“I have never experienced such a wondrous sight,” Duke Zhe said. “To my ears, your playing was simple, but it must have conveyed such harmonious thoughts that only the fish could hear and rejoice at. You must be a very virtuous and wise man, Magistrate.”
“Oh, you flatter me,” Magistrate Tiger purred. “I simply try my best.”
“Your name has come up once or twice at some of the imperial functions,” Duke Zhe continued. “I will make sure that you begin to receive the attention you deserve.”
“Thank you, Lord Duke,” Magistrate Tiger said. “You are most gracious.”
The duke turned around and began to walk back to the house. Magistrate Tiger moved to follow him, but before he turned, a look of triumphant conceit flashed on his face. The boy felt a shock run through him. It had been a trick!
His father had planned the whole thing, the son realized. The practicing at the pond, the throwing of the rice every day—they had been training the fish to jump to Magistrate Tiger’s music. And all of it had been done just to influence Duke Zhe.
As Magistrate Tiger and Duke Zhe disappeared into the house, the boy dropped from the tree and stared blankly into the fishpond. It was clever of his father to trick the duke, was it not? But as he remembered Duke Zhe’s serious, sincere face filled with awe, the boy saw his own face in the still water before him. And his own face looked guilty.
As Rendi finished the story, he looked at all of them staring at him silently. “You said it didn’t have to be a good story,” he said crossly.
“No, it was very good,” Madame Chang said. “It was extremely interesting.”
“Yes.” Peiyi nodded. “I’m just surprised.”
At that, Rendi grinned. And then he was the one who was surprised, because everyone smiled back.
CHAPTER
14
When Rendi finished his story, the sunlight had all but disappeared, and the night sky seemed to be swallowing the small inn. Even as Master Chao lit the large lantern in the open doorway, the blackness spread like spilled ink.
“So dark,” Mr. Shan said, to no one.
After telling his story, Rendi felt surprisingly talkative, and the thoughts he had been holding inside began to leak out.
“It’s because the moon is gone. It’s missing,” Rendi said. “And the sky…” Rendi stopped. Did he dare mention the crying sky? Would they think he was crazy?
“Nonsense,” Master Chao said. “Missing moon! It’s just another moonless night.”
“Rendi’s right,” Peiyi said. “The moon is lost.”
“Well, we didn’t lose it,” Master Chao said. “Someone else can go find it. We have other things to do.”
Rendi swallowed his disappointment. No one cared about the moon, and the wails he heard in the night probably were just in his head. As if agreeing, the dark sky began to sigh—a sad, miserable whimper. When Rendi looked up, Madame Chang was standing in front of him, looking out the window. There was a sadness in her eyes that he did not understand.
“It is better to light a lantern than to bemoan the darkness,” Madame Chang said softly to herself, as if in a dream.
Peiyi heard her. “Can’t we light more lanterns, then?” she said eagerly. “To make up for the light of the moon?”
“More lanterns?” Master Chao said, and a worried look flashed over his face. He stroked the red cinnabar beads of his belt decoration the same way he touched the beads of his abacus, and suddenly Rendi saw that Master Chao had much more pride than he did wealth. “Peiyi, it would just be a waste of lantern oil.”
Madame Chang slowly turned. “We can’t make up for the light of the moon,” she said to Peiyi. “But we can make some light without wasting oil.”
She walked out through the door, as graceful as a curving wisp of gray smoke. Rendi and the others watched, silently captive, as she plucked a handful of tall, dry grass from the front of the inn. Her silver outline seemed to glide against the sky, making her look like a night fairy. And when she lit the ends of the grass with a small flame, Rendi, Peiyi, Mr. Shan, and Master Chao drew around her like moths.
She smiled at them, holding the sheafs of lit grass as if they were incense sticks. The tips of the grass were burning orange embers, like bright seeds of light illuminating her face. Then Madame Chang waved her arm, and the embers glittered and scattered and flew in the darkness—a thousand tiny, glinting diamonds against the black silk of the night.
Madame Chang pulled a delicate, thin cloth from her neck. With a swift motion, the sheer fabric billowed over the flashing sparks as if capturing them in a diaphanous cloud.
