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The village is named Water Village. That much, the villagers knew. But nobody was quite sure where the name came from. Of course, there are records of these things, in the county annals. But to find them, you would have to go to the city and dig through books. And the people of Water Village have little time to spend on thinking about such immaterial things. They chose to let their days pass like clouds floating by at leisure. But there was one person in the village who liked to ponder the finer details of things. That was Grandpa Yu. His children all agreed that he was exceptional. If he'd just had a bit more education when he was younger, he surely could have been someone.

He was a versatik man in the village. Not only was he skilled in all kinds of crafts, he was also an excellent and thorough farmer. He also grew flowers and trees, many different kinds, all around his house. He grew peonies, crab - apples, cape jasmine, regular jasmine, yulan magnolias, chrysanthemums, and so on. The flowers all had their own season, so his house was kept in unending bloom. The villagers liked to joke about this. To them, Grandpa Yu seemed very strange — he only grew flowers and flowering trees near his house, and planted his vegetables and other food far away up the mountain. His house looked out towards high slopes, which he had to climb whenever he wanted to go harvest food. And that is what he did, early in the morning, slowly, carrying two bamboo baskets with a pole over his shoulder, full of pig or chicken manure. By his side, a big, happy black dog. The dog would run ahead, fast as the wind, then stop suddenly, and turn to watch Grandpa Yu, torn between wanting to wait for him and wanting to press ahead on quick feet. Her body was like a strong, bent bow, always ready to be released and fly.

Grandpa Yu would shout up to her:

"Go on, don't bother waiting for me, just go and run, you mad dog!"

The dog would shake her tail to show she understood, flex her long body ready, and fly ahead up the mountain.

There was thick fir tree forest up there on the slopes, where fir mushrooms grew in the spring and autumn shade. The firs only began to thin out a little on the lower slopes, about thirty feet from the foot of the mountain. That was where Grandpa Yu had his vegetable plots.

He took his time getting up the hill. The dog reached the top long before he did. Then, she would come running back down to meet him and bounce backwards up the slope again, facing him, willing him to go faster, trying to give him some of her own overflowing energy.

"You old good - for - nothing, what are you going to pull me up the hill?"

The dog listened, tilted her head to one side and wagged her tail, her eyes bright with understanding.

While Grandpa Yu worked his plot, spreading manure or weeding with his hoe, he would sometimes talk with the black dog.

"If you were a person, you'd be an enchantress for sure, a real vixen!"

Her body was long like a sword - bean, her fur was bright like water shining darkly, and her mouth was deep red, as if by lip - stick. There were dozens of dogs in Water Village, many of them her offspring, but she was the only one that was black — the others were all either yellow, grey, or spotted. Her mothering days were over now, after eight or nine years of annual litters, but she still galloped around the place like a fresh young maid, seeking attention wherever she could find it. Grandpa Yu liked to tease her for her flirtations:

"What's got into you! You've already had the last of your pups, what do you think people will say if they see you like this? You've got your good name to think about!"

This story starts right in the middle of cabbage planting season. Grandpa Yu was already several steps ahead — his cabbages had been in the ground half a month and tender leaves were already unfolding tiny crinkles as they grew. His garlic was making good progress — if a chopstick were stuck in the earth to measure their height, their thick papery red stems would reach about halfway up. The chili peppers would soon be overdue for harvest. In a couple of days, the chili tree would be picked clean, uprooted, and its empty berth replanted with a cabbage. The villagers have a name for this kind of chili — torn - up - tree chili. Grandpa Yu had a slightly different name for it — parting - gift - garden chili, which was inspired by one of several books about artisanal painting that he read as a young man. The chilies are delicious either quick - fried or drum - roasted with beans.

Grandpa Yu moved slowly around his vegetable plots, tidying up and rearranging things here and there. Realizing he hadn't talked with the black dog for a while, he wondered where she'd got to. Looking around, he saw her sitting at the edge of the slope, gazing down at the village below. From above, Water Village looked like a boat, though no one realized that until someone came from the county town and drew a map of the village some twenty years previously. Grandpa Yu's big wooden house was at the prow of the boat, facing north. To the east of the village was the River Xu, and further east, far in the distance, looming mountains, visible only as a dark grey outline, murky contours. To the south, the mountains rose taller and taller. Somewhere in those southern mountains the crystal spring headwaters of the River Xu bubbled up in a rocky cavern. The northern mountains were gentle; at least, the ones visible from the village. Beneath them, the River Xu flowed past huge orchards of mandarin oranges, where the county town was. To the west of the village, the mountains were close. That is where the ancestors of Water Village are buried, in secluded tombs at a place called Mound of Ultimate Peace.

