Yishan continued to stare, his mouth and eyes as round as the object in his hand. For once, he was completely silent.

“It’s her tear!” Pinmei stuttered. “She… she’s the Sea King’s daughter… a goddess with a fish tail… and this is… it’s… it’s…”

As she stammered, the last of the sun died away and night took its place, the flame of their lantern flickering. But the light in the room was steady and bright. For the precious stone had begun to glow a soft, serene radiance just like the moon.

“A Luminous Stone That Lights the Night!” Pinmei breathed.

CHAPTER

66

“Stonecutter!” a voice boomed.

Amah and the stonecutter flinched. The voice had roared out of the shadows, giving both the unsettling feeling they were about to be pounced upon. And when the guards emerged from the darkness, Amah felt her throat tighten. She recognized one of them as the soldier in green from so long ago—the same soldier she knew was not a soldier, any more than he was a guard now.

“I have come to see your work!” he bellowed.

The stonecutter jumped up, carrying an armful of stones to the guard. But as he brought them closer, he froze, staring at the face of the guard. The stones in his arms began to clink together as his arms trembled.

Amah quickly took some stones from the stonecutter and brought them to the guard.

“There are still many more to cut,” Amah said.

The man took one of the stones. As he inspected it, Amah wondered: Why did the emperor disguise himself as a lowly guard? Was it the only way to come to the dungeon without causing attention? But why would the emperor even wish to come to the dungeon? Was it for the stonecutter? Or was it for her?

Suddenly, he glowered at Amah. “Why do you look at me like that?” the emperor barked.

Amah lowered her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You reminded me of someone.”

“Who?” he demanded.

“Just someone in a story,” Amah said.

“A story, of course,” the emperor said with irritation. “Very well. Tell it.”

Once there was a man named Haiyi who was as strong as a dragon and bigger than an ox. But he was also as wild and as unpredictable as a tiger. When he walked down the street, villagers fled and quickly shut their doors. For Haiyi caused chaos wherever he went. Because of his great strength, he just took what he wished, and none dared oppose him. He spent his time drinking and gambling.

One night, he stumbled out of the village in a drunken daze, lifting his wine bottle to the moon.

“Am I not the greatest man who has ever lived?” he called out. “Is this not the happiest village, for I am in it?”

“If it were not for three things,” a calm, clear voice said at his knee, “this village would indeed be happy.”

Haiyi looked down, slightly dizzy, and saw an old man sitting in the light of the moon, a large book in his lap.

“It’s the Old Man of the Moon!” Haiyi boomed. “Have you come to see Haiyi, the great hero?”

“You would have to rid the village of its three evils,” the Old Man of the Moon said, “before you could be called a great hero.”

Haiyi felt his drunkenness fade as he stared into the steady black eyes of the Old Man of the Moon. “Three evils?” Haiyi asked as he sat.

“Yes,” the Old Man replied. “As I said, if it were not for the three evils plaguing the village, this village would indeed be happy.”

“What are they?” Haiyi asked.

“The first evil,” the Old Man said, “is the Bashe snake. It lives underneath the Black Bridge. When a man or beast passes him, he swallows it whole.”

Haiyi rose. “I will slay this beast,” he declared. “And then you may tell me the second evil.”

With that, he rushed to the Black Bridge. The bridge had long been abandoned, and when he finally reached it, the Bashe immediately rose from the water. It reared against the dark sky, its hideous, gaping mouth wide enough to swallow an entire elephant. Haiyi dodged the swooping jaws and dove into the river. For a moment, all was still, but then the river began to churn, bubbling with a foul odor. Finally, one enormous wave flew into the sky and crashed down again—the water scattering like shattered pieces of stone. When at last the water calmed, a bright red stain floated to the surface—growing larger until the entire river was red. And then Haiyi burst through the water, gasping. In one hand, he held his sword, and in the other, the head of the Bashe snake.

That night, Haiyi returned to the Old Man of the Moon.

“I have slain the Bashe snake,” Haiyi said. “Now there are only two evils plaguing the village.”

“The second evil,” the Old Man of the Moon said, “is the Noxious Zhen bird that lives on Northern Mountain. It drinks the venom of vipers, so its feathers are pure poison. Its blood can melt stone, and its saliva dissolves steel.”

“I will be back tomorrow to hear the third evil,” Haiyi said, and he turned toward Northern Mountain. On his way, he stopped and changed into robes of thick leather. He also took a large hide of rhinoceros, some raw meat, and a strong rope.

He climbed to the top of the mountain and waved the piece of raw meat. The Zhen bird, smelling the meat, dove at Haiyi, who quickly placed a noose around its neck. The bird screeched and flew upward, carrying Haiyi into the sky. But he refused to let go and instead pulled the noose tighter until the Zhen, unable to breathe, fell to the ground.

Haiyi, after landing on the ground himself, ran to the fallen bird. He gave the noose a final pull, breaking the bird’s neck. He then took out the rhinoceros hide, wrapped the bird inside it and burned the whole thing.

The Old Man of the Moon was waiting for him when Haiyi returned at night.

“I have destroyed the Zhen bird,” Haiyi said, “so the villagers no longer need to fear its poison.”

“Yes,” the Old Man said.

“And I killed the Bashe snake,” Haiyi said, “so the villagers can now travel on the Black Bridge safely.”

“Yes,” the Old Man said.

“So the first two evils are no longer,” Haiyi said.

“Yes,” the Old Man said. “Now there is only one evil left that plagues the village.”