Under the Willow Tree

The carriage was small, pulled along by a single graying horse. With every bump in the forest road, the whole vehicle shook violently, its coarse cloth curtains fluttering up briefly. The lanky carriage boy sitting up front attempted to maneuver around the ridges, but inexperience made him thoroughly unsuccessful. 

Veering from the main dirt road, the carriage traveled down a path that gradually narrowed into a forest trail. As the sudden lurches intensified, the horse’s steps slowed until they halted entirely. The boy shouted and lashed, but the beast would not budge. A voice from inside the vehicle quieted the boy, and he hurried to place a stepping stool down in front of the carriage entrance. 

After a moment, the cloth flap covering the entrance was pushed aside, and a man emerged, his grey robes as plain as the carriage, a sword sheathed by his side. The man was well built, with broad shoulders and a straight back. Creases lined the edge of each eye, and the corners of his lips rose upwards automatically when he spoke. He stood by the carriage and used one arm to hold open the flap; the other arm was placed inside for his companion—a woman—to hold onto as she carefully stepped out. 

She was a stark contrast to everything else about the carriage. Her flowing silk robes were decorated with golden lilies, each thread stitched on with utmost precision, creating a flawless cascade of blooms. Ornate gold hairpins adorned with pearls were arranged in her silky black locks. Around a dainty wrist was a jade bangle, imperial green in color, and possessing an alluring brilliance. She had a charming face with large eyes and slender brows. But all the luxury and beauty could not conceal her pallid complexion and weakened breaths. As she emerged, she gripped the man’s arm as if she would fall without it. When she had fully exited the carriage, he swept her up and carried her among his arms. She uttered feeble protests, but was hushed by the man soothingly. He exchanged nods with the carriage boy and was off, leaving the boy alone with his horse and the memories of the goddess he had just seen. 

The man walked steadily, the woman in his arms, along the forest trail until he reached a small clearing. At the clearing’s center was a shallow pond overflowing with lily pads, the occasional water lily adding a spot of pink among the green. To the side rose a weeping willow, it's branches forming an emerald curtain swaying in the breeze. Tall grasses dotted with wildflowers filled the rest of the clearing, with a faint parting in the grasses marking out a path to the willow. The man settled the woman down against the tree, making sure of her comfort, before sitting down himself and taking her into his arms once again. 

Peacefully, they sat like that, looking out onto the pond, content in each other’s embrace. She was the first to speak, her voice barely a whisper. "Remember when we first came here-" her words were cut off by a sudden cough, and a handkerchief was quickly brought up to her mouth. The fabric came away with a new spot of red, and she gripped it tightly for a moment before loosening her hold, defeat in her limbs and acceptance in her eyes. 

The man tightened his hold on her, taking the stained handkerchief away and handing her a new one. "Shh, save your energy. You will need it to get better, you know."

She smiled wistfully at that. "Yes, of course."

He spoke again, this time with a nostalgic tone, "That was soon after we first met. You told me to take you away to paradise, and so I brought you here." After a moment's pause, he added with a laugh, "I remember you tried to catch the fish in that pond and ended up falling inside. I was about to jump in and fish you out when you emerged, holding onto a tiny little minnow." They both smiled, reminiscing about the simpler times.

Silence fell upon the two once more. Together, they watched as a dragonfly lighted onto the tip of a water lily, pausing to rub a leg against its face. When the insect flew away, its wings glinting as it caught the sunlight, she ventured quietly, "You said, you had something to tell me?"

He started slightly. "Yes, I-" he paused, as if gathering the courage to say his next words, with a hesitance of manner that was rarely seen of him. "I have something to say,” another pause, “something to ask, too."

She closed her eyes and pressed against his solid chest, his heartbeat strong and warm in her ear. "Please, go on."

Hugging her close, he began to speak. "Before I met you I was only a wandering swordsman, with the earth as my home and the skies as my roof. With nothing more than the clothes on my back and this sword by my side, I was content on roaming the rivers and mountains for twenty years. But then,” he broke off, gently caressing her hair. “Then, I met you,” bending down, he kissed her hair softly.