The people of Water Village are typically very honest about their mortality, which gives them a longer perspective on grudges and people preoccupied with winning power and position over others. They are quick to put such people back in their place with a choice word or two:

"You must think you're something special, huh? You'll be heading to the Mound of Ultimate Peace one day too, you know!"

Just the thought of their inevitable burying - place tends to take the hot air out of people.

The River Xu is contained by good, wide banks of rich blue - black sand and soil. This bank - land is fertile all year round, supporting swathes of willow interspersed with mandarin orange trees. Among the trees, the villagers grew watermelon and sugarcane, rich pickings for roving bands of village children. For them, the river bank was all - seasons paradise — from mid - autumn to winter, oranges are ripe and sugarcane is sweet. There is an art to steal sugarcane, perfected by children. The stalk must be stamped into the ground before you snap it, so that the sand can muffle the sharp crack. Young orange - thieves wrapped their hands with dry grass to stop the orange fragrance sticking to their palms and letting the secret out. But even with all this enterprise to keep them busy, there are still distractions. No one can resist the enchanting sigh of wind through the vast sugarcane fields, which can draw the soul out through your ears and leave you suspended in trance.

Of course, all these pillaged crops had owners back in the village, adults, but it was impossible to really get angry with the children. After all, everyone had children of their own, and there's a time in every child's life for a little naughtiness.

After all of that is done, the River Xu keeps on flowing, flowing all the way to the Eastern Sea, where the sun comes from in the morning. First, it joins the River Yuan, then the River Yuan pours into the Lake Dongting, then the Lake Dongting empties in the great Yangtze River, which doesn't stop until the Eastern Sea. There is no path between Water Village and the Eastern Sea, just hundreds of waters to cross and a thousand mountains stacked up thick one after another. When rivers and mountains measure the distance, the journey is truly unachievable. But by other measures, it's not so far. According to legend, a shortcut exists, in the form of a bottomless hole under a pond named Frog Pool, which lays at the foot of Deer - tweet Mountain on the bank of the River Xu. The bottomless hole goes straight down to the palace of the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea. One deep breath, dive, and you'll make it.

Frog Pool is on the east bank of the Xu River, opposite the flat beach of the west bank. Actually, the pond is part of the river, which angles deeper from the flat west bank to the deep east. Long ago, there was a dutiful and very beautiful girl who lived on the east bank. One day, she was sitting on a big black slab of rock by Frog Pool, washing clothes, when suddenly the rock turned into a turtle. The turtle plunged down into the water, carrying the girl on its back. The turtle took her to the palace of the Dragon King of the Eastern Sea, where she became the queen of the Dragon King and enjoyed eternal youth. The Dragon King knew about this girl and came up with the plan beforehand, with the turtle as his faithful servant.

Grandpa Yu often used to swim by the west bank of Frog Pool as a child, but he never once dared to swim over to the east bank. The very idea terrified him. It was funny — people would always talk about the Eastern Sea and its Dragon King, with his palace all encrusted with agate and pearls and full of his daughters, all half - dragon, all beautiful; but they never seemed to mention the Southern Sea, or Northern or Western Seas. The fable also was woven into everyday events. For example, whenever there was rain on a sunny day, that meant the Dragon King was celebrating marrying off another of his daughters. And, a popular way of expressing one's reaction to an especially happy or wonderful situation is to say:

"Ah, feels like riding in the Dragon King's carriage!"

The sea was thus a crucial part of life in Water Village, though nobody from the village had ever actually seen the sea. Most importantly, they had old customs to rely upon during times of drought, which taught them how to beg the Dragon King for rain. First, to carry out the rites, they had to be correctly dressed. Girls and boys, men and women of all ages dressed all in black dharma robes. Then they all lined up in a dragon column and marched towards the temple, incense sticks in their hands. They sang and worshiped on the road, reverent but loud, so that their noise would shake the walls of the Dragon Palace.

Another custom had to do with death. Whenever a villager died, the body had to be carried up the mountains with a special pole, carved in the shape of a dragon, complete with a dragon head. Devout sons and daughters dressed all in mourning white. It took sixteen people to carry the coffin slowly up the path, the whole procession wrapped in over a hundred feet of white cloth, so that the coffin and its bearers looked like an ethereal white boat. They had to first carry out the Buddhist rituals to ensure the dead person's soul could cross over the sea of bitterness and abyss of worldly suffering, and only then could the white funeral boat cross over to the Land of Ultimate Bliss. Grandpa Yu, in his time, painted many of the villagers' coffins. But coffins aside, he'd carved a lot of things in the village, including the latticework for his neighbors' windows. The one thing he definitely didn't carve was the pair of funerary dragon - head poles, which was far older than him. It had been in Water Village for generations, a gift from the past. It was a beautiful piece of work — eyes that threaten to burst into flames, a tail that seems always on the verge of swishing into life. It occupied a strange place in Grandpa Yu's head — he often felt like it must have been he who carved it, though he knew it was an ancient man who he didn't know. It just felt so familiar, made of nanmu ( phoebe nunmu ) wood, made to last a thousand years, no need for lacquer.

