Long ago, in a little village by the Min River, there lived a little boy called Wen P’eng and his widowed mother.

In the same village, in the biggest and grandest house, there lived a rich and cruel man. This man owned all the land for miles around, and made all the poor people of the village work in his fields for little more than a handful of rice every year.  In addition to being very rich, this man was cruel and wicked as well. He would punish ruthlessly, and sometimes even kill, any person who disobeyed him. Everyone in the village was terrified of him. They began to call him ‘Black Tiger’ because of his evil and vicious ways.

Wen P’eng’s father had been killed by Black Tiger a few years ago, and now the boy and his mother were very poor. Wen P’eng was still too young to work in the fields, so he would go fishing every day. He would sell the fish he caught in the village, and he and his mother survived on the few coins he would thus earn.

On some days it would happen that Wen P’eng would sit by the river from dawn to dusk, and still catch nothing. On such days he and his mother would go to bed hungry.

One day, Wen P’eng had been sitting by the river all day and had not caught a single fish. It began to grow dark, and the little boy decided to go home. Just then he felt a pull at his line. Wen P’eng tried to draw in his line, but he couldn’t. He pulled and he pulled with all his strength, and just as he was on the point of giving up, out came the fish.

It was the most beautiful fish he had ever seen. Its scales were made of purest gold, and gleamed and glittered so brightly that Wen P’eng had to shut his eyes against the dazzle. ‘This fish should fetch a good price in the village,’ said Wen P’eng aloud, pleased that tonight he would be able to take home extra money for his mother. But just then the fish wriggled its tail and began speaking in a human voice.

‘Wen P’eng,’ said the fish. ‘Please do not kill me. Let me go and I will reward you richly.’

Wen P’eng looked at the fish hanging at the end of his line and sighed. ‘I couldn’t kill such a beautiful creature,’ he thought, and he threw the fish back into the water. Sadly, the little boy began to wind up his line, knowing that once again he and his mother would have nothing to eat that night.

But suddenly,  the fish raised its head above the water, and swimming to the riverbank, dropped a large pearl at the boy’s feet and said, ‘Take good care of this pearl, Wen P’eng, and from now you shall have plenty of everything.’ Before Wen P’eng could say a word, the fish vanished into the river.

Wen P’eng took the pearl home and gave it to his mother. ‘Oh, dear Wen P’eng,’ cried his mother in despair. ‘What are we going to do with this pearl? We cannot eat it, and if we try to sell it, people will think we stole it.’ In fear and frustration, his mother threw the pearl into a corner of the room. The pearl fell into the rice bin, in which there remained a few grains of rice.

‘We have nothing to eat tonight, my son,’ wept Wen P’eng’s mother. ‘It would have been better had you sold the golden fish. At least I could have bought some rice to feed you with.’ The woman rose and went to the rice bin to scrape together the few grains of rice that remained. ‘Perhaps I can cook them into a broth for my boy,’ she thought. But instead of the empty bin, what did she see? The bin was full to the top with fine white rice and overflowing with it!

‘Wen P’eng,’ cried the mother in excitement. ‘I think your pearl is magic!’ And she picked up the pearl and put it into her little sack of money, which contained only a few copper coins. All at once the bag began to fill with money, till it was full to the top with shining coins.

Now Wen P’eng and his mother had plenty of everything and lacked for nothing. But Wen P’eng continued to work as hard as before and would go fishing every day just as he used to.

One day, while Wen P’eng was away by the river, Black Tiger’s wife came to pay a visit to his mother. Black Tiger’s wife was as cruel and as greedy as her husband. She had noticed that Wen P’eng and his mother no longer looked as though they were starving, and that they had new clothes to wear and money to spend in the market. She wanted to know the source of their well-being, and had come to find out.

‘I know that you and your son are thieves,’ said Black Tiger’s wife to Wen P’eng’s mother.

‘Of course not,’ cried Wen P’eng’s mother in horror. ‘My son and I are honest people! We’ve never taken anything that doesn’t belong to us!’

‘Well, then how do you explain the fact that suddenly you seem to have enough food to eat and new clothes to wear and money to spend in the market? Till yesterday you were starving!’

