chance to prove yourself to not be a curse? Despite my best efforts, a little voice nagged in the back of my head. My last conscience was asking the buddha to bless the coming day before I finally was swept into a sleepless slumber.

By the crack of dawn, I was up and dressed, brewing the tea I would use to greet my future groom. I pinched just the right amount of tea leaves to give flavor while not being wasteful, carefully adding water to our family's treasured and most presentable porcelain teapot.

The matchmaker was sure to be here soon, as dawn signified a new beginning, more than fitting for a soon-to-be couple. Any more delays and the auspicious time would be missed.

My aunt had long fallen into prayer, and from the corner of my eye, I saw my uncle read the same line of the book over and over again, obviously lost.

With each passing minute, the wisps of steam that gathered above the tea dissipated some more, and the warmth crept away from my fingertips.

Please. Please come.

But it's your chance to rewrite your fate. Please stop, I remember begging that cursed idea.

Just when I poured out the cup of tea, I couldn't help but wrinkle my nose. The distinct and vile smell of smoke was in the air, intermingled with it a telltale scent of burning herbs.

In the distance, a thick plume of black smoke rose into the air, settling into an ominous cloud. I knew that direction all too well.

It was the apothecary.