Minda was born into a family that loved and treasured him despite others believing his birth to be a curse.
Guard: "How does it feel to know you're the reason your whole family is dead? Hahaha!"
As he lost all hope and prepared himself to succumb to...
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"Where did things go wrong?" Minda asked himself as he lay on the cold damp stone floor of the Imperial Dungeon. The musky smell unfamiliar to the young man who grew up reading under the cool shade of the old cypress tree. As he closed his eyes he thought back to that large towering cypress tree.
... "Hey Minda! Come inside. Auntie SuSu made your favourite osmanthus cakes."
"Coming, Eldest Brother!" Minda said as he placed his book on the soft grass. He hurried over to his big brother. His eldest brother Menciu was twenty-five years older than him, handsome, and reliable. Minda always looked up to him.
"Don't rush. Mom will be furious with me if you fell." His brother warned with a light-hearted laugh. Minda was never the most athletic and as the youngest he was always treated carefully. When he reached his eldest brother's side his long silvery gray hair was tussled by his brother's big loving hands. Growing up he hated his hair. The only time he didn't hate it was when his brothers played with it. It always felt nice.
... Bang!
As he was reminiscing about the past the dungeon door was slammed opened. Standing there were two imposing men dressed in thick armour. They looked down at him with disgust. The sight of the two guards filled him with dread. The only times they opened the door was for three reasons. Thinking about about which one it could be Minda sighed in relief. In one of the guards hands was a bowl of water-downed porridge. After placing the bowl on the floor and spilling nearly a third of its contents on the filthy floor.
Minda didn't want to eat the porridge. After weeks he knew it would taste awful. However his stomach was twisting in pain after suffering with barely anything to eat or drink. He crawled over and picked up the bowl. He had no spoon but it was unneeded. Their was so much water it was more like a soup than porridge. He brought the bowl up to his pale cracked lips and slowly sipped the porridge that had become cold long ago. It had no flavour and made Minda miss the days he could laugh at his older sister's terrible cooking.
...
Cough! Cough! Cough!
"Open the windows, we need to clear out the smoke. Minda, go outside. It's not good to breath in the smoke." His mother told him when he tried to go into the kitchen to help.
"I can help."
"Listen to mom. You don't want to breath in whatever it is our sister burnt this time." His third eldest brother said from behind him. Having the kitchen filled with noxious smoke was a common occurrence at their home.
They were a minor noble family living in the Capital. Despite having staff to cook and clean his mother believed it was important that all her children, especially her only daughter, knew how to do both.
Sadly, the one who needed to learn how the most was also the worst out of all her children. Minda's sister was the worst of the worst cooks. Amazingly enough she could even burn water.
