"We demand to see the evil witch! That girl is a curse to this village!"
"Yes! We can't let her stay!"
"The girl is a curse! We must get rid of her!"
More loud, wild, angry cry charged at the girl, rippled from outside of the house. But she shut their shouts out of her mind. She rose from her seat, her hand aimlessly fumbling for the old woman. Seeing the girl, the old woman reached over, wrapping her arms around the delicate thin body.
"Mother Zhou, what's happening?" The girl asked, a mixture of emotions were playing across her face: confusion, worry, and dread.
"The villagers, they've come to get you," she gasped amid the crowd's murmurs. Her emotion turned to horror. "It seems that they still blame you for the drought that came upon your arrival here."
In seconds, everyone was on their feet, screaming for the girl's blood. A wave of collective rage and hatred exploded into a deafening roar. As if I could feel the girl's fear, every angry shout, every enraged scream ballooned up an ominous feeling in my stomach. Then it rose to my throat, threatening to choke me inside out.
"Aunt Zhou," ventured one of the men as he stepped forward. "You're one of our respected elders here, but if you keep it like this, we have no choice but to let you go the hard way."
"Out! Out of this instance!" The old woman yelled, her hands wrapped the girl even tighter. "This is an auspicious day. No blood shall be shed on this day, it's a bad omen."
One of the big guys snorted, his hand was on the hilt of his spade fork. "Auspicious? I see that she is the real bad omen for the village! If she wed here, this whole village will be dead by her hands."
"Nonsense!" The old woman retorted. "A drought is a nature call, it has nothing to do with the girl."
"Then how do you explain her eyes? See her sickly body? Who knows if she carries an infectious disease ready to curse us all. She is the embodiment of bad omen itself!"
"You—"
"I'll go with you all."
It was the girl that stopped the old woman. Her sole voice alone silenced the shouting curses at her. She straightened her body, forcing herself to stand tall at the raging hate directed at her. She couldn't see any of their rage burning through their gaze. But she understood their reaction. Practically, she was raised that way—despisal, worthless, and full of hatred—before she was cast away to the streets, left alone to die. If she didn't meet Jie Moshu that, she would have probably starved to death.
"Mother Zhou," the girl said in a composed manner, grabbing her hands. "You've allowed me to call you mother, then how can a daughter let her mother suffer for the daughter's fault? Let me go."
"No, you can't." The old woman cried. "You and Mr. Jie, I can't let them take your life."
"Tell Mr. Jie," she drew in a breath. "Tell him that in this life, I'm blessed enough to meet him. I know his heart has someone else, but that woman isn't me."
Her words led to a phantom of emotion stabbing me inside my chest again and again until I gritted my teeth and my nails dug deep into my palms.
'No! You're wrong. He loves you!' I heard myself screaming. 'You can't sacrifice yourself. You have to wait for Jie Moshu. You have to wait for him. He'll be here in a minute.'
Tears of frustration welled in my eyes. Realizing that I was only an invisible shadow in this world, I began to bite my lip.
"So, the witch has surrendered! Take her!" The big guy commanded. Some well-built men took away the girl from the old woman's grasp.
Somehow the old woman was so stubborn. She used all her strength to keep the girl by her side. "No, I won't let you all take her away!"
"Aunt Zhou looks like you don't want a toast, but you want a forfeit drink!" With that said, one of the big men shoved her away, knocked her back until she fell on her knees.
"What have you done?" the girl demanded indignantly. "I've agreed to come with you. What did you do to Mother Zhou?"
One moment, the big guy was staring at the girl in disgust. The next, he had slapped the girl's face as hard as he could. The crack of blow echoed through the whole room. I clamped my mouth, anger made my cheeks burn. Realizing I couldn't do anything other than watching this whole incident happening.
"Evil witch," the guy snarled. "Don't you dare strike a relationship with any of the villagers here! You bad omen! Take her away to the village priestess!"
The girl looked up, though she couldn't see her grey eyes were bright with fury. Another man had punched her in the stomach. She bit down her lip hard. The men moved to her side and dragged her away from the house.
I could have guessed the rest that would happen to the girl. Be it being burned alive at stake, beheaded in public, or plunging a dagger to her chest—all would lead to her execution. Awful. Ugly.
