Fascination – Part 03
A long, long time ago, the enormous continent of Asia was engulfed in the flames of war. Several nations perpetually fought over the vast land of China. Meanwhile, rare goods arrived from Persia and Turkey via the Silk Road, causing civilization to flourish.
This ancient tale begins with the story of a small tribe of horsemen in Mongolia, north of the Chinese mainland.
They rode horses, herded sheep, and lived in tents across the vast, dry continent, moving from west to east, depending on the season. The chief of the small tribe had several wives. One of them, the fifth wife, with golden hair and of foreign blood, had a beautiful child from a previous marriage, with golden hair like her own. Her child was female and fourteen years old. Her eyes were grayish, and she had a rare appearance not found among her people. She was quite pretty, but she was unruly, and would not listen to her father, the chief of the tribe. And for a people who married at an early age, she was an outlier, for she never loved anyone. Perhaps it was because of her golden hair, her gray eyes, or some other reason. For as long as she could remember, she had always felt like she didn’t belong.
The girl’s name was Bairen.
Every day, Bairen rode her horse across the northern lands. She was well-built for a fourteen-year-old, and the way she rode, with her golden hair fluttering in the wind, was truly masterful. The chief once remarked that he wished she had been a boy. Indeed, her gray eyes seemed to hold a strong will, and he might have made a fine young chief had she been a man.
The sons of the second and third wives, in other words, Bairen’s brothers-in-law, wanted Bairen as their wife. Living in a harsh natural environment, they preferred women who were strong and could bear many children. The girl, however, eluded their advances. Despite living in a gray, dry land, her eyes had always been set on other places—a world yet unseen beyond the Silk Road, or China, with its warring, gorgeous culture.
One day, however, a terrible fate befell Bairen. Her mother, the fifth wife, had fallen ill.
Tribal law dictated that as a stepdaughter, Bairen had to become the new fifth wife of the chief when her mother died. But the chief was three times older than she was; she could not see him as a husband. Bairen trembled every day as she lay on her mother’s bed.
Ten days later, Bairen’s mother passed away, and she had to become the chief’s fifth wife.
Bairen prayed to the god of the earth. She pleaded to be taken somewhere else. She didn’t want to be the wife of a much older man and have no freedom, serving only to give birth to a child, raise them, and then crumble to dust in the end. One night while she was praying, a man came from across the land.
It was a middle-aged man, riding a horse and wearing unfamiliar clothes. He had a black mustache and a horrifying face like some evil demon, but when he saw Bairen, he smiled broadly.
“You’re the spitting image of your mother,” the man said.
The man was a warlord of a nation in distant China. He said that he learned about her mother’s death, and had come to take her daughter away.
“Why?” Bairen asked. “Do you know my mother?”
“I am your father. She fled this far north with her child because she was afraid that I might use her.”
Bairen was shocked.
But she was also captivated by the man’s fine looks. She was fascinated by the land of China, a land she had never seen before. She looked back at the clan’s tents, where they were preparing for the wedding. The young Bairen had no attachments to this land. Bidding farewell to her mother in her heart, she and the man set off on horseback.
A few days later, they arrived at a gorgeous Chinese city.
The sun had long set outside, and the glow of a rosy evening enveloped the surroundings. The lace curtains swayed softly in the faint breeze.
“Don’t burn it now,” Victorique said wearily.
“R-Right.”
Kazuya looked into the pot. The glacé was glittering a delicious orange color.
He nodded. “All good.”
“I see. Very well, then.” There was a hint of excitement in Victorique’s voice. The sweet aroma of carrots filled the room. Her small, pretty nose twitched. “On a different note, I did not hear about any mandrake in your story at all.”
“J-Just wait a bit. A little later, the Chinese warlord will die. Then the mandrake will grow.”
“It hasn’t grown yet? What a long-winded story.” Victorique sounded unusually relaxed.
“Anyway, Bairen and the warlord made it to China. Then, Bairen encounters a young man, and the warlord dies.”
“Hmm.”
“I’ll continue.”
Dusk thickened, its light shining on the candy house. The colorful flowers in the surroundings began to close their petals to prepare for the approaching late-summer night.
The land of China was a magnificent city, so gorgeous that it made one instantly forget about life in the dry lands of the north. Silks, jade, colorful buildings. Women with their glossy, black hair tied up high, and fashionable men.
The warlord secretly told Bairen about a young man. His name was Yuki, the warlord’s son and heir. Bairen found herself fascinated by this young man, who could be her older brother. Yuki was a very elegant and beautiful man, with black hair and almond-shaped eyes. He was an officer in the government, but his father wanted him to rise above him and rule the country. Bairen decided to join the royal court as a servant. She went in and out of the castle freely, where only women were allowed to enter, and eavesdropped on the bedchamber conversations between the king and his wives. Together with her father, she decided to help gather information for Yuki’s promotion. She wondered if this was exactly what her mother feared, but she didn’t think she was being used. She was simply captivated by the sight of Yuki, with whom she had never exchanged a single word.
Two years passed.
Yuki rose steadily through the ranks, while his father became a renowned military commander. One day, however, a long-time political enemy led the man into a trap, and he was sentenced to death without getting the chance to clear his name.
Bairen ran to her father, who had been arrested. From his prison cell, her father appealed to her.
“After I’m gone, you must make Yuki the leader of this land.”
Bairen gave him her word.
The next morning, her father was beheaded. That night, Bairen snuck into the courtyard of the royal palace, dripping with blood and tears, and found Yuki there too. The two finally met.
“Who are you?” Yuki asked.
Bairen did not answer. She didn’t know what to say.
“I… I am your shadow.”
“Shadow? Mine?”
“Yes. I worked with your father.”
Yuki stared at the unusual golden hair and dark gray eyes that held fervor.
At that time, Bairen found a strange, black plant growing out of the ground. She had never seen it before. She remembered the legend of the mandrake, the rumor of a mysterious plant that came along the Silk Road.
A cursed plant that grew when the tears of an innocent sentenced to death fell to the ground.
Yuki said that now that his father was gone and he had no one to back him up, he would not be able to climb any higher up the ranks.
Bairen shook her head. “We still have a last resort. See this mandrake?”
After receiving a lock of Yuki’s hair, Bairen pulled out the mandrake, grown from her father’s tears, and used it according to legends. She made a cursed aphrodisiac.
There was a saying that the one who made the aphrodisiac would be cursed themselves, but Bairen didn’t care. She would fall victim to the curse, not Yuki.
Bairen mashed and boiled the pitch-black plant, turning it into a red-colored juice that splashed vigorously out of the pot. One drop entered Bairen’s mouth. Shocked, she quickly rinsed it out. Then, she returned to the palace and gave it to the princess, the king’s only heir, to drink.
The princess liked Yuki, whom she had met at a function at the royal palace. Yuki himself was a brilliant official. Their marriage proceeded smoothly.
After that, Yuki became a fine king, fighting bravely and steadily expanding his territory.
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