Last of the Dragons

(Public Domain Story)

Of course you know that dragons were once as common as motor-omnibuses are now, and almost as dangerous. But as every well-brought-up prince was expected to kill a dragon, and rescue a princess, the dragons grew fewer and fewer till it was often quite hard for a princess to find a dragon to be rescued from. And at last there were no more dragons in France and no more dragons in Germany, or Spain, or Italy, or Russia. There were some left in China, and are still, but they are cold and bronzy, and there were never any, of course, in America. But the last real live dragon left was in England, and of course that was a very long time ago, before what you call English History began. This dragon lived in Cornwall in the big caves amidst the rocks, and a very fine dragon it was, quite seventy feet long from the tip of its fearful snout to the end of its terrible tail. It breathed fire and smoke, and rattled when it walked, because its scales were made of iron. Its wings were like half-umbrellas -- or like bat's wings, only several thousand times bigger. Everyone was very frightened of it, and well they might be.

Now the King of Cornwall had one daughter, and when she was sixteen, of course she would have to go and face the dragon: such tales are always told in royal nurseries at twilight, so the Princess knew what she had to expect. The dragon would not eat her, of course -- because the prince would come and rescue her. But the Princess could not help thinking it would be much pleasanter to have nothing to do with the dragon at all -- not even to be rescued from him. `All the princes I know are such very silly little boys,' she told her father. `Why must I be rescued by a prince?'

`It's always done, my dear,' said the King, taking his crown off and putting it on the grass, for they were alone in the garden, and even kings must unbend sometimes.

`Father, darling,' said the Princess presently, when she had made a daisy chain and put it on the King's head, where the crown ought to have been. `Father, darling, couldn't we tie up one of the silly little princes for the dragon to look at -- and then I could go and kill the dragon and rescue the prince? I fence much better than any of the princes we know.'

`What an unladylike idea!' said the King, and put his crown on again, for he saw the Prime Minister coming with a basket of new-laid Bills for him to sign. `Dismiss the thought, my child. I rescued your mother from a dragon, and you don't want to set yourself up above her, I should hope?'

`But this is the last dragon. It is different from all other dragons.'

`How?' asked the King.

`Because he is the last,' said the Princess, and went off to her fencing lessons, with which she took great pains. She took great pains with all her lessons -- for she could not give up the idea of fighting the dragon. She took such pains that she became the strongest and boldest and most skilful and most sensible princess in Europe. She had always been the prettiest and nicest.

And the days and years went on, till at last the day came which was the day before the Princess was to be rescued from the dragon. The Prince who was to do this deed of valour was a pale prince, with large eyes and a head full of mathematics and philosophy, but he had unfortunately neglected his fencing lessons. He was to stay the night at the palace, and there was a banquet.

After supper the Princess sent her pet parrot to the Prince with a note. It said:

Please, Prince, come on to the terrace. I want to talk to you without anybody else hearing. --The Princess.

So, of course, he went -- and he saw her gown of silver a long way off shining among the shadows of the trees like water in starlight. And when he came quite close to her he said: `Princess, at your service,' and bent his cloth-of-gold-covered knee and put his hand on his cloth-of-gold-covered heart.

`Do you think,' said the Princess earnestly, `that you will be able to kill the dragon?'

`I will kill the dragon,' said the Prince firmly, `or perish in the attempt.'

`It's no use your perishing,' said the Princess.

`It's the least I can do,' said the Prince.

`What I'm afraid of is that it'll be the most you can do,' said the Princess.

`It's the only thing I can do,' said he, `unless I kill the dragon.'

`Why you should do anything for me is what I can't see,' said she.

`But I want to,' he said. `You must know that I love you better than anything in the world.'

When he said that he looked so kind that the Princess began to like him a little.

`Look here,' she said, `no one else will go out tomorrow. You know they tie me to a rock and leave me -- and then everybody scurries home and puts up the shutters and keeps them shut till you ride through the town in triumph shouting that you've killed the dragon, and I ride on the horse behind you weeping for joy.'

`I've heard that that is how it is done,' said he.

`Well, do you love me well enough to come very quickly and set me free -- and we'll fight the dragon together?'

'It wouldn't be safe for you.'

`Much safer for both of us for me to be free, with a sword in my hand, than tied up and helpless. Do agree.'

He could refuse her nothing. So he agreed. And next day everything happened as she had said.

When he had cut the cords that tied her to the rock they stood on the lonely mountain-side looking at each other.

`It seems to me,' said the Prince, `that this ceremony could have been arranged without the dragon.'

`Yes,' said the Princess, `but since it has been arranged with the dragon --'

`It seems such a pity to kill the dragon -- the last in the world,' said the Prince.

`Well then, don't let's,' said the Princess; `let's tame it not to eat princesses but to eat out of their hands. They say everything can be tamed by kindness.'

`Taming by kindness means giving them things to eat,' said the Prince. `Have you got anything to eat?'

She hadn't, but the Prince owned that he had a few biscuits. `Breakfast was so very early,' said he, `and I thought you might have felt faint after the fight.'

`How clever,' said the Princess, and they took a biscuit in each hand. And they looked here, and they looked there, but never a dragon could they see.

`But here's its trail,' said the Prince, and pointed to where the rock was scarred and scratched so as to make a track leading to a dark cave. It was like cart-ruts in a Sussex road, mixed with the marks of sea-gull's feet on the sea-sand. `Look, that's where it's dragged its brass tail and planted its steel claws.'

`Don't let's think how hard its tail and claws are,' said the Princess, `or I shall begin to be frightened -- and I know you can't tame anything, even by kindness, if you're frightened of it. Come on. Now or never.'

She caught the Prince's hand in hers and they ran along the path towards the dark mouth of the cave. But they did not run into it. It really was so very dark.

So they stood outside, and the Prince shouted: `What ho! Dragon there! What ho within!' And from the cave they heard an answering voice and great clattering and creaking. It sounded as though a rather large cotton-mill were stretching itself and waking up out of its sleep.

The Prince and the Princess trembled, but they stood firm.

`Dragon -- I say, dragon!' said the Princess, `do come out and talk to us. We've brought you a present.'

`Oh yes -- I know your presents,' growled the dragon in a huge rumbling voice. `One of those precious princesses, I suppose? And I've got to come out and fight for her. Well, I tell you straight, I'm not going to do it. A fair fight I wouldn't say no to -- a fair fight and no favour -- but one of those put-up fights where you've got to lose -- no! So I tell you. If I wanted a princess I'd come and take her, in my own time -- but I don't. What do you suppose I'd do with her, if I'd got her?'

`Eat her, wouldn't you?' said the Princess, in a voice that trembled a little.

`Eat a fiddle-stick end,' said the dragon very rudely. `I wouldn't touch the horrid thing.'

The Princess's voice grew firmer.

`Do you like biscuits?' she said.

`No,' growled the dragon.

`Not the nice little expensive ones with sugar on the top?'

