THE DRAGON'S PEARL (REVISED)

 THE DRAGON'S PEARL 

 

Once upon a time in Shu province a widowed woman and her only son lived in a thatched hut by the banks of the Min River. Now they were very poor and since the mother was old and ailing the young boy from an early age was burdened with the responsibility of providing for them both. As he loved his mother very much, he worked very hard from dawn to dusk trying his best to obtain a reasonable livelihood by cutting and selling grass. Many a night he stayed awake worrying that this may not be enough to sustain them; should an unforeseen calamity strike, it would surely mean certain ruin.

Then came a time when his worse fears were realized. That summer a severe drought depleted their already scant reserves, and he was forced to venture farther inland each morning in search of better grass. Even this expanded effort had proved fruitless as what he harvested was not even worth taking to market. Unrelenting, he ventured ever higher into the mountain, following paths never before trod by human feet. Once more he’d scavenged most of the morning and afternoon and being disappointed, with stooped shoulders he resolved to head home when suddenly, over a small rise, he spotted a meadow of verdant grass. In disbelief he rubbed his eyes and looked on anew. It still was there. With bated breath he ran towards it. True enough, the thick luxuriant grass, flourishing on a fertile earth was ripe for the picking. Halting for a spell he breathed in the fragrance of this lush green treasure. Oh, how gently they swayed, combed by the gentle breeze.

“What am I waiting for?” He quickly put an end to his daydream and a moment later began cutting and bundling the grass. He worked well into the afternoon, and it was only when the rays of the sun began to dim that he reluctantly shouldered his heavy burden and made his journey home. Not before making a mental note of the topography of the exact location however, so as to claim the remainder on the morrow.

 In the drought stricken land the proceeds from the sale of the lush grass were far more than the weekly pay and that evening mother and son were able to indulge for the first time ever in a more bountiful feast that included fish, poultry and varied vegetables alongside a superior brand of rice.

 The subsequent day the boy retraced his steps joyfully expecting to find the remainder of the patch. However, to his great amazement, the meadow was once more fully overgrown with verdant grass. He did not stop to wonder why but set to work at once with boundless energy and enthusiasm and this time harvested the entire field. As he loaded up the last of his bundle and headed home, he consoled himself by resolving to scour the area more carefully on next occasion. There had to be a comparable field waiting to be found somewhere adjacent to this one.

 You can imagine his delight the next day in finding the same patch re-grown so fully and perfectly he could swear it had never been touched at all. “The field is enchanted; there is no need to look elsewhere!”

Once more he set to work, this time fearlessly harvesting all the grass once more and returning home with his heavy burden. This he repeated day after day as their circumstances became more comfortable, then luxuriant and secure. They now lived happily. However, there was only one hitch; the long, arduous, sometimes hazardous, trek had begun to wear the boy down. Consulting with his mother on this matter the alternative suddenly presented itself. If the patch was enchanted it could perhaps deliver the same abundance if it was planted elsewhere, preferably at closer proximity.

 With this in mind, he made the journey the following morning, and instead of harvesting it he dug up each segment of the turf, roots, soil and all and tied them into rolls. Midway through this toil he spotted a most magnificent, luminescent pearl resting in a tangle of root and soil as he rolled up the clod of turf. “Hah, what a pretty find. Mom will like this. ” He stopped long enough to put it in his pocket then continued on with his work, not giving it another thought.

Wrestling this heavier burden down the mountain he replanted it at closer proximity to his home. And it wasn’t until all the patches were laid down next to their cabin that he realized his fatigue and hunger. He quickly got washed up and entered the home to sit at the table already laden with food and satiate his hunger. Stomach quickly filled he leaned back for a reprieve before they cleared the dishes. Then his hand, roaming in his pocket, happened to touch the pearl. Elatedly he presented it at once to his mother. Even with her failing sight she could tell its brilliance and value, especially when it lit up the dim room with a warm glow. Fearing losing it, his mother decided to store it in the unused old rice jar that she kept as a memento from the lean years. It still contained those few grains of rice they had left before their stroke of luck, just enough of them to cover the pearl.

Following day at the crack of dawn the boy jumped out of bed and wolfed down some bread and cheese then, careful not to wake his sleeping mom, dashed outside to begin his harvest. What greeted him however, wrenched his heart. There was no lush grass, just a dried withered bald patch with a few dried brown stalks poking up from the dust. “I’ve ruined everything.” His eyes brimming with tears he turned towards the house to relay this terrible news to his mom. Just then a scream from the house hastened his steps.

“What is it mama?” He shouted the moment he entered the premise.

