The Story of the Jade Emperor's Daughter

In the highest realm of heaven, where jade palaces float among golden clouds and immortal beings dwell in eternal splendor, there lived Princess Ngoc Nu, the beloved daughter of the Jade Emperor himself. She was the most beautiful of all celestial beings, with skin like polished pearl, hair that flowed like liquid starlight, and eyes that held the wisdom and compassion of the ages.

Princess Ngoc Nu possessed many divine gifts. She could weave clouds into magnificent tapestries, transform dewdrops into precious jewels, and sing with a voice so lovely that it could make flowers bloom out of season and bring peace to the most troubled hearts. But despite all her privileges and powers, the princess felt a deep loneliness in her perfect celestial existence.

“Father,” she would often say to the Jade Emperor as they walked through the gardens of heaven, “everything here is beautiful and eternal, but it feels… distant from real life. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to experience the joys and sorrows that mortals know.”

The Jade Emperor would shake his head with gentle concern. “My dear daughter, mortal life is full of suffering, aging, and death. Why would you wish for such hardships when you have immortality and every pleasure heaven can offer?”

But Princess Ngoc Nu’s compassionate heart was drawn to the struggles of humanity. From her palace in the clouds, she would often gaze down at the earth below, watching the daily lives of mortals with fascination and sympathy.

She saw farmers working tirelessly in their fields, mothers caring for sick children, young couples falling in love despite poverty and hardship, and elderly people facing death with dignity and grace. Though their lives were brief and often difficult, there was something in their experiences—a depth of feeling, a preciousness born of mortality—that her eternal existence lacked.

“They love so fiercely because they know their time is limited,” she mused. “They find joy in simple things because they understand how rare true happiness can be. Perhaps there is wisdom in their brief, fragile lives that we immortals cannot comprehend.”

One day, while observing the mortal realm, Princess Ngoc Nu noticed a young weaver in a village beside the Red River. His name was Kim Lang, and he was renowned throughout the region for creating the most beautiful fabrics anyone had ever seen. But it was not his skill that captured the princess’s attention—it was his character.

Despite his talent and the wealth it could have brought him, Kim Lang lived simply and generously. He would spend days creating exquisite cloth, then sell it for modest prices so that even poor families could afford beautiful clothing for their special occasions. When elderly villagers could no longer afford his work, he would give it to them freely, claiming that beauty was meant to be shared, not hoarded.

“Master Kim,” his neighbors would say, “you could be the richest man in the province if you charged what your work is truly worth.”

But Kim Lang would only smile and reply, “What good is wealth if it comes at the cost of my neighbors’ happiness? I have enough to live comfortably—the joy I see on people’s faces when they wear my cloth is worth more than gold.”

Princess Ngoc Nu found herself watching Kim Lang more and more often, drawn not just by his kindness but by the deep contentment he seemed to find in his simple life. She observed how he would hum while working at his loom, how he would stop to help a child find a lost toy, how he would share his meals with hungry travelers passing through the village.

“Here is a mortal who has found what I have been searching for,” she realized. “He has discovered how to live with both purpose and joy, how to find meaning in everyday actions.”

As seasons passed, Princess Ngoc Nu’s interest in Kim Lang grew into something deeper. She found herself falling in love—not just with his character, but with the entire mortal world he represented. She longed to experience life as humans did, to feel the urgency of limited time, the sweetness of earned rest, the profound connections that mortality made possible.

But how could a celestial princess meet a mortal weaver? The gulf between their worlds seemed impossible to bridge.

One evening, as Kim Lang worked late at his loom by lamplight, a gentle breeze stirred through his workshop, carrying with it an extraordinary sight—silk threads that seemed to glow with their own inner light began falling from the sky like silver rain.

Kim Lang had never seen anything like these celestial threads. They were finer than spider’s silk, stronger than hemp, and so beautiful they seemed to capture moonbeams and starlight within their fibers.

“What miracle is this?” he wondered aloud, gathering the precious threads with reverent hands.

From the shadows of his workshop stepped a figure of breathtaking beauty—Princess Ngoc Nu, who had transformed herself into mortal form to walk among humans.

“They are a gift,” she said softly, “from one who admires your craft and your character.”

Kim Lang looked into her eyes and felt his heart skip like a stone across water. He had never seen anyone so lovely, but it was not just her physical beauty that moved him—there was something in her presence that spoke of vast wisdom and infinite compassion.

“May I ask who you are, gracious lady?” he inquired respectfully.

“I am… Ngoc,” she replied, using a shortened version of her celestial name. “I am a weaver, like you, though I work with different materials.”

Thus began a love affair that defied the natural order of heaven and earth. Each night, Princess Ngoc Nu would descend to the mortal realm in human form to spend time with Kim Lang. She would help him with his weaving, teaching him techniques that no mortal had ever known, showing him how to create fabrics of impossible beauty and durability.

Under her guidance, Kim Lang’s already remarkable skills reached new heights. The cloth they created together was so exquisite that merchants came from across the kingdom to purchase it, bringing prosperity not just to Kim Lang but to his entire village.

More importantly, the two weavers discovered in each other a perfect complement. Kim Lang’s earthly wisdom and practical kindness grounded Princess Ngoc Nu’s celestial knowledge, while her divine insights elevated his understanding of beauty and craftsmanship to levels he had never imagined.

