Yui had it all--the beloved daughter of a feudal lord, an unearthly beauty that moves men to write sonnets, and a heart of gold. Only, she wishes for one thing.
To overcome the illness that eats her soul day by day. She folds paper cranes each nigh...
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It was his lucky day, they told him though there wasn't a time when he felt lucky. The few people who had the audacity to call themselves his friends gazed at him with envy and they continuously insisted that the gods themselves touched him with their grace for he was just so lucky. He doubted very much that someone like him was touched by the gods—if anything, he was cursed.
In fact, all the men in this room were cursed, for all of them were slaves. He repeated that fact to them time and time again but they just won't listen.
"I wish I was you," said the scrawny kid beside him. "I can't believe you just happened to pass by when the Fei emissary came looking for workers."
He sighed and answered, "I will be switching masters, that's all."
"Yes but it's the Fei household. Every slave dreams of working there. They said the lord treated slaves as if they were his sons and gave them riches and all that."
"Well, sorry to burst your bubble but that's not true." It could never be true. No lord could be good to a slave. All of them were haughty and corrupt and reminded him of pigs. He'd find immense pleasure if he could only bury one knife in the head of one of them. He was sure that the lord of the household who recently bought him was no different.
"Even if it is a lie, I'd rather work in a household where I can see the lady's pretty face," quipped Ping, the slave who delighted in leering at women.
"True, true," agreed the older slave, to his surprise. Jichul, who was at least twice his age, was one of the few people he truly liked. He was quiet and wise for a mere slave—and he wasn't one to make perverted comments such as that.
But it seemed that Jichul didn't have any underlying wayward thoughts when he continued, "I've seen Lady Yui years back when she was still healthy. She was as bright as a dandelion and her face is befitting of a king's bride."
Ping nodded vigorously. "I have a friend whose sister works at the Fei household and her beauty is not exaggerated. I say she is as lovely as uh, um, er..." He scratched his head to think of a metaphor but when he found none, he said simply, "Well, she is pretty."
"It's not only her beauty that left me breathless. The lady is very compassionate. They said she sees her servants as her sisters. I myself saw her feed a stray cat," Jichul said, looking thoughtful, having retreated to his flashback.
He was tempted to snort. So what if she fed a stray cat? It could as well be a play staged to get the attention of other people. Pompous ladies such as her delighted in the praises of others after all, like a marionette.
"A pity that she's very ill."
This time, he didn't resist snorting. "She is a daughter of one of the most powerful feudal lords. Why, all the shamans would jump at the chance to cure her," he said disdainfully. The true pitiful ones were the poor who died of something as trivial as the common cold or left alone to starve.