“That thief in LiYuan,” she breathed out, a faint smile dancing on her colorless lips. 

Chuckling, he replied, “Yes, bless that thief, for if he had not chosen that moment to steal, we would not have chased him down together. If not for that, I would never have met you.” 

He continued, voice turning solemn, “But you are the high lady, eldest daughter of the Lord Chancellor, worth more than all the gold and silver I have ever seen and have ever dared dream of. I was nothing compared to you, compared to your other suitors. So I gave up my traveling ways and joined His Majesty's army, seeking to become a man worthy enough to ask for your hand."

At this, she opened her eyes and pressed her hand lightly on his sleeve, too weak to make any more movement. He took her hand in his own, brushing his thumb over her fingers reassuringly, "I have never regretted that choice. Never."

Then he carefully released her, resting her comfortably against the willow before stepping back a few paces. He stopped just inside the veil of green leaves, and bowed towards her in the customary fashion—hands clasped together in front, arms bent at the elbows and slightly below the head. She watched curiously as he spoke, his head still bowed, "I am a humble soldier in His Majesty's army, with no talents other than that of the sword,” at this he looked up and their eyes met. “But I vow that as long as I breathe, and as long as the world lives, to love you and cherish you and bring you happiness. So I dare ask, would the beautiful lady— my earth and my skies, worth more than all the rivers and all the mountains— would she tell me her hour of birth?" Ducking his head down, he bowed even lower, then bashfully raised his head to see her reaction.

"Oh!" She exclaimed softly, her pale cheeks blooming pink. “Oh!” She too looked down shyly, before lifting her eyes to meet his. Clutching the grasses by her side, she strained to sit up taller. Though she failed, her smile did not fade. A whisper came next, "I was born-" a fit of coughing broke up her words. Immediately, he went to her, but she pressed against him firmly and he stood back. She spoke again, determination in her quivering voice, her eyes glistening and pure. "I was born the eldest daughter of the house in the year-” she paused briefly to swallow back another cough, “-in the year of the wood monkey, second month, twentieth day, in the hour of the horse." Long lashes fluttered slightly, "And you?"

Beaming wildly, he hurried to bow again, "And I on the year of the metal dragon, sixth month, twelfth day, in the hour of the tiger!" After finishing, he cocked his head to the side, both brows pinched upwards comically. He brought his right hand up and fiddled the thumb around the other four fingers, muttering numbers under his breath. Then he looked back at her, triumphant. "If my calculations are correct, the stars and moon at those two times were in heavenly alignment. An excellent match we are, destined by the heavens themselves!"

She laughed merrily at his show, knowing full well he knew nothing of neither numbers nor astronomy. The laughter was quickly suppressed, as was the urge to cough that followed. 

As he continued, she watched intently, scarcely blinking, as if trying to memorize every tug of his lips and gesture of his hands. “Don’t laugh, it’s true! I am known far and wide for my abilities, you know!" he teased. Then he pulled out a jade pendant from his waist, growing serious, "This, for you. It was left to me by my mother, who's last request was to have it worn by her future daughter."

Wordlessly, she accepted the pendant and allowed him to tie it around her own waist. As he did so, she pressed a new handkerchief into his hands. It was one with flowers she had sewn herself, a task performed after becoming ill. The sewing was not of her best quality, for her hands had shaken too much to hold the needle steady. It had taken hours to add on a single petal, days to complete two whole blooms with her name on the side. She had sewn and resewn, over and over, until it was just perfect. It would be her last gift to the one she loved most, after all.

He took the handkerchief gently and tucked it inside his robes at the place closest to his heart. Then he held her in his arms once more, cheerful voice back. "Now, we must find an auspicious day! Let me see, how about in three day's time?" When there was no reply he continued on, with a softer tone that shook slightly. "Yes, in three days time, I will come to take your hand, and we will be husband and wife." He tried to smile, but for once his lips failed him. A single tear slid down his face. "I will build us a house, right here in this paradise. We will have many children, so many children. Right?" 

The branches of the willow rose up briefly and the water lilies bobbed up and down. The scent of wildflowers approached the willow tree, and with the fragrant wind, her last breath went.