The Grand Horse Race Begins

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The grand horse race was about to begin. The beautiful and lively Malong Grassland was filled with a festive atmosphere. The cuckoos were singing, the larks were chirping, the sky was as blue as a sapphire, and the clouds were as white as silk. The flowers bloomed red, the grass turned green, and the grassland seemed even more expansive than usual.

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The Datang Chamao gathering site was packed with people, as crowded as a sea of heads. Young girls wore their most beloved dresses—ones they rarely wore—and laughed, played, and chased each other like blooming flowers. Even the elderly fathers and mothers, who usually walked hunched over, wore brand-new clothes, stood tall with cheerful smiles, and reminisced about their youthful days, suddenly looking much younger. However, the most eye-catching figures at the event were the heroes and warriors participating in the horse race.

 

Look! Leading the group was the eldest son of the Sewa Ba family of the Upper Ridge, accompanied by his nine brothers. They were like fierce tigers descending from the mountains. All the brothers wore yellow silk robes and rode horses with yellow saddles. Under the sunlight, they looked luxurious and dazzling.

 

Next was the Wenbu family of the Middle Ridge, led by their eight great heroes. They were like snow falling to the ground, their white silk robes and white saddles gleaming like silver under the sun.

 

Then came the Mujian family of the Lower Ridge, led by their seven warriors. They were like a stormy sky filled with rain clouds. Their dark blue silk robes and blue saddles shone like crystal under the sunlight.

 

Beyond them were the warriors of the Right Wing, the Left Wing, and the eighteen tribes of Darong, including the Darwu Mutso Mabu Tribe, the wealthy Jialuo family, and the Yinshan and Yangshan regions of the Danma Valley. Everyone wore colorful silk robes and saddles, and everyone was full of pride and ambition.

 

No one doubted their chances of victory, and no one thought they wouldn't claim the throne. Each prayed to the gods, firmly believing that the gods would favor them. Look at Darong's leader, King Chao Tong, along with his son Dongzan and the warriors of the eighteen Darong tribes. They held their heads high, confident in their victory. To them, the prophecy of the horse race was a divine revelation from the Horse-Headed King to Chao Tong. They believed the gods were protecting them. With the Yuja horse, the fastest horse in Ling Gabu, they thought no other horse could surpass it. The Darong tribe had already claimed the throne in their hearts, considering the race a mere formality.

 

The Rival Lineages and Joru’s Arrival

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The elder brothers of the Long lineage, who belonged to the senior branch of the family, believed they couldn’t let their status as the first branch be diminished. They thought, “If the gods are just, they will grant the throne to the senior branch.” Full of confidence, they prepared themselves with great excitement.

 

The brothers of the Zhong lineage, who were part of the middle branch, felt that they had been overlooked in the past. They saw this horse race as a chance to claim the throne and bring honor to their branch. The eight great heroes of the Zhong lineage had trained their horses until their coats gleamed like polished jade, ready to run across the grass like the wind.

 

As for the youngest branch, led by Steward Wang Rongchacha, they were confident in their destiny despite their lower standing. Steward Wang often recalled the prophecy made twelve years ago by Padma Totreng, which stated that this horse race was meant for Joru to win. He believed that Joru was destined to ascend the throne honorably. They didn’t believe in Chao Tong’s prophecy about the Horse-Headed King, nor did they boast and shout like Chao Tong and Dongzan. Unlike the senior and middle branches, who were vain and competitive, they quietly prepared, confident that the throne belonged to their branch and that only Joru was worthy of marrying Zumu as queen.

 

But where was Joru? Why hadn’t he arrived yet? Steward Wang and Jiacha scanned the area anxiously, and the brothers of Qiongju also searched nervously for Joru.

 

“Joru is here!” someone in the crowd called out. The crowd stirred with excitement. Finally, someone had appeared who could rival Dongzan and the Yuja horse.

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Zumu joined her sisters, secretly delighted. She thought, “The Joru appearing before everyone today will no longer be the poor boy of the past but a noble, dignified, and grand Joru — my future husband and the King of Ling Gabu.” Thinking this, Zumu raised her head slightly, radiating the composure of a proud princess and future queen.

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But when Zumu looked at Joru, she froze in shock. She rubbed her eyes, doubting her vision, but it was indeed Joru. However, he looked entirely different from what she had expected. He wore a tattered, ill-fitting sheepskin hat with a wide brim, an old, torn calfskin jacket with fraying edges, and red boots so worn that his toes stuck out. Even the golden saddle and silver stirrups on his horse were broken and shabby. He didn’t look like a competitor in the race but rather a beggar.

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The youngest branch’s brothers were immediately disappointed upon seeing Joru’s disheveled appearance. They walked away with slumped shoulders, keeping their distance from Joru as if afraid his bad luck might rub off on them. Only Jiacha and Steward Wang remained calm. They understood that, despite his appearance, Joru was destined to take the throne of Ling Gabu. Yet they said nothing, quietly waiting for the race to begin.