`No,' growled the dragon.

`Then what do you like?' asked the Prince.

`You go away and don't bother me,' growled the dragon, and they could hear it turn over, and the clang and clatter of its turning echoed in the cave like the sound of the steam-hammers in the Arsenal at Woolwich.

The Prince and Princess looked at each other. What were they to do? Of course it was no use going home and telling the King that the dragon didn't want princesses -- because His Majesty was very old-fashioned and would never have believed that a new-fashioned dragon could ever be at all different from an old-fashioned dragon. They could not go into the cave and kill the dragon. Indeed, unless he attacked the Princess it did not seem fair to kill him at all.

`He must like something,' whispered the Princess, and she called out in a voice as sweet as honey and sugar-cane:

`Dragon! Dragon dear!'

`WHAT?' shouted the dragon. `Say that again!' and they could hear the dragon coming towards them through the darkness of the cave. The Princess shivered, and said in a very small voice:

`Dragon -- Dragon dear!'

And then the dragon came out. The Prince drew his sword, and the Princess drew hers -- the beautiful silver-handled one that the Prince had brought in his motor-car. But they did not attack; they moved slowly back as the dragon came out, all the vast scaly length of him, and lay along the rock -- his great wings half spread and his silvery sheen gleaming like diamonds in the sun. At last they could retreat no further -- the dark rock behind them stopped their way -- and with their backs to the rock they stood swords in hand and waited.

The dragon grew nearer and nearer -- and now they could see that he was not breathing fire and smoke as they had expected -- he came crawling slowly towards them wriggling a little as a puppy does when it wants to play and isn't quite sure whether you're not cross with it.

And then they saw that great tears were coursing down its brazen cheek.

`Whatever's the matter?' said the Prince.

`Nobody,' sobbed the dragon, `ever called me "dear" before!'

`Don't cry, dragon dear,' said the Princess. `We'll call you "dear" as often as you like. We want to tame you.'

`I am tame,' said the dragon -- `that's just it. That's what nobody but you has ever found out. I'm so tame that I'd eat out of your hands.'

`Eat what, dragon dear?' said the Princess. `Not biscuits?' The dragon slowly shook his heavy head.

`Not biscuits?' said the Princess tenderly. `What, then, dragon dear?'

`Your kindness quite undragons me,' it said. `No one has ever asked any of us what we like to eat -- always offering us princesses, and then rescuing them -- and never once, "What'll you take to drink the King's health in?" Cruel hard I call it,' and it wept again.

`But what would you like to drink our health in?' said the Prince. `We're going to be married today, aren't we, Princess?'

She said that she supposed so.

`What'll I take to drink your health in?' asked the dragon. `Ah, you're something like a gentleman, you are, sir. I don't mind if I do, sir. I'll be proud to drink you and your good lady's health in a tiny drop of' -- its voice faltered -- `to think of you asking me so friendly like,' it said. `Yes, sir, just a tiny drop of puppuppuppuppupetrol -- tha-that's what does a dragon good, sir --'

`I've lots in the car,' said the Prince, and was off down the mountain in a flash. He was a good judge of character and knew that with this dragon the Princess would be safe.

`If I might make so bold,' said the dragon, `while the gentleman's away -- p'raps just to pass the time you'd be so kind as to call me Dear again, and if you'd shake claws with a poor old dragon that's never been anybody's enemy but his own -- well, the last of the dragons will be the proudest dragon that's ever been since the first of them.'

It held out an enormous paw, and the great steel hooks that were its claws closed over the Princess's hand as softly as the claws of the Himalayan bear will close over the bit of bun you hand it through the bars at the Zoo.

And so the Prince and Princess went back to the palace in triumph, the dragon following them like a pet dog. And all through the wedding festivities no one drank more earnestly to the happiness of the bride and bridegroom than the Princess's pet dragon -- whom she had at once named Fido.

And when the happy pair were settled in their own kingdom, Fido came to them and begged to be allowed to make himself useful.

`There must be some little thing I can do,' he said, rattling his wings and stretching his claws. `My wings and claws and so on ought to be turned to some account -- to say nothing of my grateful heart.'

So the Prince had a special saddle or howdah made for him -- very long it was -- like the tops of many tramcars fitted together. One hundred and fifty seats were fitted to this, and the dragon, whose greatest pleasure was now to give pleasure to others, delighted in taking parties of children to the seaside. It flew through the air quite easily with its hundred and fifty little passengers -- and would lie on the sand patiently waiting till they were ready to return. The children were very fond of it, and used to call it Dear, a word which never failed to bring tears of affection and gratitude to its eyes. So it lived, useful and respected, till quite the other day -- when someone happened to say, in his hearing, that dragons were out-of-date, now so much new machinery had come in. This so distressed him that he asked the King to change him into something less old-fashioned, and the kindly monarch at once changed him into a mechanical contrivance. The dragon, indeed, became the first aeroplane.

The End.

Kiyohime and the Heartless Priest

Kiyohime and the Heartless Priest

(A Japanese Folklore Revised by BoSt  ) 

According to Japanese folklore Kiyohime (or simply Kiyo) was the daughter of a village headman named Shōji, on the Hidaka riverbank. The family was wealthy enough to entertain and provide lodging for traveling priests, who often passed by on their way to a shrine famous for ascetic practices.

One day a handsome visiting priest named Anchin, having arrived at dusk, accepted the gracious invitation to be Shoji’s guest for the night.

He was served a sumptuous meal and, was treated very well all during the evening with his needs generously provided for. He was even given the best bedroom. Unfortunately during the course of the night his attention was taken by Shoji’s rather bashful, beautiful daughter Kiyo.

As Anchin was rather a debonair, handsome young priest with suave manners and eloquent tongue, Kiyo quickly became smitten by him.

Anchin seeing that his feelings were reciprocated, and so wanting more time to get to know Kiyo, he deferred his morning departure and instead made up a plausible excuse so as to extend his stay for a few more days.

It was a beautiful time of year, when the Earth wore the bright coloured cloak of spring and frolicking birds and insects filled the air with cheerful melody. A few surreptitious, fervent meetings led to intimacy and Anachin, having totally lost his head, fell deeply in love with Kiyo.

Unfortunately Anchin, being a principled, devout individual most dedicated to his vocation, just as quickly snapped out of his infatuation and regained his senses,. From then on his demeanor was icy cold towards her and he refrained from any further covert meetings. Poor Kiyo wracked her brains for any explanation for this sudden change in Anchin and, failing to do so, fell into deep dismay.

In her view she’d been taken advantage of and most cruelly and reprehensibly victimized by Anachin; especially since until then she had been virtuous and proper. The rejection by this heartless rogue Priest fed the furies of her emotions fanning them into intense hatred.

When one afternoon Kiyohime was away visiting a neighbour, Anachin took advantage of her absence to escape this sticky situation. He quietly made his excuses to his host Shoji and quickly departed.

