copyright, Saviour Pirotta 2008

I originally wrote this Chinese version of Cinderella for the ONCE UPON A WORLD

series.  It was later discarded in favour of an Egyptian one, mainly because Ancient Egypt is an integral part of the National Curriculum in British schools. 

I include it here with minimal changes and with the original introduction.

Cinderella is one of the most popular stories in the world.  Different versions exist in at least 345 countries and cultures.  Modern retellings in books, films and plays, run into the thousands.
The earliest version of the story that we know comes from Ancient Egypt. It was written down in the 1st Century BC by the Roman historian Strabo.  Another early version comes from China.  It was set down on paper by a student called Tuan Ch’eng-shih some time between 850 to 860CE.  Tuan heard the story from his relatives and decided to commit it to paper so it wouldn’t be forgotten.
The Brothers Grimm also wrote their own version of Cinderella, based on German retellings. But the most popular version of the story today was written by the French author Charles Perrault in 1697.  He learnt the story from others but added many of the wonderful details we all associate with the story: the fairy godmother, the pumpkin changing into a golden carriage, the mice turned into footmen, and the glass slipper.
Here, for your pleasure, is the Chinese version…..    

A man lived in a cave with his two wives and two daughters. The elder wife and her child, Yeh Shen, were kind and generous, but the second wife and her daughter were cruel and horrible. They spent all their time whingeing and whining, and telling fibs about their family to anyone who would listen.
One day, the man’s elder wife fell into the river and drowned.  The poor chap was devastated. He couldn’t look at anything the elder wife had touched without bursting into tears. So he decided to go on a long journey, leaving the second wife to look after the two girls.
As soon as the man left the cave, the second wife took away Yeh Shen’s pretty clothes and forced her to put on filthy rags.  ‘You have been spoilt for too long, you little brat,’ she said, giving Yeh Shen’s belongings to her half-sister.  ‘From now on, you’ll have to do all the chores your mother did, and ours too.  Your sister and I need a rest after all the years of hard work your father forced us to do.’
That was a lie, of course.  Yeh Shen’s father had been as kind to his second wife and daughter as he had been to the first ones. But Yeh Shen was in no position to argue. Every morning she had to empty the chamber pots. After that she had to fetch water from the river, make the fish sauce for dinner, and sweep the floor with nothing more than an old hairbrush.   Soon the grime from the floor was so firmly stuck to her skin, she couldn’t wash it off.  She started evading people, so they would not comment about her threadbare clothes and grimy skin.
Now one morning Yeh-Shen was scooping water from the river when a fish got trapped in her bucket.  
    ‘Please said the fish,’ wagging its lace-like tail in a panic, ‘don’t eat me.’
    It looked at Yeh-Shen with jade-green eyes, her golden scales catching the sunlight.
Yeh Shen was so surprised to hear a fish talk, she nearly dropped the bucket.
    ‘I won’t harm you, little fish’ she said.  And she fed it a few grains of boiled rice from her pocket, then put the bucket back in the water so that the fish could swim out.
    ‘Come back tomorrow,’ she said, ‘and I’ll bring you some more rice.’
    Every day after that, Yeh Shen and the golden fish met by the river.  Soon they became the best of friends, sharing all their secrets and telling each other stories. It wasn’t long, however, before the stepmother noticed that Yeh Shen was taking more rice from the pot than usual.
    ‘Who are you sharing it with?’ she asked.
    ‘A little golden fish,’ said Yeh Shen who did not like lying.  ‘You should see her, stepmother.  She’s got eyes like jade.’
    ‘A goldfish with jade-green eyes, is it?,’ said the stepmother.  ‘This is I have to see for myself.’
    The next morning she got up before Yeh Shen and put on her ragged clothes.  Then she took the bucket to the river.  The little golden fish was already there, wagging her fins in greeting.
    ‘I brought you some rice,’ said the stepmother, her face hidden behind her stepdaughter’s shawl.  ‘Hop into the bucket.’
    The fish obeyed.  The stepmother put her hand in her pocket as if she was going to take out some rice.  But, instead of the rice, she pulled out a knife. In an instant she had killed the fish.
    Back home, she wrapped it a shroud of flour and laid it to rest in the frying pan.
    ‘What’s for breakfast, mama?’ asked Yeh Shen’s half-sister.
    ‘Rice and fish,’ laughed the stepmother cruelly, ‘I caught something tasty in the river today. ’
    When Yeh Shen heard those words, she knew that her mother had killed the little golden fish.  She rushed down to the river, crying.
    ‘Little golden fish, little golden fish,’ she called, hoping her mother had caught the wrong creature.  ‘I’ve brought you some rice.’
    But no little golden fish came.  The river flowed on mournfully and the pebbles on the riverbed knocked against each other to show how sad they were.
That night, Yeh Shen had a strange dream. Walking through a fine mist, she met an old man with a long beard.  ‘Do not despair, Yeh Shen,’ he said, ‘The spirit of the golden fish has not left you.  Keep her bones somewhere safe, for they hold the most powerful magic.  When you need help, just hold them in your hands and make a wish.’
    The dream faded and Yeh Shen woke up. Quick as a cat, she stole downstairs and rescued the fish’s bones from the rubbish heap. She hid them in a pot among her cleaning rags.
