The Legend of the Kitchen God

Long ago, in a peaceful village near the Red River Delta, there lived a man named Trong whose life seemed blessed by all the gods. He owned fertile rice fields, a comfortable home, and had married the most beautiful and virtuous woman in the region, a gentle soul named Thi Nhi.

For the first years of their marriage, Trong and Thi Nhi lived in perfect harmony. They worked together in their fields, shared their meals with gratitude, and were known throughout the village for their generosity to neighbors and kindness to strangers.

But as prosperity came easily to Trong, he gradually began to take his blessings for granted. Success made him proud, and pride made him careless with the feelings of the person who mattered most to him—his devoted wife.

Trong began spending long evenings drinking rice wine with friends, gambling on cockfights, and boasting about his wealth and good fortune. When Thi Nhi gently suggested that he might prefer spending more time at home with her, he would dismiss her concerns with irritation.

“Woman,” he would say harshly, “I work hard all day to provide for this household. How I choose to spend my evenings is my own business. Don’t nag me about such trivial matters.”

As months passed, Trong’s behavior grew worse. He would come home late, drunk and argumentative, criticizing his wife for minor imperfections in their home or meals. The gentle man who had once treasured Thi Nhi’s company now seemed to find fault with everything she did.

Thi Nhi endured this treatment with patient sorrow, hoping that her husband would eventually remember the love they had shared and return to his former kindness. She continued to care for their home, tend their fields, and treat Trong with the respect due to a husband, even when he showed her none in return.

But Trong’s gambling grew more reckless, and his drinking increased. One terrible night, after losing a substantial sum betting on fighting crickets, he came home in a drunken rage and accused Thi Nhi of bringing him bad luck.

“Everything was perfect before I married you!” he shouted, his words slurred by rice wine and twisted by self-pity. “Since then, nothing has gone right! You must be cursed, and your curse is destroying my fortune!”

These cruel words, so unfair and untrue, finally broke Thi Nhi’s patient heart. She had endured criticism and neglect, hoping love would eventually triumph over pride, but being blamed for her husband’s own poor choices was more than she could bear.

“Trong,” she said quietly, tears streaming down her face, “I have tried to be a good wife to you, but nothing I do pleases you anymore. If you truly believe I am the source of your troubles, then perhaps it would be better if I left.”

“Yes!” Trong replied in his drunken anger, “Perhaps it would be better! Find somewhere else to spread your bad luck!”

The next morning, when Trong awoke with a pounding headache and a mouth dry as dust, he found their home empty. Thi Nhi had taken only her personal belongings and left quietly during the night, unwilling to cause a public scene that would bring shame to either of their families.

At first, Trong felt relieved to be free of what he had convinced himself was his wife’s nagging presence. But as days turned into weeks, he began to realize how much Thi Nhi had contributed to their household’s smooth operation and their life’s happiness.

Meals became simple and unsatisfying without her skillful cooking. The house grew dusty and disorganized without her careful attention. The fields became more difficult to manage without her help during planting and harvest seasons. Most significantly, the home that had once been filled with laughter and conversation now echoed with loneliness.

Meanwhile, Thi Nhi had found refuge with a distant relative in another village. Though safe and cared for, she grieved deeply for the destruction of her marriage and worried constantly about Trong’s welfare, despite the way he had treated her.

As time passed, Trong’s fortunes indeed began to decline, though not because of any curse from his wife. His gambling debts accumulated, his excessive drinking interfered with his work, and his reputation in the community suffered due to his treatment of the universally beloved Thi Nhi.

Neighbors who had once respected him now whispered about his cruelty to his wife. Business associates became reluctant to deal with a man known for his irresponsible behavior. Even his drinking companions grew tired of his constant complaints and self-pity.

One day, nearly a year after Thi Nhi’s departure, Trong was working alone in his rice field when he slipped on the muddy bank and fell into the irrigation canal. The water was deeper than expected, and Trong, weakened by months of poor living and excessive drinking, found himself unable to swim to safety.

As he struggled in the water, certain he was about to drown, Trong’s entire life flashed before his eyes. He saw clearly, perhaps for the first time, how his pride and selfishness had destroyed the greatest blessing he had ever received—his wife’s patient love and devotion.

“Thi Nhi,” he called out desperately as the water closed over his head, “I am sorry! I was wrong! Please forgive me!”

