《Two sisters and the red cotton tree》


 Prologue

    It came. It was not the earthquake. It was the earth that split. The island will split into nemeses when two cursed souls find themselves back at the red cotton tree, said the old hag one day before her head rolled on the ground and the blood from her neck dyed the voiceless river red.


    Tr?n Di?u Van was carrying the basket of ripe plums to the mansion of Lord Pham that was located in the far east when she felt the ground pull her toward it. She stiffened her legs to maintain balance just to slip herself over and roll nonstop until her back hit the stone. The soft-yet-hard plums inside the basket she was wearing prevented any bone breakage. She would stay unharmed if she just sat here and let the pulling force do its job, but Ho¨¤ng Di?m Th?y was still near the graveyard, which was constructed on the far west of the island!


    Ho¨¤ng Di?m Th?y had never visited her mother¡¯s grave before, because it did not exist. Just three days ago, Di?u Van learned how to carve the tombstone, and they built a small grave for her. Her body had long turned to dust, but her name was there, with her daughter praying. As Di?m Th?y touched the clumsy cursives on the stone, the wind dragged her to the right. It took her three rolls to realize it was not the wind, but the ground itself was moving. She needed to run to the left right now. Di?u Van was waiting for her!


    The island of D?t L?c had always been content with the wind blowing. The harder the wind blew, the farther the ship went. Today, there was no wind. Nothing moved except the ground and the residents trying to run to the other side. Families hugged one another tight. Lord Pham commanded servants to stiffen his mansion, but he did not know that the red cotton tree had been split, and there would be no glue to fix the island again.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Tr?n Di?u Van was still making her way out of the forest. She was running, but most of the time she was rolling. The small rocks scratched her skin. She felt the wild grass¡¯ thorns piercing through her eardrum. Blood burned her eyes and fingers. She was still conscious, and she could still make her way to her younger sister. Ho¨¤ng Di?m Th?y clung onto the grave to steady herself. The immense force of the ground propelled sand debris into the sky, obscuring her vision. She could not see. Despite her inability to breathe, she continued to walk and crawl. Slowly and slowly, she would reach the tree in the middle of the island. She would see her sister.


    Tr?n Di?u Van could feel a thousand footsteps and hauntingly chaotic noises behind her. They were just like her. Their loved ones were on the other side. Ho¨¤ng Di?m Th?y never knew how she could make her way to the tree. Her body lay flat on the ground. Leaves and wasted metal drew blood on every part of her skin. She looked up. Di?u Van. They reached their hands to each other, as well as many people around them. Di?u Van leaned further; if Di?m Th?y could grab her hard enough, they would not be separated.


    Then, thunder.


    The sharks must have a wonderful feast of human arms.


    Screams tore the sky. They lost one of their arms, and some people lost both. A woman screamed in despair and grabbed her lover into the sea in that very moment. The thunder shattered the island completely, creating an invisible wall between them. Di?u Van woke up in the pool of her blood. She had lost her left arm. Th?y must have lost the right one. Van shrieked; Th?y wept next to the two halves of the red cotton tree. The sisters, who had different last names, different parents, and different bloodlines, found themselves permanently separated.

 Chapter 1: A tale never loses the telling

    ¡°Read for me,¡± Ph?m Mai Linh raised her little voice, looking at me with typical Ph?m family¡¯s eyes, which were too big for her faces.


    I sighed. I regretted putting the book down too soon. It was too heavy to be lifted by one arm, without support from other servants. I never expected the little girl would wake up at midnight and immediately demanded stories. I sat back on her bed, rubbing her chubby cheek.


    ¡°What do you want to hear?¡± I asked gently.


    ¡°Anything, about the tree.¡± Her eyes blinked with excitement.


    I could not help but laugh a little bit. Children are children whose curiosity outweighs their memories. I had told her repeatedly the written version of that cursed red cotton tree.


    ¡°Once upon a time, a long time ago, there was a young woman who died young. Because she resented heaven and earth for why she had to leave when she was young, her soul took shelter under the huge red cotton tree in the village communal house. Then one day, a merchant with a soaring soul saw the apparition of a stunningly beautiful girl. He kept coming closer and immersing himself in it. The red cotton tree suddenly proliferated, overwhelming the entire village communal house. The villagers kept hearing the plaintive cries every night, making their hearts restless, crops lost, and the masses miserable until a Taoist monk stopped. He swung his sword to cut off the tree, throwing away his cloak, and disappeared. Days after days, years after years, the red cotton tree suddenly grew again. People were afraid and tried to cut it down, but the tree trunk seemed to have magic. But then, they realized that the tree no longer caused disaster. Those two lost souls have probably already found their places in the afterlife."


