Starry River of the Sky (20 page)

“Jiming!!!” Peiyi shrieked. Figures flew like swooping birds as all, even MeiLan, who forgot about maidenly modesty in her joy, rushed to hug and squeeze and cry over Jiming. Rendi grinned but stood back. Perhaps that
is why he was the only one who heard the loud splash in the water.

When Rendi turned to look, he saw Mr. Shan bursting through the lake surface, drops of silver water flung into the air like thrown stars. Mr. Shan raised his hands overhead in a triumphant gesture, and Rendi saw he was holding a large book dripping with water.

“I found it!” Mr. Shan said.

“I don’t understand about the moon,” Peiyi said, gently stroking its smooth surface with a single finger. “It’s very beautiful and it is big. But it isn’t big enough for WangYi’s wife to live on. Isn’t she supposed to have a palace on it?”

“That’s because the moon has fallen from the sky,” Madame Chang said. She was hovering around it like a white-winged moth. “The moon is like a closed flower now. When it enters the Starry River, it expands and a palace of water jade and pearl grows.”

“Well, how do we get the moon back into the sky?” Jiming said. “I think that’s the problem.”

“Maybe if we roll it into the lake…” Rendi started.

“No,” Mr. Shan said. He was dripping wet, but he did not seem to notice. He held his book in his arms as if it were a newborn child and said, “The sky cannot reflect the lake. The moon must be returned to the sky.”

“It’s very late,” Master Chao cut in. “I think we will not be able to return the moon tonight.”

“Yes,” Widow Yan said. “We should go back to the village.”

“Should we take the moon there?” Peiyi asked.

They all looked at it. Round and glowing, it was full of a quiet tranquillity that Rendi did not wish to disturb. The others must have felt the same way, for they all nodded when MeiLan said, “I think we should leave the moon here.”

“But not by itself,” Peiyi said. “Who knows what will happen to it next?”

“Someone should stay with it,” Widow Yan agreed.

“I will stay with it,” Mr. Shan said. He looked at
Madame Chang, whose eyes had not left the moon since it had appeared. “It will not disappear again.”

Rendi looked curiously at Mr. Shan. His long white beard still trickled a delicate stream of water, and the spaces between his wrinkles were few and small. But his eyes had lost their dull, absent look and now sparkled like cut crystals.

“You’ll stay all night?” Rendi said.

Mr. Shan nodded. The toad, back in his familiar pocket, croaked in agreement. Mr. Shan sat down cross-legged against the moon and opened his precious book on his lap. With a look of great contentment, he began to read.

Peiyi giggled. “You look just like the sage in Madame Chang’s story!” she laughed.

“What sage?” Jiming asked.

“It was a story Madame Chang told us,” Rendi said. “It was about a sage who had a book with all this knowledge in it, like the secret to peace and things like that.”

“Well, then, Mr. Shan,” Jiming joked, “do you know the secret to peace?”

Mr. Shan looked up. His dark eyes, once confused, were now bright and wise.

“Yes,” he said. “I remember everything now. The secret to peace is forgiveness.”

His words hung in the air like small, ripe apples dangling from a branch. All were silent, and Mr. Shan bowed his head and began to read again.

Then Master Chao nodded at Widow Yan. Without a word, Widow Yan stepped forward, took MeiLan’s hand, and placed it in Jiming’s.

The next day, when the edges of the sky began to darken like a delicate cloth soaking in ink, Peiyi burst into Madame Chang’s room. Both Madame Chang and Rendi, who had been filling the lanterns with oil, looked at her in surprise.

“Madame Chang!” Peiyi cried. “You have to fix it!”

“What’s wrong?” Rendi asked, alarmed.

“They think the moon should be taken to the city,” Peiyi said, “and the king should figure out how to return it to the sky! And Jiming is going to be the one to take it!”

It took a moment for Rendi to untangle Peiyi’s words. The “they” Peiyi mentioned was most likely the crowd of villagers downstairs. The villagers had heard the story of Jiming and the moon as if it had been told by thunder, and, one by one, they had come to the inn to discuss, argue, and decide the fate of the moon. The dining room of the inn was now completely full.

“The villagers think the moon should be brought to the king?” Rendi asked. “That is not a bad idea. Why is that a problem?”

“It’s a problem because to take the moon to the king, someone has to roll it to the city!” Peiyi said. “And it’s going to be Jiming! He just got home! He shouldn’t leave again! Why is he leaving? Everyone leaves!”

Peiyi began to sob and then threw herself into Madame Chang’s arms. Rendi stood awkwardly but looked at Madame Chang with worry.

“Peiyi,” Madame Chang said, gently peeling away Peiyi’s arms so she could look in her eyes. “Sometimes people must leave.”

“But why?” Peiyi wept.

Madame Chang thought for a moment before she
spoke. “For the night, there is the day. For the sun, there is the moon. For people to come, people must go,” she said. “It is part of the balance.”

“Why do we need balance, then?” Peiyi said, her lower lip jutting out stubbornly.

“Peiyi, it’s like the stories,” Rendi said, trying to be helpful. “When there were too many suns, people burned. When there was no sun, people were cold. It has to be even.” Then he had a sudden thought. If the sun was fire, then that meant the moon was water. Did the Village of Clear Sky, unlike everywhere else, still have water because the moon had been so near? And was there no rain because there was no moon in the sky?

“Yes,” Madame Chang said, nodding. “We need balance to have harmony.”

“But I don’t want it to be Jiming who leaves!” Peiyi wailed.

“I know,” Madame Chang said, patting her head. “And this time, he won’t. Jiming will not have to leave.”

“Really?” Peiyi sniffed.

