You Must Fall In Love

Chapter Fifteen

The way Mum explained it to her, Chinese magic had no concrete rules whatsoever, and any manual was usually contradicted by at least fifteen other manuals of equal provenance. It was why the Lau family magic was so important — there just wasn't anyone who did it the same way as them.

But there were categories, ancient, venerable and very fuzzy around the edges, great lists that you could fit all beings into. Humans, who lived in the realm of Man. Immortals and spirits, who lived in the realm of Heaven. Animals and plants, who lived in the realm of Earth. Ghosts, who lived in the various hells and underworlds, haunting Man when they felt like it, or to avenge great wrongs.

And when the realms met and mixed like ink and water, gods were born.

"Christine, do you see that man passing by? He could be anything. A were-tiger, a white ape, an immortal."

Eleven-year-old Christine had peered at the old man, bent and tottering on his walker.

"Even a god?" she asked.

Mum had frowned at her, as if she was doing it on purpose.

"Be sensible, Christine Lam. Why would a god be here in Singapore?"

Christine had never doubted the existence of gods again. She knew some of her classmates sneered at temples and churches and mosques, or at least they would have if the government hadn't made it mostly illegal. But to Christine, who lived in a world where businessmen puffed up and died because apparently someone from Indonesia had chanted their names and burned a stillborn baby to ash somewhere, gods were the least unbelievable part of her life.

"Of course I believe in gods," she said. "But you don't, right?"

Jen was Catholic, which Christine didn't know anything about save for the fact that they had nice churches and really liked looking at Jesus pictures. She'd never paid it too much attention as a kid. In Singapore, other religions were things that you respected to the point of apathy.

"Well, it depends on how you define god. Supernatural being with great powers, usually embodying some kind of immaterial phenomenon? Sure. Being worthy of worship and adoration? Not so sure. I don't think they're gods per se, but it's not like there's any reason to discount their existence, either."

"Okay," said Christine. "How does that work?"

"Simple," smiled Jen. "They worshiped Augustus Caesar as a god, right? Just because I don't think he was one doesn't mean ol' Octavian never existed."

"But if they aren't gods, then what are they?"

Jen shrugged.

"If I could tell you, I would be giving talks at Dom-Daniel. Think of it as a concession to the common parlance for now."

"Right," said Christine, eager to get away from the religion and back to the god talk. "So how does it relate to our story?"

"Well," said Jen, displaying her baffling ability to resume a conversation as if the interruption had never happened, "on the day Ming was meant to go to the King of Shao, she ran away from the palanquin-bearers and hid herself in the forest. There, she met Prince Doe, lord of the woods."

"A doe?"

"A deer."

"A female deer?"

"No, a male deer. Prince Doe is a male."

"But why?"

"The balance of yin and yang or something," said Jen. "Now, the records are pretty hazy here, but from what I understand, Prince Doe fell in love with Ming. He said that she would have to become his consort, the Hart Princess."

Consort with the Heart Princess? No, Hart Princess! Like the male deer! Wait.

"But I thought Prince Doe was a deer."

"Of course he's a deer," said Jen. "But he's also a god."

"Ew."

"Look, don't think about it too much, okay? I'm sure they can turn themselves into whatever they want."

"Okay," said Christine, already thinking about it too much. "So she said yes."

"Of course not. She actually ran away from him, right back to her father's house. Now, there's meant to be a big deal with three wishes, anything you want, the whole shebang, but the sources aren't actually agreed on that. I'll get you a proper translation when I can figure which one to use. Point is, Prince Doe never got her, the King of Shao gave up, and she died old and childless."

"Oh," said Christine. "That's... nice."

She didn't know why she felt so sad. Wasn't it good to live free, instead of being married to someone you didn't like?

Or was it different, somehow, when you were worn and wrinkled, and stuck in a bed you couldn't leave?

"I still don't get what it has to do with me," she said, just to get her mind off it.

"Ah, but it has everything to do with you," said Jen, putting her foot on the bed in triumph. "You see, the Hart Princess Ming was worshiped after her death as a goddess of chastity, alongside Prince Doe, god of fertility, when the Duke of Liu's title had become a family name. But at the same time, everyone knew that her love had never been fulfilled. So there came another saying, that one day, in four thousand, four hundred and forty-four years, a woman from the Duke's own line, of the same age and same fate, would come to the temple of the god and choose a consort at last, and with her consort, enter into full divinity. She would be the second Hart Princess. The true one, if you will."

Christine blinked.

"Guess where the Duchy of Liu was," grinned Jen. "What do you think they call it today?"

Christine shoved her face into her hand.

"Fujian Province."

"And what's Liu in Hokkien?" pushed Jen, leaning in even closer.

"Lau."

"Bingo!"

Christine groaned, pinched her brow, and rolled her eyes both ways, maybe even all at once.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!" she burst out. "My grandfather's family left Fujian Province when his grandfather was a child! And there's a whole heap of Lius! I'm... like, at least a million times removed."

"Who said it was you?" said Jen innocently. "I said you had something to do with the story, not that you were the Hart Princess. Let's not get delusions of grandeur here."

Christine deflated, turning into a bit of a pancake atop the Tampax pile.

"But then again," said Jen, looking very sly all of a sudden, "if the astrologers' reports are right, it is the four thousandth, four hundred and forty-fourth year since. And since the maternal line of anyone in China is about as wide as the Milky Way, you probably are related."

Something in her head pointed out, as a last line of defense, that this was a student lodge and not a temple, but the voice at the door knocked it out of her mind.

"Excuse me, Miss Lam, but may I have a moment? Master Robert is here."

Christine shot up off the Tampax, rolled back over in an attempt to hide the Tampax, then gave up and left herself where she was.

"Sorry?"

"It is as I said, Miss Lam," said old Kang, looking serene as ever, like he had no idea what tampons were and didn't care to find out. "Master Robert has returned."

Christine glanced at Jen, who shrugged.

"You might as well get it over and done with," she said, plucking her laptop up off the ground and placing it on the desk. "I know I would."

"Easy for you to say," groused Christine, bouncing a Tampax pack with her elbow.

But there really wasn't anything else she could do to delay the moment, and so she got off the bed and followed Kang, back to the room with the bridal bed.