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Authors: Grace Lin

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction / Fairy Tales & Folklore - Adaptations, #Juvenile Fiction / Historical - Asia, #Juvenile Fiction / Action & Adventure - General

Starry River of the Sky (10 page)

BOOK: Starry River of the Sky
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Rendi stared at Mr. Shan slowly shuffling away, looking as ancient and as feeble as he always did. Rendi looked back at the well. A cold, icy wind seemed to blow through him. Suddenly, he had a vision of someone, something—a dark green blur—leaping into the gaping hole of the well, angry roars echoing upward. Rendi shivered.

Then he shook himself. The hot summer sun shone down, and its bright yellow light burned away any imaginings. He began to gather the water, which, now, with the partition gone, he was able to do faster than he ever had before.

However, when Rendi returned to his room at the inn, he still felt the weight of Mr. Shan’s words.
Make sure you do as you say.
Rendi had said that he would tell a story for Madame Chang. They had an agreement. If he left now,
he would be a liar and a cheater.
Like my father
, Rendi thought, and the sinking sun cast a dark shadow on his face.

Finally, he opened his drawers and took out his belongings, carefully folding them into his plain cloth bag. His last item was a smooth, blue-and-white rice bowl. It was thin and delicate, with faint traces of gold paint and a fineness that stood out in the poorness of his surroundings. Cupping it in his hands, Rendi gazed silently for a long moment.

“Why not?” he said.

CHAPTER
17

Rendi set down the chopsticks and the rice bowl, the thick, dark pottery of the bowl making a dull thud. While he waited for everyone else to finish dinner, he tried to look unconcerned and relaxed, even though he felt unexpectedly eager. He was pleased with himself. Tomorrow he would leave. But today he would do as he said he would and tell a story. It was better, anyway, Rendi thought. He wouldn’t want to walk at night with the wind crying and moaning above him.

“Hmm,” Peiyi said, looking at him from the corner of
her eyes. “Rendi, it almost seems like you want to tell a story.”

Rendi looked away as if he’d been caught stealing. He quickly sipped his empty teacup, trying to look nonchalant.

“If you are ready,” Madame Chang said, smiling, “we are willing to listen.”

Mr. Shan and the toad seemed to nod in unison, and even Master Chao, giving up on his feigned indifference, looked up with interest. Rendi put down his cup and smiled in spite of himself. Then he took a deep breath and began his story.

T
HE
S
TORY OF THE
T
HREE
Q
UESTIONS

D
uke Zhe did as he promised. He spoke of Magistrate Tiger to the imperial family with glowing words, and before long, Magistrate Tiger’s dreams began to come true. As the summer
was ending, he received an invitation that was awe-inspiring. It was from the Imperial Palace and invited him to come to the emperor’s Mid-Autumn Moon Festivities.

From that moment, Magistrate Tiger’s home became a hectic typhoon. Magistrate Tiger’s demanding roars echoed without stop as a new green robe was made and embroidered; costly gifts, sculptures of jade and gold, were inspected; and fine horses were groomed. Everyone and everything was so full of activity that it was with great surprise to the children when one day their father called them.

“Children are supposed to be good at riddles,” he said as they bowed at his feet. “If you have any intelligence at all, you will know the answers to these.”

The children stared silently at their father and gulped. Magistrate Tiger looked at their fearful faces and made an expression of disdain, as if he had just eaten an unripe plum.

“Here is the first question,” Magistrate Tiger said. “A thief steals a purse and a man chases and catches him. However, when the authorities arrive, both men
accuse the other of being the thief. Both men are of the same build and height, and bystanders cannot say for certain which is the thief and which is the pursuer. How can you tell?”

After a moment, just as Magistrate Tiger was about to sigh with impatience, the boy stepped forward.

“I would have the two men race,” the boy said, trying to keep his voice from quavering, “and the loser is the thief. For if the pursuer was able to catch the thief, he must be the faster runner of the two.”

Magistrate Tiger looked at his son keenly and then nodded. “Good,” he said, and before the children could feel relief or pride, he continued.

“This is the second question,” Magistrate Tiger said. “A single almond is given to a family of ninety-nine members. How can you share the almond evenly?”

The boy gave his sister a furtive glance, but she was already stepping forward with bright eyes.

“I would boil the almond in water and make it into almond tea,” she said, “and then all can have a cup.”

Magistrate Tiger sniffed in a satisfied manner. “The last question,” he announced. “A pestilence of snails
has come to a village. One man decides that the best way to get rid of the snails in his garden is to throw the snails into his neighbor’s garden. Unfortunately, the neighbor has had the same idea, and snails begin to multiply in both gardens. Before long, the two families are fighting. How do you settle the dispute fairly?”

