The Giant Dragon

There was a Giant Dragon in our village. It had been there for as long as I could remember. When I was young, I heard many stories about this Dragon from my parents. There was a time when a terrible, man-eating demon attacked our village, wreaking havoc all over the place, and as a result people were living a miserable life. Then one day the Dragon descended from the sky and courageously drove the demon away. Ever since, the Dragon had been safeguarding the village and everyone had lived a stable and happy life. My parents also told me that the Dragon not only defended us against any invaders but also diligently helped build our village. Because of its immense strength, it could do things that we ordinary people could not do. To the north of our village there was a wide river called the North River. Before, the North River often flooded in the summer during heavy rains. But then the Dragon spent three whole years building a magnificent dam over the river. Since then, the North River had not only stopped flooding but also facilitated the irrigation of the village.

So I had always had a soft spot for the Dragon since I was a child. Not just me, but all my friends were like this. All the boys desired to become as brave as the Dragon and all the girls wanted to be protected by its strong wings. (There were certainly also some girls who wanted to be as brave and some boys who wanted to be protected.) The Dragon was the idol of all children, that’s for sure.

However, I didn’t really get to see the Dragon very often. Except on a yearly festival, when our elementary school would be closed and the teachers would start rehearsing the celebration weeks in advance. Then we would go to the village square in full formation and welcome the Dragon with a well-rehearsed dance. Because the Dragon was so giant, in order for it to come to the village, people needed to close the roads along the route and take down all the streetlights (otherwise, if the Dragon’s tail accidentally touched the streetlights, it could easily get electrocuted). This was a huge project that needed to be carried out long in advance, which would cause inconvenience to pedestrians and vehicles at night, and this had also led to also some traffic accidents - but accidents did happen all the time and you just had to be careful yourself, as our teachers had always told us. It was all worth it, I thought, because every time the Dragon came to the village, the whole village would have a three-day holiday, everyone with a happy smile on their face. And I didn’t have to go to school; except for the half-day welcome ceremony, I would have two and a half days of free time. It was a good deal.

Every time the Dragon came to our village, it looked very benevolent. Despite its sheer size, it didn’t look scary at all. Every step it took was steady and it always behaved politely. Although the Dragon was not an articulate speaker - in fact, it could only make some crunching sound - the crowd would cheer for it whenever it made any sound, as, apparently, it was showing its friendliness and festival blessings to us. When the Dragon came to the centre of the village, the prepared performance would begin. Not only our elementary school, but all the units in the village would have prepared their own performances, including singing, dancing, acrobatics, and recitation. The Dragon would be sitting on its own dragon chair [1] - a huge stone structure, carefully carved and decorated by craftsmen, filled with various ornate patterns and designs, and otherwise always covered by a huge hood; the Dragon would squint its eyes - that’s how it watched intently; whenever the show reached its climax, the Dragon would wag its tail joyfully, and this would cause a huge whirlwind. If we were among the audience, with a quick gesture from our teacher everyone needed to lie down on the ground tightly to prevent being blown away by the whirlwind. But the performers could not get down and had to continue to perform in the whirlwind. Therefore, they needed to wear a kind of iron shoes, and the stage was equipped with electromagnets underneath. In case of a whirlwind, someone in charge behind the scenes would quickly turn on the circuit for the electromagnets, so as to ensure that the performers elegantly stood on the stage and wouldn’t be blown away by the wind. Obviously, we also had to change into these special shoes when we performed, and during rehearsals, we had to take into account all the circumstances to ensure that we could perform perfectly regardless of when the wind started blowing. Therefore, although our dance did not look complicated, we had to start rehearsing long in advance for the desired stage effect. Although practising was quite tiring, I felt that it was worthwhile to see the Dragon wagging its tail delightfully during our performance.

