Explore Chapter 1 of '故事新编' with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
She seemed to have been startled from a dream, though she could no longer remember what it was. She was left with a vague vexation, a sense of lack and yet of surfeit. The stirring, lukewarm breeze blew and scattered her strength, filling the cosmos with it.
In the pink sky, many meandering, stone-green clouds drifted. Behind them, stars winked on and off. Amid the blood-red clouds at the horizon blazed a dazzling sun, like a molten golden ball swimming in primeval lava; opposite hung a moon, cold and white as cast iron. Yet she paid no heed to which was setting and which was rising.
The earth was tender green; even the pine and cypress, which seldom renew their leaves, looked exceptionally fresh. Peach-red and bluish-white flowers, large as bushels, were distinct nearby but melted into a shimmering haze in the distance.
"Ah! Never have I felt so weary and purposeless!" she thought, and suddenly stood up. Lifting her gloriously rounded, energy-brimming arms, she gave a mighty stretch and yawn toward the heavens. At once, the sky lost its color, turning a strange, fleshy red, and for a moment her whereabouts were utterly lost.
She walked to the sea within this flesh-red world. Her body's curves dissolved into a luminous sea of pale rose, coalescing into a band of pure white only at her torso. The waves, astonished, rose and fell in orderly rhythm, yet their spray dashed upon her. This pure white reflection wavered in the water as if about to scatter in all directions. But she did not see it. Unconsciously, she knelt on one knee, reached out, and scooped up a handful of water-softened clay. After kneading it several times, there in her hands was a little creature, very like herself.
"Ah! Ah!" Though she believed she had made it, she also suspected it might have been lurking in the earth like a sweet potato. She could not help but be astonished.
"Uvu, Ahaha!" they laughed. This was the first laughter she had witnessed between heaven and earth, and so for the first time, she herself laughed, unable to close her lips.
As she caressed them, she continued making more. The newly made ones circled her, but gradually they wandered farther, chattering more. She understood less and less, hearing only a clamorous din by her ears that made her dizzy.
Amid this prolonged joy, she had grown weary. She had almost spent her breath and her sweat, and felt dizzy. Her eyes grew dim, her cheeks flushed with heat. She grew indifferent and impatient. Yet her hands did not cease, moving on unconsciously.
Finally, the ache in her waist and legs forced her to stand. Leaning against a smooth high mountain, she looked up. The sky was filled with fish-scale clouds; below was a dark, heavy mass of lush green. She knew not why, but felt thoroughly dissatisfied. Impatiently, she reached out, grabbed at random, and pulled up a wisteria vine that grew from the mountain to the sky's edge, its clusters blooming with ineffably large purple flowers. With a sweep of her arm, she flung the vine across the ground, scattering half-purple, half-white petals everywhere.
With another wave, the wisteria flipped in the mud and water, splashing out a mixture. Where it landed, it became many little creatures like those before, only most dull-witted and repulsive with pinched, rat-like faces. But she had no leisure for this. She felt only a mix of amusement and irritation and, with mischief, kept hurling her arm round, faster and faster. The vine rolled on, slathered in mud and water as it went, lashing about like a red-banded snake scalded by boiling water. Mud droplets flew from it like a rainstorm, and while still airborne, became wailing little creatures, crawling and scattering everywhere.
She was nearly in a trance, hurling her arm even more wildly. But not only her waist and legs ached; both arms grew weak. So she involuntarily squatted, leaned her head against the high mountain, her jet-black hair spilling over the summit. After catching her breath, she sighed and closed her eyes. The wisteria slipped from her hand and lay limply on the ground, as if utterly spent.
Amid this cataclysmic sound, Nüwa jolted awake and began sliding straight down southeast. She stretched a foot for purchase but found nothing. Hastily, she flung out an arm and grabbed a mountain peak, thus arresting her slide.
But then she felt water, sand, and stones rolling over her from behind. Turning slightly, she got a mouthful and two earfuls of water. She quickly lowered her head to see the ground shaking unceasingly. Fortunately, the shaking soon seemed to subside. Shifting back, she sat firmly, freed a hand to wipe her brow and eyes, and peered carefully to see what had happened.
The scene was unclear. Everywhere flowed water like waterfalls; it was probably the sea, with sharp waves rearing up in several places. She could only wait in a daze.
