Two young lovers there were of humble origin. Caihong, who was more brilliant to her lover than the rainbow. Jin, who was more precious to his lover than gold.
Though young, they were sensible, and had already made their plans for the lives they would live together—the number of children they would have, the color of the roof on their house, the trading of places for the scholarship each sought to pursue, one in medicine and one in art.
Late in the morning, they strode along the road one day, each bearing baskets from early errands. They were so enchanted with each other that the vibrant energies of their love pulsed far and wide, and far, far above. Those energies attracted the attention of an unusual creature, a great bird with ten heads that lived in the forbidding depths of the mountains that bordered their country.
Read More The Ten Terrible Heads of Shi Xin Niao
The story will be told by the young and by the old, many times this night, of the nine gods in masquerade. And it seems to me, that most of these storytellers have only pieces of a greater puzzle.
The masquerade is an ancient custom, they say. They all say that. And that part is right.
It’s the one night when the gods, in disguise, walk among the mortals, they say.
We all know there’s no such things as gods. Only ancestors, some of whom knew more and better than we do, and some of whom knew less and worse.
Read More Nine Gods in Masquerade
The couple had thirteen children by the time they were finished siring. One by one, as each child came of age, they were sent out into the world to seek their fortunes and their purposes for themselves. To each child their parents gave one gift to help them on their way. And upon receiving their gifts, each child proclaimed their grand aims.
Read More A Tale of Nine Lemons