CHAPTER.

40.

Ma stood by the window as the stars began to poke holes in the deep blue velvet sky. The days without Minli had pa.s.sed slowly, and the evenings even slower. Ma wondered how the silver goldfish could remain calm in the bowl, while she herself felt she could barely breathe. As the night air touched her face, Ma thought of Minli, bit her lip, and sighed. Her eyes closed as she willed her tears to stop forming. When she opened her eyes, Ba was standing next to her.

"I know," he said to her, and he placed his hand over hers.

"It is hard to wait," Ma said.

"Yes," Ba said, "we are like the dragon waiting for a sign of his pearl."

"The dragon waiting?" Ma asked.

"Oh, nothing," Ba said. "It's just a story."

The wind blew gently, like the calming touch of a healer. "I wouldn't mind hearing it," Ma said. "It might make the time pa.s.s faster."

Ba looked at her, surprised, and then nodded with a small smile.

THE STORY OF.

THE DRAGON'S PEARL.

Once, a dragon found a large white stone, round and softened by the ocean and wind. As he admired it, it began to shine in his hands. How pretty, he thought, I will make this into a pearl.

So day after day, month after month, for many years, the dragon went without eating and sleeping as he made the pearl. He carved the stone with his claws and smoothed it with his scales. He carried it into the clouds, rolled it in fresh raindrops, and bathed it in the Celestial River. He polished it with pale chrysanthemum petals. Finally, it was done - perfectly round and luminously smooth. It was flawless and beautiful. As the dragon looked at it, a tear of exhaustion and joy fell from his eye and landed on the pearl. As the teardrop soaked into the pearl, it began to shine with a dazzling radiance. The dragon smiled with delight. Exhausted, he fell asleep in the light of the pearl.

But the pearl continued to glow. The light was so lovely that it caught the attention of the Queen Mother of the Heavens. When she found out that the brightness came from the dragon's wondrous pearl, she sent two of her servants to steal it. The servants were able to accomplish this quite easily, as the dragon - weary from his many years of work - slept quite long and soundly.

When the Queen Mother received the pearl, even she was astonished by its loveliness. No pearl, no jewel, no treasure in the heavens or on earth could compare. She quickly had a vault made in the deepest part of her kingdom that one could only get to by going through nine locked doors. She put the pearl in the chamber and tied the nine keys to the doors onto her belt.

When the dragon woke up and found his pearl missing, he began a frantic search. He hunted the oceans and mountains, the rivers and valleys. He flew through the Celestial River, examining each star. But none gave the pure, clear light of his pearl.

Eventually, the dragon was forced to give up his search. He had no idea where to look or where the pearl could be. But he did not give up hope that he would find it. Instead, he waited for a sign of it.

And he did not wait in vain. On her birthday, the Queen Mother had a grand celebration. Inviting all the immortals of heaven, she held a "Banquet of Peaches," an endless a.s.sortment of rich and delicious dishes made from the peaches of immortality. Fragrant and potent peach wine was served with each dish, and every time her gla.s.s was low, the Queen Mother called for more.

So when the guests heralded her with compliments, flattery and fine gifts, the Queen Mother recklessly decided to show off her stolen treasure. "My dear friends," she said impetuously, "your gifts and words are fine, indeed, but I have something that far outshines them."

And she took out her nine keys, unlocked the nine doors, and brought out the dragon's pearl. A hush went over the party as the pearl glowed with a light of such radiance that it flooded out of the palace and into all the heavens.

As the light broke into the sky, the dragon - ever faithfully alert - jerked up his head. "My pearl!" he said and flew as fast as he could toward the light.

When the dragon reached the Queen Mother's palace, he burst upon a crowd of admiring immortals fawning over the pearl in the hand of the Queen Mother, pompous with pride. "That is my pearl!" he cried. "Give it back!"

The Queen Mother was infuriated. "This is my pearl," she declared, "how dare you!"

"It is mine!" the dragon said, and looking at the flush of her cheeks and evading eyes, demanded, "You stole it, didn't you?"

"I don't need to steal anything," the Queen Mother bl.u.s.tered. "I am the Queen Mother of the Heavens! All treasures made by the earth or heaven belong to me!"

"Heaven did not make that pearl," the dragon said, "nor the earth! I made it with years of work and effort. It is mine!"

The Queen Mother began to panic, and she fled out of the palace and into the garden, clutching the pearl. The dragon pursued her, determined not to lose the pearl again. The party guests followed, creating such a commotion of excitement and chaos that the Heavenly Grandfather (who tended to avoid his daughter's flamboyant parties) decided to leave his study to investigate the disturbance.

The Queen Mother, fl.u.s.tered and agitated, ran through the garden, leading a great chase. As she reached the garden wall and could not run any farther, she was horrified to see not only the dragon and her party guests, but also her father coming after her. As they reached her, in a fit of terror, she threw the pearl over the wall.