She was incensed when she returned and found him already gone without a word. Beside herself, she dashed out of the house leaving her baffled father behind.

Tears coursing down her cheeks she ran and ran in hot pursuit of the unfaithful lover, with her heart in a terrible grip of fiery rage.

Kiyohime eventually caught up with Anchin at the edge of the Hidaka River. Anchin, sighting her first, quickly hired the moored ferryman to help him across the river. Once on board, Anchin pressed the boatmen to gain speed. Paying him additional funds, he further cautioned the boatman not to let her cross after him.

Poor, distraught Kiyohime was crushed when she saw Anchin’s icy, heartless glare before he turned his face away to urge the boatmen for speed. She was so incensed; she bit her lip until blood trickled down her chin. Oblivious to her pain she dove into the rapid flowing river and started to swim towards them. She wanted some explanation, even a feeble excuse for his breaking his promise to her. While swimming in the torrent of the Hidaka River, thrashing this way and that, her heart was so filled with rage that it literally burst. Suddenly pitch darkness engulfed the waters. At that same moment she underwent a transformation, growing scales, becoming misshapen, and stretching until she turned into a fierce Dragon.

When Anchin looked back and, this time, saw her in the altered state of a monstrous Dragon effortlessly gliding through the foamy tumultuous waters, his heart skipped a beat. Fortunately the boat had just reached the other shore. Bypassing the boatman who was trying to moor his craft, he simply jumped onto the shore. His feet firmly planted on the ground, he raced towards the temple called Dōjō-ji. His heart still in his mouth, sweating profusely and panting heavily, he begged the priests of Dōjōji for their cooperation and help in escaping this monster, the terrible evil spirit scourge that had taken on the form of a Dragon. They believed in Anchin and quickly lowered the bell of the temple to hide him under it.

The Dragon at first hesitated to enter the temple. But then her icy breath blew open the enormous doors in a miasmic cloud of fog, dust and debris and she manifested inside.

“Where is he?” She roared. But no one was there to answer her as all the priests had taken flight and hid. Her fiery breath could have razed the temple to the ground but she still retained some benevolence and instead forcefully restrained her wrath.

She looked about her for a time, and then her keen sense picked up the frightened odor of Anchin quaking terribly, though well hidden, inside the giant bell.

Seething, the Dragon sliced through the air right across the room and coiled her enormous tail around the bell. She thrashed the bell loudly for several times. Anchin was nearly driven insane with all the noise and vibration. However he was trapped and deep down he knew he would pay for his sin. So he started to pray quietly for absolution.

Too late!

For just then the Dragon having tired of this fruitless torment, gave a gigantic belch of fire that engulfed and quickly melted the bell with Anchin inside.

The End.

Exchanging Discourse for Lodging

Exchanging Discourse for Lodging

Monks, especially wandering monks, do not carry cash on their person; therefore a custom was developed for the provision of adequate lodging. The traveler was required to undertake and win a debate about Buddhism with the inhabitants of the temple. In the event of a rare defeat he will have to move on. For this reason most temples only made a token attempt at winning the debate thus preserving the custom.

It so happens that in a temple at the far reaches of the country there dwelt two brother monks, passing the days in perfect harmony. This despite the fact they were vastly different in temperament and intelligence. The elder one was quite learned and wise, while the slow-witted younger one was unpredictable, moody and had only one good eye.

At dusk on a tempestuous day, when the sky was riddled with ominous clouds that threatened downpours any minute, a wandering monk knocked at the gate, seeking refuge for the night. A novice showing him to a room carried his proper challenge to a debate about the sublime teachings back to the brother monks.

The elder brother was much fatigued from diligent study of the scriptures and his heavy chores on that day, so he asked his younger brother to take his place this once. On the point of exiting the room however, not entirely trusting in other’s abilities, he cautioned, “Request the silent discourse.”

Nodding, the young monk left. Meeting the traveler at the shrine later, he sat down and started the silent dialogue.

Sometime later the traveler rose with resignation and sought the older monk to offer his farewells. “Your younger brother is a truly wonderful fellow. He defeated me proper.”

The weather outside had gotten worse as the torrential rains, driven by high winds, shook the walls of the temple. The elder brother was sorry to see him go but was at the same time amazed at the unexpected outcome. He quietly said.

“Can you relay the dialogue to me?”

“Well,” explained the travelling monk, “first I held up one finger, representing Buddha, the enlightened one. Your younger brother held up two fingers together, signifying Buddha and his teaching. I held up three fingers, representing Buddha, his teaching, and his followers, living the harmonious life. He’s truly brilliant; your brother is, for he then shook his clenched fist in my face, indicating that all three come from one realization. Thus he won the debate fair and square and so I now take my leave.” With this, the traveler reluctantly rose and left the premises.

“There is more to this than meets the eye.” The elder monk mused when, just then, his younger brother burst into the room.

“Now where is that fellow!” He asked irately.

“Calm yourself brother,” The elder indicated the seat across, “I understand you won the debate fair and square.”

“Won nothing!” The other huffed, “As soon as I catch him, I am going to give him a sound thrashing!”

“Is that any way to be?” The elder chastised him gently, sporting a bemused smile. “Come now, take a long breath, sit down and calmly tell me what was said.”

After a brief hesitation the younger brother did as he was bid. “Why, the second he saw me he held up one finger, insinuating that I have only one eye. As if I needed to be told. Since he was a stranger, wanting to be polite, I overlooked this and held up two of my fingers, congratulating him that he has two eyes. But the ill-mannered wretch held up three fingers, suggesting that between us we have three eyes. Would you believe it! I was so enraged that I held up my fist, in readiness to punch him, but the lout ran out and that ended it!”

Fini

Legend of the White Snake

Legend of the White Snake

(Retelling of an old legend)

Legend of the White Snake Part 1

A long time ago in the middle of a lake there was a white snake spirit who diligently practiced Taoist magical arts in the hope of becoming an immortal. Chancing on immortality pills that had been regurgitated by the boy Xu Xian, the white snake at once swallowed them and was instantly transformed and gained 500 years worth of magical powers. As an Immortal, the white snake found she could quite easily assume human form.

In the same lake meanwhile there had been a tortoise spirit who had also aspired to immortality. Having failed to consume any of the discarded pills, from that day hence he harbored a deep seated resentment for the white snake, blaming her for all his subsequent tribulations.

One day on the bridge the white snake observed a beggar who had just caught a green snake and was about to slice out its gallbladder to sell it. The poor green snake was crying and pleading for mercy to the deaf ears of the human. Filled with sympathy, the white snake at once transformed into a woman and, walking across the bridge, accosted the beggar. After an exchange of polite words she offered to buy the green snake alive, saving the green snake from being sliced alive. The grateful green snake from then on adopted the white snake as her elder sister.