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Zumu, however, was heartbroken. She couldn’t believe that this ragged beggar was supposed to be her husband. She felt like crying, especially when she saw Joru’s hunched back and awkward demeanor. Just then, a bee flew near her ear and sang softly. Suddenly, Zumu smiled, her expression bright and beautiful. She realized that the Joru before her was merely another one of his transformations. In her impatience, she had forgotten about Joru’s ability to change forms.

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Chao Tong, on the other hand, was thrilled to see Joru in such a state. He thought, “This is perfect! I have no opponent now. The Darong family no longer needs to worry about losing the throne to Joru.” Feeling both pleased and relieved, Chao Tong was unusually friendly toward Joru on the racecourse. He grew even more convinced that the prophecy of the Horse-Headed King was true. Confident and arrogant, he shouted to the Qiongju brothers, who looked dejected, “Brothers, get ready! Cheer up! The horse race is about to begin.”

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His tone was filled with pride and triumph. After all, seeing Joru’s embarrassing state and Chao Tong’s smug expression, everyone believed that the day’s winner could only be Chao Tong.

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The Race Begins and the Dream Conversation

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At the base of Ayudi Mountain, the warriors lined up side by side, neither ahead nor behind. A long ceremonial horn sounded, announcing the start of the race. One by one, the magnificent horses surged forward like rolling clouds, galloping across the grasslands. Very soon, Ling Gabu’s thirty renowned heroes took the lead: Sewa, Wenbu, and Mujian. Known as the "Three Tigers" within the region and the "Hawk, Eagle, and Wolf" to outsiders, they were the heart, eyes, and soul of Ling Gabu, its pillars and beams. Their horses didn’t just run—they flew.

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Led by Jiacha, the seven warriors of Ling Gabu were the protectors of the people, celebrated as the seven champions of the land. Commanding an army of 700,000, they were like seven golden mountains, capable of carrying the weight of the earth. Their horses galloped ceaselessly, like rainbows dancing in the sky.

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At the forefront of strategy and heritage were the four uncles, led by Steward Wang. These wise and knowledgeable elders were the decision-makers for Ling Gabu’s major affairs and the guardians of ancestral traditions. Like the four great rivers of Mount Gangdise, they nourished the land like dewdrops of wisdom. Their horses soared into the sky like wild winds sweeping across the fields.

 

Led by Angqiong Yuyemeiduo, the thirteen young warriors of Ling Gabu formed the army's core strength. They were like thirteen divine arrows, powerful weapons against demonic enemies. Their thirteen horses moved like swirling clouds, roaring like thunder as they charged forward.

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Meanwhile, columns of smoke rose from Ludi Mountain like misty clouds, enveloping the vibrant racecourse with a mysterious air. On Ludi Mountain, thirteen sacred temples were filled with people offering incense to the gods. Fragrant smoke from cedar and a special wood called “sang” filled the sky. Butter lamps surrounded the sacred altar, their flickering flames creating an enchanting, dreamlike atmosphere. The sound of conch shells echoed as people prostrated themselves, murmuring prayers to the gods and guardians, singing praises to the god of war.

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The Seven Sisters and Laichong’s Dream

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On Ladi Mountain, the spectators watching the horse race were just as tense as the competitors. Even the usually lively Seven Sisters were wide-eyed with nervousness, afraid to miss the smallest change in the race. Among the gatherings of Ling Gabu, the Seven Sisters were known for their impeccable style, and no one dressed better than them. But it wasn’t just their beautiful clothes that caught people’s attention—it was their graceful figures, radiant charm, and captivating demeanor. Whenever they appeared, they immediately became the center of attention. Yet the sisters didn’t mind; in fact, they seemed to enjoy being admired.

 

As the horses galloped farther away, Laichong Ruguchaya suddenly remembered something. She leaned over and whispered to Zumu, “Sister Zumu, I had a dream last night. I dreamed that…”

 

“Don’t whisper! If you have something to say, say it out loud so we can all hear!” Zhuoluo Baiganaze teased Laichong with a smile.

 

“Yes, tell us!” The other girls gathered closer, their curiosity piqued. Unable to see the race clearly, they returned to their lively and playful nature.

 

“Alright!” Laichong said with a mischievous grin, her bright eyes sparkling. Feeling proud to have everyone’s attention, she began to sing:

 

"Jialuo, E’luo, and Zhuoluo—

With wealth, they’re the Three Uncles.

Without wealth, they’re the Three Servant Boys.

Zumu, Laichong, and Naze—

With wealth, they’re the Three Sisters.

Without wealth, they’re the Three Maidservants."

 

The girls burst into laughter at Laichong’s teasing song.

 

Laichong’s Dream and Chaomu’s Outburst

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“No one wants to hear that,” Naze said, looking annoyed.

 

“Laichong, didn’t you say you had a dream last night? Tell us about it,” Zumu said, not interested in Laichong’s playful rhymes.

 

“Don’t be so impatient! I have to teach you something first, and then I’ll tell you my story!” Laichong replied mischievously. She then began to sing again:

 

"Last night in my sweet dreams,

I saw the golden land of Malong.