But finally, a great calm settled. The waves were no higher than former mountains, and where land seemed to be, jagged rocky bones were exposed. Gazing out to sea, she saw several mountains rushing towards her, spinning amidst the waves. Fearing they might strike her feet, she reached out and gathered them up. Peering into the hollows, she saw many unseen creatures crouching.
She withdrew her hand, pulling the mountains close for a careful look. The ground beside those creatures was littered with vomit, seemingly powdered gold and jade mixed with chewed pine needles and fish meat. They slowly raised their heads one after another. Nüwa stared wide-eyed, and only with difficulty realized these were her earlier creations, now bizarrely wrapped in something. Several had snow-white hair on their lower faces, though stuck flat by seawater like pointed poplar leaves.
"Exalted Immortal, save us..." One with white hair on his lower face lifted his head, vomiting intermittently as he spoke, "Save us... Your servants... are disciples of the immortal arts. Who foresaw the advent of the kalpa of destruction, heaven and earth rent asunder?... Now, fortunately... we meet the Exalted Immortal... Please save our ant-like lives... and bestow the elixir of immortality..." He then began to bob his head up and down in a peculiar motion.
Many of them began speaking too, similarly vomiting and clamoring "Exalted Immortal! Exalted Immortal!" before making the same motions. Annoyed by their din, she regretted pulling the mountains, for it had somehow brought this inexplicable calamity. With no recourse, she looked around and saw a school of giant turtles sporting on the waves. Overjoyed by this unexpected sight, she immediately placed the mountains on their backs, instructing, "Carry these to a steadier place for me!" The turtles seemed to nod and swam away in formation. However, from pulling too fiercely, one white-bearded fellow had tumbled off. Unable to catch up and unable to swim, he lay by the shore slapping his own face. This did stir a flicker of pity in Nüwa, yet she paid no further heed, for she truly had no time for such matters.
She let out a breath, feeling somewhat relieved. Turning her gaze to her immediate surroundings, she saw the flowing water had receded considerably, revealing broad patches of earth and stone everywhere. In the stone crevices were embedded many things, some stiff and unmoving, others still stirring. She glimpsed one staring blankly at her with white-rimed eyes. It was clad mostly in iron plates, its expression one of disappointment and fear.
"Alas, heaven has sent down calamity," that one said mournfully. "Zhuanxu, lacking the Way, resisted our sovereign. Our sovereign in person executed Heaven's chastisement, battling in the suburbs, yet Heaven did not bless virtue, and our troops were forced to retreat..."
"Our troops retreated. Thereupon our sovereign struck Mount Buzhou with his head, shattering the pillars of heaven and severing the cords of earth. Our sovereign also perished. Alas, this truly is..."
"What is this about?" Only now did she realize these little creatures could assume such different expressions, so she hoped to elicit a different, comprehensible answer.
"Human hearts are not as of old. Kang Hui indeed possessed the heart of a swine, coveting the Celestial Throne. Our sovereign in person executed Heaven's chastisement, battling in the suburbs. Heaven did bless virtue; our troops fought invincibly and smote Kang Hui at Mount Buzhou."
"Enough! The same story again!" Furious, a flush spread instantly from her cheeks to the roots of her ears. She swiftly turned her back and searched about. Finally, with difficulty, she spotted one not clad in iron, its body utterly naked, wounds still bleeding, though a tattered cloth was wrapped around its waist. It was unfastening that very cloth from another stiff figure and hastily tying it around its own waist, yet its expression remained quite calm.
Nüwa drew in a sharp, cold breath and simultaneously raised her face to look at the sky. A great crack split the sky, immensely deep and wide. She stood up, reached out, and flicked the edge with a fingernail. It gave a dull, muffled sound, little different from the clink of a cracked bowl. Frowning, she surveyed her surroundings, thought for a moment, then wrung the water from her hair, parted it over her left and right shoulders, and mustered her strength to pull reeds from all around: she had settled on the plan to "mend it first and talk later."
