Chapter Fourteen: The Maiden of the Jade Pool

After dusk, the night descended upon the small fishing village by the sea like a vast black shroud. Aside from a few scattered lights, the village was swallowed in darkness, occasionally punctuated by the distant barking of a dog.

Inside the modest hut where Li Sanjian and his mother lived, a single oil lamp flickered faintly, casting a dim, uncertain glow. Fu Ernian sat before a battered loom, spinning thread. Every now and then, as she worked, she would lift her head to glance at Li Sanjian, who was bent over his books, reading diligently by the meager light.

This lamp was the only one in the house, a relic left by Li Sanjian’s father, Li Qing. The lamp burned pine resin, for candles, the best means of illumination, were far beyond their means—especially for a family as poor as theirs. Even animal or vegetable oils were luxuries they could not afford. Pine resin, their sole option, burned with heavy smoke, filling the air with thick soot that made Li Sanjian cough incessantly and stung his eyes until he could barely keep them open. The words on the page blurred before him.

“Sanjian, that’s enough for today. Get some rest,” Fu Ernian said, seeing how uncomfortable he was.

“Yes, Mother.” Li Sanjian closed his book. “You should rest early too. Don’t wear yourself out.”

“I’m fine,” Fu Ernian replied, rising to pinch out the lamp’s flame before returning to her spinning. “I’ve long since gotten used to working without a light. I can spin just as well in the dark.”

“Mother…” The words caught in Li Sanjian’s throat. He walked over, placed his hand on the old loom, and, unable to speak, began to weep silently.

He knew better than anyone how much depended on his mother, both inside and outside their home. For a woman alone, life was unimaginably hard. He bitterly regretted that he could do so little to help. Now, studying with Master Su Shi required brush, ink, paper, and inkstone—none of which came free. Even with some support from Su Shi and his grandfather, it was never enough. They too were impoverished.

To allow her son to study in peace, Fu Ernian spent her days combing the shore for shells and clams to exchange for essentials at the market. At night, she spun thread to supplement their income, often working late into the night without rest. The thought filled Li Sanjian with unspeakable sadness.

“Sanjian, what’s the matter?” Through the faint starlight, Fu Ernian saw tears glistening on her son’s face. She drew him into her arms. “You’re a good child. I know you care for your mother. But your most important task right now is to study. If you devote yourself to your books, no matter how hard or tiring it is for me, I am content. In truth, I feel happier than ever.”

Of her three children, Fu Ernian had lost two. All her hope and affection were poured into her only surviving son, Li Sanjian. Even when he was a simple-minded child, her love for him had been undiminished, though she often despaired. Now that he had suddenly grown clever and studious, her joy knew no bounds. Though her days were still filled with labor, hope had replaced the hopelessness in her heart.

“Mother, I promise you—I will one day give you a life of honor and comfort,” Li Sanjian declared, leaning against her.

Fu Ernian laughed gently. “Silly child. I don’t wish for any grand life. All I hope is that you make something of yourself, that you conduct yourself with dignity and earn the respect of others—just like your father did. And perhaps, when you’re grown, you’ll marry and give me a grandchild to hold. That would be enough to fulfill me.”

“Mother…” Li Sanjian hesitated. “There’s something I’m not sure I should say…”

“Speak your mind, Sanjian. What can’t you say to your own mother?” she replied.

“It’s about the marriage my father arranged for me. Given our circumstances, won’t they look down on us? Perhaps it would be better to forget the whole thing,” Li Sanjian said awkwardly.

Through Fu Ernian, Li Sanjian had learned something of his father’s betrothal arrangement with a prominent family. Even if he were to present himself, they would surely despise him, perhaps even drive him and his mother away. The thought filled him with reluctance. Better to let it go than to invite such humiliation.

“Nonsense,” Fu Ernian said sternly. “Your father always said, ‘A man without integrity cannot stand in the world.’ Whether they look down on us is their affair. We have only to keep our promise.”