Some 18 years later during the Qingming Festival the white snake and her green snake sister, very much intrigued by humans’ endeavors and yearning to experience humans’ joys, transformed themselves into two young ladies. Flying on clouds, they reached Hangzhou in no time at all and discreetly blended in with the crowd to enjoy the festivities. The White and Green snakes were so enthralled by the beauty of the surroundings that they quickly forgot themselves, throwing all caution aside. 
Now West Lake lies beside the city of Hangzhou and, bordered by lush green hills, has always been renowned for its breathtaking scenery drawing many scholars or noted visitors who loved to stroll its banks or take boats across the water.

As luck would have it, there at the Broken Bridge, these two ladies chanced on Xu Xian. 
When the capricious sun took refuge behind some clouds and rain fell, the two ladies had sought shelter under the willow tree without much success. Xu, by then a handsome and gallant young scholar, saw the ladies in dire straits and offered them his umbrella at once. As Lady White insisted on Xu sharing the umbrella with them the two, during their conversation, had quietly fallen in love. In this way Destiny had played a hand to draw these two lovers together.

Meanwhile Lady White had learned that the scholar was simply returning from a visit to his mother’s grave. He had been orphaned when young and presently lived with his sister and her husband, earning a scant living as an assistant in their herbal medicine shop.

To make the long story short, Lady White (or Bai Suzhen as she’d introduced herself to the scholar), throwing all caution to the wind, married the scholar Xu Xian. The happy couple then moved to Zhenjiang and there, with the sizable funds from her supposed inheritance, opened a medicine shop of their own. Utilizing her extensive knowledge of various herbal medicines they were able to successfully cure many ailments, and before long the business prospered. Lady White especially was much beloved because of her dedication to helping the sick, no matter how poor they were.

End of Part 1

Legend of the White Snake Part 2

Oh, but oh so fickle is fate; for the terrapin spirit that once dwelled in the same lake as Bai Suzhen had, by this time, accumulated enough powers to take on a human form and had transformed into a Buddhist monk called Fahai who, without much success, also dabbled in the healing arts. He learned about the brilliance of Bai Suzhen and, to his chagrin, discovered that she is his old nemesis Lady White. He was further consumed by jealousy when he found out about her blissful existence and from then on plotted to break up her relationship with Xu Xian. He visited their shop and, finding an opportunity, discretely approached Xu Xian when Bai Suzhen, by then an expectant mother, went off for a brief respite leaving her husband to tend to customers.

“I’m Fahai, the Abbot of Gold Mountain Temple,” the disguised turtle introduced himself to Xu in a conspiratorial whisper. “I have come here, under this pretext, to warn you of the great peril you are in. Through my spiritual guide, I have discovered that your wife is in fact, a thousand-year-old snake. Heed my words young man, for now she hides well her true nature, but one day she will surely turn on you, as all demons do, and devour you!”

“How dare you say such a thing?” protested Xu. “My wife is an angel, what you say is nothing short of a wicked slander!”

“Fine, fine; don’t take my word for it.” Fa shaking an index finger, sternly admonished Xu. He next pretended to storm out the door but, as if on a second thought, he halted and, half turning, said, “Before long the Duanwu Festival will be here. Offer her realgar wine, if she does not revert back to her true form, then I, in advance, offer my apologies.”

At the Duanwu festival, according to an old custom, everyone would liberally partake of wine mixed with foul-smelling realgar to supposedly to drive away snakes or evil spirits.

To escape disclosure and wary of the possible dangers, Lady White had feigned illness during the Duanwi Festival. She insisted on keeping to her bed but encouraged her husband to go out and partake of the festivities, while Xiaoqing (Green Snake) tended to her needs. That might have been the end of that but unfortunately, however, the devoted Xu refused to leave her side and, desiring her to be especially safe, he further insisted that she drink some measure of the realgar concoction. When she adamantly refused and offered only feeble excuses Fahai’s dire warnings rushed to Xu’s mind. His demeanor darkened but then just as quickly he dismissed it all with a wave of his hand. When his wife inquired as to the reason for his odd behaviour, Xu simply shrugged and related the warning words of Fahai, thinking it to be nothing other than a poor joke.

But Bai could not conceal her terror and her face grew visibly pallid. The wave of suspicion that grazed his eyes, though briefly, wrenched Bai’s heart. Hoping that her accrued powers were strong enough to withstand the danger she dismissed Xiaoping and requested a cup of reagal wine from her husband. Receiving it, she quickly downed it. As further reassurance she pretended to like it and asked for more, but before she could finish the third, she began to retch violently. She was helped to her bed by her most concerned and apologetic husband who then rushed out the door to fetch her some medicine. When he returned, he found, instead of his wife, a giant white snake coiled on the bed. The shock was too great for Xu Xian to bear and he instantly collapsed dead onto the floor.

End of Part 2

Legend of the White Snake Part 3

Later, when Bai reverted back to human form, Xiaoping told her the result of Bai’s reckless act; how she had discovered Xu’s corpse. Grief-stricken, Bai knelt by her husband and wept and wept.

Eventually setting aside her grief, Bai Suzhen (Lady White) and Xiaoqing (Green Snake) traveled to Mount Emei, where they braved countless dangers to steal a magical herb. Ingesting the drink made from this magic mushroom, Xu Xian was swiftly restored back to life. But though he’d fully recovered a strange alienation dogged their marriage. Inwardly terrified that his wife was not human, and being ignorant of her heroic efforts to save his life, Xu from then on shunned any intimacy with Bai.

Desperate to regain his affections, Bai one day played a rather ingenious ruse on her husband. Her white silk sash was turned to a living snake and, with this as a plausible explanation; Xu was led to believe that the scarf was what had frightened him. Subsequently, their marital bliss returned until Xu decided to visit Gold Mountain Temple to express his gratitude to Buddha for their present happiness.

On his way Xu encountered Fahai along the banks of the river. Latter still adamant about his dire warnings, Fahai again planted the seed of suspicion in Xu’s heart, hinting that his wife was not above playing dirty tricks on him. Terrified, Xu was then given a possible solution to his dilemma: “Become a monk and live at the temple; that’s one place the demon that is your wife, won’t be able to reach you.”

At first Xu Xian had remained reticent, as he’d been torn between the love he felt for his wife and the fear of her. Subsequently, with his head and his heart still at war; his ambivalence seemingly eternal, he decided to defer any decision till later and, on the urging of Fahai, boarded the raft. Together they crossed over to the river island where the Gold Mountain temple was built. Once inside however Xu found himself virtually imprisoned.

“This is for your own good. You should be thanking me for saving your life,” Insisted Fahai as he turned the key to Xu’s cell door.

Three days passed and Xu had not returned. By then Bai was worried and anticipating the grievous outcome, she shared her intentions with her sister Xiaoqing. On the following day they both armed themselves with swords and set off on the rescue mission. Unfortunately Fahai had predicted this move and awaited them at the temple gate with sizeable force.

At first, Bai tried diplomacy, but no amount of pleading or threats would persuade Fahai to release Xu.

“Vile Demon!” Fahai, grinding his teeth, bellowed. “You cannot feast on this human. It is my solemn duty to protect unsuspecting humans from one such as you!”