The dragon gave a roar of dismay, and all rushed to look over the garden wall to see the pearl fall deep into the Celestial River. In the deep blue water that separated heaven and earth, the pearl seemed to grow larger and glow more radiantly.

The dragon began to make movements to dive into the river when the Heavenly Grandfather stopped him. "Leave it there," he said, "and shame on you both. The pearl should not belong to one being. Do you not see this is where the pearl belongs, where everyone on heaven and earth can see its beauty and enjoy it?"

Both the dragon and the Queen Mother, humbled, nodded and the guests praised the Heavenly Grandfather's wisdom. And so did the people on earth, for now when they looked up into the sky the moon glowed down upon them.

There was a peaceful silence after Ba finished the story. Finally Ma gave a small sigh and a smile. "If Minli were here, she would ask you if that story were true."

"And I would have to tell her, 'probably not,' " Ba said. "When I was a very young boy, I remember seeing a glimpse of a rare dragon pearl. It was being carried to the Emperor himself, guarded by hundreds of men, and there was still a moon in the sky."

"There is more than one pearl in the ocean," the fish said. "So of course there is more than one dragon pearl. Though the dragon pearl that makes the moon is by far the largest."

Ba glanced carefully at the fish and then at Ma, but both seemed ignorant of the other, and neither looked at him.

"I remember hearing about that," Ma said. "That pearl was supposed to be worth the Emperor's entire fortune. A single pearl. I suppose it could've belonged to a dragon."

She spoke without the desire or envy she used to feel when speaking of the wealth of others. The moonlight seemed to transform her, lifting the years of bitterness and hardship and leaving her with a sad serenity. It affected Ba unexpectedly, in a way he had not felt in years; he filled with great tenderness.

But Ma continued to stare dreamily out the window, as unaware of his thoughts as she was of the fish's words.

CHAPTER 41.

"It must be a bridge to the top of Never-Ending Mountain," Dragon said, "and to the Old Man of the Moon."

With the attached bamboo stakes, Minli and the dragon had anch.o.r.ed their end of the bridge to the ground. As it stretched into the night, it quivered in the moonlight.

Minli stared at the vast length of the bridge, hanging in the sky like a delicate red spiderweb. "I don't think you will be able to cross it," Minli said.

Dragon, too, looked at the U-shaped bridge, with its fragile ropes. "I cannot fit on it," he said, "and I doubt it will bear my weight."

"Well," Minli said, "maybe it is magic, like the thread. Try."

Dragon put one foot onto the rope bridge. But as the rope felt his ma.s.s, it groaned and the bamboo stakes began to tear out of the ground. Hurriedly, Dragon stepped off.

"I think," Dragon said slowly, "I am not destined to see the Old Man of the Moon."

Minli looked at Dragon's downcast eyes and read the years of sadness and frustration in his face. Tears burned in her eyes as she thought about their long travels that had led to this disappointment.

"I wish I could fly," the dragon said simply.

"You will," Minli said, blinking her tears away. "The bridge is big and strong enough for me. I'll ask the Old Man of the Moon your question and return."

Dragon brightened with hope. "You will?" he asked. "You will do that?"

Minli nodded. "I will wait for you here," Dragon said. "I will not move until you return. When you tell me what he says, I will fly you back home to your family."

"Then I better get going," Minli said, but her smile faded as she looked at the bridge in front of her that seemed to loom into nothingness.

"I will wait for you here," Dragon repeated.

Minli nodded and took a deep breath. Then, grasping the two side ropes for balance, she carefully stepped onto the rope bridge and began to walk.

CHAPTER 42.

The sky around Minli was quiet as she walked on the red rope bridge. The only sounds she heard were that of her own breathing and the pounding of her heart in her chest. After the dragon and land had faded from view, Minli saw nothing except for the night around her. With such a limitless landscape, she could not tell how far she had walked or how much of the bridge she had left. It seemed never ending - she began to wonder if she had walked for hours or days.

But slowly, so slowly Minli almost didn't notice it, the darkness of the night lessened. With each step she took, the world around her became brighter. And with this light, Minli saw that the sky below her had somehow become a vast lake of pure water and the night clouds were made of floating lilies. And stretched before her in the distance, like a faraway coast, she saw a high wall that seemed to glow. The wall was smooth and creamy white, as if made out of pearl. It too seemed to be endless; Minli could not see where it began or ended.

However, as Minli got closer, she saw a round opening in the wall just before her. And in that circular pa.s.sageway, a white rabbit stood like a jade statue. It was only when Minli stepped off the bridge and the rabbit started toward her that Minli realized it was alive.

"Welcome," the rabbit said. "You're a little late. Did you have trouble with the monkeys?"

