By the old locust grove outside Qingtian Village, besides the young carpenter Ashu, there lived an elderly man who guarded the river bend. Everyone called him Turtle Elder. No one knew where he had come from—only that he always kept watch over the long-dry river bend east of the village, with a coarse clay pot beside him, identical to Ashu's.
That year, the drought was worse than the one a century before—the soil could be rubbed into flint, and even the hearts of the locust trees had withered. Villagers prayed to the Mountain God and then the Dragon King, but nothing remained under the sky but scorching heat. Ashu thought of his mother's words and hesitated as he held his pot, when Turtle Elder hobbled over and pressed his dry hand on it: "Don't open it yet—wait for that cluster of crimson clouds to arrive."
No sooner had he spoken than a red cloud blazed in the sky, and a magnificent bird with five-colored plumage circled above: its feathers were like glowing sunset clouds, its claws like golden hooks, and sparks fell wherever it cried out—it was the Phoenix, divine beast of the south!
At the same time, a giant turtle slowly emerged from the mud of the river bend. Its shell was carved with the pattern of the Big Dipper, and wherever it moved, tiny drops of water seeped from beneath it—it was the Divine Turtle, guardian of the north!
Ashu stared in amazement as the Phoenix cried sharply: "Xuanming! The hundred-year pact is due—do you still intend to keep what is mine?"
The Divine Turtle looked up at the Phoenix, its voice like distant thunder rolling over the riverbank: "Zhuque, a century ago you unleashed the 'Heaven-Scorching Fire', drying up rivers and bringing disaster to the mortal world. That is why I sealed your life fire in clay pots, storing it with moon dew. Now the drought is upon us—if we release the fire to bring rain, your cultivation will be completely destroyed!"
It turned out that a hundred years prior, the Phoenix, in a fit of pride competing with the Dragon Clan, had recklessly summoned heavenly fire. It burned forests dry and evaporated countless rivers, leaving fields barren across the land. To save the people, the Divine Turtle had spent a thousand years of cultivation to seal the Phoenix's life fire in two clay pots—one entrusted to Ashu's mother, the other kept by itself. They had made a pact: "When great drought strikes the mortal world again, merge the fire with moon dew to relieve the people's suffering"—though this would strip the Phoenix of its divine power and reduce it to its original form.
"I have long known this day would come!" The Phoenix shook off flames from its body, its feathers red as if bleeding. "I was foolish then, harming both the world and you by making you waste your cultivation. Even if I am reduced to ashes, I must repay this debt!"
Only then did Ashu understand—the moonlight in his pot was moon dew stored by the Divine Turtle, and Turtle Elder was the turtle in human form. He hurried forward with his pot: "Divine Beasts, my mother said this pot holds a treasure to save the village—let us open it now!"
Turtle Elder shook his head gently and took out his own pot: "The moon dew must be released from both pots together to contain the power of the life fire." With that, both lids were lifted, and two pools of moonlight merged into a silver lake under the sun.
The Phoenix let out a long cry and leaped into the silver lake. Its life fire burst forth, merging with the moon dew to form a shower of red-and-white light that fell gently over the earth. In an instant, dark clouds gathered, heavy rain poured down, dry riverbeds filled with clear water, scorched crops sprouted new shoots, and even the old locust trees put forth fresh green buds.
When the rain stopped, the Phoenix had shrunk to the size of a small sparrow, its feathers dull and lifeless. The Divine Turtle crawled over and sheltered it with its shell: "Did you know I did not seal you only to punish you? Just as heavenly fire can destroy the world, it can also save it. I foresaw this disaster long ago and meant to bear it with you."
It turned out that the cultivation the Divine Turtle had spent was to preserve a glimmer of life for the Phoenix. Slowly, it shed a piece of its shell and merged it into the Phoenix's body. The sparrow's feathers gradually regained their luster—though no longer divine, they carried a warm, gentle glow.
"No need for guilt, and no need for thanks." The Divine Turtle gazed at the revived village, its voice full of relief. "All things in heaven and earth are interconnected, opposing yet supporting one another. Grudges and kindness are both part of fate—as long as we hold compassion for the world, even as an ordinary bird or a simple turtle, we can still guard the mortal realm."
Ashu combined the two clay pots into one, firing a new vessel and carving two characters on its side: "Harmony and Life". From then on, every full moon, the pot would hold not only moonlight but also a red feather and half a turtle shell—as the villagers said, the Phoenix and Divine Turtle were watching over them, reminding all of the bonds and responsibilities that tie the world together.