However, when I was a child, there were many things beyond my comprehension. For example, if the Dragon was so capable, why didn’t it do all the work and why did we still need to go to work ourselves? At least my parents were always working hard, and teachers always told us to study hard so that we could do more work and share the burden with the Dragon. I once asked my parents about this, and my mother answered that it was because the Dragon was currently not flexible enough to move around, and that its limited energy must be devoted to the most critical tasks, such as protecting our village from demons and maintaining the safety of the dam. The rest of the work, such as farming, cooking, and raising children, all needed to be done by us villagers. Then my father added that the Dragon had been able to do more and more year by year - for example, it had already been able to deliver our mail - and it would get unimaginably strong and agile within hundreds of years - or maybe even sooner, within just a few decades. At that time, the Dragon would be able to take charge of all the work in our village. Then all of us would not need to work, and the genuine “Dragon Era” would come. For that day, my father said, we had to work harder now to help the Dragon grow faster.

The vision my father depicted generated even more confusion in my young mind. For example, how could the Dragon do all the delicate work for us, now that it had trouble even entering our village? Could it, say, operate a sewing machine or do needlework? Such a thought was so absurd that I almost laughed out loud. But my father looked very serious, so I couldn’t help but imagine that maybe the Dragon would develop some kind of magic power that would allow it to complete these tasks without having to do it itself. I wanted to ask more, but my mother diverted my attention by asking me if I had finished my homework. No, I replied. Go do it, she ordered. As I was leaving, my parents whispered something that I didn’t hear. Later, I tried again asking about the Dragon, but every time I brought up the topic, my mother would interrupt and my father would keep silent. After a few times, I learned to avoid this topic so as not to embarrass myself, although I didn’t know why we couldn’t discuss about the Dragon, which looked really benevolent. This became another of my questions.

As I grew older, I had even more questions about the Dragon. For example, although it was said that the Dragon would safeguard the village, many friends of mine had joined the militia. What was the point of organising the militia when the Dragon could defeat the most terrible demons and monsters? Later, my friend Ergou [2] came back from the barracks and told me that the militia’s main job was to keep the Dragon safe. What? I was totally astonished upon hearing that. The Dragon was so mighty, and so why did it need any protection from us? Ergou explained that the Dragon was the keeper of our village and we could never afford to lose it. Otherwise, not only a safe and stable environment for development would be gone, but the Dragon Era that everyone dreamed of would never, ever be realised. Therefore, protecting the Dragon was the top priority for all of us, and the militia had taken on this supreme and honourable task. All of this was done on the villagers’ own initiative, reflecting our great love for the Dragon, Ergou added. I was still pondering the reasoning behind this, when Ergou suddenly said to me in a somewhat disdainful tone: your ideological awareness really wasted the blessing of the Dragon of so many years. His words subtly irritated me, but my desire to argue was impeded by a lack of words. Eventually, I gave in and apologised for my deficient ideological awareness, admitting that I still had much to learn. He patted me on the shoulder and said it’s okay. He then invited me to dinner so that we could talk it through, which I accepted.

During the meal, Ergou told me about many things in the barracks, such as how their comrades worked tirelessly to accomplish their tasks: securing food and water for the Dragon, helping the Dragon chase away mosquitoes and flies, and playing music for the Dragon. He told the stories vividly which piqued my interest. He also told me the story of his instructor who had arrested and put into justice bad guys that attempted to harm the Dragon. It was then that I realised that there were some bad guys in the village who plotted to ruin the Dragon’s great plan and hinder the coming of the Dragon Era! Ergou said that these people had ulterior motives, but all in all, they did not want the village to be prosperous or the Dragon’s plan to be successful. These people were psychopaths and must be exterminated by all means. Now, all my previous confusion was finally dispelled. It was not that the Dragon couldn’t do all the work, but there were people who deliberately sabotaged and diverted the Dragon’s energy! The reason we couldn’t discuss the Dragon as we pleased was to make sure that everyone was united around the Dragon, so that we wouldn’t be unconsciously incited by the bad guys. The Dragon had always represented the fundamental interests of all the villagers, Ergou told me. Influenced by Ergou, I gradually realised that it was a great honour to devote everything I had to protecting the Dragon.

