Till The Ryu Tree Blossoms

*** (Lie)

Sansuri, Gifting Day

"I DON'T THINK YOU'RE doing it right," Ryu said.

"Relax. I know what I'm doing." Han Ren looped a strand of hair under the ribbon and then back up. "This is mere fluff compared to fisherman knots."

Carefully he gathered hair and ribbon, piling them in delicate motion on Ryu's head. Through the oval table mirror Ryu watched him anxiously. Despite her reluctance, the significance of Gifting Day was important enough that she couldn't help feeling nervous about it.

Gently, Han Ren set the hair in place, pinched the ribbon between fingertips, and pulled tight.

The bun came apart and cascaded down all over Ryu's shoulders.

"Ah. Whoops." He looked sheepish.

Ryu rolled her eyes. "Father!" she called, and even she herself could hear the desperation in her voice.

Han Lei was a tall and broad-shouldered man with black cropped hair. Weeks' old stubble adorned his square jaw, and his hands were big and strong. His eyes were calm and Ryu had never seen him turned angry. He carried a quiet steadiness to him that reflected in the patient way he went about his work.

Without saying a word, he undid the tangled ribbon from her hair and began plaiting the ends. The room fell silent. Somewhere outside, Ryu could hear goatskin drums thudding out faint melodies, and closer still, the sound of Han Ren whistling in the garden. A sparrow chirped twice on the windowsill, pecked its wings and flew away.

Her father's fingers stroked out a soothing rhythm on her scalp, and suddenly Ryu was reminded of her childhood. When a storm came and she couldn't sleep, that was what her father would do, stroke her hair and sing. Han Lei's voice was nothing remarkable, but it was deep and comforting and most importantly, overruled the sound of thunder in little Ryu's ears.

Now she watched her father in the mirror, and it struck her how much he'd grown old. There was more gray in his beard, and even more of it in his hair, and his palms were calloused. Han Lei's eyes met Ryu's in the mirror, and he smiled a little, looking away.

"Take care of yourself in the palace." His voice was uneven, as if he had just gone out of bed. "Eat well; they have good food over there, so don't skimp on your meals. But also remember the rules and manners you've been taught, to never take what isn't yours, to give freely what you can share, and remember, that you're - "

" - weighed in the price of your worth, so don't settle for less," Ryu finished. "I remember, father."

The plait wounded round and round Ryu's head, and Han Lei pinned it in place with a single golden pin. Dainty with dangling red beads, it was one of the rare items left from his deceased wife.

Resting his hand on his daughter's shoulders, Han Lei watched her through the mirror. The busy life of a lumberjack had taken its toll; he had not noticed that the young girl he once sang to had now matured into a beautiful independent woman. Ryu had inherited her mother's oval face and slim nose, but her eyes were strong like her father's, and her grip firm.

And then there was her hair. No matter what people might whisper, Han Lei liked his daughter's hair long and loose, dancing without a care in the world. That was how it should be. That was how Ryu should be.

Han Ren's whistling changed to a quick bop and Han Lei smiled. "Well your brother sounds very happy."

"Of course. With me gifted, he won't have to worry about having to enter the court anymore." Ryu looked up at her father and smiled. "He really was very worried when he turned 21, you know. He thought you would force him."

"The law says the Gifting must be done with full willingness."

"But the law also says that every family must gift." A thought entered Ryu's head. "Papa, what would you have done if none of us had been willing to be gifted?"

Han Lei shrugged. "Nothing."

"But when Han Ren turned 25? That's the maximum age of indecision. Within its generation, a family must gift at least one child. The decision on which child to be gifted may be put off until the maximum age of indecision, which is when the first-born child of the family turns 25. Once the first-born child of the family turns 25, the family must gift a child within that year itself. Any child above the age of 20 is eligible for Gifting. A family may also gift more than one child. Failure to comply will result in punishment."

Han Lei chuckled. "You actually memorized the entire law. I'm impressed."

"It's our biggest annual event, Father. I can't not remember it." Ryu turned in her chair. "Papa . . . what if Han Ren had turned 25, and he decided he didn't want to be gifted, which means I would have to be. But then I also refused. And the royal magistrates came after us. Then what would you have done, Papa?"

"Ah, then I would speak with them to see sense, and if that fails, why, I'd just return to my trusty lumberjack axe. It can do more than chop wood, you know," Han Lei teased, but there was an undercurrent to his words that told Ryu he was not fully joking.

His voice turned soft. "You can still not go, you know."

Ryu's heart squeezed. Outwardly, she made her lips curve and her eyes light up. "If I don't go now, I'll have to go when Han Ren turns 25 anyway. Which is only next year. Han Ren doesn't want to be gifted, so I have to be. Besides, I want to. "

Lie.

"But I never knew you wanted to be a court lady," her father said sadly, and she felt his hands on her shoulders tightened.

Ryu placed a her hand over her father's and felt their fingers intertwine. A strong, familial bond.

Neither did I, Papa, neither did I.

☯

The cobblestone streets to the palace were thronged with people. An annual event, the Gifting was one of Sansuri's most honored traditions. As a token of gratitude to the King, each family must have at least one child gifted to the court. The child would then serve the monarchy for the rest of his or her life; be it as a common soldier in the army, or even as a high-ranking official in the inner court. It was a way for the common man to ascend in terms of status, and also prevented certain families from becoming too overpowered in court. It also guaranteed complete loyalty from the people; you were less likely to rebel against an institution who had your child within its grip. Great shame was cast upon the family if its child was rejected by the Gifting.