“Look,” She pointed at the old rice container, “See it for yourself.”

Indeed, the moment he lifted the lid, a miracle that greeted his eyes: the old rice container was full of fresh white, fragrant rice and, on top, the large pearl glowed warmly.

 

Mother and son exchanged a knowing look. Later when the son told his mom of his failure with the patch, it became crystal clear that the pearl was the true source of magic. In order to be absolutely sure however, they now placed the pearl in the money box that contained only few coins, then carefully hid it under the bed.

The following morning, even before breakfasting the son was asked to retrieve it, as it was too heavy and cumbersome for her to fetch. True enough, it did feel heavier. It came as no surprise to both when, after the lid was lifted, the bounty of cash was discovered, the pearl perched on top.

 This being proof positive they knew how to proceed from then on. They used the magic pearl sparingly and wisely, reciprocating the kindness of neighbours that had once aided them in their time of need. Knowing what it is like to be poor their unstinting kindness extended to those others, even strangers that happened to be caught in dire straits. Despite all the goodwill, the mother and son’s apparent improved fortunes, in time drew unwarranted attention, curiosity and some envy from their neighbours in their small village.

The secret could no longer be contained. Through coercion and trickery, the source of their wealth was eventually discovered. The word spread like wildfire and soon after a mob of villagers, some friendly, a few not so friendly, gathered by the house demanding in a loud uproar to see this phantom pearl for themselves. Goaded to prove that the reasons for their recent prosperity did not involve thievery, the boy foolishly fetched the pearl then held it up for all to see. The glow at first mesmerized all the onlookers but, far from being assuaged, the crowd grew restless and resentful.

Why should they be the sole possessors of such a gift from the Heavens? Everyone wanted a turn at possessing it. Each coveted it; and some demanded immediate ownership of the pearl for more righteous, personal reasons. Tempers flared and faces became distorted with loathing, greed and revulsion. The tumult grew increasingly uglier and the situation more volatile.

Fearing the impending assault on himself, on his mother, or the theft of the pearl, the boy impetuously popped the pearl into his mouth to keep it safe. In that pandemonium, however, the boy was shoved to and for and, giving in to reflex, the pearl dropped through his oesophagus. All at once he was overwhelmed with the sensation of being scorched from inside the stomach; an unbearable, searing fire consumed his innards.

“Water! Water!” Screaming, he dashed to the well at the side of the house and, as fast as he could haul the buckets out, consuming the water until the well ran dry. Still burning up, he ran in a frenzy to throw his body down to the bank to the river and began to lap it up. He drank and drank, but nothing could assuage the all-consuming sensation of burning. The stunned villagers watched in horrified amazement as the once mighty river Min was diminished to a trickle, then that too disappeared. As the last drop flowed down the boy’s throat, a huge crack of thunder tore up the sky. The Earth trembled as countless forks of lightning flashed across the sky heralding the eruption of a violent storm and a deluge of rain that threatened to drown them all.

 “Now you’ve done it! Heaven is angered. Flee, flee for your lives!” The shouts scattered most of the crowds. Others, with wobbling legs, fell on their knees and covered their heads and faces in terror. Amidst curses and lamentations, they bewailed their ill fate in wavering voices.

Meanwhile the boy had begun to tremble uncontrollably as he grew and grew. His desperate mother, forgetting her own terror, hung on to his legs with all her strength, but he was beyond help. Horns sprouted on his forehead and his eyes grew wider and larger their red glow emitting tendrils of fire. His skin was also altered gradually but surely into scales. Now at mammoth size, his dismayed mother watched in sad resignation, as her beloved son transformed into a Dragon. Too late she remembered the legend of every water dragon possessing a treasured magic pearl, and only then grasped that the pearl had originally belonged to the dragon guarding this river.

The deluge meanwhile had filled the river once more and her darling boy, now a dragon, started to glide towards it. With courage only a mother has she clung onto his scaly foot but, with a gentle pull, he freed himself. He slithered towards the torrent as his very motion threw up mud-banks along the sides of the river. Love is a powerful bond and so, each time that she cried out to him, the dragon did turn his mammoth body to briefly gaze her. After an angst-ridden roar however, he slid beneath the torrent of the river Min. 

To this day the mud banks on the river Min are referred to as the “Looking Back at Mother” banks, in memory of the boy who’d swallowed the pearl and transformed into a mighty River Dragon. True to the boy’s generous nature, the Dragon of the River fed and nourished the crops of the villages along his banks from that day on, and there has never again been such a taxing drought in that province.

