The Story of Tiet Lieu and the Banh Chung

During the reign of the great King Hung Vuong the Sixth, in the ancient kingdom of Van Lang, there lived a wise ruler who deeply loved his eighteen sons. As the king grew older and contemplated the succession of his throne, he found himself faced with a difficult decision—each of his sons possessed admirable qualities, and choosing among them seemed nearly impossible.

The king was known throughout the land for his fairness and wisdom. Under his rule, the kingdom had prospered, the people lived in peace, and the harvests were abundant. But he knew that the strength of a kingdom depended not just on its current prosperity, but on the wisdom of future leaders.

“I must find a way to determine which of my sons possesses the deepest understanding of what makes our people strong and our kingdom endure,” King Hung Vuong reflected as he walked through his palace gardens one evening.

After much contemplation, the king summoned all eighteen of his sons to the royal court.

“My beloved sons,” he announced, “the time has come for me to choose my successor. But this choice must be made not through favoritism or chance, but through a test that reveals the true character and wisdom of each candidate.”

The princes listened intently as their father continued.

“I want each of you to travel throughout our kingdom and beyond, seeking the most precious and meaningful gift you can find. But this gift must meet specific criteria—it must be something that represents the essence of our people, something that connects us to our ancestors and our land, and something that will endure through generations.”

The king paused, looking at each of his sons with deep affection.

“You have one year to complete this quest. When you return, I will evaluate not just what you have brought, but why you chose it and what it reveals about your understanding of our kingdom and our people.”

Seventeen of the princes immediately began making elaborate plans. They organized expeditions to distant lands, gathered teams of advisors and scouts, and prepared to search the far corners of the known world for the most extraordinary treasures they could find.

Prince Lang, the eldest, announced his intention to journey to the legendary kingdoms of the north, seeking a phoenix feather that was said to grant eternal life to any ruler who possessed it.

Prince Dung planned to travel across the great ocean to acquire pearls from the deepest sea caves, pearls so perfect they could illuminate an entire palace with their inner light.

Prince Minh would venture into the highest mountains to find jade so pure it was said to contain the wisdom of ancient dragons.

Each prince had a grand vision of the magnificent treasure he would bring back to win his father’s approval and the right to rule the kingdom.

But Prince Tiet Lieu, the eighteenth and youngest son, felt overwhelmed by the challenge. Unlike his brothers, he had no desire to travel to distant lands or seek exotic treasures. Instead, he found himself drawn to walk among the common people of his own kingdom, observing their daily lives and listening to their stories.

“How can I compete with my brothers’ grand quests?” he wondered as he sat by the village well, watching farmers return from their fields and mothers prepare evening meals for their families. “I have no knowledge of distant treasures or magical objects.”

As the months passed, Tiet Lieu’s brothers sent back reports of their adventures—tales of dangerous journeys, encounters with foreign kings, negotiations for rare artifacts, and narrow escapes from bandits and wild beasts.

Meanwhile, Tiet Lieu continued his quiet observations of village life. He helped farmers during the harvest season, assisted craftsmen in their workshops, and spent long evenings listening to the elderly villagers tell stories of their ancestors and the traditions that had sustained the Vietnamese people through generations of hardship and prosperity.

One evening, as Tet—the New Year celebration—approached, Tiet Lieu was visiting with an elderly woman named Ba Tam, who was known throughout the village for her cooking and her wisdom.

“Grandmother Ba Tam,” Tiet Lieu said as he helped her prepare sticky rice for the New Year celebration, “can you tell me what you think is the most precious thing in our kingdom?”

Ba Tam smiled as she stirred the pot of glutinous rice, adding mung beans and carefully seasoned pork.

“Child,” she said thoughtfully, “I have lived through many seasons, many harvests, many celebrations and sorrows. In all that time, I have learned that the most precious things are not those that shine like gold or sparkle like jewels.”

She paused in her stirring and looked directly at the young prince.

“The most precious things are those that nourish the body and the spirit, that connect us to our ancestors and to each other, that can be shared equally among rich and poor, and that remind us of who we are and where we come from.”

That night, as Tiet Lieu helped Ba Tam wrap sticky rice in dong leaves to create bánh chưng for the New Year celebration, he experienced a moment of profound understanding.

“These simple ingredients,” he realized, “represent everything that makes our people strong. The rice comes from our fertile fields, tended by our hardworking farmers. The mung beans provide nourishment and represent the harmony between different elements working together. The pork shows our connection to the animals we raise and care for. The dong leaves that wrap everything come from our forests and represent the protection our land provides.”

