The Vow

In a deep ravine behind the wall of an ancient city flowed a small river, and across the river was a bridge made of pure white stone. The stone had been carried from the mountains, a journey of many hundreds of miles. On the railings, lions were skillfully carved, along with people, flowers, and various plants—much effort and labor had been poured into it.

Long ago, in the place of the deep ravine, there was only a narrow stream, so small that no one had even bothered to lay a log across it, let alone build a bridge. The stream was shallow, with water barely covering the bottom, yet it was still impossible to jump across. Whether someone was carrying a load or walking empty-handed, they had to take off their shoes and wade through—what a hassle! And in winter, it was even worse, with the icy water making one's bones ache. Near that stream lay a marvelous stone, which people called the Stone of Immortality. From a distance, it looked like an old man lying down, but up close, one could see eyes, eyelashes, and a beard. It was said that this stone had transformed into an immortal twice before, and during those times, two extraordinary stories had taken place.

In those days, there lived a young man, lonely and poor, with no land or fields to his name. Every day, he went to the mountains to gather firewood, and every day, he crossed the stream, witnessing the troubles it caused travelers. One day, after gathering a bundle of firewood, he brought it to the stream, looked at the water, and thought: "So many people pass through here every day—if only someone would think to build a bridge! Why don’t I do it? I have firewood; even if it’s just for a day or two, it’ll be enough for a small bridge." Though he was reluctant to part with his firewood, he took it off his shoulder and laid it across the water. The water flowed as usual, and people walked across without removing their shoes, no longer afraid of getting their feet wet. Everyone who passed by praised him:

"What a kind person built this bridge! How wonderful! No more trouble or worry!"

The young man walked across his bridge every day, and soon he forgot about it. But one day, at noon, as he was passing by, he noticed the stone stir and transform into an old man. The old man approached him and said kindly:

"I’ve been waiting for you, young man, for a thousand years. I’ve finally found you. I made a vow: whoever is praised a hundred times in my presence shall be granted wealth and fame."

With that, the old man waved his hand, and the young man saw a wide road in the distance, on which a luxurious palanquin gleamed, carried by eight bearers. Inside the palanquin sat the district magistrate, wearing a silk hat.

"Do you see that? Soon, you yourself will ride in such a palanquin."

The old man waved his hand again, and everything disappeared—the road, the palanquin. The young man, envious but skeptical, replied:

"I don’t know a single character—how could I become a district magistrate?"

The old man patted him on the shoulder and said:

"Don’t worry, young man. Go and take the exams. I’ll give you money for the journey. I have a few taels of silver—take them!"

The old man gave the young man the silver, lay down by the stream, and turned back into stone. The young man took the silver, bought new clothes, packed his belongings, and set off for the examination hall. As soon as he picked up the brush, it moved across the paper on its own, and before he knew it, his essay was complete. He was awarded the rank of *xiucai*. Delighted, he went to the capital, passed the provincial exam, and earned the rank of *juren*. After another exam, he became a *jinshi*. Soon after, an imperial decree appointed him as the magistrate of his home district. He sat in a grand palanquin, carried by eight bearers, and returned to his homeland in glory. His fortune and honor were beyond description. He had everything he could want: fresh fish and meat, silks and satins—more than he could ever use. The magistrate thought: "That little bridge was just a bundle of firewood, yet it brought me so much happiness and wealth. I’ll build a real bridge, big and wide, and see what happens." So he ordered people from across the district to come and work, every able-bodied person. Some carried pure white stone from distant mountains, while others dug the earth and widened the stream. It was spring, the time for sowing grain. There were countless guards, each with a long whip. But as the saying goes: "A hand may be large, but it cannot cover the sky; a thousand mouths cannot be silenced." The people grumbled and groaned, their hearts filled with anger, saying: "The magistrate will be our ruin! We’re building his bridge, but when will we sow our fields? It seems we’ll starve come autumn!"

The people worked on the bridge for many days, and when it was finished, they wept. The magistrate sat in his grand palanquin, carried by eight bearers, and was brought to the bridge. He stepped out, looked at the bridge, dismissed those standing nearby, and approached the stone, saying:

"Immortal, oh immortal! Look at the bridge I’ve built! What reward will you give me this time?"

The stone stirred and turned into the old man. After a moment of thought, the old man said:

"I made a vow: if one person angers a thousand, I must turn that person into a long-eared black donkey!"

With that, the old man waved his hand, and the magistrate saw a narrow, uneven road ahead, on which a black donkey walked, burdened with a heavy load that made its ears droop. The donkey trudged along, carrying its burden. The old man waved his hand again, and the donkey and the road disappeared.

The magistrate, frightened, asked:

"Is this grand bridge worse than the small one? This one is made of white stone, which rivals jade, while that one was just a bundle of firewood."

The old man replied angrily:

"I won’t explain anything to you! Think for yourself! But you’re about to turn into a hairy donkey."

Before the old man could finish speaking, the young man’s ears grew long, and his mouth stretched forward. He tried to shout, but only a donkey’s bray came out. Those who had accompanied the magistrate ran to the bridge and saw that he was gone—only a black donkey stood by the stone. They took the donkey home and later sold it to a salt merchant. From then on, the donkey was often driven across the grand bridge with heavy loads, but no one ever knew what the donkey was thinking.

↑ To the top

The Vow

More fairy tales