The End

 THE THREE EVILS (REVISED)

(A Chinese Folktale re-written by BoSt)

 Once upon a time, there lived an eccentric young man by the name of Dschou Tschu. He wore a high hat on his head adorned with two pheasants’ wings; his garments were woven of embroidered silk, and at his side hung the Dragon-spring sword.  He had a wild and mischievous nature which became far worse when he was inebriated. He always intruded into other's business and any ongoing disputes; meanwhile, wherever he went his pranks and tomfoolery, as well, his inclination to forcefully take that which belonged to others, beget or fostered quarrels and brawls. He was hence, furtively detested throughout the neighborhood and whoever offended him had good reason to dread the ensued terrible consequences. As he was blessed with an extraordinary super-human strength however, the law enforcement officers and the village elders dared not rebuke (reprimand, admonish) or punish him seriously. And so, he’d persisted with his unruly ways for many a year.

Eventually a new Official was posted to that district; before the new magistrate formally took up office however, surreptitiously (covertly and under disguise) he first went about the countryside and listened to the citizen’s complaints. They in unison told him that there were three great evils in that district.

The magistrate still under disguise, decided to in person call on Dschou Tschu.

Late that night when most decent folks were fast asleep, the inebriated Dschou Tschu returned from the tavern, along the way slapping his sword and singing in a loud voice.

When he reached his house he noted the man with his head down seated by the door and asked: “Who are you; why are you weeping here so pitifully?”

The magistrate raised his head and glaring at Dschou, replied: “I am weeping because of the people’s distress.”

Dschou Tschu grimaced then threw his head back and guffawed.

“You are mistaken, my friend,” said he. “Revolt is seething round about us like boiling water in a kettle. But here, in our little corner of the land, all is quiet and peaceful. The harvest has been abundant, corn is plentiful, and all go happily about their work. When you talk to me about distress I have to think of the man who groans without being sick. And who are you, tell me that, which instead of grieving for yourself, are grieving for others? And what are you doing loitering at my door in this ungodly hour?”

“I am the new Magistrate,” replied the other. “Since I left my litter I have been looking about in the neighborhood. I find the people are honest and simple in their way of life, and everyone has sufficient to wear and to eat. This is all just as you state. Yet, strange to say, when the elders come together, they always sigh and complain. And if they are asked why, they answer: ‘There are three great evils in our district!’ I have come to ask you to do away with two of them, as to the third… perhaps I had better remain silent. And this is the reason I weep before your door.”

“Well, what are these evils?” enquired Dschou Tschu. “Speak freely, and tell me openly all that you know!”

“The first evil,” said the Magistrate “is the evil dragon at the long bridge, which causes the water to rise so that man and beast are drowned in the river.

The second evil is the voracious, predatory tiger with the white forehead, which dwells in the hills.

And the third evil, Dschou Tschu—is you!”

The crimson hue, the blush of shame swiftly infused the young man’s cheeks, and he bowed and said: “You have come here from afar to be the Magistrate of this district, and yet you feel such sympathy for the people? I was born in this place and yet I have only made our elders grieve. What sort of a creature must I be? I beg that you return to your residence; fear not, I will see to it that matters improve!”

Dschou Tschu at once took off and ran all the way without stopping till he reached the hills. There he hunted the tiger out of his cave. The latter leaped into the air so that the whole forest was shaken as though by a storm. Next he came rushing up, roaring, and stretching out his claws savagely to seize his pray. Dschou nimbly stepped back a pace, and the tiger landed on the ground directly in front of him. Then he thrust the tiger’s neck to the ground with his left hand, and beat him without stopping with his right, until he lay dead on the earth. Dschou loaded the tiger on his back and went straight home.

Dschou Tschu subsequently went to the long bridge. He undressed, took his sword in his hand, and thus dived into the icy water. No sooner had he disappeared, than there was a boiling and hissing, and the waves began to foam and billow. It sounded like the mad beating of thousands of hoofs. After a time a stream of blood shot up from the depths, and the water of the river turned red. Eventually triumphant Dschou, holding the dragon’s decapitated head in his hand, rose out of the waves.

He went to the Magistrate and reported, with a bow: “I have cut off the Dragon’s head and have also done away with the Tiger. Thus I have happily accomplished your two commands. And now I shall wander away so that you may be rid of the third evil as well. My Lord, please keep watch over my countrymen and, relay to the elders that they need sorrow no more!”

When he had said this he enlisted as a soldier. In combat against the robbers he gained a great reputation and once, when the latter were pressing him hard, and he saw that he could not save himself, he bowed to the East and said: “The day has come at last when I can atone for my sin with my life!” Then he offered his neck to the sword and died.

Fin