Just as Trong was about to lose consciousness, strong hands pulled him from the canal. His rescuer was a stranger—a kind-faced man who had been traveling the road beside the rice field and heard his cries for help.

“Brother,” the stranger said as he helped Trong recover on the muddy bank, “you called out to someone named Thi Nhi as you were drowning. Is this person dear to you?”

“She was my wife,” Trong replied, shame and regret evident in his voice. “I treated her terribly and drove her away with my cruelty and stupidity. Now I realize that losing her was a far greater catastrophe than drowning in this canal could ever be.”

The stranger studied Trong’s face carefully, as if measuring the sincerity of his remorse.

“If you truly understand the wrong you have done,” the stranger said gently, “perhaps it is not too late to make amends. Thi Nhi lives with her cousin in the village of Dong Xuan, two days’ journey north of here. She has never remarried, and those who know her say she still speaks of you with sadness rather than anger.”

Hope flickered in Trong’s heart for the first time in months. “Do you think she might forgive me if I went to her and begged her pardon with genuine repentance?”

“A heart as good as hers is capable of great forgiveness,” the stranger replied, “but only if the apology comes from a truly changed man, not merely a lonely one.”

That night, Trong examined his life and character more honestly than he ever had before. He saw how prosperity had made him arrogant, how pride had made him cruel, and how selfishness had blinded him to the treasure he possessed in Thi Nhi’s love.

He made solemn vows to change his behavior, gave up gambling and excessive drinking, and spent weeks preparing to approach his wife—not to demand her return, but to acknowledge his failures and ask humbly for her forgiveness.

When Trong finally reached Dong Xuan and found Thi Nhi, he prostrated himself before her and spoke from his heart about his regrets, his newfound understanding, and his desire to become worthy of her love again.

Thi Nhi, whose affection for her husband had never truly died despite his terrible treatment of her, saw the genuine change in Trong’s character and agreed to return home with him.

Their second marriage was far happier than their first had been. Trong never again took his wife’s love for granted, and both of them worked consciously to build a relationship based on mutual respect, gratitude, and shared responsibility.

But their story might have ended as simply a tale of personal redemption if the Jade Emperor had not been watching their situation with great interest.

The stranger who had rescued Trong from the canal had actually been a celestial messenger, sent to observe how mortals handled challenges of pride, love, and forgiveness. The Jade Emperor was impressed by Trong’s genuine transformation and Thi Nhi’s capacity for forgiveness despite serious injury.

“These two mortals have learned important lessons about the proper conduct of family life,” the Jade Emperor declared to his celestial court. “They understand now that harmony in the home is the foundation of all other blessings, and that treating family members with kindness is more important than any worldly success.”

The Jade Emperor decided to honor Trong and Thi Nhi by appointing them as divine protectors of family life on earth. Trong became the Kitchen God, responsible for watching over each household and reporting annually to heaven about how families treat one another.

Thi Nhi became his celestial assistant, helping to guide and protect women who face difficulties in their marriages and families.

According to Vietnamese tradition, the Kitchen God lives in every family’s kitchen, observing the daily interactions between family members throughout the year. Seven days before Tet, the Vietnamese New Year, he travels to heaven to report to the Jade Emperor about each household’s conduct.

Families who have shown kindness, respect, and forgiveness toward one another receive blessings for the coming year. Those who have been cruel, selfish, or neglectful face consequences that encourage them to improve their behavior.

Before the Kitchen God departs each year, Vietnamese families prepare special offerings for him—sticky rice, fruits, and paper clothes and horses for his journey to heaven. They also release live carp into rivers and ponds, believing these fish will carry the Kitchen God swiftly to the celestial realm.

Most importantly, the week before Tet becomes a time for family members to apologize for any wrongs they have committed against each other during the past year, knowing that the Kitchen God values households where forgiveness and reconciliation flourish.

The Legend of the Kitchen God reminds Vietnamese families that the most important success in life is not wealth or status, but the ability to create harmony and happiness within the home. It teaches that everyone deserves second chances when they show genuine repentance, and that the strongest marriages are built on mutual respect and gratitude rather than pride and taking each other for granted.

And so, in every Vietnamese kitchen, the gentle spirit of the reformed Trong watches over family life, hoping that his own story of failure and redemption will inspire others to treasure their loved ones and create homes filled with kindness, understanding, and forgiveness instead of conflict and neglect.