Pick One (1057 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryRating: 2 on 2 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by DrinkDDT (View user info) at 2004-04-15 20:25:54 EDT
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"The common people may be made to follow the Way, but not to understand it".
-Confucius-
Lord Zhuang's patience was reaching its end. He sat before his recently acquired council, surrounded by tension. He had arrived just yesterday as the newly appointed Magistrate in a remote district, and already he and his council, made up of the region's common elders, were at an impasse.
"Listen," he spoke slowly, "this foolish tradition of yours--I will not abide. I-".
"But this has been the way for centuries before your arrival!" Master Hui interrupted him from amongst the elders. "This will ensure our prosperity into the harvest! This-".
"THIS," Lord Zhuang screamed. His face reddened as he brought his fist down on the table top, spilling his wine. The council was silent. "This-- is exactly why noble blood has been brought to rule you commoners. But there is no end to your protests! You win, Master Hui. Tomorrow we shall hold your precious Festivial of the River. You are all petty, and ignorant. You can be governed, but not enlightened. So you win. We will proceed with your barbaric traditions."
The elders were silent as Lord Zhuang stormed from the council, his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the hall. Master Hui held a smug look of self importance upon his face as the meeting was adjourned.
()()()()()()()()()()()()
The next morning Lord Zhuang stood at the bank of the Yellow River, gazing thoughtfully into its wild current. Today marked the beginning of the region's Festival of the River. As the tradition goes, every year the Magistrate must choose someone to be sacrificed to the River God. From all the marriageable girls in the village, he was expected to choose the most beautiful one. She was to be bound and sent into the Yellow River on a flimsy raft to drown.
Lord Zhuang abhorred the superstition, he abhorred the tradition. He wanted to show the people for whom he was responsible to govern that the annual sacrifice was a hateful, brutish tradition.
Lord Zhuang took a deep breath of cool morning air before turning his back on the River. He observed the fairgrounds surrounding the bank, and sighed.
It was a festive affair. Colorful tents and banners adorned the entire venue. There was to be singing, dancing, eating, and drinking to honor the River God and the prosperity He was to bestow upon the land. But, as it did every year, the day's festivities were to culminate in the death of an unfortunate young girl.
Soon, someone would not be feeling very festive.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()
The Sun's control of the sky was waning, the festival was ending. It was time to pick one.
Lord Zhuang stood solemnly with his hands clasped behind his back as more than twenty women were lined up in front of him. Some of them stood bravely, while some wept silently. The entire village was gathered around, silently awaiting the Magistrate's decision.
Once the women were all assembled, Lord Zhuang stepped forward. He started at one end and slowly walked to the other, looking each women directly in the eyes. Occasionally he would stop, stare at a woman intently, and then move on. Three times he paced to one end of the line and back to the other, all the while scrutenizing each candidate with a stern eye.
The villagers were deathly silent.
Finally Lord Zhuang stopped in front of a young woman in an expensive white gown. His eyes moved from her feet to her face. She was elgant and dainty. Her hair was the darkest shade of black, complimented by her smooth, fair skin. Lord Zhuang looked into her brave, unblinking eyes and found no end to their mystery. He was at peace within her gaze for a long moment. Suddenly he blink as if waking from a dream.
"This woman is not beautiful enough for the River God!" he proclaimed. "None of them are."
Lord Zhuang shifted his gaze to the crowd of bewildered villagers. He scanned the crowd until he found a familiar, smug look of arrogance staring back at him. "You!" he pointed at Master Hui. "You must go in the boat instead. You shall convey our deepest sorrow to the River God for this most regrettable situation."
The crowd gasped. The Magistrate was a nobleman, and his decree was law. No one dared to object.
Oddly enough, there was no Festival of the River the following year.
User Reviews
Submitted by chipolatte (user info) at 2004-05-19 19:22:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
haha
Submitted by Razor (user info) at 2004-05-19 17:40:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
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