“Yes,” Madame Chang said. And then she added softly, but firmly, “And I will never leave. Every night of your life, I will be there for you.”

She looked again into Peiyi’s eyes as if trying to fill her with light. Rendi watched as Peiyi’s tears disappeared and her hiccupping figure calmed into a peaceful stillness.

Madame Chang sat Peiyi softly on the bed. “I will go talk to the villagers,” she said.

“What will you say?” Peiyi asked.

“The truth,” Madame Chang said. “Taking the moon to the king is the wrong thing to do.”

Madame Chang left the room with Rendi following close behind. Even before they were all the way down the stairs, they could hear the voices of Master Chao, Jiming, and the villagers.

“The moon must be taken to the king immediately,” a villager said. “And if the king does not know what to do, then he can take it to the emperor. The moon must return to the sky without delay!”

“Yes,” another villager said. “The king or the emperor must take action at once! The moon belongs to all the
people, and they are responsible for the welfare of the people. The king and the emperor are responsible for the moon!”

“They are not the only ones responsible,” Jiming said in a wry tone, which Rendi could understand. Until today, the villagers had been unconcerned about the missing moon, but now, as Madame Chang and Rendi stood in the room, they were all fervent and alarmed.

“I will roll the moon to the king,” Jiming continued. “But it is a long journey to the City of Far Remote, especially on foot, and it is unknown when I’ll return. So before I leave, I insist that I am allowed to marry MeiLan and, in my absence, that she is treated as my honored wife.”

More than anyone, Rendi could hear sorrow and the brave sadness of sacrifice in Jiming’s voice. Rendi remembered the yearning in Jiming’s eyes when he had been a toad. Jiming had wanted desperately to return home, but now he was leaving again.

“We can have the wedding tomorrow,” Master Chao said, and all the heads in the room nodded in agreement. Except for Madame Chang’s.

“Jiming should not move the moon,” Madame Chang said, and they all turned to look at her. “The king can do nothing. Only a mountain can hold up the moon.”

“But then it is right for Jiming to take the moon,” Master Chao said in his self-important way. “Our ancestor moved a mountain. Jiming will move the moon.”

“Your ancestor did not move the mountain!” Madame Chang said in a voice louder than Rendi had ever heard her use before. Madame Chang slowly looked at each villager, and one by one, each dropped his or her eyes and fell silent, overwhelmed by the force of her gaze. It was as if Madame Chang had removed a translucent veil. Her smooth, pale face seemed to illuminate the room, and Rendi again felt the awe-inspiring sensation of wishing to kneel at her feet.

“Poor villagers of Clear Sky,” she said in a softer voice, “it has been so long, yet you still do not see. Your sky is not clear. Your sky is empty. Let me tell you the true story of your mountain.”

T
HE
T
RUE
S
TORY OF THE
M
OUNTAIN
T
HAT
M
OVED

T
his village was once the Village of Endless Mountain, renowned for its peace and wisdom. The Moon Lady above was responsible for the peace, but the wisdom was mostly because of the sage Spirit of the Mountain, who often took the form of a human bestowing advice on those who sought him. Endless Mountain was honored and revered by all.

But time passed and people slowly began to forget about the Spirit of the Mountain and even about the Moon Lady. The villagers became thoughtless and began having small, foolish arguments. And when a new family moved to the village, none noticed the warnings of their approaching fate.

The wife and sons were loyal and humble, but the father was domineering and thoughtless. On a whim,
he decided he wanted tea made from Nan Ling water and forced his sons to carry him to the Long River and stupidly risked all their lives as they rowed him into the fierce waves. If he began to lose at a game of chess, he promptly quit playing. When two baby oxen were born, he was so impatient to get them to his stable that he tied them by the tails and dragged them home. The Moon Lady and the Spirit of the Mountain looked down at him with disapproving eyes.

But one day, the man decided that the mountain, the great, never-ending mountain whose tip touched the moon, was a hindrance. “This mountain blocks my view!” he sputtered. “We must move it!”

So he gathered shovels and pails and ordered his obedient sons to dig. All day, the sons and even the wife carried away rock and dirt one bucket at a time. As the sun sank behind the mountain, the workers cast silent, pleading eyes up at the sky. So saddened by their plight, the Moon Lady entreated the Spirit of the Mountain to interfere.

The Spirit of the Mountain had barely noticed the buckets of rock that had been moved, feeling it the way
one of us would feel the loss of a single hair. But the Moon Lady’s appeal had roused him, and he found himself surprised and curious. Villagers had taken to watching the odd labor, some to jeer and some to encourage. But none tried to stop it. Taking human shape, the Spirit of the Mountain went to visit the man.

“Why are you trying to move the mountain?” the Spirit asked. “Why spend your every hour, every day of your life on something so meaningless?”

“This mountain of annoyance will be moved!” the man swore. “If I do not move the mountain in my lifetime, my sons will continue my work and their sons afterward, until this mountain bothers no one again! It is this stupid, unnecessary mountain that is meaningless!”

And with those words, the Mountain Spirit felt an anger build inside him, a cold, hard anger like a rock freezing in ice. The mountain was unnecessary? He was stupid and meaningless? For countless generations, the Spirit had guided and helped the villagers, and now they wished to cast him away like refuse from a chamber pot? The Spirit of the Mountain filled
with bitterness and resentment. He could not stay. He would leave. The mountain would be an annoyance no longer.

The Moon Lady was alarmed, for she knew, without the mountain to anchor it, the moon could fall from the sky. But the Mountain Spirit, too angry and hurt, did not hear her words. He refused to stay where he was unwanted.

So the next morning, the Village of Endless Mountain was no longer. The never-ending mountain left, leaving behind only the flat bare stone. The land was empty, just like the sky.