Indeed, they were captured, for after Madame Chang knotted the cloth, she was holding a soft, glowing bag of light. Rendi, Peiyi, Mr. Shan, and Master Chao stood with a mix of fright and amazement. What magic had Madame Chang done? Madame Chang handed the bag to Peiyi, who took it with hesitation.
Peiyi looked closely, and her face transformed from timidity to joyful wonder. “Fireflies!” she whispered, enchanted. “It’s a firefly lantern!”
The others crowded around, all fear disappearing. The bag was full of fireflies, and when Rendi looked up, there were hundreds and hundreds more—somehow summoned by Madame Chang. They were flickering and twinkling all around them, and Rendi felt as if he were in the Starry River of the Sky.
Mr. Shan whooped like an excited young boy. “Firefly lanterns!” he hooted. “You can read under this light too!”
With more energy and quickness than Rendi had ever imagined he had, Mr. Shan dropped his walking stick and leaped across the yard, his long legs making him look like a prancing deer. His beard flapped behind him as he tried to catch fireflies with his sleeve.
“Come on, Rendi!” Peiyi said, giving the firefly lantern to her father to hang. “There are enough fireflies to make lanterns for the whole inn!”
Rendi couldn’t resist. Soon he found himself laughing a second time as he and Peiyi ran alongside Mr. Shan, collecting fireflies. Madame Chang supplied translucent cloth and paper for the gatherers, and Master Chao strung the lanterns on a line. The other villagers, attracted by the lights and noise, came out of their homes and were urged to join in by Peiyi and Mr. Shan. Soon, everyone in the whole small Village of Clear Sky was catching fireflies in front of the inn, enjoying themselves in a way they had not for a long time. Their faces were as radiant from pleasure as they were from the brightness, and even Widow Yan and MeiLan, unnoticed by Master Chao, gazed over the wall with smiles.
However, just as Madame Chang was handing Rendi another cloth, the sky gave a loud, plaintive wail, echoing as if annoyed at being ignored. Rendi clutched his ears like he always did.
“Rendi,” Madame Chang asked, shaking him gently, “what’s wrong?”
“The night is crying!” Rendi said, unable to stop himself. “Don’t you hear it? It’s so loud!”
But Widow Yan, MeiLan, and the yard full of galloping villagers looked undisturbed, and Peiyi continued handing her father lanterns, obviously only hearing the sound of laughter. Mr. Shan was gazing at his bag of fireflies as if mesmerized. Had he heard it? Madame Chang looked at Rendi and stood very still. The wind moaned again.
“You don’t hear it?” Rendi asked, almost begging. Was he imagining it? He didn’t want to be crazy. “Peiyi and Master Chao and the villagers don’t hear it either! What’s wrong with me?”
“I hear it, Rendi,” Madame Chang said, putting her hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “But I hear it only faintly. There’s nothing wrong with you. You just hear it the most out of everyone.”
“Why?” Rendi asked. “Why me?”
The sky sent out another pitiful groan, and Rendi looked at her in confusion.
“Remember your story?” Madame Chang said. “The duke believed that if a listener truly understands, he can hear what others cannot. You must understand in a way none of us do.”
“But that wasn’t true,” Rendi protested. “The duke was tricked.”
“The duke wa
s tricked,” Madame Chang said. “But that does not mean what he believed was false.”
The light of the firefly lanterns flickered, and shadows wavered over Rendi’s frowning face. At least he wasn’t crazy, he thought. Rendi looked up at Madame Chang, and a hundred questions formed on his lips. But when the wind gave another restless whimper, Rendi asked, “Did Tiwu ever find out the secret to peace?”
Madame Chang pressed her hand softly on Rendi’s shoulder and smiled. “What do you think?” she said.
Then she turned and left Rendi alone with his thoughts.
CHAPTER
15
“No moon, no rain, no rest,” Rendi groaned to himself. Even though he was relieved that the night moans were not his imaginings, they still kept him up at night, making his sleep restless and poor. Peace could not be found in the daytime either. The sun baked the earth like a kiln, and Rendi felt like a hardened pot as he did his chores in the scalding sun. His frustration returned, and he again counted his days in the village with annoyance.
