The Water Dragon Student and the Rain of Drought

On an autumn evening in the north, the cold wind blew through the leaves of the ancient banyan tree in front of the courtyard, carrying the scent of dry straw and the sound of children reading aloud in a gentle hum. In a simple thatched hall, Chu Van An sat cross-legged with his eyes half closed, though in truth he was quietly watching a young man who, as soon as the lesson ended, walked toward the large pond behind the garden. The moment that figure touched the water, he vanished without a ripple. The teacher sighed, his thin hands clutching the hem of his robe: he had known for some time that his student was not human, but a thuồng luồng — a dragon that lived beneath the waters.

It had begun several years earlier, when a stranger came asking to study. Chu Van An accepted him, finding the young man intelligent and diligent, yet mysterious in his ways, with no one knowing where he came from. The other students, curious, spied on him and reported to their teacher: every evening, the young man went to the pond and disappeared without a trace. Chu Van An was a true Confucian scholar, a man of great virtue who lived in the same era as Truong Han Sieu and Pham Ngu Lao. He said nothing, and continued teaching in silence. But that year, a severe drought struck the north. The fields cracked open, the people suffered greatly, and children grew thin from hunger. Looking at his pale, weary students, he felt his heart being torn apart.

He called that student aside. In the quiet thatched room, with only the wind whistling past the pond bank, he spoke slowly:

"I know that you are a thuồng luồng, who has come to study out of love for the Way. I cherish you, and I wish to teach you the way of the sages. But the people are suffering from drought. Go now, and bring rain to save them."

The young man bowed his head, shoulders slumped, hands gripping the edge of his robe. With a sorrowful voice, he answered:

"I dare not disobey my teacher's words. But this task is beyond my strength, and I must sacrifice myself."

Chu Van An was startled, but his worry for the people was too great, and he only nodded. The next morning, in the open courtyard, the young man stepped out beneath the sky, wrote something on paper, and burned it as a spell. The smoke rose, dark clouds gathered, and rain poured over the fields of the north. The people rejoiced, but when he returned to the teaching hall, the student was gone.

The turning point came the following morning, when Chu Van An went out to the fields with his students and saw the body of a thuồng luồng floating up, dead and swollen. He stood frozen, tears streaming down his face, unable to speak. That dragon had defied the mandate of heaven, resisting the law of cause and effect (karmic law): the drought was the people's karmic retribution for squandering water in their past lives — bathing in full tubs, washing with wasteful abandon, drinking half a bottle and discarding the rest, watering flowers in excess. Now they were bearing the fruit of that karma. The thuồng luồng brought rain to save them, taking their karma upon himself. This was not in accord with the mandate of heaven, and so he died.

After that day, Chu Van An did not blame or scold anyone. He only told his students:

"Beings not born as humans, however great their powers, cannot attain the Way without being born as human beings. Remember, children: heaven has its law. Do not defy it."

He returned to his teaching, but every season of drought, he remembered the sorrowful eyes of his dragon student. The villagers later told the story of a great Confucian teacher so virtuous that a dragon took human form to study under him, and of a rain that year which transformed the harvest — but at the price of a life of one who was not human.

The Meaning of the Story

Beings not born as human, even dragons with miraculous powers who appear in human form, cannot easily attain sainthood. The law of cause and effect (karmic law) cannot be defied. This story reminds us to cherish the human body, to live according to the Way, not to transgress heaven's law out of pity alone, and to remember that only in a human body can one cultivate and realize the truth.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang.