The Benevolent Protector

In which a wandering cultivator discovers that roast ducks and pickled radishes are apparently acceptable bribes for a benevolent dragon.

Dragons feature heavily in Chinese mythology and culture. When used in stories, I have noticed three typical trends – there are dragons who care for humans (not that common to be honest), dragons that are openly antagonistic to humans (far more common), and those who really couldn’t care less about humans – hence, the good, bad, and indifferent.  I have written three stories about these different kinds of dragons, but each has a twist.  They will all be posted separately in five parts each.  I hope you enjoy them.  Please tell me what you do and don’t like about the stories.

Let me introduce you to the Rainshade Dragon, in this series about Xianxia dragons; the good, the bad, and the indifferent.

The Storyteller

The firelight flickered across the storyteller’s face as he leaned forward, his patched robe swaying in the evening breeze. A crowd of villagers gathered around him, children squatting at the front with wide eyes, while the elders sat cross-legged behind, chewing on sunflower seeds.

“Ah, dragons,” the storyteller began, his voice deep and deliberate. “What do we truly know about them? Are they gods? Guardians of the Dao? Or perhaps… just very, very large lizards who think far too highly of themselves?”

Laughter rippled through the crowd, though the village priest frowned disapprovingly.

The storyteller smiled. “Take the Rainshade Dragon, for instance. The people of Luohe will tell you it is the kindest of all dragons—a benevolent protector who brings life-giving rain. But let me tell you something, my friends: not all that glitters is gold, and not every ‘good’ dragon is what it seems.”

He straightened, his smile widening. “But don’t take my word for it. Let me tell you a tale. It begins, as many tales do, in a small town full of faith, superstition… and roast ducks.”

Life in Luohe

The small rural town of Luohe sat in a shallow valley, surrounded by fields filled with young, wilting plants. The region had been plagued by drought for decades, but Luohe had one advantage: its Rainshade Dragon, Yǔ Bì Lóng. Or at least, that’s what the locals claimed.

Every year, the people celebrated the Tribute Festival, a grand event where they offered treasures to their patron dragon in exchange for rain. This year’s festival was particularly ostentatious.

The town square was bursting with activity. Children skipped through the streets carrying garlands of flowers, while merchants hawked trinkets shaped like dragons: jade pendants, bronze figurines, and even stuffed dragon dolls for the little ones. In the centre of the square stood a towering statue of the Rainshade Dragon, painted in dazzling shades of blue and gold.

At the base of the statue, people were busy piling up their offerings. A farmer carefully placed a tray of steamed buns next to a bolt of fine cloth. A blacksmith added an intricately wrought dagger. A merchant proudly presented a roast duck, glistening with honey glaze.

Standing near the offerings was Elder Zhang, the self-proclaimed expert on all things dragon-related. He wore a robe embroidered with tiny dragons and clutched a long staff topped with a jade dragon’s head.

“Place your offerings carefully!” he barked at a nervous young man carrying a basket of apples. “Do you want to offend the Rainshade Dragon? Remember, the rains only come to those who show proper reverence!”

Xu Han Arrives

On the edge of the square, a woman watched the proceedings with a bemused expression. Her name was Xu Han, and she was not impressed.

Xu Han was a wandering cultivator, lean and sharp-eyed, with a sword strapped to her back and a jade pendant hanging from her neck. Her long black hair was bound into a warrior’s tail, bound with a small bronze guan keeping it in place.  

She had seen many strange rituals in her travels, but this one seemed very grand, even for a relatively prosperous small town.

As she watched, an elderly farmer approached the statue, holding a large jar of pickled radishes.

“Pickled radishes?” Xu Han muttered under her breath. “Is the dragon planning a banquet?”

A passing woman overheard her and gasped. “Don’t mock the dragon! It will hear you!”

Xu Han turned to see a short, round-faced woman glaring at her. “It hears everything,” the woman continued. “The Rainshade Dragon watches over us, bringing rain to our fields and blessings to our homes. Without it, we’d all starve.”

Xu Han raised an eyebrow. “And all it asks for in return is your life savings and a roast duck. Sounds fair.”

The woman looked scandalised and scurried away, muttering something about blasphemers.

