Sein was consumed by memories of Zeya as she tugged at a clump of weeds. She could never decipher the true meaning behind his words or actions. Words were easy. Anyone could say the right thing, make promises, speak of tomorrows that never came. But actions... actions stood like ancient trees, unmoved by storms, reliable through all seasons.
As her thoughts churned, she absently reached out, her fingers brushing the furry leaves of a stinger plant instead of the harmless weed beside it. The prickly sting assaulting her skin, snapped her back to the present moment. She hadn't experienced this sensation before. She marvelled at the power of the tiny plant when she heard the old man approach.
"My dear girl, did you touch the stinger plant?" Ungyi asked sympathetically. "Not to worry. Here, I will find something to soothe the pain."
He hovered over a clump of weeds and picked several young leaves.
"This will help. People often choose the big leaves but, it is the tender young leaves that are more effective."
He crushed the leaf in his palms producing a sticky paste.
"Now, rub it into your skin like this."
He applied it gently with his rough weathered hands.
"Much appreciated, Ungyi," Sein said, a little surprised at the immediate soothing relief she felt. "This is the broadleaf plant. Am I right?"
"Ah… you are familiar with it. Yes, yes," Ungyi gave a crooked-toothed grin.
"It is a marvel to find the antidote plant close by."
The old man nodded.
"The broadleaf always grow besides the stinger plant. It is a pair. There is never one without the other. A bit like my wife and I. We were never separate until she passed."
A warm grin spread slowly across Sein's face, thinking about the lasting affection Ungyi held for his wife.
Ungyi giggled as he continued, "I am the stinger of course, and she was the broadleaf, an everlasting soothing presence in my life."
Sein's eyes softened, his words playful yet full of tenderness. The old man studied her with curiosity and commented, "There is something about you that stirs an old memory."
Sein was surprised by his comment and raised an eyebrow. Had he seen through her, sensed that she was not mortal at all? She remained silent, waiting to see what he would say next.
"It is not only the way you carry yourself, but the look in your eyes. There is depth there, dignity, and a kind of stillness that doesn't come easily. It reminds me of the noble ladies I once saw as a boy," Ungyi chuckled, his eyes turning into slits.
Sein let out a breath, feeling relieved.
"My wife had that same quality about her. You see, her family descended from the devoted servants of the kings of old. She taught me a great deal about our history and of the world beyond the northern hills."
Seeing the far away look in Ungyi's eyes, reminiscing about his wife, Sein asked, "What did you learn from your wife, Ungyi? I would love to hear about them."
She wanted to indulge Ungyi in his memory.
Ungyi's face lit up as he said, "She had many stories about the kingdom of old. These stories are passed down through the generations. They are not recorded anywhere."
This peaked Sein's interest. "What kind of stories? Would you share them with me?"
"Yes, I will," the old man nodded. He moved towards the little house, as he said, "I will brew some tea. These stories are best told over a good cuppa."
After pouring hot water into a tea pot, Ungyi brought it outside and placed it on the front porch. They sat down on upturned wooden containers as temporary seats.
The old man began with a story about a prince who wasn't allowed to eat honey.
"The Prince had a sweet tooth and often desired a bit of honey on his fruit or a little stirred into his tea. His loyal servants were strictly forbidden to comply. It turned out that a soft hearted servant secretly indulged him. This kindness nearly killed the prince. He had an allergic reaction to honey and was only saved because his master had knowledge in herbs and reacted quickly." Ungyi paused, letting the weight of his words settle, then asked, "Can you guess the plant he used?"
Sein shook her head.
The old man pointed in the direction of the garden and said, "The stinger plant. The prince was fed the juice and it saved him. He learnt never to seek anything sweet again. His allergy to honey was forgotten when he became King. He ruled for many years until he died suddenly. People thought it was because his time had come. But his most loyal servant, who knew him from his youth, was suspicious.
"He believed King Aung had been deliberately given honey. Of course at the time, no one believed the servant, Garma Gyi. My wife's family descended from that devoted servant. Since no one believed him and some thought he was out to cause trouble, he fled the capital when Han Min took over."