“Ngoc,” Kim Lang said one evening as they sat together watching the stars, “I have never been happier than I am when we work side by side. You have brought magic into my life, but more than that, you have brought meaning and joy that I never knew was possible.”

Princess Ngoc Nu felt her heart breaking with both love and sadness. She knew that their relationship could not continue forever—eventually, her father would discover her unauthorized visits to the mortal realm, and the consequences would be severe.

“Kim Lang,” she replied, taking his hands in hers, “you have given me something I never found in all the splendors of heaven—you have shown me what it means to love and be loved completely. Whatever happens, I will treasure every moment we have shared.”

But their secret could not be kept forever. The Jade Emperor, noticing his daughter’s frequent absences and the subtle changes in her demeanor, sent celestial spies to discover the truth. When he learned that Princess Ngoc Nu had been consorting with a mortal, his divine wrath shook the very foundations of heaven.

“Ungrateful daughter!” he thundered when she was brought before his throne. “You have brought shame upon our celestial realm by lowering yourself to love a mere human! Such behavior threatens the very order of the universe!”

Princess Ngoc Nu knelt before her father, but her voice was steady and strong. “Honorable Father, I have indeed fallen in love with a mortal, but in doing so I have learned things that all my centuries in heaven could not teach me. I have discovered what it means to love someone more than yourself, to find joy in service to others, and to treasure each moment because it might be the last.”

“These are mortal weaknesses!” the Jade Emperor declared. “Immortals must be above such petty emotions!”

“Are they weaknesses, Father?” Princess Ngoc Nu asked. “Kim Lang’s love has made him kinder, more generous, more creative than he ever was alone. My love for him has opened my heart to compassion for all humanity. How can feelings that lead to greater goodness be called weak?”

But the Jade Emperor was unmoved. “You will cease this foolishness immediately and return to your duties in heaven. The mortal must never see you again.”

“And if I refuse?” Princess Ngoc Nu asked quietly.

Her father’s eyes flashed with divine fury. “Then you will be stripped of your immortality and cast down to live as a mortal yourself—subject to aging, sickness, and death. You will lose everything that makes you divine.”

Without hesitation, Princess Ngoc Nu replied, “Then I choose mortality, Father. I would rather live one full lifetime with the man I love than spend eternity without him.”

The Jade Emperor stared at his daughter in shock and disbelief. Never in all his eons of rule had any celestial being chosen mortality over immortality. But seeing the unwavering determination in her eyes, he realized that no punishment could change her heart.

“Very well,” he said with deep sadness, “but know that once you become mortal, you can never return to heaven. This choice is final and irreversible.”

“I understand, Father,” Princess Ngoc Nu replied. “But I ask one favor—allow me to give humanity a gift before I descend permanently to the mortal realm. Let me teach them the art of silk-making, so that something beautiful and lasting will come from our love.”

Despite his anger, the Jade Emperor was moved by his daughter’s selflessness. “Very well,” he granted. “You may bestow this gift upon humanity. But afterward, you must live as an ordinary mortal for the rest of your days.”

And so Princess Ngoc Nu, in her final act as a celestial being, taught the women of Kim Lang’s village how to raise silkworms, how to harvest their cocoons, and how to spin the silk into thread. She showed them techniques that would allow them to create fabrics of extraordinary beauty and value, ensuring that they and their descendants would never want for prosperity.

“This knowledge is my wedding gift to you,” she told Kim Lang as she transformed permanently into mortal form. “Through silk-making, our love will touch countless lives and bring beauty into the world for generations to come.”

Kim Lang and the mortal Princess Ngoc Nu were married beneath the very mulberry trees where she had taught the villagers to cultivate silkworms. Their wedding feast was attended by the entire village, and the cloth they wore—woven from celestial silk and earthly cotton together—was so beautiful it seemed to glow with its own inner light.

They lived together for many happy years, their love deepening with each passing season. Princess Ngoc Nu never regretted her choice to become mortal, finding in human life a richness and meaning that all of heaven’s pleasures could not match.

When they grew old together, their hair silver as the silk threads they had once woven, Kim Lang would often marvel at the sacrifice his wife had made for love.

“Do you ever miss your immortality, my dear?” he would ask.

And Princess Ngoc Nu would smile, touching his wrinkled hand with her own. “How can I miss something cold and distant when I have lived a life full of warmth and connection? Every day with you has been more precious than centuries in paradise.”

When their mortal lives finally ended, the village people said that two spirits could be seen ascending to heaven together—no longer separated by the gulf between divine and human, but united in love that had transformed them both.

The gift of silk-making that Princess Ngoc Nu had given to humanity spread throughout Vietnam and eventually across the world. Every time someone wears silk or admires its beauty, they are touched by the legacy of a celestial princess who chose love over privilege, mortality over immortality, and connection over perfection.

The Story of the Jade Emperor’s Daughter became a beloved tale throughout Vietnam, teaching that true love requires sacrifice, that the greatest gifts come from the heart rather than from power, and that sometimes choosing a brief life filled with meaning and connection is wiser than accepting eternal existence without love.

And in the mulberry groves where silkworms still spin their precious cocoons, people say that on certain moonlit nights, you can still see the spirits of Kim Lang and Princess Ngoc Nu, forever working together at their celestial loom, weaving threads of starlight into fabric that shimmers with the beauty of love that conquered heaven itself.