Gradually the images shifted and I found myself at an altar. To my horror, the girl was flanked to the altar by ropes. I froze, wondering what happened before me was merely my imagination—but it wasn't. More sharp screams from the crowd, along with a couple of harsh crack-crack-cracks of whips. But what concerned me was the girl.
Her whole body was probably full of bruises from flogging, tied in the middle of this madness. Bloodstains must have been hidden well behind her red wedding garments. Her porcelain face grazed with cuts, little drops of blood showed no mercy from those villagers. Those whiplashes almost flogged her to death, and she just yielding to the torture without revolting.
Why had she done so wrong? Why were these people treating her that way? Where was Jie Moshu? At that moment, I could feel myself thinking like what the girl was thinking. Oh, how I hoped I could help her. But my hope was as useless as my tears flowing down my cheeks. So, I stood there in the shadows of my memory, staring at the horrible scenery. My heart was quivering with chills and sadness.
The murmuring crowd suddenly went quiet as a woman in flowing black robes walked her way up to the wood steps. The two villager men who had whiplash on their hands stopped and now stood back as far as the limited space would allow.
That woman stood before the altar, her face was well-hidden in the shadows of the hooded cloak as she surveyed the girl carefully. She raised her hand, signaled one of the villager's men. They drew a wicked-looking dagger and rushed at her in unison. I knew right away that she was the priestess those villagers mentioned before.
The priestess positioned herself, took one wooden step higher so she was better seen by the masses below.
She raised the dagger to the sky, her voice was loud and clear, "The appearance of this young woman has brought misfortunes to our village. Her existence is god's wrath. Drought befalls on this land is the proof. As the messenger of gods, I have received the calling to appease them to let rainfall to our lands again. It is by her death!"
A harsh series of "Kill her! Kill her! Kill her!" erupted at the end of the priestess's speech. The crowd screamed in unison, demanding the girl's death. Her eyes darted from the priestess to the crowd, concluding that it was maybe she was better off dead.
I could hear her inner voice and shook my head. 'No, you're not a bad omen. These people are!'
It took a few minutes for the crowd to finally calm down as the priestess circled the altar, starting to pray to the gods in a voice that carried those below. When the priestess finally finished, she gripped the dagger in both hands. Raising it high over her head to bring it down through the girl's heart. In a moment, the priestess hesitated and the crowd drew in a breath.
Then a fire was shot right at the priestess's hand. Flames sparked to life, hissing and crackling with evil intent. I could see the glow of the flames almost eat up the priestess alive, torturing her. She groaned and slumped back down the floor.
"Help the priestess!"
"Bring in the water!"
"Protect the priestess!"
In the midst of chaos, the crowd erupted in fury. The two villager men drew out their wicked-looking blades and swiveled their heads around. But the offender was nowhere to be found. Soon the yells and grunts were drowned by screeching.
A big bird of the size of an elephant swooped into the view. Its wings outstretched, a mix of red and orange feathers, nearly kissed the ground as it flew. Those wings ignited with blazing ethereal flames, penetrating those who saw it to their very soul. Every part of its feathers swirling in a fiery haze of magic. Eyes gleaming with murderous intention slowly turning to crimson-red, deadlier than blood. Another chorus of deafening screech adding its cry to the wind.
Shocked gasps rippled through the area, and everyone was pointing at the bird. After a few seconds, the surprised stares followed with astonished screams.
"A phoenix! It's a phoenix!"
"A holy being finally appeared in our village!"
"The gods have heard our prayers! The phoenix is here to save us!"
"No!" thundered the priestess when she finally stood on her feet. The skin on her hand had extremely reddened almost to the point of crippling. "It's a demon bird! That is no phoenix!"
The girl jerked her head up. Her gaze was already weak and tired from the flogging and the scorching sun. She and the big bird shared a momentary glance. The bird screeched, and a sad smile crept on her pale soft lips as if her senses told her the bird was who she had been waiting for.
Now that I noticed it, I was starting to churn with realization. I let out a relieved breath. As much as I hoped, it was just like what the priestess said. It wasn't a phoenix, but not a demon bird the priestess had accused him to be.
No. It wasn't an ordinary bird at all—it was Jie Moshu.