After that drowning incident, Phuc lied unconciously in bed for three days straight. The healer gave him a thorough examination and shook his head in defeat. The Ly women then broke out in tears as the whole house was slowly drowned in waves of sorrowful sounds, be it histeric crying, silent weeps, or heart-wrenching wails. Rumor had it the terrifying sounds had wounded the ears of the death gods, so bad that they had been reluctant to come anywhere near Phuc. Therefore Phuc's life had been balanced like a scale in between two worlds; not dead, but not really alive either.
On the fourth night, the scale tipped. The heir of Ly clan was finally awake.
One must truly acknowledge the kind of magical power the Ly women possessed. Why, they even bested the gods of death!
Phuc's bedchamber was instantly filled with sounds and activities the moment he rised from the dead. However the only thing that fell through the young man's ears at that moment was, surprisingly, a humming voice. From a woman no less.
Phuc blinked and darted his eyes around the chamber. Familiar faces started to emerge; Hong, Lan, Mai, Cuc, Xoan, Hue, Nu, Sen... Well, his whole flower vase was all here, with tremble lips and swollen eyes, beautiful in all shapes and sizes.
Then who the hell was humming?
Shaking his head, he lowered his gaze to the floor, and the vague humming stopped.
Voices started flooding through his ears like tirades. No, noises were more like it.
"Oh thank Heaven you are awake, husband! You had us all worried to death there...!"
It's so fortunate he didn't pass. Where on earth could I find such beauty as a husband...?
"For a second I thought you could have had left us all, oh dear husband..."
He seemed odd... oh dear lord has he lost his mind?
"Had you passed away, I would have bitten my tongue to join you on the other side..."
Speaking of tongues, it's been quite a while we had... Well, may be tonight...
"Silence!" Phuc let out a sudden shout, lifting his eyes to scan through the pretty faces filled with longing and tenderness.
What's with the sudden temper? Mighty Heaven, he didn't really lose his mind, did he?
What kind of expression is that? Is he thirsty? Hungry?
Well, looks like tonight would be a bit too soon...
Phuc tried to clear his ears by poking little fingers at them. When that didn't work, he virogously shook his head instead. But all effort to regain his sanity had somehow failed. He still heard them.
Not them. But them them.
He took a look at the speechless women staring at him once again, and it suddenly dawned on him.
Lord, he could hear their thoughts.
He is truly the son of Heaven then. A brush with death had magically given him the gift of looking into people's mind...!
By then the wives could only stared at their beloved husband, who had started laughing like a loon. One thought he had gone mad, the other was sure this was the kind of unholy ailment that befell upon those who came back from death.
Phuc heard it all. Oh how he loved it! The more he listened, the more he was thrilled with the discovery. He slapped his thigh soundly and laughed so hard that tears came out. Now that he could hear thoughts, he was likely the most gifted man in all lands, possibly in all Dai Viet, was he not? For he couldn't be that far from becoming a deity, for sure!
Amidst the young man's newfound pride and joy, he found himself vastly displeased by the sudden appearance of one in particular; his first wife. She pushed her way through the group and met him with wide dove eyes. There were traces of tears on her cheeks and sorrowful expression on her face, but the emotion somehow didn't quite reach the eyes. The woman took one quick look at him and turned her back, she then dropped her knees on the floor and made the most graceful bow to the sky.
"Heaven bless the Ly! Heaven bless indeed! My husband has woken and all is well! Oh mighty Gods, You must have heard all my prayers... I thank You for that and shall abide by my vow to give up ten years of my life for my husband's recovery. Indeed I shall!"
I shall not!
Phuc didn't have a chance to react before the midtresses started dropping their knees as well. One refreshed the memory of her devoted self kneeling and bowing all the way to the temple asking Buddha to save her dear husband, another cut in with story of her letting thousands of birds go free in exchange for Phuc's life. As the stories went on they became more and more ludicrous, up to the point where the tellers have all become saints and gods in ancient myth.
Of course they could not all take credit for one man's life now, could they?
Lan, the fifth wife, brushed out her tears and started to rile the one beside her. "You're such a shameful liar! You have been playing dead in your chamber for the past three days, except for those natural midnight calls I haven't seen you anywhere near the main gate, let alone kneeling and bowing your way to the temple!"
Serve you right the cunning little vixen! You must have heard the brocades of La just came in this morning and planned to seize the good ones. Gaining favor with our husband by claiming credits, you think no one would be ableb to figure out your little game? Well, I do.
