Mi Nuong’s father was an influential Lord. He ruled all of the lands of the Red River, and his palace stood tall and majestic on its broad, sloping banks. Yet, Mi Nuong was forlorn and melancholy. Her father kept her locked away at the top of the palace’s tallest tower in order to keep her out of harm’s way. Mi Nuong felt trapped; the only company she had was her maid, and her daily routine was always the same. Every day, she would sit by her window embroidering and look out, gazing sorrowfully down at the waters rushing past far below. Often, she dreamed of being carried away in the fast-flowing rapids to distant lands.
One morning, Mi Nuong heard music floating through her open window. She hurried over to see where the sound was coming from. There, on the river below, was a little golden fishing boat. Mi Nuong heard the music rise up from the boat and caught snatches of a song: “My love is like a blossom in the breeze. My love is like a moonbeam on the waves.”
The music was captivating, drawing Mi Nuong like a flickering candle flame draws the unwary moth. The voice was clear and sweet, and Mi Nuong leaned out as far as she could to try to catch sight of the singer. As the boat bobbed past, she glimpsed the tiny figure of a man standing on the prow with a net. A sudden glimmer of hope lit up in her heart, and she felt as if she were floating on air. Perhaps this man had come to release her from the tower. Perhaps he was a Mandarin’s son in disguise—the man she was destined to marry…