A giant eagle and dragon played in the sky,

Lions and tigers raced on the ground,

Elephants marched with great strength,

And the rainbow arch was even more beautiful.

I saw a hero fly into the heavens,

With power to shake the earth.

He neither reached the sky’s peak

Nor touched the ground, suspended in mid-air.

I saw in the ancient heavenly lake,

The sun and thick clouds competing.

Though clouds floated in the sky,

The sun’s rays shone across the heavens.

I, Laichong, wish for the sun’s warmth,

Bringing joy and comfort to all."

 

When Laichong finished singing, she closed her mouth and fell silent.

 

“That’s it?” asked Chaomu Cuo, Chao Tong’s daughter.

 

Laichong nodded, not wanting to say more.

 

“What does it mean?” Chaomu Cuo asked, clearly confused. Not only was she puzzled, but the other girls shook their heads as well. Only Zumu, her mind as clear as a mirror, smiled quietly, keeping her thoughts to herself.

 

“Who can explain my dream?” Laichong asked dramatically, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I’ll try!” said Yuzhen, Steward Wang’s daughter. Unlike Chaomu Cuo’s naivety or Laichong’s playful nature, Yuzhen was quick-witted and sharp. Looking around at her sisters, she began to sing:

 

"The elder branch’s spirit clings to the eagle,

The middle branch’s spirit clings to the dragon,

The youngest branch’s spirit clings to the lion,

Darong’s spirit clings to the tiger.

The brothers’ spirits cling to the elephant,

If their courage can soar to the heavens

And anchor the earth,

It’s a sign of unmatched heroism.

But hearing Laichong’s dream,

Their bravery and skills fall short.

The golden throne cannot be claimed by mere horses.

The rainbow arching the heavens

And the sun and clouds competing in the lake

Symbolize Joru’s divine lineage.

The clouds disappearing, and the sun shining bright

Represent the removal of suffering.

The blazing sun rising in the sky

Foretells Joru’s ascent to the throne.

Its light illuminating the world

Means Joru will bring prosperity to all.

May the golden sun shine brilliantly,

A symbol of Joru’s blessings to the people."

 

When Yuzhen finished singing, Laichong was delighted, and Zumu nodded in agreement. However, Chaomu Cuo reacted like an enraged lioness. She squirmed angrily, her body twisting like a snake, and her hair whipped around like an ox’s tail. Furious, she thought, “The Yuja horse is already recognized as the fastest, and my father’s claim to the throne is certain. How dare these two girls say the throne belongs to Joru? This is outrageous!”

 

Unable to contain her anger, Chaomu Cuo sneered loudly and said:

 

"In a dirty place where dust clouds the sky,

No green grass or fragrant flowers can grow.

A corrupt official's mind holds nothing but lies,

Twisting right and wrong as they please.

Arrogant daughters of bad mothers,

You lack wisdom and intelligence.

Before a wise teacher speaks,

A foolish monk blabbers nonsense.

Before a wise leader decides,

A foolish minister shouts commands.

Before knowing the master’s taste,

A servant cooks whatever they want.

Without even seeing the house’s gate,

You’re already scheming to take the servant’s wages.

Without knowing where your next meal comes from,

You act like the master who owns the dog."

 

Laichong and Yuzhen were stunned into silence by Chaomu Cuo’s incoherent tirade, unable to understand her chaotic thoughts. Just as they were figuring out how to respond, Chaomu Cuo continued her rant:

 

"You say Joru’s poverty is a good omen—

Then go ahead and wait for it!

You say Joru’s suffering is a good sign—

Then go and accept it!

You say the beggar Joru is a divine child—

Then marry him yourself!"

 

Finally, Laichong and Yuzhen understood why Chaomu Cuo was so angry. Their discussion of the dream and its interpretation had clearly provoked her. Just as they were about to retaliate, Zumu gently tugged on their sleeves, signaling them to let it go. Laichong pouted in frustration, but Yuzhen understood Zumu’s intentions and decided not to argue further. She thought, “Let her see the results of the race. Then she’ll slap her own face with her words.”

 

Chaomu Cuo, seeing no one respond to her, became even more brazen and declared:

 

"The golden throne belongs to the Yuja horse.

Zumu belongs to the Chao Tong King.

Jialuo’s wealth will go to the Darong family.

Ling Gabu will belong to my father’s rule.

A real man, a strong horse, or a powerful ox—

Without beauty outside, can they have worth inside?

Like cooking an empty lung,

There’s nothing to chew, and it won’t fill your stomach.

Joru looks like a beggar outside,

And inside, he’s just an empty stomach.

His horse is like a rat,

Not running but crawling.

Falling behind the others,

It looks like it’s pecking at food.

Or like a beetle pushing forward with its nose.

Even if there are few ribbons for last place,

Joru will surely win one!"

 

The sisters ignored Chaomu Cuo’s insults, but Laichong and Yuzhen’s faces flushed red with anger. Only Zumu remained composed, smiling faintly as she continued to observe the race with quiet confidence.

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