Wen P’eng’s mother looked worried. ‘We’ve just been fortunate,’ she said. She did not want to tell Black Tiger’s wife the truth, but she was frightened of being called a thief.

‘Fortunate! What nonsense!’ cried Black Tiger’s wife. ‘Since when is a peasant fortunate? You are a thief, and so is that precious son of yours, and I will make sure that my husband hears all about it!’

‘Oh no, please, not that!’ cried Wen P’eng’s mother in fright. ‘Please don’t say anything to your husband. I will tell you the truth.’ And the poor, frightened woman poured out the entire story of the fish and the magic pearl to Black Tiger’s wife.

Black Tiger’s wife listened amazed. ‘I must have that pearl!’ she thought to herself. And off she ran to her husband and told him the whole story.

Meanwhile Wen P’eng returned home after the day’s fishing. He found his mother weeping. ‘Oh, my son,’ cried the woman. ‘We are undone! Black Tiger’s wife knows our secret and I’m afraid her husband will soon be here to demand our pearl!’

Wen P’eng turned pale with worry.

Just then there was a loud hammering on the door. The Black Tiger and his bailiffs stood outside.

‘Give me the pearl!’ commanded Black Tiger. ‘Peasants like you have no right to own such a magical thing!’ But Wen P’eng stood still and silent, and his mother wept tears of worry and fright.

‘Search the house!’ then ordered Black Tiger. His men turned the house upside down but they could not find the pearl. And all the while Wen P’eng stood still and silent, and his mother wept tears of worry and fright.

‘Where have you hidden the pearl?’ growled Black Tiger, taking Wen P’eng by the throat and shaking him hard. ‘Answer or I shall drag you before the judge and call you a thief to all the world!’ But Wen P’eng said not a word.

At last, Black Tiger left, cursing and threatening.

Wen P’eng’s mother ran to her son who still stood silent, but with a most peculiar expression on his face.

‘Oh, Wen P’eng,’ she cried. ‘What is wrong with you? You have such a strange look on your face!’

‘Oh, Mother,’ gasped Wen P’eng. ‘I was holding the pearl in my mouth and I swallowed it when Black Tiger shook me! I cannot breathe and my heart is beating as though it would burst!’

‘Oh, my child,’ cried the mother. ‘What can I do to help you? That pearl was magic – goodness knows what effect it will have on you!’

And Wen P’eng answered, ‘Oh, Mother, give me some water. I am terribly thirsty.’

The mother ran and fetched him some water. But Wen P’eng cried, ‘This thirst is terrible. I cannot bear it. I must go down to the river.’ The boy turned and ran towards the river, his mother running after him and weeping as she ran.

Wen P’eng reached the river, and flinging himself into the water drank and drank, till the river was almost empty. Suddenly the sky became overcast, lightning flashed, thunder rolled and a sharp wind began to blow.

Wen P’eng’s mother looked at her son, and screamed in fear – there, before her eyes, her beloved son was slowly turning into a dragon!

‘My son! My child!’ shrieked the woman, and jumping into the river, grabbed Wen P’eng by his foot. But she could not stop the pearl’s magic. Her son turned into a dragon, all except for one foot, the foot that she had been holding.

 ‘I must go, Mother,’ whispered the dragon sadly. ‘I cannot stay with you any longer.’

‘Don’t leave me, child,’ wept the mother. ‘I cannot live without you!’

‘I cannot help it, Mother,’ sighed the dragon. ‘Something more powerful than me is pulling me away from you!’

Slowly, the dragon rose into the air, his great wings outspread, the scales on his body shining gold and red.

‘Look back at me, my son!’ called the woman. ‘Look at me once more before you go!’

The dragon heard his mother and looked back, twisting and turning his great body in anguish, and a tear rolled from his eye and fell beside the river.

‘My son, look back once more!’ begged the woman.

The dragon looked back again, and one more tear dropped from his eye beside the river.

Twenty-four times did the mother call to her son to look back, and twenty-four times did the dragon turn around, twisting and turning, in torment with the pain of parting, dropping twenty-four tears beside the river.

And that is why, people say, the Min River twists and turns on itself twenty-four times, as though in anguish too great to be borne, and which is why within each bend of the river there nestles a lake, like a teardrop.