As he worked with Ba Tam through the night, carefully forming each square cake and learning the traditional techniques passed down through generations, Tiet Lieu felt a deep sense of connection to his people and their history.

“This food is not exotic or rare,” he thought, “but it is perfect in its simplicity and meaning. It nourishes the body, but more importantly, it nourishes the bonds between families and communities.”

When his brothers returned from their year-long quests, they brought wonders that amazed the entire court. Prince Lang carried a feather that seemed to glow with inner fire. Prince Dung presented pearls that lit up the throne room with ethereal light. Prince Minh offered jade so beautiful it seemed to contain entire landscapes within its depths.

Each prince presented his treasure with elaborate speeches about the dangers he had faced and the significance of his acquisition.

Finally, it was Tiet Lieu’s turn. He stepped forward carrying a simple woven basket, and from it he withdrew several packages wrapped in dong leaves.

“Father,” he said quietly, “I have not traveled to distant lands or sought magical treasures. Instead, I have lived among our people and learned from them. I offer you bánh chưng—square cakes made from sticky rice, mung beans, and pork, wrapped in dong leaves.”

Some of his brothers smirked at the humble presentation, but King Hung Vuong leaned forward with interest.

“Tell me, my son, why you consider this simple food to be the most precious gift you could find.”

Tiet Lieu bowed respectfully and began to explain.

“Father, this bánh chưng may appear simple, but it contains the essence of our kingdom and our people. The square shape represents the earth that provides for us, stable and dependable. The green dong leaves represent the forests and fields that surround and protect our villages.”

He unwrapped one of the cakes, revealing the layers within.

“The white sticky rice represents the purity and unity of our people—thousands of individual grains that become strong when joined together. The yellow mung beans represent the sun that gives life to our crops and warmth to our families. The pork represents the animals we raise and the prosperity of our farms.”

King Hung Vuong tasted the bánh chưng, chewing slowly and thoughtfully.

“But most importantly, Father,” Tiet Lieu continued, “this food connects us to our ancestors who created this recipe, to our neighbors who share it during celebrations, and to future generations who will continue the tradition. It is made not by magic or exotic ingredients, but by the hands and hearts of our people, seasoned with love and dedication.”

The king nodded slowly as he considered his son’s words.

“And unlike treasures that can be stolen or lost,” Tiet Lieu added, “this gift can be recreated by anyone who understands its meaning. It belongs not to kings or nobles alone, but to all our people equally.”

King Hung Vuong stood and addressed his assembled sons.

“My children, you have all brought me gifts of great value, and I am proud of your courage and dedication. But Tiet Lieu has brought me something more precious than any treasure—he has brought me understanding.”

The king lifted the bánh chưng for all to see.

“This simple cake represents the wisdom that a true ruler must possess—the knowledge that a kingdom’s strength lies not in its exotic treasures or distant conquests, but in the daily lives and enduring traditions of its people.”

He looked at each of his sons with love and pride.

“You have all shown me your ability to acquire valuable things, but Tiet Lieu has shown me his ability to recognize what was valuable all along—the wisdom, traditions, and unity of our own people.”

King Hung Vuong placed his hand on Tiet Lieu’s shoulder.

“Therefore, Tiet Lieu will be my successor, not because his gift was the most expensive, but because it showed the deepest understanding of what makes a kingdom truly wealthy.”

The other princes, after their initial disappointment, came to understand their father’s wisdom. They realized that in seeking exotic treasures, they had overlooked the profound value of their own cultural heritage.

To honor Tiet Lieu’s insight and to ensure that future generations would remember the lesson, King Hung Vuong declared that bánh chưng would become the traditional food of Tet celebrations throughout the kingdom.

“Every New Year,” he proclaimed, “families will gather to make bánh chưng together, remembering that our greatest treasures are not things we acquire, but traditions we preserve and share.”

From that day forward, the making and sharing of bánh chưng became one of Vietnam’s most cherished traditions. During Tet celebrations, families would spend days preparing the sticky rice cakes together, telling stories, sharing memories, and strengthening the bonds that connected them to each other and to their ancestors.

The legend of Prince Tiet Lieu and his bánh chưng became a beloved story told during these preparations, reminding each generation that wisdom lies not in seeking what is distant and exotic, but in understanding and honoring what is close to home.

And so the simple cake that won a kingdom continues to nourish Vietnamese families today, carrying within its humble ingredients the profound truth that the greatest treasures are often the ones we already possess—the love of family, the wisdom of ancestors, and the traditions that connect us across generations like threads in an unbreakable tapestry of shared heritage.