Half My Life Was the Price of His Love

The year we got engaged, Horace Gilbert fell gravely ill.

The fortune-teller said his nature was missing wood.

For a life of peace and good fortune, he had to claim the peach tree in the courtyard as his guardian godmother.

Only when the peach tree bloomed could he marry and build a home.

So, year after year, I burned incense and bathed clean, loosened the soil around the peach tree and fed it.

Hoping only that once it flowered, I could marry Horace Gilbert.

But I waited from twenty to sixteen, and the peach tree never bloomed.

What I saw instead was him scattering quicklime under the tree with his friends.

One friend asked, puzzled.

"Horace, if you don't like Melinda Dotson, just break it off. Why pick a fight with a tree every single year?"

Horace frowned and answered, irritated.

"If the fortune-teller hadn't said our birth charts matched, why would I ever marry some country bumpkin."

"There's no getting out of this marriage now."

"Still, Melinda is devoted to me, heart and soul."

"Let me have my fun a few more years, then I'll give her a title."

I looked at the yellowed, withered branches and lowered my head with a bitter smile.

There was no more waiting. My mother was dying.

Her last wish was to see me settled with a family of my own.

If this tree's blossoms would never open for me—

then I had no choice but to marry someone else.

……

When my father heard I wanted to break the engagement, he was silent for a long while.

"Daughter, it's not that I want to stop you."

"You and Horace Gilbert made a life-and-death pact."

"Breaking it now, out of nowhere, I'm afraid the mountain spirit will punish you."

Back when Horace was dying of his illness, I had stood before the peach tree and sealed a life-and-death blood pact with him to give him more time—

"In life and death we do not part, in fortune and misfortune we are bound. Whoever betrays this will be struck down by heaven."

Mountain folk fear the gods and spirits above all.

My father was still wavering.

When a familiar figure suddenly cut into my view.

"Horace, sweetie, you promised you'd come to my party. Why are you standing here staring at this dead tree?"

"You're not still thinking about Melinda, are you?"

Horace froze for a moment, then quickly came back to himself.

He kissed Lillian Summers on the cheek, doting, and laughed.

"Silly girl, what are you talking about."

"How could that country bumpkin Melinda ever compare to you."

"It's just that today is her birthday. I was worried about how to smooth things over with her."

Lillian leaned in closer, pressing half her body against him.

"But I went to all this trouble to prepare a surprise for you today."

"Here's an idea. Tell her you found another folk remedy that'll help the peach tree bloom."

"As long as it has anything to do with this dead tree, Melinda will believe every word of it."

The friend beside them burst out laughing.

"Horace, you two really have a talent for pulling people's strings."

"Remember that time you faked being sick and said you needed... wild lotus root from the dead of winter for your medicine."

"That idiot Melinda actually went looking for it. They say when she fell through the ice, she still had half a lotus root in her hand."

"And last month, you said music would help it flower, and she really did come out every night to sing to the peach tree."

"I've seen fools before, but a fool like this is a first for me!"

The more they talked, the more they egged each other on.

And without warning, a text came through on my phone.

"Melinda, I heard there's a spring up on South Ridge that can make the peach tree bloom faster. I'm going to look for it."

"I can't be with you on your birthday tonight, but once I find that mountain spring, I can marry you home that much sooner."

The old me would have been moved beyond words at the sight of those messages.

I'd have run off to South Ridge like a fool, chasing after that so-called mountain spring.

But now I stood where I was, and for a long time I said nothing.