The name Han Min brought to mind a sea of scrolls, beautiful pale eyes and a forlorn sense of longing. Before those memories could pull her under, she anchored herself in the present and asked, "Who deliberately gave King Aung honey?"
"The person who stepped into the King's position."
Sein's mind couldn't quite comprehend what was being said. It was as though she'd been handed a cryptic sentence she could not yet unscramble.
"No one believed the truth. Even you are looking at me like I am a crazy old man telling you this," Ungyi laughed, it was a gentle sound that interrupted the bird songs briefly. "I can tell you Garma Gyi kept a careful record of what occurred and passed down this knowledge like an heirloom."
"Are you saying King Han Min murdered King Aung to take his place?" Sein said, still in disbelief.
"Indeed. Han Min was power obsessed, a ruthless man with no moral scruples what so ever. Some rumours tell of a tale that might make one pity this man. He was the youngest of six sons, born to a mother who longed desperately for a daughter. The birth was difficult, and after Han Min she could bear no more children.
"That unfulfilled desire seemed to shape everything that followed. She dressed him in girls clothing, and for years many believed he was a girl. He was a strikingly beautiful child, and his mother clung to the illusion of the daughter she never had, even as he grew into his teenage years. As a man, she rejected him. She could not let go of her imaginary daughter. You can understand how deeply that would torment a young mind. He craved love and approval from his mother, but received none."
"That sounds terribly sad."
"Yes, but it does not excuse his conduct and behaviour, but it might explain the root of his resentment and hatred. The young man grew up taking advantage of his good looks and charisma to propel him to a position of power. He married the youngest princess to get a foot in the royal household if you know what I mean. She had just turned sixteen and was very impressionable. A handsome man like Han Min swept her off her feet. Once he was part of the royal family, he plotted and planned to take over the kingdom. How he learnt of the King's allergy to honey, no one knows. But he knew it and used that knowledge to murder the King."
Sein remained silent, trying to process the information. It felt like chasing shadows with a lantern. Was it because King Han Min had embodied the ideal man in her mind? Even Zeya spoke of him as a shining example of the great kings of old. Having placed him on a pedestal, it was difficult to reconcile that image with the version Ungyi described.
"There is more to the story," Ungyi continued, his fingers laced together, cupping the tea. "Finally after twenty two years under his rule, Han Min was defeated by Prince Amptu in a duel. Prince Amptu was considered the rightful heir to the throne, yet he died in his sleep that very night. Was it a natural death? Or was Prince Amptu similarly murdered? He was in good health, in the prime of his life but he had inherited his father's allergy to honey."
Sein's mind was about to erupt from this revelation. Her heart racing, as piece by piece, a jigsaw was beginning to come together.
I need to tell Zeya. But realising at the same time, I don't live in that world anymore. How could I possibly tell him?
"Who… who murdered Prince Amptu?" Sein pressed, struggling to keep her voice steady. Her palms moisten as her fingers tightened the fabric of her skirt.
After all these years, was she finally on the verge of uncovering the truth? It was this very mystery that brought her and Zeya together. They'd spent countless hours debating and dissecting what might have occurred, all the while believing they would never truly know. She held her breath, waiting for the answer.
The old man took a sip of tea before responding, "The person who physically served him the honey is of little importance. The true culprit is the one who influenced the hand that carried out the act or perhaps coerced them into it. When Garma Gyi heard of Prince Amptu's death, he returned to the capital. It was, of course, too late to do anything. He believed, however, that Han Min had left instructions for one of his chamberlains to kill Prince Amptu, and had even detailed how it was to be done. Without any external wounds or marks, no one would believe he was murdered."
His words left her hollow, as though something inside her had been carved away. Learning the truth brought no comfort. Instead, it stirred long-forgotten memories, especially that heartfelt message she'd stumbled upon in the Archives. At the time, she assumed it was written by Prince Amptu's lover. Now she realised the initials G.G. must have stood for Garma Gyi. The final piece had fallen into place.
"You see, Han Min ruled with a jaguar's grip. He crushed dissent at the bone, and in its place bred fear and hatred."
Ungyi's remark snapped her back to the moment.
Fear and hate?
