Horse and I remained in our stables. Morning had dawned, hours before, and our master, Farmer Yan, still hadn’t opened the doors to the shed and make us get to work. At first, I was relieved, but after a while, I grew worried and shot my companion a glance. Horse shook his head, as if to say, not to worry, but a few minutes later, the door opened.
It was none other than Nüwa, the creator goddess.
We knew who she was, having listened to Master Yu’s stories through one of the windows of the Grand Dining Hall, where once a month, all the villagers ate together. In fact, last week’s story about how the zodiac came to be was fresh in my mind. Although we had no idea what Nüwa looked like, we knew it was her. She barely touched the ground, and as she walked, there was an air of serenity and calm, although her eyes were lined with tears and her forehead was creased.
“Your master, Farmer Yan, is dead,” she said. “I need your help.”
She touched my forehead. I felt this tingling sensation inside my body, and for a while, I couldn’t feel my hooves. But they no longer felt like hooves. My stomachs flip-flopped, and it felt as though the flesh that weighed me down as a beast of burden was no longer there. A glow surrounded me and the next thing I knew, I was standing up like a mortal. I had feet. Hands. My companion, Horse, was the same.
We looked at each other. Part of me wanted to scream and whoop for joy, but given the circumstances, it wouldn’t be appropriate as my master was dead. Horse gave a whoop and Nüwa glared at him. I could only smile, but that faded when I saw her serious face.
“You will have time to celebrate later. Please, follow me,” she ordered, and we did so. We stumbled out of the shed, trying to get used to walking on two legs, and I figured out that the best way was to observe the goddess, who seemed to float with elegance, yet walked from heel to toe. I chanted, “Heel to toe,” as I walked, trying to calm myself.
At last, we arrived outside Farmer Yan’s shed. A crowd had surrounded our master’s house, and Nüwa had to weave in and out of it to lead us to their former master’s body. Farmer Yan’s body was on display on a wooden table, and his eyes were closed. His face was pale and it looked peaceful. Two men stood before the corpse, as if presenting it to everyone. It was horrible. I couldn’t see any cuts or scars, but knowing that his body would not move like mine did saddened me. And why this display? Maybe it was to remind the village that whoever had killed Farmer Yan had better watch out–that Nüwa would find the culprit. It was only a matter of time.
“Go to the infirmary. Open up the man’s innards to see what caused his death,” the goddess commanded. The men nodded, bowed, and carried him away.
“This should not have happened,” she snarled, gritting her teeth. “Ox and Horse, I will leave you to find out who killed your Master. Do not fail me,” she said, and she walked away.
Horse and I looked at each other. Was this some kind of a joke? A few moments ago, we were farm animals. We were not expected to do very much but plough the fields and obey our master. Now, he was gone, and we were humans. We weren’t as intelligent as them and yet, we were tasked to find out how our master had died. How could she have done this? Why us?
Some of the villagers in the crowd laughed at what we were supposed to do, while others shook their heads, mourning for the loss of Farmer Yan. But slowly, all of them left, feeling disappointed by the spectacle. All that remained was us.
There was only one thing to do–go into our former master’s house.