    Before I finished telling, I had already heard the even sounds of Mai Linh¡¯s breathing. She had fallen asleep, but I continued the story anyway. The old hag had always been like that. When Di?m Th?y had fallen asleep, and I was extremely sleepy, she would continue her tales regardless of the audience. The only difference was that her tales were much more varied, as she was illiterate and just repeated the stories other hags had told her.


    ¡°I have heard that the young woman was General Nguy?n Ki?n Ho¨¤ng¡¯s concubine. When she died, he never came to visit, never made a proper funeral. She resented him so much that she would rather stay a ghost forever than find herself in a different life,¡± she said.


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    ¡°The merchant. I have heard that maybe the young woman was the merchant¡¯s first wife. He had forgotten her after falling into the sea. He married the one who rescued him, and his first wife hung herself on the tree. The merchant became one with his wife after regaining his memories,¡± she told another version of that tale.


    I chose to believe the latter version because I was General Nguy?n Ki?n Ho¨¤ng¡¯s daughter. My real name was Nguy?n Di?u Lan. After my father died in the battle, he had sent me to the Lord Ph?m family with the hope that they could take care of me as their child. It would be an impossible thing to ask if my family had not looked after Lord Ph?m¡¯s first son for 2 years before I was born. I was asked to change my name on the first day I arrived at D?t L?c Island. Tr?n was my great grandma¡¯s surname. Van means clouds, which resemble me, floating without end. Di?u was my mother¡¯s name. I never knew her face, but I knew one thing for sure. My father loved her so much that he buried himself in battles, neglecting his own child. I was arranged to stay at the servants¡¯ house two days after I came to the island, which did not surprise me. However, I was startled to see Ph?m Th? An¡ªthe third son of Lord Ph?m¡ªalso stayed here.


    Thinking of him, I suddenly remembered that today I should finish the translation of ¡°Plants and flowers¡± ¨C the scared book of botany on this island, but the language was too ancient, and the cursive was too hard to read, so it needed a translator. I recalled the day I was carried back to the house by my fellow servants. I did not know how I could survive the infectious fever, the extreme blood loss, and the grief of separation from my beloved sister. I could not do heavy tasks since then, but thanks to the generous Third Master, I still could stay here and make money. Ph?m Th? An never missed a chance to exploit his servants¡¯ potential, including my knowledge of our nation¡¯s ancient languge. For the first time, I felt grateful for my father to left me alone all those first years of my life, so I found my comfort in studying language.


    I looked down. My left arm was lost, and Th?y lost her right arm. My heart ached at that thought of her being alone in the graveyard, and no one came to rescue her. I pressed the brush against the paper until the ink gathered at one point and almost destroyed the precious book. Even though I always told myself to be strong, and she was definitely alive. I would find a way to get back to it. Sometimes, I still felt like I couldn''t breathe.


    ¡°Is Mai Linh asleep?¡± Ph?m Th? An asked.


    I looked up and startled. A tall human body appeared before my eyes. The Ph?m family all have the same body shape, and Mai Linh will probably be the same when she grows up.


    "What''s wrong?" He bowed low. His eyes, too big for his face, probed my tear-stained cheeks. His skin was already yellow, combined with the dim candlelight, making him look more ghost than human.


    ¡°Nothing. It¡¯s a little bit difficult but I¡¯ll try.¡± I swallowed all the sobs away. I would make my way to find Di?m Th?y, but in order to do that, I needed to survive first.

 Chapter 2: The stranger whom I was named after

    It had been six months since the split. I still couldn¡¯t believe that now I was living in a luxurious, enormous underground mansion. My right arm had been cured completely in one day without any infection, and I knew that I had borrowed favors. Favors were always limited, and I had used too many favors so far.


    The mute and deaf servant brought clothes to my room and gestured for me to try them all. I had always dreamed of colorful, silky five-panel dresses, and now I could try them all every day. Big Sis had once lent me her dress, elaborated mainly by azure silk and pine needles. I tended to ask for it forever until I heard her talking to the old hag. It was the last gift from her mother, who died just six months after she was born. I sighed. My mother used to wear plenty of fancy gowns almost every morning, but none of them was hers. She swung around, following the rhymes of melody. Her smile attracted butterflies, and her dimples were told to capture every man¡¯s soul. She was the Flower Seller ¨C the most beautiful harlot ever. That was all about her. The money she received was never hers; the houses she was offered were never hers, the praises she heard were never hers. Only me, her daughter, was hers. In the evening, we cuddled each other in our makeshift thatched house, letting the wind shatter our bare skin. Then, at the hottest noon in the summer, she died. She died without any illnesses, injuries, or drugs. Her heart just simply stopped.