After graduating with honours from an engineering school, I saw a notice at the centre of the village that a maintenance engineer for the dam over the North River was being recruited. I signed up without hesitation. How honourable it was to share the task of overhauling the dam with the Dragon! During the interview, I talked passionately about how I had heard about this great project of the Dragon since I was a child, which profoundly benefited the whole village, and how I hoped to use what I’d learned to contribute to the coming of the Dragon Era. The interviewer seemed impressed and I was officially hired for the job in almost no time. My parents were very happy to hear this, and Ergou also sent a letter from the barracks to congratulate me. So I started my work with great enthusiasm.

On the first day of work, the team leader let me familiarise myself with the records left by the previous maintenance engineer. So I started to seriously review all the measurements and calculations, trying to figure out the previous workflow. But after almost a week, I understood neither the calculation methods of several key safety indicators nor the basic maintenance process. Every key step in the reports was only vaguely and briefly mentioned, but in the end the previous engineer always came to the conclusion that the dam was safe and stable. I stared at the scribbled name he signed next to “safe” in countless routine inspections, and I still didn’t know why he could be so sure. At one point, I even began to wonder whether the previous engineer had been fired due to dereliction of duty, so I cautiously asked the team leader, who told me that the previous engineer had been promoted to a more important position because of his outstanding performance. The specific position was confidential, and he suggested that I should not ask any further. I certainly had already acquired the basic skill of “stopping asking”, so I nodded and went back to study the scribbled records. Unsurprisingly, I ended up to no avail.

When I was about to fall into despair, I suddenly realised something. Yes! It took the Dragon three whole years and countless painstaking efforts to build this dam. The Dragon was our almighty keeper, so of course this dam would always be safe and stable! And were these measurements and calculations superfluous? No, not at all! They were all necessary proofs of the great achievements of the Dragon! So I learned it all. During the routine inspection, I followed the workflow of the previous engineer, where I would carry out all the important measurements - in case of large deviation from the expected value, I would simply remeasure in another way until the expectation was met - and then from them obtain some nice-looking indicators, which I then filled in the report. Of course, the conclusion must be “safe”, since the dam built by the Dragon was by definition safe. I signed my name with satisfaction and gave the report to the team leader. After reading it, the team leader gave me a thumb up. He praised me and asked me to keep doing like this.

I originally thought that if I worked in this position for a few more years, probably I would also be promoted to a more important and “confidential” position like the previous engineer, so as to be able to give full play to my talents for the Dragon. But my sweet dream ended too soon and too abruptly. It was a squalling early morning in summer, and I was awakened by a loud bang - before I knew it, the village siren went off. Everyone ran out in panic, but found that they could not go downstairs because the floors below had been flooded. I quickly realised what had happened - the dam had collapsed! The place where I lived was on a higher terrain, and the building was stable, so there was no danger for the time being. But I could saw that many houses had already been washed away by the sudden flood. I was stuck waiting in my room for a day and a night, starving but at least not life-threatened. While waiting, I thought, would the Dragon come to rescue us disaster-stricken villagers? But I immediately realised how naive this idea was: such a dangerous job, of course, shouldn’t be done by the Dragon! The militia would be at the forefront; as expected, they arrived eventually. They were transporting the trapped villagers in life rafts. But as soon as I got on the life raft, the militiamen handcuffed and blindfolded me. After several transfers, I was finally sent to a small, windowless room with a cold iron door firmly secured by a large rusty lock.

Within a few days, I was escorted to the court by two tall militiamen, standing in the dock in handcuffs. The Dragon emblem behind the judge occupied the entire high wall, and I could see that the auditorium was full of observers. Here I knew my crime: I was the one who plotted the collapse of the dam. I took advantage of my position as a maintenance engineer to secretly destroy the load-bearing structures of the dam, seriously weakening the originally indestructible dam built by the Dragon, and finally caused an unprecedented tragedy in the history of Dragon Village with hundreds of casualties (including seventeen militiamen who unfortunately sacrificed their lives in the rescue), dozens of house collapses, and countless property losses… As I listened to the judge’s sentence, my body twitched uncontrollably. Maybe I hadn’t done some of the things the judge mentioned, but I knew that this court was directly appointed by the Dragon and that every decision it made was unalterable. Besides, I was indeed in charge of the dam maintenance, so it was undeniably all my fault and no rebuttal could free me from the punishment. “Death penalty, to be executed immediately.” The judge announced. Fierce applause and roars erupted from the auditorium. I passed out immediately.

