Page 69 of Heir to a Curse
“Then she is well cared for.” He made his way to the tree. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a small bag, and from it what appeared to be a handful of coins on decorative strings. “These were believed to expel evil spirits and break curses,” Zhao informed me. “Several from different eras. There are collectors of these.”
“Sounds expensive,” I remarked, wondering if he planned to leave the coins.
He reached up to hang them from the offering plate near Xiang’s name. “Not more valuable than breaking a curse.” He took some incense, and even a few paper talismans from the pocket of his jacket and added them to the plate, lighting them one by one and murmuring a few words in Chinese.
When the talisman was lit, it flared up in a bright green first, before flashing into an orange flame and burning down fast. Parlor tricks, or real magic?
Zhao put his hand over Xiang’s name, then traced the characters, and drew something else with his finger over the marble wall. It didn’t make any cool sparks or anything, but after a minute or two he nodded and stepped away.
“Do I need to do anything special?” I asked, motioning toward myself and the staff who were lined up out the door, keeping distance, but all waiting to pay respects to Sofia, and offer forgiveness to Xiang. Lots of history was about ceremony. Life in general really. Marriage had a ceremony. Birth and death had a ceremony, so much required acknowledgment. A simple, yet hard-won thing. I’d tried to research online, to find out of there was a particular ceremony required to remove curses, but if there was, it wasn’t posted anywhere Google could find it.
“I believe it’s more in the heart than the words,” Zhao said.
And that made sense. If his family didn’t reallywantto forgive him, would it even work? I thought to ask, but then decided against it. I couldn’t make them feel anything, neither could Zhao. The research I’d given them, about Xiang’s existence and how he’d been exiled for no valid reason, as he’d been little more than a teen when first sent away, would have to be enough to prove his innocence.
I stepped up to the wall, added incense, lit it, and traced Xiang’s name with my fingers. I had it memorized now, had even begun taking one of those online courses teaching Mandarin. I wasn’t sure that was what Xiang spoke, but had to start somewhere. “As Zachary Frank, heart son of Sofia Yang, I offer my apology and forgiveness to Jun Xiang. May he find peace from his exile.” I added another flower beneath his name, a white rose, thorns still attached, because that’s what Xiang had been to me. Beautiful, delicate, and strong, yet clipped and taken from his home.
When I moved away, Mr. Yamamoto made his way up. I stood outside, watching everyone pay their respects and offer forgiveness and flowers to Sofia and Xiang. Filling the offering plate and the scent in the air with soothing lavender.
Once everyone was finished, we closed the shrine doors, I thanked everyone and walked Zhao back to his car. “I appreciate this,” I told him.
“I would like to offer some monetary exchange for the furniture.”
“I don’t need it.”
“We removed a lot…”
I shrugged. “It’s just stuff. Some things are more important than stuff.”
He nodded. “I will send videos from the others once I have them.” He glanced back at the house. “Can we visit the shrine here, from time to time? My family?”
“Of course.”
He bowed his head, and I mirrored him, then watched him get in his car. Hope burned in my gut, yet nothing felt any different. But there was work to be done. The house was half furnished and in need of some updates. I could focus on that for a while at least.