    I wandered nonstop till my feet trampled on tiny thorns. I knew I had reached the forest and leaned again against a large oak tree. A girl who appeared to be not much older than me emerged. She wore noble clothes, a four-panel dress, but it had wrinkled up, like she had not changed it for days. She looked at me and offered her hand. I never realized I was shaking until she steadied me to stand up. She blinked and asked something. I did not remember exactly what she said, but I remembered I had burst out crying in her arms and guided her to my makeshift house, where my mother¡¯s lifeless body was still there. Then, she helped me to bury my mother. Since then, I followed her and completed errands for the Ph?m family in exchange for meals and a safe place to sleep. Her name was Tr?n Di?u Van, she told me. I called her Big Sis. I never knew her real name, but I did not push her either. Everyone had their secrets. I also never told her about the favors. Despite all the secrets, we had spent almost ten years together and had been apart for more than six months. I missed her terribly.


    Knock! Knock! Knock!


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    The servant knocked the back of her palm on the table to snap me out of my endless thoughts. I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote. It was embarrassingly painful to write with my left hand.


    "I will be ready with half a stick of incense,¡± I wrote, ¡°you inform Great Master that I will be in the hall soon.¡±


    The servant read carefully, then nodded and left. I suddenly remembered Lord Ph?m''s illiterate servants in the house where Big Sis and I used to live. That man was a psychopath, but he seemed to treat his inferiors quite well. However, the agony was that he seemed to see me not as one of his inferiors but as one of his debtors.


    I put on the new dress and went to the Crystal Hall. The old hag had told the story about the demon of night wanted to keep the stars for himself, so he buried the starry night to his underground castle. According to this story, that demon must be thousands years old, but the man standing before me was just about the age of Big Sis.


    ¡°Great Master,¡± I bowed.


    ¡°Poison.¡± He stretched his arm, and I put the vial of newly concocted poison in his palm. Growing up in the brothel meant having a great knowledge of killing others without leaving traces.


    ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°Tomorrow, come to the Mane and see.¡± Then, he left without any other word.


    I swallowed my sighs. The old hag¡¯s speech rang in my tone.


    ¡°The woman who died young. Found herself in the tree. Even her lover wrote a song. She would never be free.¡±


    I recalled Big Sis¡¯s puppy eyes when she heard about the story. I tried to sleep that night without success. The more I thought about that tale, the more vivid my mother''s face emerged in my mind. She had asked many favors for the one she loved ¨C the one that was not my father, she said surely. She never told me about the bargains, making me think that heaven and earth could fulfill everyone¡¯s wishes regardless of how hard they were. For many years, I asked myself whether the woman in the red cotton tree tale was my mother. For many years, the worries had been drowning me day by day.


    A few days before Big Sis made a tombstone for my mother¡¯s small grave, I dreamt of her. The day she returned to our thatched house without cuddling her daughter. Her eyes were reddened by long hours of crying, I assumed. ¡°He¡¯s a stranger now, he¡¯s a stranger now.¡± She repeatedly said that sentence as a mantra. I knew that man¡¯s name ¡°Ho¨¤ng Di?m Th?,¡± whose name I was name after. My name was Ho¨¤ng Di?m Th?y, my mother¡¯s surname was Ma, and my father¡¯s one was definitely not Ho¨¤ng.


    I asked for a favor right after that dream, that the Great Master saved me in the day the earth split. In exchange, I needed to concoct poison and watched him killing people with my works. I hoped Big Sis would find me, but for the most part, I didn¡¯t. One of us must be survived.

 Chapter 3: A hundred storm trees leaves

    Ph?m Th? An took my translated script and turned away to read. While he was well aware of the importance of each section, he might not have anticipated my ability to discern even the slightest sound of paper slipping. The servant house was at the edge of the forest, so the raindrops spat into the wooden panels. The wicked scream of wind and the tickling fire inside were distracting. Despite all these distractions, I managed to count the sounds of the paper. He paused at the longest part of the script, approximately one-third of its length.


    This would cover An Nhi¨ºn


    As it had dense foliage


    Would not be that grien,


    If thy picked up a leaf,


    It would sing songs of grief


    If sky punished with storm,


    It would stand still as a reef.