“I have harmed no one and helped many,” protested Lady White. “Surely the demon is he who divides man and wife!”

“Save your breath sister, he won’t listen to any reason!” Xiaoqinq interceded. “Force is our only recourse; nothing short of violence will get through that thick skull of his!”

Constrained by circumstances, the lovely and courageous Bai Suzhen and Xiaoqing fought a fierce battle with Fahai and his group for many a day. Despondent, Bai used her powers to flood the temple, with dire consequences, as many innocents drowned.

Yet Bai Suzhen’s pregnancy had impaired her powers. In the end she was forced to admit defeat and forced to flee to safety and fight another day.

From within the temple cell meanwhile, Xu had heard all that seemingly endless commotion of the battle. Upon discovering that it was his wife’s attempt at his rescue he became adamant to at least to stand by her. Using his wits he eventually succeeded in escaping from Jinshan Temple and, at long last finding her, both disclosed the truth in a lengthy, breathless, talk.

“I now understand how you’ve suffered for my sake.” Xu hugged his wife in the end. “Human or not, I shall love you for all eternity. “

The reunited lovers then move to Hangzhou, where Bai Suzhen gave birth to a son, Xu Mengjiao. Once more their happiness would have been boundless had it not been for their adamant foe Fahai who, unfortunately, again hunted them down and, after defeating Bai Suzhen, imprisoned her permanently in Leifeng Pagoda.

Fahai’s last words to her were, “At a painstaking cost, you have been finally been subdued, Demon! Now you can harm no one. Contemplate your many sins, for not until the lake dries up and the pagoda falls can you come out again!”

Her stoic response was, “Though you call yourself a monk; you are as rigid as the unyielding rock. You have condemned me without cause and caused me grievous pain, unjustly so. But know this, though you tear me from my infant son and from my husband’s arms, you cannot stop our love.”

Do not fret however; there was a happy ending after all.

20 years later, Xu Mengjiao topped the imperial examination and returned home in glory. At the same time, Xiaoqing, who’d escaped when Bai Suzhen was captured by Fahai, went to Jinshan Temple to confront Fahai and succeeded in defeating him. Bai Suzhen was freed from Leifeng Pagoda and reunited with her husband and son, while Fahai fled, hiding inside the stomach of a crab.

The End

Six Pairs of Earrings

Six Pairs of Earrings

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Once upon a time in far off lands there was a stringent and powerful king that ruled his vast kingdom with an iron hand.

The beautiful queen, in contrast, was compassionate and generous. As the king loved her very dearly her influence often softened his stance on state matters and military affairs and spared many from certain hardship and calamity.

Unfortunately, as her influence grew, so did the number of her enemies who stood to gain from wars and the, now suppressed, oppressive measures.

Mysteriously, the beautiful queen one day fell ill and died soon after. The king reverted back to his warring ways and caused many innocent folk to suffer once again.

A few upright ministers got together at long last and managed to persuade the king to remarry. Their hope was that he would be more reasonable if he had tender love in his heart once more.

But who should it be? The king had left the decision up in the air, to be discussed later.

A wise minister, a close friend visiting the Prime Minister Coen at this time put forth the suggestion that he would be rendering a useful service to the realm if he could recommend a suitable mate to the monarch.

The prime minister, after a prolonged silence, nodded and exclaimed. “Of course you are right sir. To tell you the truth, I had long held the same view. Only one difficulty made me hesitant in approaching his Highness with a suggestion. As you well know, our Sovereign has six concubines who are all very close to his Highness.

“The difficulty is in determining which of them the king’s favorite is. If my recommendation differs from his Highness’s choice I would certainly offend the new queen, with dire consequences for me later on.”

The wise minister nodded his understanding. “There is a way out of this dilemma,” he finally added. “The Summer’s End Gala will be upon us in a couple of days.”

If you wish to discover the king’s favorite present his Highness with six pairs of earrings depicting a lovely orchid. Five pairs should be identical in quality and style, but the sixth pair should be of discernibly higher quality.

“When you learn which of the six concubines receive the best earrings, you will understand the king’s thinking on the subject.”

Prime Minister Coen was pleased and took his friend’s advice. When the king chose his new queen, she was the same concubine whom he had recommended. Peace reigned ever afterwards in the Kingdom



The End

True Value (The Gift)

True Value (The Gift)

(Original Story)

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All of us at one time or other have come upon these wise words: “Don’t judge a book by its cover. “ Yet in our fast paced society, we often rush headlong into things, make erroneous judgements, form ill conceived opinions and then follow the wayward paths that lead us astray. We would fare far better if cool heads prevailed. Be open- minded, don’t rely so heavily on the first impressions and remember: a second opinion would help to determine the truth.

Once upon a time there was a wise young geologist named Leon who chanced upon a very rare find during excavation in high altitudes. The item was half buried in the riverbank alongside a rushing turbulent stream. To the untrained eye, the object resembled a huge chunk of ice with a slightly pinkish hue, only it was solid as a rock. But Leon having at once recognized its true value carefully stored it away until he could acquire a very elaborate box to contain it. This lacquer box had gold inlaid images depicting a court lady on her leisure time. Coral, pearl and other gems were carefully inlaid on the sides and back of the box so it looked brilliant every which way you turned it. Inside it was lined with the finest plush, soft velvet.

At the end of his carefree adventurous days, having grown rather opulent, Leon decided to settle down and remarry in order to provide his precious young boy Kori with a more stable home. A pretty young widow with a single child of her own appeared to be the most suitable candidate and so before long they were married in an elaborate ceremony. Unfortunately her true nature soon revealed itself and he discovered their underlying incompatibility. Struggling with his inner dissatisfaction over the years Leon suffered some setbacks and fell on hard times. At the urging of his second wife he parted with most of his precious possession in order to keep up with her and her daughter’s extravagant demands but always resisted the idea of selling his rare find.

Once on a quiet day alone in his study with his son, who also shared his interest in reading, Leon had allowed Kori to handle the pinkish stone. “You like it too, don’t you son?” He’d asked with bemused smile on his lips as he reached to retrieve the stone.

“Yes, papa, I do, it’s such an interesting rock. Tell me again how you found it.” In truth Kori loved the story more than the rock itself and never got tired of hearing it. His father equally enthused, always obliged him with such colorful elaboration. This day at the end of his narration however, his father looked grim and said, “I ‘m sorry you had to suffer such unwarranted hardships on my account but I could not bring myself to part with it. “ He looked up earnestly then and said the strangest thing. “Actually, I’ve been saving it for you. “ With a shrug he then arose and, after carefully placing it into that beautiful box again, walked over and promptly placed it in the safe concealed behind an obscure painting hanging above his desk.