Only when the reed pile reached the crack did she go search for blue stones. She had originally intended to use pure azure stones the color of the sky, but there were not enough on the ground, and she was reluctant to use the great mountains. Sometimes she went to bustling spots to gather scraps, but those she saw would sneer, curse, snatch them back, or even bite her hand. So she had to mix in some white stones. When even that was not enough, she supplemented with red, yellow, and gray-black ones. Later, she managed to fill the crack passably. All that was needed was a spark to melt it, and the task would be complete. Yet she was exhausted to the point of blurred vision and ringing ears, unable to hold on any longer.
"Ah! Never have I felt so weary and purposeless," she said, sitting on a mountaintop, her head cradled in her hands, gasping for breath.
She lowered her eyes to look. It was, as usual, one of her earlier creations, yet even stranger. It was hung all over with what seemed like cloth, layer upon drooping layer, with a dozen extra strips格外 at its waist. Its head was also covered with something unknown, topped by a small, black rectangular board. In its hand was an object-this was what had pricked her toe.
The one with the rectangular board on its head stood right between Nüwa's legs looking upward. Seeing her glance down, it hastily handed the small object up to her. She took it and looked: it was a very smooth green bamboo slip, upon which were two rows of fine black dots, much smaller than the black spots on an oak leaf. She could not help but admire the exquisite skill of this work.
Nüwa glared at the little board, then secretly laughed at herself for asking such a preposterous question. She already knew that conversation with such beings was, as a rule, futile. So she said no more, casually placed the bamboo slip back on the board atop its head, turned, and pulled a burning tree from the fiery forest to set the reed pile alight.
Suddenly, she heard a sobbing sound-another thing unheard of before. She glanced down once more and saw, in the small eyes beneath the board, two tears smaller than mustard seeds. Because this was so different from the "nga nga" cries she was accustomed to, she did not even recognize it as a form of weeping.
The fire was not fierce, for the reeds were not dry, but they still managed a crackling roar. After a long, long time, countless tongues of flame finally stretched out, licking upward, extending and retracting. After another long while, they merged into layered blossoms of flame, and then into a pillar of fire, its majestic glare overpowering the red glow of the Kunlun Mountains. A great wind suddenly arose. The fire pillar whirled and roared. The blue and motley stones all turned uniformly red, flowing like malt sugar into the fissure, like an undying streak of lightning.
The wind and flames whipped her hair into wild disarray and sent it spinning. Sweat poured like a waterfall. The great blaze backlit her form, casting the universe in a final flush of flesh-red.
Gradually, the fire pillar ascended, leaving only a heap of reed ash. When the sky had turned a uniform azure, she reached out to touch it. Her fingertips detected a distinct unevenness.
She then bent over to scoop up the reed ash, filling it handful by handful into the great waters on the ground. The ash, not yet cool, made the water hiss and seethe. The ashen water splashed all over her body. The great wind refused to cease, pelting her with ash until she was the color of dust.
At the horizon, amid blood-red clouds, blazed a dazzling sun, like a molten golden ball swimming in primeval lava; opposite hung a moon, cold and white as cast iron. But it was unknown which was setting and which was rising. Now, her body, having spent itself utterly, lay down between them and breathed no more.
One day, the weather was bitterly cold, yet a clamor was heard. The Imperial Guard had finally fought their way there, for they had waited until neither flames nor smoke were visible, hence their late arrival. On their left a yellow axe, on their right a black axe, behind them an immense and ancient banner, they advanced stealthily to the side of Nüwa's corpse, yet detected no movement. They then made camp upon the corpse's belly, for that spot was most fertile-they were quite shrewd in selecting such matters. Yet they suddenly changed their tune, claiming that they alone were the true, direct descendants of Nüwa. Simultaneously, they altered the tadpole script on the great banner to read: "The Bowels of Nüwa."
The old Taoist who had landed on the coast passed his knowledge through countless generations. On his deathbed, he finally imparted the crucial news about the immortal mountains being carried out to sea by giant turtles to his disciple, who in turn passed it to his disciple's disciple. Later, an alchemist, hoping to curry favor, actually reported it to the First Emperor of Qin, who then ordered the alchemist to go and search.
The giant turtles most likely had not understood Nüwa's words; they had merely nodded by chance that time. After vaguely carrying their burden for a stretch, they all dispersed to sleep, and the immortal mountains sank along with them. Thus, to this very day, no one has ever seen so much as half an immortal mountain. At most, nothing more than the discovery of a few barbarous isles.