“Yes, Mother, I understand,” Li Sanjian replied quickly. “But truly, I often think—a man needn’t fear being without a wife. Someday, I’ll find you a whole crowd of daughters-in-law…”

Fu Ernian couldn’t help laughing and crying at once. “You… really! In our situation, securing even one marriage is a blessing from the ancestors, and you’re talking about a crowd?”

“Well, so long as you’re capable, I won’t object,” she teased. “Now, get some rest. You must rise early tomorrow to see Master Su.”

“Mother, there’s one more thing I need to tell you,” Li Sanjian said.

“What is it? Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Fu Ernian asked.

“Very well, I’ll tell you tomorrow,” he agreed.

“You rest early too…” With his mother’s care, Li Sanjian lay down and soon closed his eyes, drifting into sleep.

…

Drip, drip.

Two clear mountain springs—one high, one low, sometimes quick, sometimes slow—fell from above, making music as they splashed into a pool of pure, emerald water. Each drop sent up a spray of crystal beads, clustering and scattering, sparkling like pearls from the Southern Sea. A faint mist hovered above the spring, veiling it in gentle warmth.

Suddenly, Li Sanjian found himself in a place he had never seen before—a mysterious gorge thick with jungle. Strange mountains and waterfalls crisscrossed the landscape, and between them lay a clear spring. The water tinkled melodiously as it fell into the pool below.

It was a place of rare beauty, like a paradise on earth.

But what astonished Li Sanjian most was the sight of something—or rather, someone—within the spring. Peering closer, he saw it was not an object at all, but a woman. She was naked, frolicking in the crystal water.

Startled, Li Sanjian dropped to the ground and dared a furtive glance. The woman was tall, her long black hair cascading over her fair shoulders. Her bare back glistened above the surface. She turned slightly, revealing a face of breathtaking beauty—arched brows, sometimes playful, sometimes pensive; a delicate nose; and lips curved in a faint, cherry-blossom smile.

Her hands were slender and graceful, her skin smooth as jade.

She sighed softly, lifting her right hand to caress her snowy shoulder.

Li Sanjian’s heart pounded. He shifted, trying to stand for a better look, but his foot slipped, making a faint noise.

“Who’s there?” the woman cried, her voice sharp. In an instant, the sky changed—dark clouds rolled in, gathering above Li Sanjian’s head.

The woman leapt from the water and vanished without a trace.

Panic-stricken, Li Sanjian stumbled backward, desperate to escape. But his feet slid out from under him, and he fell to the ground.

As he struggled to his feet, he sensed something overhead. Looking up, he saw a woman in white gauze floating in midair, regarding him with a cold gaze.

At last, he could see her clearly: her hair was arranged in an elegant cloud-bun, her figure graceful and supple, her slender waist barely encircled by his hands. The smoothness of her skin glimmered beneath the sheer fabric.

Li Sanjian had never seen such a beautiful woman; he stared, dumbstruck, unable to speak.

“Still gawking?” she scolded, raising her hand. A magnificent, multicolored dragon surged toward him, jaws agape.

The dragon opened its blood-red mouth, ready to swallow him whole.

By now, Li Sanjian had no mind to admire beauty. He let out a cry and bolted, stumbling as he ran. The ground was slippery at the water’s edge, and he tumbled headlong to the bank, groaning as he struggled to rise.

What kind of being was this? Surely not human—perhaps spirit, perhaps monster. Li Sanjian despaired.

The woman, seeing his wretched state, let out a silvery laugh, covering her mouth. “You’re young, so I’ll let you off this time. But you must never speak of what happened today to anyone.”

With that, she waved her hand, drifting away into the sky and vanishing in an instant.

As she did, Li Sanjian noticed five red marks, each the size of a soybean, arranged like a plum blossom on her wrist.

“A celestial being…” Li Sanjian called after her, “May I know your honored name?”

“Scoundrel! Say another word and I’ll take your life!” Her voice echoed from above, ethereal as music from heaven.

“Don’t go, goddess! I want to learn too…” Li Sanjian waved his arms and shouted at the sky.

Suddenly, black clouds descended, enveloping him. Li Sanjian struggled desperately, but all was darkness.

To the north—the goddess had flown north…