There was a long silence. Both children looked helplessly at each other. Neither had any idea of an answer. Finally, their father looked at them with disgust. “I see you are as feebleminded as I feared,” he said with a scorn that stung more than a blow. His voice began to rise as his customary roar emerged. He threw up his arms, the green silk of his sleeves whipping at them. “You are a disgrace to our ancestry! The blood of the greatest ruler and hero pumps in us, and you cannot answer a simple question? Out! Out of my sight!”

The children fled and soon found themselves, as they often did, clinging to their mother for comfort.

“Why is he angry all the time?” the boy asked. Even though his sister was a year older than he, she was smaller and he often felt protective of her. He could
feel her trembling like a baby rabbit, and he put his hand on her arm.

“He is not angry,” their mother said unconvincingly. “It is just the way he must act to accomplish things.”

“Why?” the boy asked, scowling. “For what?”

Their mother was quiet for a moment. “For you,” she said finally. “He does all this for you.”

The boy did not understand this either. But both children were glad that their father soon seemed to forget about them. Indeed, as the days came closer to the Mid-Autumn Moon Festivities, Magistrate Tiger seemed like a powerful storm that was best kept away from. When he finally left for the Imperial Palace, his children sighed with relief.

But the children were curious when Magistrate Tiger returned with an extra litter carried by strong men. The sedan they dragged did not hold a person, but a giant, well-wrapped package. Magistrate Tiger himself was carrying a silk box as if it were a dragon’s pearl. The children looked at each other, then ran so they could peek in through the window of their father’s formal chamber.

As the men carefully unloaded the package, Duke Zhe arrived.

“Ah, friend,” Duke Zhe said warmly. “How happy I am for you! The emperor was much impressed by your wisdom and intelligence. Are these your prizes?”

“Yes, yes,” Magistrate Tiger purred. “This is what the emperor gave me for answering the first question correctly.”

And he opened the silk box and took out a blue, white, and gold rice bowl on a gold stand. He held it with an air of awe, and Duke Zhe gave a sigh of appreciation.

“Ah, the finest porcelain in the land, brought out especially for the emperor’s Moon Festivities,” Duke Zhe said. “Made by perhaps the best potter in history as well—see the ancient rabbit motif? It’s the same bowl that the first emperors ate from! A priceless, amazing prize!”

By then, the men had unwrapped the other package. It was an enormous
gang
. The giant porcelain bowl was really a tub, almost as high as Magistrate Tiger’s shoulders and twice as wide. Painted on its
surface, graceful blue fish and lotus flowers seemed to weave together in a silent dance.

Magistrate Tiger carefully placed the bowl on the shelf behind him and then stroked the
gang
gently.

“And the
gang
! Made to be an indoor fishpond!” Duke Zhe said. “I was so pleased when you answered the second question and won this. It is perfect for you! Now you will be able to entertain the fish during the winter months as well.”

“Also the finest porcelain,” Magistrate Tiger said in a gratified voice. “Have you ever seen a
gang
this size, yet so exquisite and thin? They are both truly wondrous gifts.”

“But no more than you deserve,” Duke Zhe said. “You answered those questions magnificently! Determine the thief by running a race! Share the almond by making it into tea! You answered the emperor’s questions so quickly and brilliantly that it was almost as if you knew what the questions were going to be ahead of time.”

“Ah,” Magistrate Tiger said darkly. “If I had known
the questions ahead of time, I would have been able to answer the emperor’s last question.”

“My dear friend,” Duke Zhe said, “the emperor has asked the question of the snail dispute every year at the Moon Festivities. No one has ever answered it. Neighbors throwing snails in each other’s gardens! How could anyone solve that fairly? I think it’s an impossible question.”

“Perhaps,” Magistrate Tiger conceded.

The boy began to sputter. Determine the thief? Sharing an almond? Fighting over snails? His sister quickly pulled him away from the window before he exploded.

“Those were our answers!” he cried as soon as they were out of earshot. “He found out the questions ahead of time and used our answers!”

“Shhh,” his sister said, glancing over her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” the boy said, still outraged. “It was my answer!”

“Well, if everything he does is for you,” she said, “then it’s okay that he took your answer, right?”

The boy was silent. Did his father roar and trick
and lie for him? He felt a mixture of confusion and resentment.

“It doesn’t seem like he does it for me,” the boy said sullenly.

“He does,” his sister said.

But she sounded more hopeful than sure.

BOOK: Starry River of the Sky
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