Lan's opponent was not one without edges, she too brushed off her tears, straightened her back and spoke out in spiteful mockery.
"Oh, couldn't I be doing it while you are out freeing birds then, sister? If there were really any birds to speak of... You're sure you were not conveniently making it up just to gain favor with our husband?"
What's gotten into this bitch now? Why is she going at me like a crazy hound? We already made a deal to share the damn brocades, didn't we? You despicable woman wanted to go back on your words? Well then, bring it on!
"Amitabha," lady Nu, relied on her Buddhist background, intervened with a calm voice as usual. "My dear sisters, please stop this foolish quarrel. Being able to meet each other is fate, to live under the same roof we must have passed through countless encounters in our previous lives. Therefore please do not disgrace each others for petty gains. Rituals or not, it's not important as long as one maintains a devoted heart. That way through only peaceful chanting one could still reach out to Buddha and ask him to bring back one husband's life."
She then tightened her grip on the prayer beads and retreated to the back, mouth murmuring verses of incantation.
Foolish women who don't know any better. Think he would love you more with petty fights and silly contests of words? Nay, he would not. He prefers a calm and gentle soul, one who would not be inclined to give way to temper, one whose action speaks louder than words. One like me.
"Sister Nu was right! Lan and Sen, you two should call and end to your petty fight here and then. I mean, what's the point? We all love husband and wish him well, do we not? Even me, despite having a big appetite, still managed to go on a sacred fast for the sake of our beloved husband..."
You fools don't realize how despicably obvious you are at hoarding merit? One needs to be subtle about it, like me.
"Oh how your great courage humbled me, sisters...! If it weren't for this weak body of mine, I would have gone to the temple with sister Sen, or released the birds with sister Lan. Instead, I could only offer all my gold to the river god in hope he would eventually release husband's soul..."
Think I would lose out to you old hags? Think again.
Overwhelmed by chains of voices and thoughts all coming his way, it took Phuc quite a while to clear out the confusion and arrange his inner thoughts. When it was all done, the young man lifted his head, only to be faced with a battlefield. If the women were warriors and words were their swords, they were skewing each other with the kind of fervor that could shake even the most mighty army. Phuc started getting a little annoyed by all the commotions. It wasn't like he was unaware of the wive's petty jealousy and ungodly intentions towards each other, what with them being women and all. He couldn't very well fault them for being human now, could he? Especially when all that jealousy and bad intentions traced back to him. Their love for him was the cause of all disputes.
However, being aware was one thing, having to listen to them was another matter altogether.
He was going to throw them out when a sound broke out in his head.
The sound of a woman laughing. Hard.
Phuc scanned the faces again and found no one doing the deed. He then concluded it must be someone's inner thought. Someone was laughing, most likely at him!
Eyes narrowed, Phuc continued to strain his ears listening to the vague sound. He wanted to know who the blasted chit that dared to find this situation amusing. Laughing at the master of the house indeed! Such insolence will not be tolerated!
Go on, ladies, go and tear each other's eyes out. At least make that filthy husband of yours so mad that his heart gives out. I shall forever be in your debt then. Marching on knees to temple, releasing thousands of birds, fasting and praying to Buddha... I shall do them all on your behalves!
Well, Phuc's heart almost gave out right there and then.
Damn! Of all the landed gentry around here, he was the most generous and most charming. Women swooned at his glance and flowers blushed under his touch. How could it be possible that a woman of his household was wishing him death?
"Such insolence!" he slammed his fist on the bed and bellowed.
The little battle immediatly ceased. All eyes were falling back on him, suddenly filled with innocence and indignance.
"You can all leave the chamber now," he ordered, eyes focusing on all changes around.
And as he expected, that voice once again surfaced.
That's it? The play ends here then? Isn't this a little too soon? Well I suppose it's all for the best. I can't very well have all your faces ruined with scratches and bruises now can I? What if you all decide to hide in your rooms, wouldn't your dear husband have to seek pleasure in my bed as a last resort then?
Hell no, I shall not have it! So disgusting!
As soon as the meaning behind those words hit home, Phuc started forming a vague figure in his head. Who was it? Who was it that he sought to vent out his lust as last resort? The kitchen servant girl? The deceased butler's widow?
When his eyes finally settled on a familiar round face with dovey eyes and willow brows, the vague figure finally took on its shape.
It was her.
The most eager in the quest for his love and affection; the least successful of them all, too.
Lady Hanh, first wife to the heir of Ly.
The loathed one.