    A few weeks later, Yeh Shen’ s stepmother said, ‘It’s the Spring Festival next week.
    The Spring Festival was very important to the girls in the village. It gave them the opportunity to meet the young men who were looking for a wife.   
    ‘Mother, will you buy me a new dress?’ asked the half-sister.
    ‘Of course,’ said her mother, ‘you must look your best if you want to catch yourself a husband.’
    ‘Can I have a new dress too?’ begged Yeh Shen.  
    ‘I’m afraid you can’t come to the festival,’ said the stepmother, ‘You must stay here and guard the cave.  Otherwise someone might come in and steal all our belongings.’
    She had another reason for not letting Yeh-Shen go the festival, of course. The girl was far prettier than her own daughter. With her around, no decent young man would give her, the half-sister, a second glance.
    On the day of the festival, the stepmother and her daughter left the cave early.  Poor Yeh Shen! She desperately wanted to go to the festival but she had nothing to wear. Then she remembered the fish’s bones.  What had the old man said about them? When you need help, just ask them.  
Yeh Shen took the bones out of the pot.  ‘Please, spirit of the fish, let me go to the Spring Festival,’ she said, holding them  tightly.
    All at once, there was a roar like thunder rolling off a mountain and Yeh Shen’s rags turned into a beautiful blue dress.  The grime fell away from her skin.  Glittering slippers appeared on her tiny feet.  They were cut from the purest, lightest gold, with a pattern that looked like fish’s scales.
    Yeh Shen hurried to the festival, holding up the dress so it wouldn’t drag in the mud.  The young people were already dancing when she arrived, but the men all stopped to admire her.
    ‘Will you dance with me?’ they all begged at once, crowding around her.
    Yeh Shen danced with them all, whirling around the village square in the light of the Spring moon.
    ‘Who is that girl?’ asked all the mothers, afraid that their girls might not find a husband that night.
    ‘She looks familiar,’ said Yeh Shen’s mother, squinting in the moonlight.  ‘I’ve seen that face before but I can’t place it.’
    She moved forward to see the stranger better.  But Yeh Shen saw her coming.  She slipped out her dancing partner’s grasp and started running back home. 
Clack, clack, clack went her golden slippers on the cobblestones. 
Clomp, clomp, clomp, went the men’s boots as they chased the beautiful stranger.
At the edge of the village, Yeh Shen lost one of her slippers. She wanted to stop and look for it but there was no time. She couldn’t risk getting caught.  Her stepmother would punish her if she knew she’d left the cave unguarded.
Back home, she hid the other slipper in the pot and wiped grime from the stove on her face. By the time her stepmother arrived, the blue dress had turned to rags again.
    There the matter would have ended, had not a travelling merchant found Yeh Shen’s slipper in the grass.  He showed it to a young prince, who was so enchanted by its beauty, that he paid a lot of money for it. The prince, who was not yet married, tried to imagine the girl whose delicate feet would fit such a tiny slipper.  What would she look like?  What would her laugh sound like?  The prince decided to find out.  ‘I shall marry the young woman whose foot fits this slipper,’ he said to his mother.
The king’s guards took the slipper from town to town, inviting all the girls in the land to try it on. Thousands did but none succeeded.  No one’s foot, no matter how small, could fit in the slipper.
At last the king’s men reached Yeh Shen’s village. It looked so poor and dirty, they dared not go in for fear of being robbed. Instead they placed the golden slipper in a roadside shrine outside it, with a notice signed by the king himself.  Then they hid behind a rock nearby, to see what would happen.   
Soon a tall girl came by, saw the slipper and ran back into the village. A moment later, she returned with her friends.  One of them read the sign.
‘The prince promises to marry the girl whose foot fits into the golden slipper.’
One by one the girls tried it on, but it was no use. The slipper fitted no one.  Even Yeh Shen’s sister had a go.  Of course, no matter how much she wiggled her toes and squeezed her heels, she could not push her foot into the slipper.
    Early the next morning, another girl came by on her way to the river. Seeing the golden slipper, she gasped.  Then she snatched it and thrust it into her pocket.  
    ‘Stop, thief,’ shouted the guards, leaping out of their hiding place.
    ‘This slipper is mine,’ said the girl, who was Yeh-Shen.
    ‘Tell that to the prince,’ said the guards.  They dragged Yeh-Shen to the king’s palace, where the prince was anxiously waiting for news. 
    ‘If the slipper is yours,’ he said to Yeh-Shen, ‘put it on. It should fit you.’
Yeh Shen did and, of course, the slipper fitted perfectly.  All at once, her rags changed back into the blue dress she had worn to the festival.  The other slipper appeared on her feet and the grime fell from her skin, revealing her beautiful face.  
    The prince fell in love with her at first sight.  ‘Will you marry me?’ he asked.
    ‘I will,’ said Yeh-Shen
    The wedding took place at the next full moon.  Everyone from the village was invited but Yeh Shen’s stepmother and half-sister refused to go.  They preferred to stay in their cave, telling fibs about how Yeh Shen had stolen her sister’s slipper.   Even when Yeh Shen asked them to move to the palace with her, they turned up their nose.   They continued to live in their cave until, one day, there was an earthquake and they were buried under a pile of enormous rocks.