The Mystic Sounds of Southern Fujian

The waves at Citong Harbor always carry a hint of sweetness.

The Twelve Golden Hairpins wield more than magical artifacts: A Ying's golden leaf holds her mother's soul, A Shuang's chain-flame burns with fragments of tinware, and Dongling's embroidery thread coils around fragments of finger bones. They protect more than just children. They also guard the Chinese pistache saplings planted with the mothers' soul-blood.

Garona's purple roots always burrow toward sweetness, stealing children's laughter and gnawing at the Golden Hairpins' thoughts. But she doesn't know that the scar on her brow holds the malt candy Yingmei once tucked there. Beneath the skinny monk's ragged robe, his scars burn as hot as the sugar crumbs. When the fat cat's claws slash through evil spirits, the sweet scent clinging to its fur is the obsession of Yingmei's soul-pet.

When the sweet seed in the ancient god's heart and the purple roots intertwine in a knot of death, and the mothers' spirits tremble within the magical artifacts, the new Golden Hairpins finally understand: the wind of Minnan has always carried two flavors. The fiercest killing blows are wrapped in the sweetest warmth; the deepest scars grow the toughest flowers.

And hidden beneath the keel of the Gui Xu vessel, besides the evil fetus, are the unspoken words of twelve mothers:

“Girl, you have to earn your own sweetness.”