    An Nhi¨ºn was D?t L?c¡¯s old name. The name had endured thousands of years with the tears of the blood of our nation, Th?nh Th¨¢i. An enormous plant, growing faster than the passage of time, engulfed the island, providing protection against all challenges. They were known as storm trees. Thousands, or millions, of storm trees used to be there, living on the island, hundreds of years before His Majesty gave Lord Ph?m the authority to rule this island. Storm trees are huge bushes thrive in coastal areas, where they are exposed to salt water and typically find sandy or rocky soil. The leaves are young and verdant, with a silky texture similar to that of porcelain flower leaves. The white fruits and blossoms are a year-round sight. The blossoms resemble fan shapes.


    However, the plant was no longer as prevalent as before. There had been remnants of it around the island, but it was not always at the edges. We found some remnants in the middle of the island, right next to the red cotton tree. Some of them were flying on residents¡¯ houses. They were insignificant to everyone just six months ago, but now I was quite sure that if anyone could find more remnants of that plant, Lord Ph?m, or even the court, would grant them money that they could live on for their whole life. I let out a sigh, gazing at the missing left arm. The pain and the grief of losing Th?y made me not think straight. Everyone on this island were worried, but the court''s worry was unmatched. A part of their land suddenly drifted away, surrounded by an invisible wall. I wondered how many men the court had sent here to figure out the way to help.


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    My mind drifted to the souls of that pitiful young woman and the merchant inside the red cotton tree. I wondered if they were just separated from their loved ones, so they were so desperate in being with each other and leaning in each other comfort. I would hug Th?y and spun her around if I met her right now, too. The version that I believed was that the woman was the merchant¡¯s wife, and perhaps he forgot her due to an accident, or some curses. Anyway, the Taoist monks and his cloak had prevented these two souls to find each other. But why the two souls savage the residents? Tales were meant to be retold, but I really needed answers now. However, following that path seemed impossible, since the last Taoist had left our nation roughly a hundred years ago.


    ¡°A hundred leaves would lead to the banyan tree.¡± I was startled by Ph?m Th? An¡¯s sudden aloud reading. He glanced at me and continued. ¡°The banyan tree with thirteen roots, but only the fourth root could pierce through any circumstance.¡± He looked up, as if waiting for my response.


    ¡°Why are you looking at me?¡± I asked.


    ¡°We will come to find the storm trees¡¯ leaves.¡± His voice was firm.


    ¡°No.¡± I looked straight into his eyes.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I''d lost my arm. I was weak.¡±


    ¡°Interesting, but I¡¯m no dumb.¡± He sighed and continued. "You''re intelligent enough to know that not only you but also thousands of people are also finding their way." They all lost their loved ones, didn¡¯t they? A leaf is not that heavy.¡± He paused, his mouth forming a circle of disgust, ¡°Or you may not be as intelligent as I imagined?¡±


    ¡°And you''re smart enough to know the island was split, so not all leaves were on this half.¡± My voice was much louder and ruder than I intended, but I had no regrets. He deserved that.


    ¡°Do you forget the doubled river?¡± He asked as if the most normal thing ever existed.


    ¡°But that was red now. It was no longer usable,¡± I trailed off, feeling that I had really forgotten something. The river''s songs of rocks and crocodiles were the loudest, but since when had they become muted? I had a brief flashback to those memories. The river was red. The color of the river was a deep shade of red. But why?


    "It was not suitable for use." I repeated, trusting my instincts anyway. ¡°You could not just use it to duplicate the leaves.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°You cannot use magic to do dumb tricks. The price must be terrible.¡± I almost yelled.


    His hollow eyes narrowed, causing me to shudder as I observed his pallid face.


    ¡°I won¡¯t listen to you,¡± he confirmed.


    ¡°Then don¡¯t.¡± I was so tired of arguing.


    ¡°But you must follow me.¡± He turned away, about to leave.


    ¡°I¡¯m not your servant,¡± I shouted.


    ¡°Then, what are you?¡±


    ¡°My father helped your family gain this position.¡± I grinned my teeth.


    ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡±


    Ph?m Th? An slammed the door shut too strongly, and Mai Anh moaned in her sleep. The rain was still droning in the forest. Most of the candles had melted. It was dark¡ªso dark. I saw my shadow, which was much bigger than me. I leaned on that. I never had a close relationship with my father, nor did I rely heavily on him, yet his reputation maintained my pride. And he¡¯s dead. The dead could never fight the living.