The Story of the Magic Fan

In a small village nestled between the Red River and rolling green hills, there lived a poor farmer named Duc. Though he worked from sunrise to sunset tending his small plot of rice paddies, he could barely grow enough to feed his family. The soil was dry and hard, and year after year, the rains came either too late or too early, making it impossible to have a good harvest.

Duc lived in a humble bamboo house with his wife Lan and their young daughter Mai. Despite their poverty, they were a loving family who shared whatever little they had with their neighbors.

One particularly harsh summer, when the sun blazed mercilessly and no rain had fallen for months, Duc watched helplessly as his rice plants withered and turned brown. The village well had nearly run dry, and families were beginning to go hungry.

“What will we do?” Lan asked one evening, cradling little Mai who had grown thin from lack of proper food. “The other farmers are talking about leaving the village to find work in the city.”

Duc’s heart ached as he looked at his struggling family. “I don’t know, my dear wife. But I cannot give up. This land has been in my family for generations. There must be a way.”

That night, as Duc lay awake worrying about his family’s future, he heard a weak voice calling from outside his house. “Help… please help…”

He rushed outside and found an elderly woman collapsed by the side of the road. She was clearly exhausted and dehydrated, her clothes torn and dusty from travel.

Without hesitation, Duc carried the old woman into his house. Though his family had little food and water left, he and Lan shared what they had, giving the stranger their last bowl of rice porridge and their precious remaining water.

“You are too kind,” the old woman said, tears streaming down her weathered face. “You give your last food to a stranger when your own family is hungry.”

“It is only right,” Duc replied simply. “A person in need is more important than our own comfort.”

The old woman rested in their home for three days, growing stronger under their care. On the morning of the fourth day, she called Duc to her side.

“My dear young man,” she said, her eyes twinkling with an mysterious light, “you have shown me extraordinary kindness. I am not what I appear to be.”

As she spoke, the old woman’s appearance began to change. Her bent back straightened, her gray hair became flowing and lustrous, and her worn clothes transformed into beautiful silk robes. Before Duc’s amazed eyes stood a graceful fairy, radiating gentle power and wisdom.

“I am Tiên Bà, a fairy who travels the earth to test the hearts of mortals,” she explained. “You have passed this test with honor. Your kindness and generosity, even in your own time of great need, have touched my heart.”

From her flowing robes, the fairy pulled out an exquisite fan made of what appeared to be clouds and moonbeams. The handle was carved from white jade, and the delicate paper seemed to shimmer with inner light.

“This is no ordinary fan,” Tiên Bà said, placing it carefully in Duc’s hands. “It has the power to control the weather. But remember – such power must be used wisely and with a pure heart.”

She taught him the magic words: “When you wave the fan toward the east and speak the word ‘Mưa,’ rain will come. Wave it toward the west and say ‘Nắng,’ and the sun will shine. To the north with ‘Gió,’ and wind will blow. To the south with ‘Tĩnh,’ and all will be calm.”

“But beware,” the fairy warned, her expression becoming serious. “This fan will only work for one whose heart remains pure and whose actions serve the good of all. If you ever use it for selfish gain or to harm others, its power will be lost forever.”

With those words, Tiên Bà disappeared like morning mist, leaving only the faint scent of lotus blossoms in the air.

Duc stared at the magical fan in his hands, hardly daring to believe what had happened. His wife Lan emerged from the house, having heard the conversation.

“Is it real?” she whispered, her eyes wide with wonder.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Duc replied. He stepped into his withered rice field, raised the fan toward the east, and spoke the word: “Mưa!”

Immediately, dark clouds gathered in the clear sky. Within minutes, gentle rain began to fall, the first rain the village had seen in months. The villagers came running from their houses, laughing and dancing in the precious rainfall.

As the days passed, Duc used the fan thoughtfully and carefully. He brought rain when the crops needed water, sunshine when the grain needed to ripen, and gentle winds to help pollinate the flowers. Soon, not only his own rice paddies but all the fields in the village were flourishing.

Word of the miraculous weather changes spread to neighboring villages. One day, a delegation of farmers from a drought-stricken area arrived, begging for help.

“Please,” their leader pleaded, “our children are starving. Our wells have run dry, and our crops have failed for three years running. We’ve heard that your village has been blessed with perfect weather. Is there anything you can do to help us?”

Without hesitation, Duc accompanied them back to their village. He used the magic fan to bring life-giving rain to their parched fields and gentle sunshine to help their crops grow. Soon, their village too was thriving.

But Duc’s generosity created a problem. As word spread about the magical weather in the villages he had helped, more and more delegations arrived seeking assistance. Some came from hundreds of miles away, having traveled for weeks to reach him.

Duc never turned anyone away. He traveled from village to village, using the fan to help wherever there was need. His own crops at home flourished under his wife’s care, but he was rarely there to enjoy the prosperity he had brought to his family.