But when he watched Madame Chang come down the stairs for lunch, Rendi suddenly thought, How stupid I’ve been! Madame Chang came by foot. I don’t need to wait for a guest with a cart. I can just pack up my things and leave! Rendi almost laughed out loud, his mood lightening. Today, he thought. Maybe I’ll go today.
The others were in good spirits too, even the toad sitting next to Mr. Shan’s lunchtime bowl of rice. The toad’s wide mouth curved into something like a grin as Mr. Shan jangled the string of copper coins. The toad jumped as Mr. Shan jerked the coins, their clinking noises sounding like tiny bells. “Rabbit!” he said playfully to the toad. “Rabbit!”
“It’s not a rabbit. It’s a toad,” Rendi said. Poor Mr. Shan, always confused.
“Ah, but it jumps like a rabbit,” Mr. Shan said, looking at Rendi. Mr. Shan’s gaze was disconcerting to Rendi, who realized he had never looked directly into Mr. Shan’s eyes before. They were dark and deep, like the inside of the well Rendi gathered water from. But the expression in them was slightly lost, as if he were being led by a faint, faraway lantern.
“And maybe it is a rabbit inside,” Madame Chang said. “Even when WangYi’s wife was transformed into a toad, she was still herself inside.”
“WangYi’s wife?” Peiyi said. “Like in your story? The wife of the man who shot down the suns?”
Madame Chang nodded, and Peiyi seemed to bask in her glow. “Tell me,” Peiyi begged.
“That depends on Rendi,” Madame Chang said, looking at him. “If I tell another story, so must he.”
Rendi flushed, and it was not from the heat. He felt everyone’s eyes upon him again, and he shrugged. “It’s fine,” he said. What did it matter? he thought. He would be gone before he had to tell another story, anyway.
Madame Chang beamed and began the story.
THE STORY OF WANGYI’S WIFE
After WangYi shot down the suns, all hailed him as a great hero. The sky, earth, and seas echoed with his praises, and the people gave him every honor imaginable, including proclaiming him emperor.
But there was an even greater reward given to him. The Queen Mother of the Heavens, impressed by WangYi’s deeds, requested a visit. When WangYi arrived at the Heavenly Palace, he was awed by its golden splendor and gave the Queen Mother his greatest respect and reverence. Well pleased by WangYi’s humble deference, the Queen Mother decided to give him an unimaginable gift. It was a pill of immortality.
“It is not ripe yet,” the Queen Mother told him when he opened the intricately carved box made from a golden peach pit. Inside was a slippery, round object—rather like a large frog’s egg.
“Right now it is soft and clear,” the Queen Mother continued. “But it will turn hard as jade and then white like the moon, until finally it will become gold like the sun. When the pill is gold, it is ready, and if you swallow it then, you will never die; you will achieve immortality.”
Scarcely believing his good fortune, WangYi thanked the Queen Mother profusely and returned to earth. He hid the pill in his arrow case and told only his wife of its existence.
Then WangYi began to rule the people of the land. But gradually, as years passed, he became spoiled by all the admiration and glory. Slowly, he began to see everyone as his slaves and servants, existing only to do his bidding. Knowing that immortality waited for him, WangYi finally believed he should be treated as a god. He became proud and hard, demanding that his every whim be satisfied. He brutally punished anyone who displeased him, without more thought than if they were ants waiting to be crushed.
And through all this, WangYi’s wife watched, grief-stricken, as the husband she loved changed into a cruel and selfish ruler. Again and again, she would plead for the punished and try to calm WangYi’s arrogant anger. But before long, he did not even hear her gentle words.
Oh, how wretched her life became! How she despaired and wept! The shining gold of the palace could not brighten her misery, and her heart was heavy even as she wore delicate silk as fine as cobwebs. She shut herself in her rooms, unable to bear the sufferings WangYi was causing.