Sein was dumbfounded. She'd never read or heard those two words in relation to King Han Min. Everyone loved him. What was Ungyi saying now?
When Ungyi didn't expand on it, she asked, "How did he create fear and hate?"
"Well, I cannot say for certain, but Han Min divided the kingdom. He sowed distrust and intolerance among the people. The tension at court grew so thick that no one knew who was loyal to whom. Everyone became suspicious of everyone else. Garma Gyi believed Han Min was a master manipulator of the mind. Those who were from nobility feared losing their wealth and status. And ordinary citizens resented the nobility because of those privileges. He pitched one against the other."
This was difficult for Sein to hear. She was still struggling to reconcile this new version of Han Min with her previous beliefs. She needed to hold onto the hope that, despite the heinous acts he'd committed, some good had at least emerged from his reign.
"I have read the history scrolls on King Han Min and it is said he brought prosperity to numerous people," she pointed out.
Ungyi chuckled softly. "Prosperity to those who were under his control. Yes, he was generous with his wealth. He understood people well. Their greatest wishes, their greatest fears and their greatest weaknesses. He had them under his thumb."
"But… isn't King Han Min, now Spirit of Prosperity?"
"Correct, how he became Spirit of Prosperity is a mystery. After all these years he still has influence over people using fear, creating scarcity and feelings of unworthiness."
Ungyi shook his head.
"We do not follow Spirit of Prosperity in these parts. It means we do not live in abundance of material wealth but we do have control of our lives. Han Min cannot reach us here. He has no power over us because we do not believe in him. We are devotees of our regional spirits who are genuine in helping us. They do not want to control us. We are free from fear and feelings of unworthiness. And we have a blessed life, focused on what we do have rather than what we do not."
Sein recalled what Zeya told her in the Archives. The Queen was a super devotee of Spirit of Prosperity. Was she under his control? She desperately wished she could tell Zeya what she'd just learnt. He'd been right to assume the truth lay in stories passed down through generations.
"I have read many accounts by scholars and nobles on King Han Min. It only painted the picture of a king much loved and admired," Sein said, though now she couldn't help but question whether she'd only sought the voices that supported that view. "Why was none of this ever recorded?"
As the words left her lips, it struck her how willingly she'd ignored any view that challenged the perfect image she'd built of the man.
"Simply put, he controlled information therefore controlled people," Ungyi replied. "And since he controlled people, he shaped the information passed on."
"I see."
This made Sein wonder if the missing scroll she was searching for had been deliberately hidden to conceal the truth behind Han Min.
"Han Min had the kind of charm and good looks that disarmed people," Ungyi continued. "That is the most dangerous type of evil. When someone looks evil and is evil then it is plain to see. He on the other hand looked like a god, but was the devil. And it seems he has managed to deceive people to this day. Very few people are aware of what lies beneath his supreme spirit status."
The revelation left Sein reeling, as though her carefully structured belief that people ascended through good deeds was beginning to unravel. She herself had achieved very little in life, and that truth seemed reflected in her status as Spirit of Cloth. But King Han Min? If Ungyi was right, why had Han Min ascended as a supreme spirit?
"Come now," Ungyi interrupted her dark thoughts. "All this talk of Han Min is ruining our morning. Let us finish planting. Remember to avoid touching the stinger plant."
He rose to his feet slowly.
"Ungyi, why not rest a little longer," Sein suggested, seeing the discomfort in the man's face. "I will plant the bitter gourds under your guidance."
"Much appreciated. You are a good girl," Ungyi said, sitting back down.
Once the bitter gourd seedlings were planted underneath a bamboo frame, that served as a makeshift trellis, Sein tied any little plants that were tall enough to the poles with a strand of cotton.
While she worked, her thoughts returned to the meticulously recorded deeds attributed to Han Min: the honourable choices, the acts of generosity, the selfless resolve.
How could she let go of that idealised figure? The man Zeya sought to emulate. But she must.
A hollowness settled in her chest, empty yet unbearably heavy. She allowed herself a moment to grieve the loss of the man she had believed in, drawing a steady breath as she returned to her task.
