Spring Returns to the Withered Wood

I was born with a strange illness.

The clan matriarch said it could only be cured if I married on my eighteenth birthday.

But no one in the clan wanted to marry a sickly girl like me.

With no other choice, my father offered a large sum of money and had me throw an embroidered ball to choose a husband.

I shut my eyes and steeled myself. Whoever it hits, I'll marry!

Who could have known that just as I tossed the ball, a grand procession of wandering gods was passing by the end of the street?

The embroidered ball landed squarely in the hands of a god statue.