Reposted | Fuzhou Sisheng & Xunmeng Troupe: “The Story of Handan” — Before the millet has even cooked, life has already slipped away.

Today, the Dream-Chasing Troupe arrived before Yuming Hall.

A small pot was steaming.
A pot of uncooked yellow millet rice is simmering.

The top scholar, Huang, was the first to step forward,
It circled the stove twice, its tail flicking gently, its eyes fixed intently on the pot.

Du Mengmeng watched the rice fragrance rise, a hint of confusion on her face:

“The rice isn’t even cooked yet—how could you possibly have already finished a forty-year dream?”

Lin Xiaochuan opened the “Fuzhou Treasures Directory” and pointed to today’s “guest of dreams”— "The Story of Handan."

It is not a gentle, sweet dream,
Rather, it is a grand dream that awakens one.

This time, let “The Tale of Handan” answer for itself.

My name is “The Story of Handan.”

My story takes place at an inn in Handan.

The scholar Lu Sheng passed by here, full of complaints,
He feels he is talented, yet no one recognizes his worth.
Though he harbored ambitions, he never saw the day when his talents would be recognized.

At that moment, the shopkeeper was cooking a pot of yellow millet rice.

The meal was not yet cooked when Lu Sheng encountered a Daoist.
The Daoist did not expound grand principles,

He simply handed him a pillow.

Lu Sheng leaned against his pillow and fell asleep,

With that one sleep, she stepped into another chapter of her life.

In his dream, Lu Sheng seemed as though he had suddenly been chosen by fate.

He passed the imperial examinations with flying colors and embarked on a career in government.

He took a wife and had children, rising to the highest rank of minister.

The fame, wealth, and glory that once seemed unattainable,
One by one, they came before him.

But life never grants us only glory.

He, too, endured suspicion, exile, fear, and loss.
Just a moment ago, I was still standing on high ground,

The next moment, you could plummet to the bottom.

Over forty years, Lu Sheng tasted the heights of success in life,
I, too, have tasted the fickle hand of fate.

Only when he suddenly awoke did he realize—

I’m still at the hotel in Handan,
The millet porridge in the pot is not yet cooked.

Upon hearing this, Du Mengmeng was momentarily taken aback:

“So, he lived through most of his life in his dreams, but only a brief moment in reality?”

Lin Xiaochuan nodded.

In the time it takes to eat a meal, Lu Sheng witnessed the rise and fall of glory and disgrace.
Those official ranks, wealth, fame, and gains and losses,
After waking up, they all vanished like smoke.

The top scholar, Huang, was lying face down by the stove. He looked up at the yellow millet rice that still hadn’t cooked through, then glanced at Lin Xiaochuan, as if he, too, couldn’t quite make sense of it:
How can the span of a single pot of rice hold an entire lifetime?

Fu Fuzi said:

“This is precisely what makes “The Tale of Handan” so fascinating,”
It doesn’t simply advise people to want nothing at all,
Rather, it invites one to first see clearly what exactly they are pursuing.

Many people remember me because of “The Dream of the Yellow Millet.”

But what Tang Xianzu truly wanted to write,
No matter how bizarre the dream may be,
Rather, it is that lingering attachment in the human heart.

It is hardly surprising that Lu Sheng aspired to fame and success,
It’s nothing to be ashamed of to want to be seen and to change your destiny.

It’s just that when a person stakes their entire life on “getting,”
The more one gains, the more one fears losing it.

So, I’m not mocking people’s aspirations,

I’m just gently reminding you:

Don’t wait until you’ve lived your whole life,
Only then did I realize that I had never truly figured out what really matters.

Centuries have passed, and the warmth of the yellow‑millet rice has long since faded.

But Lu Sheng’s dream,

It still makes people today stop and think:

Is what we’re desperately striving for really worth it?
Are the things we fear losing really that important?
If you had only enough time for one meal left in your life,

Will we still choose the same path?

Lin Xiaochuan closed the “Fuzhou Treasures Catalogue” and said softly:

“So it turns out that ‘The Tale of Handan’ is not about someone else’s folly.”
“What it asks is also that lingering ache in everyone’s heart.”

My name is “The Story of Handan.”

I used a dream to tell those who came after:

Prosperity will fade, and gains and losses will dissipate.
What truly matters,

Don’t waste your entire life,

Living is but a dream in pursuit of hollow fame.

The yellow millet rice is cooked; it’s time to wake from the dream.

Today, we became acquainted with “The Tale of Handan.”

It takes the time of a single meal,
Let Lu Sheng witness the rise and fall of forty years of glory and prosperity;

It also helps those who come after to understand:

Some pursuits may seem lively, but when you wake up, they’re empty.

Lin Xiaochuan gazed at Yumingtang and said softly:

“The most remarkable aspect of Tang Xianzu’s writing about dreams is…”

It’s not how strange the dream is,
Rather, after waking from the dream,

“Will people take another look at themselves?”

Stepping out of Yuming Hall, the breeze still carried a faint scent of rice.

Lin Xiaochuan glanced back:

“Let’s go. The rice is ready—time we started living our own lives.”

This is “The Tale of Handan.”

A fleeting dream,
A wake-up call.