One day, while Duc was helping a distant village recover from a devastating flood, a greedy mandarin named Lord Hoang heard about the magic fan. This cruel official ruled over several provinces and was known for his avarice and selfishness.

“A peasant with such power?” Lord Hoang sneered when his spies reported back to him. “This cannot be allowed. Such a treasure should belong to someone of importance – like myself.”

He sent his soldiers to Duc’s village with orders to seize the fan. When they arrived, Duc was away helping farmers in the mountains, so the soldiers threatened Lan and little Mai.

“Tell your husband that Lord Hoang demands the magic fan,” the captain declared. “If he does not surrender it within seven days, we will arrest your entire family and confiscate all your property.”

When Duc returned and heard what had happened, his heart was heavy with worry. He could flee with his family, but that would mean abandoning all the people who depended on his help. Yet if he gave the fan to the cruel mandarin, it would surely be used for selfish purposes.

“What should I do?” he asked his wife that night. “The fairy warned that the fan would lose its power if used selfishly. But if I refuse Lord Hoang, our family will suffer.”

Lan took his hands in hers. “My husband, you have always done what is right, even when it was difficult. Trust in your good heart – it has never led us wrong.”

The next morning, Duc made his decision. When Lord Hoang’s soldiers arrived to collect the fan, he met them with dignity.

“I will come with you to speak with Lord Hoang myself,” he announced. “But the fan stays with me until I understand how he plans to use it.”

At Lord Hoang’s palace, the mandarin demanded the fan immediately. “You are just a peasant!” he shouted. “I am a lord appointed by the emperor himself. Hand over that fan, or face the consequences!”

Duc stood his ground calmly. “My lord, this fan was given to me to help those in need. May I ask how you plan to use it?”

Lord Hoang’s face twisted with greed. “I will use it to make my own lands more prosperous than any in the kingdom. I will control the weather for my personal gain and charge other provinces for favorable conditions. I will become the most powerful man in all of Vietnam!”

“Then I cannot give it to you,” Duc said simply.

Enraged, Lord Hoang ordered his guards to seize the fan by force. But as soon as the greedy mandarin’s hands touched the magical object, something extraordinary happened.

The fan began to dissolve like smoke, its beautiful jade handle crumbling to dust and its shimmering paper blowing away on the wind. Within moments, nothing remained but a handful of ordinary dust.

“No!” Lord Hoang screamed, but it was too late.

As the fan disappeared, the fairy Tiên Bà appeared in the courtyard, her face serene but firm.

“The fan has served its purpose,” she announced. “Duc has proven that his heart remains pure even when faced with threats and temptation. Because he refused to let the fan be used for selfish purposes, its true magic has been fulfilled.”

She turned to Duc with a gentle smile. “You no longer need the fan, dear friend. Your kindness and wisdom have already changed the world around you. Look and see.”

Suddenly, Duc could see what his selfless actions had accomplished. All the villages he had helped were now working together, sharing water and crops during difficult times. The farmers had learned to read the signs of weather themselves and to prepare for both drought and flood. Communities that had once been isolated were now connected by bonds of mutual aid and friendship.

“This is the true magic,” Tiên Bà explained. “Not the power to control the weather, but the power to bring people together in kindness and cooperation. You have planted seeds of generosity that will grow and spread for generations.”

Lord Hoang, seeing the fairy’s power and understanding that his greed had cost him everything, fell to his knees in repentance. “Please forgive me,” he begged. “I see now how wrong I was.”

The fairy looked at him with compassion. “Redemption is possible for all who truly seek it. Learn from Duc’s example. Use your position to help your people, not to enrich yourself.”

From that day forward, Lord Hoang became a changed man. He used his wealth and authority to help the poor and to ensure that no village in his provinces ever went without aid during times of hardship.

Duc returned home to his family, where he found that their rice paddies continued to prosper through natural means. The techniques he had learned while helping other villages served him well, and their small farm became an example of sustainable and thoughtful agriculture.

Years passed, and Duc became known throughout the land not as the man with the magic fan, but as the teacher who showed people how to work together for the common good. Young farmers came from far and wide to learn from him, not about magic, but about kindness, cooperation, and respect for the natural world.

When Duc grew old, he gathered the village children around him and told them the story of the magic fan. “Remember,” he would say, “the greatest magic is not in controlling the world around us, but in choosing to use whatever gifts we have to help others.”

And in the village where Duc had lived his simple, generous life, the people established a festival each year to celebrate the lesson of the magic fan. On this day, neighbors shared their harvests with those in need, communities came together to help each other, and everyone remembered that true prosperity comes not from taking, but from giving.

The spirit of the magic fan lived on, not in any object, but in the hearts of all those who chose kindness over selfishness, cooperation over competition, and generosity over greed.

Vietnamese Cultural Note: This story embodies the Vietnamese values of community cooperation and mutual aid, particularly important in agricultural societies. The concept of “tương thân tương ái” (mutual love and assistance) is central to Vietnamese culture, emphasizing that individual prosperity is meaningless without community wellbeing.