Minli was too astonished to speak. The rabbit looked extremely like the one painted on her blue rice bowl. She nodded with her mouth gaping.

"Well, let's go," the rabbit said. "You're going to have to keep it short with the Old Man; he's very busy and he hates unnecessary talk."

Minli followed the rabbit through the round opening into a white courtyard and over a polished stone bridge that seemed to grow from the ground. As they pa.s.sed over it, Minli saw the smooth water wave with gentle ripples and heard what sounded like faint drumming. To one side of her in the distance, standing out against the flat landscape, Minli saw the silhouette of a man cutting down a lone tree, his ax making a thumping rhythm. As he chopped, the branches of the tree shook; leaves, blossoms, and seeds flew through the air and dropped into the water like raindrops.

"Is that the Old Man of the Moon?" Minli asked.

"Him?" the rabbit said, following Minli's gaze. "Oh, no. That's Wu Kang."

"Why is he cutting down the tree?" Minli asked. It seemed a shame to her that the only tree on Never-Ending Mountain was being cut down.

"Questions, questions," the rabbit said. "I should make you wait to ask the Old Man, but if you must know Wu Kang tries to cut down that tree every night."

"Every night?" Minli couldn't help asking.

"Yes," the rabbit said.

THE STORY OF WU KANG Most thought Wu Kang was very lucky. His wife was beautiful and his children were healthy and they all lived in a comfortable cottage on a farm in the country. His parents and elder brother lived with him and his neighbors were faithful friends. But Wu Kang always wanted more. So when his crops thrived and flourished, he decided farming was not satisfying enough for him and the day he reaped his successful harvest, he told his friends that he was leaving the countryside to move to town.

"Why?" they asked him.

"I want more," Wu Kang said.

"But we are so happy here all together," they said. "It is not enough," Wu Kang said.

So he packed up his possessions, and sold his cottage, farm, and land. Then, with his wife, children, parents, and brother he moved to town. It was crowded and inconvenient in the smaller house, but Wu Kang was able to apprentice himself to a furniture maker, and his family began to adapt to their cramped home. However, the day he was able to carve a chair from beechwood was the day he quit and decided to move to the city.

"Why?" his parents asked him.

"I want more," Wu Kang said.

"But we are happy here together," they said.

"It is not enough," Wu Kang said.

So, with his wife and children walking behind him, Wu Kang left his parents and brother behind and moved to the city to search for something more. Their new home was a small hut of earth squeezed between other tumbledown houses on a filthy street, far away from the tight, cozy house in town or the comfortable cottage on the farm. Nonetheless, his wife and children adjusted to life in the city while Wu Kang looked for satisfaction. But still nothing was enough for him. After mastering the abacus, Wu Kang decided to quit the training to be a store keeper. After learning how to hold a paintbrush, he stopped studying for a government position. Wu Kang always wanted more.

"Maybe you should try to become an Immortal," his young son said to him. "You couldn't want more than that."

"I think," Wu Kang said, "perhaps, you are right."

So Wu Kang packed up a small bag and left his wife and children to find an Immortal to study under. His heartbroken wife pleaded with him as he stepped out the door.

"Don't leave," she said. "Here, we are together."

"It is not enough," Wu Kang said.

Wu Kang searched and traveled long and far and, one night, he found the Old Man of the Moon. "At last," Wu Kang said, "an Immortal! Master, will you teach me?"

The Old Man of the Moon preferred to decline, but Wu Kang insisted and begged. So, with misgivings, the Old Man agreed and brought Wu Kang to Never-Ending Mountain.

So the Old Man began to teach Wu Kang lessons full of wonder, that common men would marvel at. However, Wu Kang, true to his nature, was unmoved and aspired for more. When the Old Man showed him how to obtain red threads from his granddaughter, the G.o.ddess of Weaving, traveling across the sea of stars on a bridge of night birds, Wu Kang watched and followed but, after three days, was discontent. "Master," Wu Kang said, "there must be something more you can teach me."

So the Old Man taught Wu Kang how to tie the threads of destiny, sealing the knots with a shaft of light from the moon. Wu Kang studied and copied, but after two days he again grew restless. "Master," Wu Kang said, "I know you can teach me more."

Hence, the Old Man took out the sacred Book of Fortune and began to teach Wu Kang how to read its text. But after one day, Wu Kang exclaimed, "There must be more than this!"

With that, the Old Man clapped the book shut. "Yes," the Old Man agreed, "there is."

And without a word, the Old Man led Wu Kang to a barren area of Never-Ending Mountain. The Old Man knocked the ground with his walking stick and from the rock a silver tree grew. As Wu Kang stared, the Old Man tied a string of destiny around him and the tree.

"The only things for me to teach you," the Old Man said to Wu Kang as he handed him an axe, "are the lessons of contentment and patience. Only when you are able to cut this tree down will I know you have learned it."