"Country folk had never seen anything like it. They were all stunned, until someone cried out that this was a gift from the Water Lord, who pitied us poor wretches. Then everyone rushed forward like madmen to grab the treasures. When their pockets were full, they took off their clothes and used them to carry more."
"But not everyone lost their heads. Some of the village elders tried to stop the others, saying they weren't blessed enough to enjoy such things, and that this was a bad omen. Perhaps the Water Lord was lonely at the bottom of the lake and wanted people to keep him company. Those treasures were payment for their lives!"
"But you can't talk sense into someone bent on their own destruction. Some people ignored the elders' earnest warnings completely. They'd been poor for too long; they'd never seen so many fine things. They'd earned more that night than they could in a lifetime of fishing."
"When the elders saw they couldn't stop them, they hardened their hearts and washed their hands of it. What you don't see can't trouble you. With others supporting them, they went home."
"Then, early the next morning, before it was even fully light, someone knocked on the door—or rather, pounded on it. When the door opened, several women rushed inside."
"The women were weeping bitterly, their eyes red and swollen. They said something terrible had happened: the men of their households had all gone missing."
"When they woke that morning, the people who should have been sleeping beside them were gone."
"The elder threw on a coat and first told them not to panic. He'd watched the village's younger generation grow up and knew what they were like, so he asked if the men had been greedy and secretly gone