Before my execution, the jailer gave me a pen and paper to write down my confession. I couldn’t control my right hand anymore, which trembled violently. I finally wrote a line crookedly: I am a sinner, I have failed the blessings of the Dragon, and I hope to make up for my sin with death! The jailer looked at it, and then took away the pen and paper without saying a word.

My parents had one last chance to visit me in the prison. Remorseful, I didn’t know what to say, as I felt that my sin was too severe for me to be forgiven. I was just glad my parents survived the flood - but even so, as their son would be forever remembered as a sinner, from then on they wouldn’t be able to hold their heads up in front of anyone else. I could only keep apologising, saying that I disappointed everyone. My parents kept silent, but I was grateful that they didn’t reproach me, which already showed their maximum possible respect for me. I finally asked how Ergou was - I knew I didn’t deserve him to see me. My dad suddenly replied that Ergou died heroically while performing a task for the Dragon. Now it was time to end the prison visit, and I was taken away by the jailers immediately. Meanwhile I thought, Ergou was a glorious hero and martyr. After his death, his family would be compensated with pensions and supreme glory, while I, a miserable criminal, only had infamy left after death. How was I qualified to be Ergou’s friend? How I wished people never found out that he once had me as a friend!

I didn’t know how executions were carried out in our village. When the day came, I was tied up, put on a blindfold and earplugs, and transported to somewhere distant. After being removed from the vehicle, I was stripped and put into a shower. At first, I thought it was a gas chamber, but then it turned out to be nothing but a bath, only a prolonged one. Emerging from the shower, I was naked and taken to a windowless room that looked surprisingly opulent. What surprised me even more was that when I entered the room, there were already six or seven people here, and Ergou was one of them! But as the jailer was pointing a rifle at me, I couldn’t speak, so I only tried to make eye contact with Ergou. Ergou was obviously also surprised, but he didn’t dare to say anything as well. After waiting for a while, the jailers came and opened the door. We were ushered out and the surroundings all looked well decorated. Suddenly, in a split second, I heard the familiar crunching sound, just like at the festival every year. I thought it was a dying person’s auditory hallucination, but the sound continued, and I realised it wasn’t - then the environment suddenly became very spacious, and then, yes, it was the Dragon that appeared in front of my eyes. The first sight of it sent a shiver down my spine; I barely recognised it, as it looked not at all benevolent, with its eyes gleaming menacingly and its tail slammed impatiently on the ground. It seemed to be its mealtime. Before I could react, the Dragon used its short front paws to pick up the person at the front of the queue, stuffed him into its bloody mouth, and chewed loudly. The sound of bones cracking suddenly echoed in the empty room. Then, I watched helplessly as it snatched Ergou next to me, and before Ergou yelled anything, the Dragon had already swallowed him within three mouthfuls. I was next.

When I was grabbed by the Dragon’s front claws, I suddenly felt that my life was not wasted. Although I was a sinner, I finally fulfilled my dream and devoted my everything to the Dragon. Besides, my ending was the same as that of the hero Ergou! My flesh and blood would make the Dragon Era come earlier…

And so I died in relief.

After my death, I began to dream - it was said that death was an endless sleep, but only now did I now know that there were dreams in this sleep. In my dream, I lived in a village, where there was also a Giant Dragon. But shockingly, this Dragon was almost always locked in a huge iron cage and would be completely in chains even when it came out occasionally… My Lord, what a disgusting, obscene and chaotic world this was! Such a disgraceful dream after death was the heaviest possible punishment on me by the God of Dragon!

Footnotes

[1] In Chinese, the word “dragon chair” also stands for the throne of the emperor.

[2] Ergou used to be a common Chinese nickname, especially in rural areas, which literally means “the second dog”.