When some years later Leon fell mysteriously ill and died intestate his holdings and the affairs of the entire estate were bestowed upon his wife. She lost no time in selling the property, the land and everything of value, including the precious box that, by the way, fetched a pretty handsome price. But as for the lump of stone inside, before selling the box, she’d simply taken it out and on the verge of throwing it away, after a second thought, thrust it into the palm of her stepson and said, “Now, don’t go complaining that I haven’t given you anything from your dad.”

The boy remembered well what his father had said that day long ago, though he’d never shared this with anyone. And so he graciously accepted this paltry gift from his stepmother and happily tucked it away in his pocket.

Predictably, she’d next sought to rid herself of the burden of Kori, and sent this poor orphan packing to a distant paternal relative. The boy grew up there modestly and without incident, till one day, when he was handling this rock in the classroom, it drew the attention of his Geography teacher.

The rest as they say is history. The piece of rock proved to be an uncut, priceless pink diamond that fetched a fortune at auction, affording the poor little boy comfort and riches beyond anyone’s imagination.



By Bo and Steve

The Snake in a Goblet

The Snake in a Goblet

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Once upon a time there was a very powerful Governor, honest but severe. Like so many astute officials he frowned on idle chatter; however his position required him to at least keep in touch with the local gentry. Even so he would quite often opt out of the many frivolous social obligations, seeing them as waste of his time. In those infrequent times spent away from his duties he much preferred solitary hunting trips. He only had one vice, if it could be called that, for he liked collecting finely crafted hunting weapons.

Squire Lee, who had an inflated sense of himself so common to that class of opulent gentry, could not accept being shunned by the Governor and so, after some coercion, had obtained a reluctantly proffered invitation to dinner.

Received graciously, he was ushered to a private hall where he was served a modest feast and some choice wine. Having proposed a toast, Lee raised the goblet to his lips and was about to take a sip when his eyes suddenly caught a coloured snake wriggling at the bottom of his cup. As it would have been rude to do otherwise, he restrained his fright and drank anyway. There was no sensation of the snake passing dawn his throat, therefore Lee deemed it to be a supernatural phenomenon, or some form of spell and from that moment on began to feel rather ill.

Seething with anger he returned home and at once called for the family physician. The physician, despite his extensive examination, could find absolutely nothing wrong with Lee. The Squire, nevertheless, still felt seriously ill and took to his bed from then on. Seeing his demise approaching ever nearer, he eventually decided to unburden the source of his grave trouble to his closest friend Ricker. “I’ve been wronged so needlessly. “ He exhaled in a whimper at the end of his fantastic accounts. “After my passing, I beseech you to avenge my death!”

Aggrieved at his friend’s condition, but being a more reasonable person, Ricker extracted a promise from Lee to hang on to life till his return.

After some finagling, Ricker acquired a private invitation from the Governor. He, too, was received graciously and ushered to the same hall. At the conclusion of their discussion of the supposed pressing matter of state, he was asked to stay on for some food and refreshments.

Seated in the same honoured seat as his friend, Ricker raised the goblet of wine to his lips. Lo and behold, he too saw the same vision as his friend at the bottom of the goblet. Hesitating for a second, he took a generous sip, and then discretely looked about him.

Hah, there was the culprit! Suppressing a bursting laugh, Ricker’s eyes remained fixed for a spell on the magnificent bow, hanging from the high ceiling.

The Governor, seeing the object of his attention at once volunteered, “I was most fortunate to have acquired that rare hunting bow from a Chief of the Gugeos tribe. Isn’t it magnificent?”

“Indeed it is. “ Ricker exclaimed, after sipping some more wine. “It looks decidedly deadly, carved with such meticulous detail to imitate a venomous snake.” He kept the rest to himself, deciding to spare his foolish friend any further humiliation.


The End

The Peony Prince

The Peony Prince

(Story by BoSt.)

The Peony Prince Part 1

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Once upon a time at Makonwa, in the Country of Yonar, there was a grand old castle called Wataozi, surrounded by high walls and a deep moat deceptively carpeted with lotus lilies.

In this castle resided the powerful feudal King Kongzuozhi, who was an unbending, stern ruler.

He’d not always been that way; he’d changed drastically after the sudden loss of his only son and heir and the tragic demise of his bellowed wife. Sadly, that had occurred before the eventual cessation of his prolonged wars with the neighboring states.

It was a small consolation that the truce, after years of devastating wars had left thousands dead and the land ravaged, lasted long after the treaty was signed. Upon the demise of his beloved wife, something had died in King Kongzuozhi and from then on, forsaking love, His Highness concentrated only on his administrative duties and an occasional hunt.

Fortunately his beautiful daughter became another, unacknowledged casualty and was pretty much left to grow up on her own.

His chief Councillors, noting that King Kongzuozhi daughter, Princess Juanjing, were now eighteen and at good marriageable age collectively proposed to have her be suitably married.

After careful consideration His Majesty perceived this to be the perfect opportunity to solidify the truce with his most formidable foe, King Akono of Goakan.

It so happened that his arch nemesis had a second son that might be a suitable match and so he coolly consented to have the two royal houses allied through a binding marriage.

A meeting between The Majesties was soon arranged and an agreement reached that satisfied both fathers.

The two betrothed were then, in the company of sizable entourage, briefly allowed to see each other and exchange pleasantries before being summarily whisked away.

The prospective groom Prince Daro could hardly contain his good fortune and returned to his quarters as if in a daze, for Princess Juanjing was the most beautiful girl he’d ever set eyes on. She not only was an enchanting beauty, but also had a lovely poised figure and appeared quite intelligent and sweet.

Ever the dutiful daughter, Princess Juanjing for her part found her intended not entirely objectionable and promised herself to be the most loving and caring wife to her prospective husband. She was also relieved to learn that she and her husband would be living in the same castle she grew up in until the Title passed to their firstborn son upon the death of her father.

The Peony Prince Part 2

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One fine evening, as sleep averted her, Princess Juanjing accompanied by her maids, decided to take a long stroll in the magnificent gardens. She delighted at the cool breeze caressing her cheeks and puffing up her sleeves as she cast her eyes lovingly on the huge blooms of her favorite peonies, planted in stands hither and thither all along the path. She lingered by the pond where some water lilies were also in bloom. Absently she gazed at her reflection on the pond then watched the fireflies dancing in air as she listened to the harmonious croaks of the mating frogs.

“What’s this?” a curious image drew her attention and she bent over to see it more clearly. The slippery ground at the edge of the pond gave way, making her lose her balance and she was in imminent danger of falling into the water.

But just in time a handsome young man appeared and, gently cradled Princess Juanjing in his arms as he pulled her to safety.

He disappeared the moment her feet touched solid ground and she was out of harm’s way. But the pleasant scent of peony lingered about her.

Her maids in attendance on her had seen the slip and, as they rushed to save the Princess, they also noticed a glimmer of light about her as the Princess was returned to the safety of solid ground, but of the handsome young man they saw nothing.

Princess Juanjing’s heart was captivated from that moment on, truly smitten by this most handsome young man with fine features, and bedecked in floral patterned fineries.

