The Haunted Pavilion

The Haunted Pavilion

(An old Chinese tale retold)

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The Haunted Pavilion Part 1

A long time ago it was a norm for scholars, ‘wandering with sword and lute’ as it was known then, to travel the countryside, seeking knowledge from ancient sites and attaining wisdom from men of learning.

It so happens, one such scholar was trekking along a road south of Anyang, en-route to the city. He’d arrived late at a village some twelve miles short of Anyang, and as night was closing in fast, he asked an old woman if there was an inn nearby.

Her response was that the nearest inn was some miles distant.

“That would not do.” The scholar hummed. “Oh well, I may as well stay the night at that pavilion I’ve just passed.”

Such pavilions were common in China at that time, used as resting places for weary travelers, and looked after by neighboring villagers. But hearing this old woman paled and at once barring his way, she cautioned, “You must not do that! The place is haunted by evil spirits and demons! No one who had stayed there had ever lived to tell the tale.”

The young scholar however dismissed her dire warnings with wave of a hand and smiling said that he was quite adept at taking care of himself. No amount of protestation from the gathered villagers would deter him and he set off for the pavilion.

When pitch darkness blanketed the earth, far from going to sleep, the scholar instead, lit a small lamp and, retrieving his book, began reading the passages out loud. Time passed and, for a long while, nothing stirred until, on the stroke of midnight, the scholar heard loud footsteps on the road outside. Peering out of the door he saw a man dressed in black. The man stopped and called for the master of the pavilion.

“Here I am,” ejected a petulant voice from just behind the scholar, startling him so that he jumped in surprise. He turned but there was no one there.

“What do you want?” The huffy voice, emerging from thin air, asked.

“Who is in the pavilion?’ the man in black demanded.

“A Scholar is in the pavilion, but he is reading his book and not yet asleep,” the voice replied.

At this the man in black sighed, and turned his steps towards the village.

The scholar shook his head and, with a slight grimace on his lips, he settled back on his makeshift bed and resumed his reading. Some while later he was again interrupted by loud footsteps and this time, as he peered out of the door, he saw a man in a red hat halting on the road outside the pavilion.

“Master of the Pavilion!” the man bellowed.

“Here I am,” again the grumbling voice came from just behind Scholar.

“Who is in the pavilion?” the man in the red hat with a fiery voice demanded.

“A scholar is in the pavilion, but he is reading his book and not yet asleep,” the voice responded.

At this the man in the red hat sighed too and turned towards the village.

“It looks like I’m not going to get any peace tonight.” The scholar put aside his book and waited for a few minutes until he was sure there was no one else coming down the road. After a time he crept out of the door and, standing on the road, called out, “Master of the Pavilion!”

”Here I am,” came the same response from within.

“Who is in the pavilion?” the scholar asked.

“A scholar is in the pavilion but he is reading his book and not yet asleep,” the voice responded.

The scholar sighed and then asked, “Who was the man in black?’

“That was the black swine of the North,” the voice answered.

“And who was the man in the red hat?”

“That was the Red Cock of the West.”

“And who are you?” the scholar then demanded.

“I am the Old Scorpion,” was the reply. At this the scholar quietly snickered then slipped back into the pavilion. He did not sleep however; instead, he stayed awake the rest of the night reading his book, undisturbed.

The Haunted Pavilion Part Two

The next morning the villagers who’d rushed to the pavilion to see if the scholar had survived the night were aghast to see him seated on the veranda with a calm composure and strumming his lute. As they gathered around him bombarding him with questions the scholar held up his hand for silence.

“Patience, soon all will be revealed.” He smiled and then rising, added, “Follow me; I shall venture to remove the curse from this building.” He quickly went back inside the pavilion with many of the villagers trailing him. He fetched his sword, unsheathed it then, turning, signaled for them to stay back. Advancing swiftly he pulled aside a rotting screen in the corner of the room. Many gasped as they witnessed a gigantic black scorpion behind it, poised to strike. With one sweep of his sword, the scholar split the creature from head to tail; the two parts collapsed lifeless to the floor. There was a hissing sound, then black coils of smoke rising from the ashes, it all simply evaporated into thin air.

Not in the least bit perturbed he next asked the villagers where they had kept a black pig.

“In the house north of the pavilion,’ those finding their voice answered, and then showed him the place.

Indeed, exactly where they had directed the scholar, he soon discovered a huge black pig. He looked up, its eyes glinting with demonic fury. Being daylight however, the possessed beast’s powers were greatly diminished. Before it could strike the scholar wielded his sword and struck a deadly blow dropping the pig stone dead at his feet.

“Now where do you keep a large red rooster?’ facing the quivering crowd, he asked.

“In a shed to the west of the pavilion,” some brave souls answered and pointed at the direction of the place.

Sure enough there was an enormous red cockerel there, with a huge red comb, and long, sharp talons. Once more, with another swift strike of the blade, the scholar decapitated the demon disguised as the bird. He too lay dead at scholar’s feet.

Later, at a feast given in honor of the hero, the scholar graciously explained to the bewildered villagers how he had discovered the identities of the demons.

And so from that day on, with the demons vanquished, no harm ever came to anyone wanting respite at the pavilion south of Anyang.

The End

Newly Elected Official

Newly Elected Official

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An official on taking up his new post, asked his predecessor: “For efficiency sake, how should I proceed?”