Meeting Elder Zhang

Xu Han’s sarcastic commentary eventually caught the attention of Elder Zhang, who marched over to confront her.

“Cutivator,” he said, his voice brimming with self-importance, “it is one thing to be ignorant, but quite another to spread your ignorance to others. The Rainshade Dragon is our town’s protector. Without its blessings, we would perish.”

Xu Han glanced at the piles of offerings. “Looks to me like your ‘protector’ is doing pretty well for itself.”

Elder Zhang bristled. “The dragon has every right to demand tribute. It is a divine being, far beyond the comprehension of mortals like you.”

Xu Han quirked one eyebrow. “And yet, it still likes roast duck. Funny how divine beings have such mortal tastes.”

Before Elder Zhang could sputter a reply, a loud cheer went up from the assembled townsfolk. A young boy pointed excitedly at the horizon.

“Look! The rain’s coming!”

The Rain’s Arrival

Dark clouds gathered in the distance, rolling across the sky like an approaching army. The people gasped and began to bow before the statue of the Rainshade Dragon, chanting prayers of thanks.

Within minutes, a gentle rain began to fall, soaking the parched earth, and slowly reviving the wilted plants. Thetownsfolk cheered and danced in the square, their faith renewed.

Xu Han, however, was unconvinced. She watched the clouds carefully, noting their movement.

“That’s just a summer storm,” she muttered. “It would have rained whether you gave the dragon a roast duck or not.”

Elder Zhang, who was supervising the transfer of the goods into sturdy wagons, overheard her and scowled. “Blasphemy! The Rainshade Dragon commands the rain! Do you think storms come and go by coincidence?”

Xu Han shrugged. “I think nature works just fine on its own.”

Suspicion Grows

As the townsfolk celebrated, Xu Han couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. She had travelled through many drought-stricken towns and villages before, and none of them had a conveniently timed rainstorm right after a festival.

She approached one of the farmers, an older man with sun-weathered skin and kind eyes.

“Does it always rain after the festival?” she asked.

The farmer nodded. “The Rainshade Dragon is very generous. But… well, sometimes it’s late.”

Xu Han frowned. “Late?”

The farmer hesitated, glancing around nervously. “A few years ago, we held the festival, but the rain didn’t come for weeks. Elder Zhang said it was because our offerings weren’t good enough.”

Xu Han’s frown deepened. “And you believed him?”

The farmer sighed. “What else could we do? Without the dragon, we’d have nothing.”

Xu Han made a non-commital noise of acknowledgement.  But her sharp eyes had noted the Elder directing a servant to carry a small, carefully curated portion of the tribute gifts to his own home, before he turned and led the tribute procession out of the village and onto the road leading up to the mountain.

The Decision

As night fell, the townsfolk gathered for a modest feast in honour of the Rainshade Dragon, once the members of the tribute procession had returned. Elder Zhang gave a long-winded speech about the dragon’s “boundless generosity,” while Xu Han sat on the outskirts, picking at a bowl of rice and stewing over what she had learned. She couldn’t help thinking the feast would have been more celebratory with roast duck and pickled radishes.

The timing of the rain. The strange excuses when it didn’t come. The lavish tributes. Elder Zhang’s appropriation of a portion of the tribute.  It all felt too convenient.

“Something’s not right,” she muttered to herself.  “I wonder if there even is a dragon?”

She made up her mind. The answers she sought lay in the Misty Ravine, where the Rainshade Dragon was said to reside. If the dragon was real, she would confront it. And if it wasn’t… well, she’d have a few choice words for Elder Zhang.

The Storyteller’s Closing Hook

The storyteller leaned back, his grin widening as he surveyed the captivated faces of his audience.

“And so, Xu Han set out for the Misty Ravine, determined to uncover the truth. Was the Rainshade Dragon truly the benevolent protector the villagers believed it to be? Or was there more to the story? Come back tomorrow, my friends, and you shall see.”

With that, he tossed another log onto the fire, sending sparks flying into the night sky.

Have you missed Any of The Rainshade Dragon Series – Find All the Parts Here!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Links For Writers – Writing About Dragons

Writing About Dragons: Balancing Convention and Creativity

The Technical Aspects of Writing Dragons

Chinese Bestiary