A few years ago, a buyer came from the city wanting to buy the pair of dragon - head poles, and offered tens of thousands for it. It belonged to everyone in the village, but for generations, it had been kept in the house where Grandma Hui's son, Qiangtuo, lived. His father and his grandfather before him had both guarded it there. Nobody really knew why or how this arrangement came to be, but that didn't really matter. What mattered was that everybody upheld the customs.

Word got out that Qiangtuo was thinking about selling. Grandpa Yu, furious, marched over to his house and hammered on his door:

"Qiangtuo! Get out here! If it's money you want I'll give it to you myself!"

Qiangtuo came to the door to justify himself:

"That city guy's an idiot! He's going to give us tens of thousand plus just for an old dragon - head pole! Trust me. Once I've sold it I'll make ten with the money, for the whole village!"

Grandpa Yu drew back his hand to hit the young man, but restrained himself:

"Shut your mouth! If it weren't for all those anti -superstition campaigns, I'd have you locked up in the ancestral hall for some clan discipline!"

The villagers used to keep a wooden cage in the ancestral hall. If any man in the village did or said something unfilial or improper, his family would lock him in the cage. It was designed so the buttocks of whoever was locked inside would stick out of the cage. Propped against the cage was a special bamboo rod that anyone in the village could use to beat him, whenever they felt like it. In Water Village, this was what "clan discipline" meant. Where Qiangtuo really stepped out of line was when he said he'd make ten sets of dragon head poles. He should have known that any one village could only have one set of dragon - head poles. To suggest otherwise was to invite disaster by angering the spirits. Nor was it just grandpa Yu who heard him say it — everyone in earshot spat curses in his direction, and within a few minutes the dragon - head poles were removed from his house and put behind Grandpa Yu's place. A few village lads set it up on two wooden horses and wrapped it in thick palm tree fibres. To stop rats getting at it, they tied bundles of thorns in the shape of cats to the feet of the wooden horses.

Days passed, and the weather cleared. With blue sky overhead, Grandpa Yu unwrapped the dragon - head poles, and meticulously wiped off dust that had settled on it. He marveled at the incredible qualities of nanmu — who knows how many generations' hands these poles had passed through, and it's still untouched by insects and water. And look how it shines after just dusting it with an ordinary bit of cloth rag!

Grandma Hui came over to speak with him:

"Brother Yu, I'm sorry about Qiangtuo. He has let us all down. My family looked after the dragon - head poles for so many generations, but ... Well, I was just thinking, why not give it a new coat of lacquer? I'll pay for the lacquer, and you can do the work."

Grandpa Yu, by the way, was also very skilled at applying lacquer.

He smiled wide, and shook his head.

"Ah, old sister, Water Village's dragon - head pole doesn't need any lacquer, never has, never will. It would be a pity to do so, even."

"Brother Yu, so ... you mean ... oh, I don't understand!"

He chuckled, and said:

"When my sons came home for New Year's, the year before last, I told them, 'There's a man from the city who wants to buy our dragon - head pole, and said he'd pay tens of thousands for it.' So, Wangtuo and Fatuo went out back and looked at it for a long time, and studied it. They said it was a rare treasure, a relic, and that it's definitely worth more than that man offered. They said, 'Whatever you do, don't put any oil or lacquer on it, because with relics, the older it looks, the more money it's worth!'"

Just hearing the word "money" gave Grandma Hui a fright.

"You want to sell it, too?" she asked.

Grandpa Yu laughed:

"Old sister, I wasn't surprised at all when Qiangtuo talked about selling it, but hearing it come from your mouth, I must say I'm quite shocked! What I'm saying is, I don't want to ruin our old relic! I mean, if you think about it, won't it be glorious, when Yama, King of Buddhist Hell, comes to take us, we'll be carried up the mountain on such expensive dragon - head poles! Ah, think of the honor we'll have!" d9UqSe9ETUlGtVftHL4wljhZ8PFWzTJ7QsnPCZQtLOBmXw25TjNp9BNTWS3Fmmsv