"Excellent job, Sein. In a few months, we will have something to harvest," Ungyi said with confidence. "Take a break. I am well rested. I will fetch water for the plants."
He went back inside the house to find a container.
As Sein admired her hard work, her ears picked up something in the direction of the fields, where the girls were working. It sounded like Kin La's voice but she couldn't make out the exact words.
Sein rushed into the house and said to Ungyi, "I am going to the fields to see Kin La and Thiri. I will be right back."
As soon as she heard an acknowledgement from Ungyi, she took off.
Before Sein reached the field, there were two silhouettes in the distance walking slowly on the road. When she drew nearer, she saw it was Kin La and Thiri.
She hastened her pace and cried out, "Kin La! Thiri! What's happened?"
Kin La had her arm around Thiri who appeared to be distraught. Seeing Sein, Kin La brightened up and called back, "Sein, Thiri's hurt herself."
Thiri had been breaking up large stones for the small wall they were constructing. However, in a moment of distraction, her hand slipped, sending the hammer crashing down on her thumb. It was red, swollen and angry. The girl looked to be in obvious pain despite putting on a brave face.
"Thiri, come," Sein said with concern.
A genuine wish to ease the girl's pain stirred within her, and she realised this was her chance to test her healing abilities. She might not have done much in her past life or achieved anything remarkable, but now she had the opportunity to make a small difference. Even if it was something as small as healing a swollen thumb.
"It's alright. I can still move it," Thiri said, holding out her thumb. "Ow ouch!" She gave a grimace of pain.
Sein pulled out the cloth she'd used to dry her hands, carefully cleansing it as she infused it with her spiritual power, making sure it was as hygienic.
"I have this which has been blessed by Spirit of Cloth," she said.
"…"
"…"
The girls merely blinked at her. They didn't know what to make of it. Sein continued to explain, "The cloth has healing properties. Let me see if it will help, Thiri."
She took the girl's hand in her own, her touch gentle as she wrapped the cloth around the thumb. Clearing her mind, she created a blank canvas, focusing solely on the task. She imagined the pain fading away, like droplets of water evaporating under the sun, and visualised the thumb healing, the damaged tissue knitting together and inflammation melting away. Within seconds, Thiri's eyes widened.
"Did it work?" Kin La asked her sister.
Thiri nodded, too astonished for words. Sein pulled away the cloth from her thumb and the swelling had completely disappeared.
Thiri gasped, "How on earth did you do that?"
"Spirit of Cloth," Sein said simply.
"Really! I thought Spirit of Cloth looked after clothing needs. This spirit also heals?" Kin La exclaimed.
She took the cloth Sein was holding to examine it closely.
"It seems so," Sein responded.
"That's amazing!" Kin La said, then glancing at her sister, she continued, "You scared the living spirits out of me. You're a lucky girl Sein had the healing cloth. Why are you so clumsy today? It's not like you."
"That's because I…I'm…" Thiri didn't finish her sentence. She glanced away as if recalling the moment.
"You were gawking at lover boy, weren't you!" Kin La exclaimed, having worked out something from her sister's reaction.
"No I wasn't looking at that stupid boy!" Thiri retorted, folding her arms in defence. "He's so annoying! I was giving him my death stare."
Kin La seeing her sister back to normal, continued to tease her, "Don't be shy. You've got eyes for him, huh? He likes you, you know."
Thiri rolled her eyes. "I can't hear anything. Sein, is my sister speaking to me?"
Sein chuckled, feeling a little giddy from reaping the rewards of her achievement. A wave of exhilaration surged through her, tinged with a deep sense of accomplishment. A rush of feel-good energy flooded her veins, invigorating both mind and body. So this was what it felt like to make even a small difference in someone's life. Her desire to heal others began to bloom.
Word of Spirit of Cloth's healing powers spread quickly across Sagyo. Many elderly villagers came seeking relief for their minor ailments, leaving pieces of fabric on the spirit's altar in hopes of her blessing.
Sein obliged, imbuing the cloth with her power. In return, the altar became laden with offerings of food, a gesture of thanks from the grateful villagers. As prayers continued to pour in regularly, she realised power did not come solely from worth or deeds, but from how many believed in her.