At thirteen, her youth had just begun to bloom. Her figure was already like green bamboo beneath the wind, her beauty impossible to describe. Her fame spread through the surrounding tribes like a sparrow darting over a spring stream. The young men of her own tribe lingered outside the settlement every day, hoping only to win a glance and a smile from her; youths from other tribes crossed mountains and ridges to come, all vying to carry her back to their settlements. But in those days, the mother's line ruled, no one knew what a father's line was, marriages had no formal rites, and the family order had yet to be established. Feelings raged like wildfire across the wilderness, yet had nowhere to go.
Unable to endure the disturbance, the elders declared before all: Whoever could slay the flood dragon infesting the depths of the great river could marry Chang'e. As it happened, that great river had long been occupied by a black-scaled Flood Dragon. It summoned wind and waves, swallowed boats and devoured people, could not be wounded by blades, and could not be pierced by arrows. Over the years, countless brave warriors had sunk into the depths, their white bones buried beneath the sand, never to return.
Though countless valiant men had ventured forth to face death, they had ultimately shed their blood into the turbid waters, leaving no trace. Year after year, Chang'e grew ever more dazzlingly beautiful, every gesture naturally graceful, yet the Flood Dragon still coiled beneath the water, and no one could shake it in the slightest.
That day, she wore the tribe's most precious red fox-fur cloak and sat barefoot beneath the old cassia tree, both feet immersed in the clear, shallow stream. Her toes lightly stirred the surface, sending rings of tiny