Ryu walked down the streets, hands tucked underneath the hem of her outer garment. Half a step behind her Han Ren carried a large parasol, keeping both her and himself in shade. She kept her eyes lowered and watched as shoes parted along the path to give way. A child who had chosen to be gifted was seen as a person who had done the right thing, much like a man who had chosen to join the army, and was to be respected.

Despite the relief from the sun, Ryu could still feel sweat trickling in beads down her neck and into her back. She fancied she could feel the dress suffocating her, and why in Baro's name were there so many layers to this piece of formal wear - first the petticoat, a loose garment of cotton hanging from the waist; then the overskirt, pale pink and tied firmly around the chest, extending all the way down to her sheepskin shoes; followed by her blouse, which stopped short just above her navel. The blouse had long flared sleeves and a high collar, which chafed. She thanked her lucky stars that her father had been a simple man, sticking only one pin into her hair, otherwise the whole bun would have tipped forward when she bowed, like a rock on the opposite side of an empty scale.

They turned a corner and suddenly found themselves at the back of a line. Fifteen feet away stood the qidan, and outside were government officials conducting the registration, taking down names.

Han Ren stepped forward until he was directly beside her. "You're not telling me and Papa everything, are you?"

Ryu opened her mouth, paused, then closed it. With one hand behind his back, staring off into the distance, her brother cut an aloof figure. Han Ren had inherited their mother's restless soul, a woman that Ryu knew little about and could hardly remember. He could never stay in place for too long, and since he dropped out of school eleven years ago he had changed at least thirty jobs. The village knew him as the handyman; his experience in such a wide range of occupations meant he could be called upon to solve almost anything.

Han Ren's hand came up and rubbed his nose. While his palm covered his mouth he asked, "Is it something to do with your hunting?"

Ryu's eyes opened, wide. "How did you - "

Han Ren glanced sideways at her and snorted. "I went looking for you, one weekend. Imagine my surprise when the House of Ladies told me that not only were you not there, they had no record of you ever coming to their classes at all. So I followed you when you left the house the next time, and saw you entering the woods. I always did thought your 'embroidery bag' was a bit too much on the large side."

Ryu's cheeks reddened. "I'm sorry."

Han Ren shrugged. "You must have your reasons."

Somewhere in the back of her mind the magistrate's voice returned, unbidden. You may lie to yourself, Lady Ryu, but not to me. You hunt because you like it.

Her brother was speaking again. "I'm not mad. Only I'd wish you'd told me."

"I was afraid you might disapprove."

"Would you have listened?" Han Ren asked, his tone knowing.

The girl in front moved and Ryu took two steps forward. Han Ren followed suit, looking in front, but his gaze lied further and higher than the steeple of the hall, and he said,

"The world beyond calls me. If not for you and Papa, I would have boarded a ship and left these shores a long time ago. Being tied to an immovable structure on land, like the court, was never the future I saw myself in. And though I know you have never asked for more, there is always a little bit of Mama inside of us, and Mama was a traveler. Adventurer."

Han Ren looked to his sister. "So why have you decided to settle, Ryu?"

Ryu's fingers knotted and unknotted out of sight. "It was either you, or I. And I knew you didn't want to be gifted."

"And so you decided to do the noble thing? That is not your style."

"I am doing you a favor. The law says - "

"The law is not everything." There was a sharpness now, in Han Ren's voice. "We could run away. We could escape. We could leave Sansuri, and find a kingdom that has no need of a Gifting."

Ryu's eyes darted around the surrounding crowd, anxious. "Be careful what you say, brother. That is blasphemy."

"You broke the law by hunting. So why is it that when it comes to this you are shy to make a stand? Papa never forced us. He gave us the freedom to make our choices. He would protect us if we both didn't want to be gifted."

"Papa is old." Ryu's voice raised, and she struggled to keep it down. "Papa is tired. We must protect ourselves now. We must protect each other."

Ryu gestured around the hall, at all the families, and the children waiting to be gifted. "Look. They are happy to be here. They are willing to be chosen. The Gifting gives our family honor, status! If I am chosen, our taxes are reduced by half, and I receive a salary higher than what you and Papa both have. Is this not blessing? Is this not something to be a cause of joy? Why are you so against this?"

The grip on the parasol tightened until the white of Han Ren's knuckles could be seen. He opened his mouth to speak, but then girl in front moved away and it was Ryu's turn. She stepped up to the table while Han Ren stayed behind, and gave her name. While the officer dipped his brush in black ink and began writing on the parchment, Ryu looked up at the open doors of the community hall.

Standing beside it, in the same red and black robes she had first seen him in, was the Royal Magistrate. Ryu's heart skipped a beat.

He watched her, smug satisfaction crossing his face. Tipping his hat, he walked inside the qidan.

The officer stamped the parchment, handed it to her, and gave her clearance to go. Taking a deep breath, Ryu began walking up the steps.

"Ryu!" her brother called.

Ryu turned.

Underneath the parasol, his eyes swirled with unfathomable emotions. But Ryu saw the way he chewed at his lip, and she knew it was a habit he did whenever he was worried.

"Never let them see the red," he said, and then he was swallowed up by the crowd.