One late afternoon, in her unhappiness, WangYi’s wife took out the poor cotton robes she had worn before WangYi had been made emperor. As her tears fell, she found the arrow that she had taken from WangYi’s case, so long ago when he had shot down the live suns. Quietly, she went to return the arrow to the case.
But as she placed the arrow back, something seemed to flash at her like a flame. It was the golden box.
Almost immediately, she knew what it was. What else could be in such a wondrous golden box—carved with nine chrysanthemum flowers and gleaming in such a way that it could only be made from the pit of a peach of longevity? With trembling hands, she opened the box and stared at the white and glowing pill of immortality.
She could almost feel the power of the pill vibrating in her hands. If WangYi becomes immortal, she thought, he will be emperor for all eternity. She shuddered as she thought of him now, vain and pitiless. The pill was his and it did not belong to her, yet if he kept it his cruelty would continue forever. He would never forgive her, but “I can’t let him take the pill!” she cried.
She threw the pill on the ground and stepped on it. She pounded it with a jade vase. She thrust it in a bowl of water. But the pill remained unharmed, smooth, and radiant like a lustrous pearl. It could not be destroyed.
And it could not be hidden safely either, WangYi’s wife realized. If she hid it, he would search and search until it was found, not caring whom or what he destroyed until he got what he wanted.
Night had fallen, and she heard the heavy footsteps of WangYi coming for her. She fluttered around the room like a trapped butterfly, but as the clear light of the pill shimmered, she suddenly knew what to do. So when WangYi opened the door, she stood waiting for him with the shining pill in her hand.
He stared at her, surprised and speechless. And in that moment of shock, she put the white pill in her mouth and swallowed.
A searing pain swelled inside her as if she was being filled with a vicious poison. Her skin tightened, choking her, and her eyes closed as she fell to the floor, gasping. As she put her hands on the floor to lift herself, she was horrified to see that they had become mottled, wrinkled… and webbed! They were the hands of a toad!
When she looked up at WangYi, through his look of revulsion and fear, she could see her reflection in his eyes. It was not just her hands that were toadlike—she herself had been transformed into a giant toad.
WangYi, finally recovering from his astonishment, gave a shout of anger and started toward her. In terror, she jumped out the door and into the courtyard and the cool night air. As WangYi chased her, she leaped away with all her strength.
To the surprise of them both, her jumps brought her deep into the sky—higher than the palace rooftops and the mountain peak—into where the sky turned into the Starry River. The stars glittered around her like fireflies, and the night water clasped her with welcoming waves
, but she was too frightened to understand what had happened. She could still hear WangYi’s cries of fury, and her transformation into a toad had confused her.
In the distance, in front of her, she saw a round, glowing object as smooth and as white as a pearl. Another pill! she thought, bewildered. I’ll swallow that one too.
She jumped toward it, her silhouette darkening its surface. But instead of swallowing it, she landed on it. For it was the moon, and her new home.
“But even as a toad,” Madame Chang finished, “she was still herself on the inside. The pill she had swallowed just transformed her appearance.”
“Did she always stay a toad?” Peiyi asked, wide-eyed.
Madame Chang smiled faintly. The sadness that Rendi had seen earlier in her eyes returned, and he looked at her curiously. “Many believe that as WangYi’s wife lived on the moon, the pill slowly ripened inside her,” she said. “And one day, when it was finally gold, she changed back into a woman and became the Moon Lady.”
“The Moon Lady?” Rendi asked. He vaguely remembered hearing that name before and had a sudden vision of his mother tilting her head toward the moon with her eyes closed. “Doesn’t the Moon Lady make wishes come true or something?”
“They say the Moon Lady can hear your most secret wish and grant it,” Madame Chang said. “It may be a wish so secret that you don’t even know you have it.”
“Is your secret wish to turn back into a rabbit?” Mr. Shan said playfully to the toad, the coins tinkling as he rattled them. “You’ll have to go to the moon!”
But there is no moon now, Rendi thought. Without it, can the Moon Lady still grant wishes? Does she wish the sky would stop crying and the moon would come back? Would she grant my wish of leaving the Village of Clear Sky?
CHAPTER