The Eight Immortals (Ii)

Once upon a time there was a poor man, who at last had no roof to shelter him and not a bite to eat. So, weary and worn, he lay down beside a little temple of the field-god that stood by the roadside and fell asleep. And he dreamed that the old, white-bearded field-god came out of his little shrine and said to him: “I know of a means to help you! To-morrow the Eight Immortals will pass along this road. Cast yourself down before them and plead to them!”

When the man awoke he seated himself beneath the great tree beside the field-god’s little temple, and waited all day long for his dream to come true. At last, when the sun had nearly sunk, eight figures came down the road, which the beggar clearly recognized as those of the Eight Immortals. Seven of them were hurrying as fast as they could, but one among them, who had a lame leg, limped along after the rest. Before him–it was Li Tia Guai–the man cast himself to earth. But the lame Immortal did not want to bother with him, and told him to go away. Yet the poor man would not give over pleading with him, begging that he might go with them and be one of the Immortals, too. That would be impossible, said the cripple. Yet, as the poor man did not cease his prayers and would not leave him, he at last said: “Very well, then, take hold of my coat!” This the man did and off they went in flying haste over paths and fields, on and on, and even further on. Suddenly they stood together high up on the tower of Pong-lai-schan, the ghost mountain by the Eastern Sea. And, lo, there stood the rest of the Immortals as well! But they were very discontented with the companion whom Li Tia Guai had brought along. Yet since the poor man pleaded so earnestly, they too allowed themselves to be moved, and said to him: “Very well! We will now leap down into the sea. If you follow us you may also become an Immortal!” And one after another the seven leaped down into the sea. But when it came to the man’s turn he was frightened, and would not dare the leap. Then the cripple said to him: “If you are afraid, then you cannot become an Immortal!”

“But what shall I do now?” wailed the man, “I am far from my home and have no money!” The cripple broke off a fragment of the battlement of the tower, and thrust it into the man’s hand; then he also leaped from the tower and disappeared into the sea like his seven companions.

When the man examined the stone in his hand more closely, he saw that it was the purest silver. It provided him with traveling money during the many weeks it took him to reach his home. But by that time the silver was completely used up, and he found himself just as poor as he had been before.

Note: Little field-god temples, Tu Di Miau, are miniature stone chapels which stand before every village. As regards the field-god, see No. 51.

XXXII

Moral

Generosity and compassion from those with little create miraculous blessings that exceed material contribution. The poor man’s selfless help generated supernatural rewards through divine recognition of virtue. True wealth measures in character, not possessions.

Historical & Cultural Context

The Eight Immortals (Ii) belongs to the ancient Chinese storytelling tradition, where folk tales have served as vehicles for Confucian, Taoist, and Buddhist wisdom for millennia. Chinese folk tales are distinguished by their reverence for filial piety, the balance of yin and yang, and the belief that virtue is always rewarded in the fullness of time.

Reflection & Discussion

1. How does generosity from those with little demonstrate greatest virtue?
2. Why do divine forces reward internal character more than external circumstances?
3. What transforms simple kindness into miraculous blessing and return?

Did You Know?

• Bears have an excellent sense of smell, seven times better than a bloodhound’s.
• Chinese folk tales date back over 4,000 years, making them among the oldest storytelling traditions in the world.
• Dragons in Chinese folklore are benevolent creatures associated with wisdom, power, and good fortune.

What This Tale Teaches Us Today

Old stories keep their power because their lessons never stop being useful. Here is how this one still applies:

• Reading folk tales aloud to children builds vocabulary, imagination, and a sense of cultural inheritance.
• Folk tales teach ethics without lecturing. A good story can reshape a mind more powerfully than any rule.
• Every folk tale is also a time machine – a small window into how our ancestors thought about the world.

Why This Story Still Matters

The Eight Immortals (Ii) joins a vast global library of folk tales that human beings have been telling one another for thousands of years. Every culture has produced its own stories, but the deepest themes – courage, kindness, cleverness, loyalty, the cost of greed – appear again and again in different clothes. Modern readers who spend time with folk tales inherit something precious: a sense that people have always wrestled with the same basic questions, and that good stories can still help us find good answers. That is why these tales persist. Each one is a small tool for living, handed down quietly through generations.