The retiring official sporting a big smile, begrudgingly replied: “In your first year in office, act honestly and with decorum. Act in a semi-upright way and somewhat cautiously during the second and third year. Then you can muddle along in the fourth and final year.”


The elected official heaved a deep sigh and shook his head. “How can I hold out until the fourth year?”

Fini

Forming a Government

Forming a Government

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Once upon a time in a land far, far away, there lived a very famous election pundit who was reported to have almost psychic abilities and could accurately predict the future. So renowned was his ability that reporters from the farthest reaches of the country came to seek him out for his counsel.

It so happened that a minority government in this fairly opulent country had caused several elections in a very short span of time. Now on the heels of yet another non- confidence vote, an election was being held. The incumbent was fearful of minority government and fearful still of a coalition that would force another election. Among the countless politicians vying for the coveted position the three frontrunners found themselves to be campaigning in the pundit’s riding and decided to seek out his wisdom. They scheduled separate appointments and at the appropriate time secretly called upon him to enquire which among them would be the successful candidate. They were surprised to see each other there at the same time. After exchanging wide- eyed glances the trio was met by an assistant and swiftly ushered into a musty, dimly lit room where a heavily carpeted floors, ancient tapestries and antique furniture along with wall-to-wall bookcases immediately intimidated any visitor.

The aged wise man seated by the cosy fire signalled for the trio to come forward and be seated before him.

The boldest one bowing his head slightly put the question forward in a respectful tone.

After a momentary pause he closed his eyes and silently pointed an index finger at the trio. The frontrunners were baffled by this gesture and exchanged quizzical looks. Then one of them, professing his ignorance, politely requested an explanation.

The pundit rose up in anger, “The will of the people cannot be any plainer.” He then exited the room in a huff.

Shaking their heads and somewhat miffed, the trio quietly left the premises.

That evening the assistant, no longer able to hold his query, asked, “Sir, which of the three will be the successful candidate?”

The pundit answered quietly: “The exact number is already known.”

“Does a single finger mean that only one of them will form the government?”

“Yes”

“But what if two of them are successful?”

“Then it means one of the three will fail.”

“And can all three of them be successful?”

“A single finger implies that all will succeed at one time or other.”

“And what if all of them fail to form a government?”

“My single finger means that not even one of them will be successful.”

The assistant quickly saw the point and said, “So this is Democratic Will!”


The End

Two Tigers Fighting

Two Tigers Fighting

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Once upon a time there were two powerful nations at war.

As each were equal in might the fierce, continuous engagement had lasted for over two years wasting away manpower, arms and draining the treasury with neither of them gaining an advantage.

The long drawn out war presented certain advantages to an adjoining kingdom. The Sovereign of this neighboring country was considering intervention to bolster his country’s prestige and might. He called a war counsel and asked his ministers for their opinion. The ministers were divided; some claimed this was an opportunity that should not be missed, others claimed it would only draw their country into this never ending conflict and the losses would far outweigh any advantages. Only one junior minister, Roltan, had remained quiet on the subject. After several hours of discussion the King, left with a serious quandary, dismissed the entire counsel, save for Roltan.

"You have abstained from voicing your opinion, any reason for that?" The King addressed Roltan when the chamber had emptied.

"Your Majesty is most discerning," Roltan begun with certain eloquence. "Your Highness, if I may be so bold as to relate a short story about what had happened to me once. When I was in my teens, to test my mettle, I undertook the task of hunting a pair of Tigers that were terrorizing a village."

"To lure the tigers to a trap, I first tied an ox to the trunk of an ancient tree in a clearing just outside of the village perimeter. When the tigers, as expected, descended upon the captive prey, I readied myself to strike. Fortunately I had with me a seasoned hunter, who quickly advised me to hold still. " Roltan exhaled thoughtfully.

"Wait,"  he said.  "If you confront them now they will both attack you in unison. The beasts are just beginning to devour the ox. When they are halfway through, finding the meat rather savory, they will fall into strife as they contend for the choicest parts. After the fray the smaller one will be bested while the big one will suffer injury. Then you will easily finish them both and win certain fame for killing two tigers at once."

Roltan paused, collecting his words before he again spoke. "Never before has our Kingdom been in a more advantageous position to reach its true potential."

The king eyed this young recruit with an appraising smile. It was in fact his secret ambition to ultimately subjugate these other kingdoms under one rule; his rule.

The End

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

Fortune and Loss

Fortune and Loss

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Long, long ago, in a somewhat inconsequential province, an honorable man Donato, finally recognized for his brilliance, gained a very illustrious post. From that day on, his guests swarmed to his residence. But when he was dismissed from office on a false charge his residence grew so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Only one had remained consistent in his friendship. This unassuming young man called Yorick, who was not particularly well off, still called on Donato and did his best to lift the other’s spirits.

After terrible months of hardship the real culprit was caught, Donato was exonerated and reinstated to his former prominence. His so called absentee friends wanted to call on Donato again.

He at once wrote some in bold letters on a placard and had it posted at the gate of his residence. The words clearly stated:

“The best time to determine the mettle of your friends is not when you are exalted but when you are humiliated.

“The best occasion to gauge the genuine sincerity of others’ attitudes is the moment you fall from grace and become pathetic.

“The best moment to uncover those who are earnest and true-hearted would be when one is deceased or, happily, when one escapes death.

“Welcome all who are as true of heart as Yorick.”



The End