He was clad in what she deemed to be a noble warrior’s court attire of the highest order. Clearly he was a Prince. For one thing the intrigue, near invisible pattern on his silk garment was that of a thousand exquisitely embroidered peonies and his sword’s scabbard was encrusted with rare jewels in the same pattern. She longed to see him again, if only, to thank him for saving her from the water.

She could not help but wonder how he’d happened to be there. Moreover, how could he have entered the private gardens without alerting the guards? More puzzling still was the fact that none of her maids had seen him. Could he have been a ghost? …A Fairy perhaps? Regardless, she cautioned all those in attendance to keep this a secret for she feared most of all that word of this would reach her father and cause a stir.

If he was for real, this infringement of security, however innocent, and the resulting trespassing charge, would place his life in direst jeopardy. Harbouring a certain fondness in her heart for him already, she could not bear to see him decapitated.

Unfortunately, during the subsequent days and nights she was kept busy, hardly a moment to spare. Having no mother, she was herself charged with the responsibilities of overseeing certain preparations of her trousseau and the impending nuptials. And so, even though she longed to visit the pond on the slight chance of encountering the young man again, she could never seem to get away. That is not to say she did not think of him every minute, every second of her wakeful moments.

The Peony Prince Part 3

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Her seemingly unending duties and obligations created unmanageable stress and this, coupled with her secret obsession with the mysterious young man, eventually took its toll and the Princess soon fell ill. She could not eat or sleep and her pallor grew ghostly pale. She grew thinner and thinner… The Princess was wasting away regardless of any treatment. The attending physicians were baffled for they could not pinpoint the reason for her progressing ailment.

Naturally the day of Princess Juanjing’s marriage with the young Prince Daro had to be postponed, if not, in the event of her demise, altogether aborted.

The King Akono of Goakan did not take this change of plan too kindly. Deeming it a personal affront, or at best a ruse, the relationships between the two countries became further strained.

King Kongzuozhi, her father, was both infuriated and deeply grieved by this turn of events. He set up a commission to investigate this matter further and to resolve this dreadful predicament. The thorough search finally uncovered certain facts and brought to light the peculiar events of the specific night that was at the start of Princess Juanjing’s personal crisis. Princess’s confident and friend maid, Nieju, was detained, severely and repeatedly interrogated. In the end she broke down and, through her confession, The King was able to uncover the source of his daughter’s infirmity.

King Kongzuozhi’s first reaction was one of extreme fury. He was not a superstitious King, so he expected the source to be an intruder. The guards on duty that night were all rounded up and severely punished. Those on duty in the garden lost their lives. His Majesty’s fury not spent however, he next wanted to have the gardens, specifically the peony beds, that had once been his deceased wife’s personal project, destroyed. The pond would not be spared either, nor would any of the living creatures living in it. His closest advisers braved his wrath to in the end to talk some moderation into King Kongzuozhi and so the decimation was averted in the nick of time.

They insisted that Princess Juanjing was sick and her malady was one of the heart. She had fallen deeply in love, a serious infatuation perhaps with the phantom, by then dubbed “The Peony Prince”, that she’d seen for so brief a span. He could be a fox spirit or other fey. They feared that Princess Juanjing would soon meet her untimely demise if something drastic was not done.

Unfortunately there was no account in the books of legend that matched the description of such a being.

King Kongzuozhi‘s ancestors had exercised domain over these lands for many generations yet the books did not speak of any tragedy or untimely demise of such a warrior Prince in this castle. Clearly this was a matter for the priests, for only they could exorcise this evil spirit that must have snuck into the garden in order to take possession of a pure soul like Princess Juanjing. If nothing was done soon, they warned His Majesty, Princess’s life would be forfeited.

King Kongzuozhi, with some skepticism, reluctantly agreed with this and so the Priests were called in to perform their exorcism at her sleeping quarters, in the garden and around the pond.

Princess Juanjing seemed a bit better after this though she remained downcast and listless in spirit.

The Peony Prince Part 4

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 It was another full moon then and her vigilant attendants seizing this opportunity to enliven her spirit a little obtained the King’s permission to engage the services of Meing Sheju, a celebrated player on the Tazuo, that evening. The weather was particularly hot and in the absence of any breeze, they arranged seating on the gallery to enjoy the performance of musicians as they played “Dannoura”. Suddenly, to the amazement of all, that same handsome Prince manifested from the bed of peonies. He was unmistakably visible to all this time, right down to the elaborate peonies embroidered on his fine garments.

“There he is! There he is! I see him!” Many cried out and pointed, at which time he suddenly vanished. Princess Juanjing, seemed to have regained her zeal, she was up and smiling, with a tint of color gracing her cheeks.

When the word of this reached His Majesty, her father he was infuriated and puzzled at the same time. “I knew those priests are all useless!” He scoffed; but he could not at the same time deny the sudden change that had come over his daughter.

The following night, while Mei played the flute and Sujikoa played the Koto for their mistresses the figure of the Peony Prince manifested again, though briefly. A thorough search of the garden, the peony beds and the pond continued into the subsequent day and produced no results, with not even the shallowest of footprints or even a bent blade of grass.

King Kongzuozhi’s fury knew no bounds. Eventually his ire dissipated and he agreed to engage a renowned mage of great strength and ability, Tao Yonume, to capture the phantom Peony Prince.

It was decided that, since music seemed to hold a special fascination for the apparition, it would be used to trap the phantom warrior Prince. Well before the music began playing, however, Tao Yonume all dressed in black, found a good spot to hide and evoked a spell to conceal his person.

Then he crouched among the peonies and waited. On cue, Meing Sheju and Osono started their concert, while all in attendance pinned their eager gaze on the peony beds. Princess Juanjing was concerned about the welfare of the apparition, but her longing to see him soon overcame her trepidation. As the music played “Sofuren” sure enough there materialized from the peony bed the figure of the Prince dressed splendidly in his fine embroidered garments. The attendants were puzzled as to why Tao Yonume did not jump up at this juncture to capture the apparition.

If the truth be known, Tao Yonume was so entranced by the noble bearing of the phantom Prince that at first he’d remained reluctant to capture him. His sense of duty overcame his hesitation however. He stealthily approached the apparition from behind and seized the Peony Prince round the waist, holding on with all his prodigious strength. After the phantom Prince was in his grasp, still clinging tightly to the apparition, Tao Yonume felt a strange wet vapor falling on his face. This by degrees made him fall in a swoon to the ground. Determined to hang on and still grasping the apparition, Tao Yonume forced himself to remain conscious and shouted, “I caught him… I caught him!”

But when he looked at what was in his grasp he saw only a large peony.

By then everyone had witnessed this struggle and armed guards hastened to the spot to apprehend the culprit. In their trail King Kongzuozhi also ran to the spot where Tao Yonume lay, followed by the Princess Juanjing and her maids.

