broke in rain. The Wei River rushed down from the Kansu mountains, swamping the level plains, rivaling the Yellow River with which it merged at T'ungkuan. The bazaars were flooded. Tranquilly the merchants viewed the destruction of their stocks, leaving all things to take their natural course. If it did nothing else it taught a lesson. It verified the philosophy of Lao Tzu, "The Old Boy," who was born with a beard, and learned wisdom in his cradle: "The reasons why rivers and seas are able to be lords over a hundred mountain streams, is that they know how to keep below them. That is why they are able to reign over all the mountain streams." To fight against the inevitable, was like fighting the wind with a bamboo sword. The flood would bring blessings to the farmer. With increased crops, would come increased profits. Increased profits would mean more money to spend at the bazaars.
In the Palace gardens, the flowers looked despondent. The eunuch, Lan Jen, the Imperial Gardener, gazed about in bewilderment. Deprived of natural love, he gave all the passion of his heart to flowers. Under his care, flowers bloomed for the round of the year. During the colder months, he selected the hardier ones. Sometimes he built small fires in the earth to warm the roots. On nights when the weather was in tumult, he remained in the garden, as though he were urging the flowers to keep fighting. Given such care and devotion, the flowers were quick to respond. It was said of Lan Jen that he molded flowers as a sculptor molds clay.
Under his hand they took new form. From the daisy,
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