The deity of fate, the goddess who was tasked to weave destinies for the myriad of mortal worlds the heaven was in charge of, finally had to undergo her own tribulation.
She had a new deputy, hence she could go and play - I mean, undergo her tribula...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A young maiden was embroidering by a latticed window in silence, languidly gazing at the bustling roads and vendors outside. The bench seat she was sitting on was more similar to a daybed, made from dried young bamboo straws. The intricate workmanship could not hide the quality and undoubtedly lavish price of a simple piece of furniture. On the bench seat were a few rolls of different colored threads, some of the more vibrant ones seemed to glisten when sunlight poured over them.
Although her eyes were not affixed on the embroidery frame she was holding, her nimble fingers did not stop for one moment, threading the needle through a piece of fine silk red fabric. The picture on the fabric had formed beautifully from her effort: a pair of mandarin ducks, the choice of thread colors had brought a dimensional effect on the embroidery, as if the pair of ducks would take flight from the scarlet sea they were swimming on.
The myriad of voices from outside darted through the small slits of the windows where the joints were. The noise and sounds were so soft that she could not make out what were being said. Yet perhaps, she was just satisfied from imagining what was happening outside from her safe yet solitary spot. After all, the animated faces of the people were quite distinct and pleasant to look at.
The maiden's dark eyes were calm and unperturbed, but as she caught sight of something outside the window, she swayed a tiny bit. Her little movement brought the needle to swerve off course and prick her finger.
A tiny red dot that formed on her skin soon bloomed into a scarlet dome, and the droplet finally fell onto the red fabric.
The girl's delicate brows were slightly wrinkled, clearly a sign of her dismay at her own carelessness, mixed with the stinging pain on her skin. She already forgot about what she saw that had broken her concentration. Yet, she did not bother to mend to her tiny wound, merely looking at the spot on the fabric her blood had trickled to.
After a long while, she let out a slow drawn breath and wrapped her wounded finger with a piece of cut fabric lying on her side. The red color of the spare fabric was the same as the embroidery piece she was working on.
The red fabric was once a pair of handkerchiefs that she had to embroider for her wedding day. She had already finished the first piece, a handkerchief that she would need to use for at least the first year after her marriage, to symbolize happiness as a couple. The one that she had just stained was meant to be given to her soon-to-be husband.
Because she was the bride, her handkerchief had a pattern of two pale salmon-colored lotus flowers in full bloom. Not only were flower patterns appropriate for a young maiden like herself, the lotus flower signified a wish that the pair of husband and wife would be joined together in harmony(1).
The pattern chosen for her future husband was more straightforward: a pair of mandarin ducks. The famous birds that were well known to be faithful to their mate for a lifetime, living together in perfect harmony... . She had inadvertently smeared her own blood onto this piece of fabric that contained the wish of a hopeful maiden and her maternal family for a lasting and happy relationship.