The metamorphosis of a phantom Prince into a Peony astounded and mystified all except King Kongzuozhi who grumbled: “Ah, it is as I figured. This is no fox fairy or ghost. It is the noble sprit of the peony flower who has taken the form of a Noble warrior.” Then turning to his daughter he said, “I knew the security could not be breached. This is no ordinary apparition.” Tao Yonume nodded in agreement. “By your leave my Liege, may I add that this should be regarded as a high compliment from the Heavens.” King Kongzuozhi after a thoughtful silence concurred. “This is high praise indeed! You must all pay great respect to all the peonies, and show this one caught by Tao Yonume particular respect by taking good care of it.”

The King’s last words were directed at Princess Juanjing who immediately took charge and carried the peony flower back to her room. Her close attendants at once fetched her favorite vase and filled it with fresh water. She carefully placed the peony in the vase and placed it on a table near her bed. As nothing else happened that night, soon all retired to their quarters to get a good night sleep.

The Peony Prince Part 5

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At one point after midnight Princess Juanjing was suddenly woke, having received a gentle kiss on the lips. Rubbing her eyes she sat up and looked about her. All was as it had been when she had dozed off, nothing stirred, yet there was an intoxicating perfume that permeated the air. She smiled looking at the peony in the vase and reached out and gently run her fingers over the petals.

When she reclined and closed her eyes a strange sensation took hold of her. She felt as though her beloved peony spirit was beside her. He held her tight in his caress and showered her face with gentle kisses.

She drifted at once to a deep sleep, to awaken next morning refreshed and full of vigour.

Day by day she got better and better. Soon she was her vigorous, radiant self again. Each day she tended the peony with meticulous care, and though a cut flower, the peony seemed to never wither but instead a perfect bloom grew more brilliant in colour and still more fragrant with her ministrations.

The news of her recovery had of course reached King Akono of Goakan. He sent his emissaries with word, that now Princess Juanjing was well, in keeping with their previous arrangement he expected the wedding to go on.

King Kongzuozhi saw no reason to put off the wedding any further and so picked the time for the ceremony. No one consulted Princess Juanjing’s wishes and she being a dutiful daughter expressed no objection to the already arranged marriage.

Princess Juanjing’s closest friend and confident patiently listened to her reservations and then reasoned with Princess that it was not possible for any human to live with an apparition or fairy forever. Meanwhile Princess Juanjing was reminded that she had her duty to fulfill and certain obligations were expected of her. She could not, and must not, renege on her filial duty to her father and ancestors. Lasting peace was ensured with this arrangement and all would prosper. The prospective groom was handsome in his own right and had other attractive attributes, so how bad could it be?

A month later the King Akono of Goakan and his family with much fanfare and rich gifts for the bride arrived at the Castle. On the appointed date, Prince Daro was married off to Princess Juanjing in an elaborate ceremony and festivities that lasted for weeks.

But a curious thing happened on the wedding night; an occurrence that quickly became a closely guarded secret between Princess Juanjing and her attendants. In preparation for the wedding Princess Juanjing insisted the peony and the vase be removed from her quarters that would henceforth serve as the matrimonial chamber and be placed in the adjoining room. In all the fanfare few had paid attention to the flower after this.

The morning after the marriage was consummated; the peony was found still in its vase, dead and withered. Princess Juanjing shed quiet tears upon seeing this but, of course, Prince Daro was never told. Later that afternoon, when she could get away, she visited the peony garden and, squatting by the side of the pond, unfolded her silk handkerchief, removed the dead peony and gently placed it in the water as she said her silent farewells.

She watched it sink deep under the lily pads until it was hidden from view. Then, wiping her tears, she turned to begin the new chapter in her life.



The End

The Discontented Baby Turtle

The Discontented Baby Turtle

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It is in the nature of all creatures to boast and to outshine the other. It is the enigmatic engine of truth and knowledge mired in contention and competition that inevitably robs all living beings of a peaceful heart. So they hurdle at top speed towards that unwarranted need for a profusion of worldly goods. More is preferable, more is better, more is best, or is it?

Once upon a time there was a nice turtle family living happily in a modest pond inside a greenhouse. Their other turtle neighbours and the fish coexisted with them in perfect harmony sharing the bounty of the pond, never lacking for food, always sheltered from the harsh elements and happy to have all the space they needed to swim freely or wander about. During the summer months the diligent groundskeepers, for variety sake would transfer some of these inhabitants to the outside pond. On such a happy excursion, the baby turtle found himself in the outside pond. With the eagerness of youth he spent many a good day exploring his new surroundings. He loved every new experience, every new blade of grass, every lotus flower, rock and so forth. When it rained the droplets and the rushing wind delighted the baby turtle’s senses. Then there were the other interesting creatures of the air who captivated his imagination; some were small but others were incredibly huge.

With a contented air the baby turtle was sunning on his favourite rock one day, when quite absently he heaved a sigh and exclaimed, “Can things be any better than this? I have everything I need right here. This pond is the biggest and best place ever!”

“It’s adequate, yes, but certainly not the best or the biggest.” The nearby seagull wryly grunted, startling the baby turtle.

“What you mean?” The baby turtle demanded an explanation, quickly overcoming his surprise.

The seagull could not miss this chance to amaze this little thing and boast of the places he’d seen and the existence of a vast lake not too far away. “The lake is so expansive that you cannot fly over it from one end to the next. It’s limitless. It is so deep that no amount of drought affects the levels very much or ever can drain it.”

By the time he was through listing the scope and grandeur of the vast open waters he had invoked in the baby turtle such curiosity and yearning that all joy and contentment had left the poor little thing. No longer was this baby turtle happy, imagining far better places he could never be.

Long after the seagull was gone the baby turtle was still unhappy and for days on end just moped about. His parents were greatly concerned about his well being and eventually, after much prying, learned the source of his troubles. They were wise enough not to scold him for his naiveté, ingratitude or greed. Instead, his father had simply shaken his head, and then said, “To be upset over what you don’t have is to waste what you do have.”

The little turtle nodded, and went back to the happy way he was.

The End

The Puddle

The Puddle

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Once upon a time two young monks were happily travelling along an old country road. The sky that had been laden with dark ominous clouds most part of the day, however, soon gave way to torrential rain. They trudged along now with some difficulty as the earthen pathways instantly transformed into rushing rivulets. They had just veered around a corner when they came upon a pretty young girl in dire straits. Sporting an umbrella and dressed in her Sunday best, she appeared stymied by a particularly large puddle which the downpour had created directly in her path.

“Let me help you, “said one of the monks and, not waiting for her response, he lifted her in his arms, carried her over the puddle and let her gently down safely on the other side.

The monk’s companion said nothing, remaining unusually silent the rest of the way. That night as they prepared to sleep, unable to constrain himself, he grumbled in displeasure. “You should give extra prayers for absolution tonight, as you have so heedlessly flaunted our teachings and manhandled that rather pretty thing.”

“I left the girl there” his friend replied, plainly surprised. “Why is it that you are still carrying her?”

Fini