Cultural Context and Continuing Influence

Folk tales like this one survived for hundreds of years through oral storytelling before any scholar thought to write them down. Grandparents told them to grandchildren, travelers traded them along roads and rivers, and mothers repeated them to babies who would one day repeat them to their own children. Each small retelling sharpened the story, discarded unnecessary parts, and polished the essential lesson. That long process of refinement is why a good folk tale feels so weighty – it has been shaped by thousands of listeners across generations, each contributing something small to the story we read today.

Modern readers sometimes wonder whether folk tales are still relevant in an age of apps and smartphones. The answer is yes, perhaps more than ever. The technology changes, but the underlying questions – about kindness, courage, loyalty, greed, family, fear, love – do not. These are the same questions that children asked around a fire in ancient India, around a hearth in medieval Ireland, around a campfire in 19th-century Korea. And they are the same questions children ask their parents today, just phrased differently. That is why a family that reads folk tales together is doing real cultural and emotional work, not simply entertaining itself.

Reading Folk Tales With Children

Reading folk tales aloud to children is one of the oldest and most effective forms of moral education. Unlike a lecture or a rule, a story slides past a child’s natural resistance and plants its lesson in the imagination, where it quietly grows. Years later, when the child meets a real situation that resembles the story – a bully at school, a dishonest coworker, a moment of temptation – the old tale rises to the surface of memory and offers guidance. That is why parents and teachers across every culture have trusted stories to do the work of raising good humans, long before formal schools or textbooks existed.

When reading this story with a young listener, try pausing at key moments and asking what the child thinks will happen next. Let them guess, even if they are wrong. That small act of prediction turns a passive listener into an active thinker. After the story ends, a simple open question – “What would you have done?” or “Who do you think was the smartest character?” – invites the child to connect the tale to their own life. Those conversations are where real learning happens, not during the reading itself but in the quiet moments that follow.

Older children and teenagers sometimes think they have outgrown folk tales. In reality, the best tales only deepen with age. A ten-year-old hears the surface plot; a fifteen-year-old notices the irony; a twenty-year-old sees the economic and political pressures on the characters; a forty-year-old understands the parents in the story for the first time. A good folk tale is a gift that keeps unfolding for decades. Families who read and reread the same stories across the years discover this naturally, and pass the discovery down.

A Final Word

Every folk tale carries within it the accumulated judgment of thousands of listeners across many generations. When a story has been told for a thousand years and still moves children today, that is not an accident. It is proof that the story is saying something true about the human condition. The wiser the listener, the more they see in a tale they have heard a hundred times before. Reading these stories slowly, out loud, with children beside us, we are joining the longest conversation our species has ever had with itself. Every tale we share is a quiet vote for patience, for meaning, and for the old idea that a good story is one of the finest things one generation can hand down to the next.

We hope this telling gave you something worth carrying into your day – a small lesson, a useful image, a question to ask your child at dinner. Folk tales do their best work in the hours and years after the reading ends, quietly shaping how we see the world and each other. Thank you for spending time with this story, and for keeping the old tradition of careful listening and thoughtful retelling alive.

A Quiet Thought to Take Home

Folk tales such as The Eight Immortals (Ii) were never built for a library shelf. They were built for the road — easy to carry, easy to recall, light enough to slip into conversation when the right moment arrives. Their strength is their simplicity: one clear picture, one honest lesson, one small act of courage or kindness that becomes a lantern when the world feels dim. Readers have passed this story between them for centuries because it keeps its promise every time it is told.

Take a moment before you move on. Ask what the tale is really about — not the plot, but the feeling it leaves. Then think of someone in your life who might need that feeling today: a younger sibling, a friend who is worried, a child who is learning how to be brave. Share the story with them in your own simple words. That is how folk tales have always travelled, hand to hand and heart to heart. In carrying this one forward, you join a very long line of gentle readers who chose to keep it walking beside us.