The Wise Lamp Keeper and the Pompous Court Official

On the slope of a beautiful hillside town, Kenji had a very special job. He was the lamp keeper. Every evening, when the sun dipped behind the ridges, Kenji lit the paper lanterns. These lanterns were made of thin bark paper and split bamboo. They lined the narrow paths that wound past the wet rice paddies and up to the small hillside shrine.

Lighting them was a slow craft. Kenji had to walk with care. The dirt paths were wet and slick from the hillside springs. One slip could tear a lantern or drop a flame onto the dry grass. The neighbors trusted Kenji to keep them safe. They knew his steady steps meant their paths would always be bright and secure.

One summer day, a very proud inspector named Lord Sadao arrived from the grand royal court. He wore a heavy silk robe and a very tall, shiny hat. He walked with his chin pointed up at the sky. Lord Sadao thought he was much wiser than the simple folk of the hills.

“Why does it take you so long to light these few lanterns?” Lord Sadao asked, looking down his nose. “In the grand city, our servants run like the wind. You must light all fifty lamps on this hill before I count to ten tonight! If you are too slow, I will find a new keeper.”

Kenji knew that running with fire on these steep, slippery paths was very dangerous. But he also knew that arguing with the proud inspector would do no good. Instead, Kenji bowed low and smiled.

“Oh, mighty Lord Sadao!” Kenji said. “Your wisdom is as vast as the ocean. Since your voice is so powerful, we can use your breath to help. If you run up the steps ahead of me, the wind from your grand robes will pull the flame from lamp to lamp! We will be faster than the autumn wind.”

Lord Sadao puffed out his chest. “Of course! My movement is very swift,” he boasted.

“Excellent,” Kenji said. “But to keep the wind from blowing the flame sideways, you must hold this wide bamboo screen in front of you. You must run up the wet steps as fast as you can while shouting the numbers one to ten. I will follow with the match.”

Kenji handed the official a very wide, heavy screen made of split bamboo and thick paper. Lord Sadao took it. He stood at the bottom of the long, steep steps.

“One!” the official shouted, and he leaped forward.

But the heavy screen caught the air like a sail. It pushed him back. Lord Sadao squeezed his eyes shut and ran faster, his heavy robes flapping. “Two!” he gasped.

The path was wet from the rice paddies. His fancy shoes slid on the slick clay. His tall, shiny hat wobbled. “Three!” he cried, but his legs shook. He could not run fast with the giant screen. With a loud splash, Lord Sadao tumbled sideways into a soft, muddy puddle by the path.

Kenji walked up behind him with slow, steady steps. He carefully lit the first three lanterns, which shone with a warm, soft glow. He then helped the muddy official stand up.

“My lord!” Kenji said with a gentle bow. “You ran so fast that you outran the flame. But look! The neighbors are watching, and they need to trust that our paths are safe. Shall we light the rest of the lamps with slow, steady steps?”

The wet, muddy official looked at his ruined robes. He looked at the warm, safe lights Kenji had lit. He knew his own pride had made him look silly.

“Yes,” the official muttered, wiping mud from his face. “Slow is much better.”

From that day on, Kenji kept his job, and the hillside paths remained safe and bright.

Moral: Community trust is built on steady care and safety, not on reckless speed.