The Crystal Heart

Long ago, in a palace by the Red River, there lived a great mandarin and his daughter, Mi Nuong.
Like other young ladies of her position, Mi Nuong was kept indoors, away from the eyes of admiring men. She spent most of her time in her room at the top of a tower. There she would sit on a bench by a moon-shaped window, reading or embroidering, chatting with her maid, and gazing out often at the garden and the river.
One day as she sat there, a song floated to her from the distance, in a voice deep and sweet. She looked out and saw a fishing boat coming up the river.
“Do you hear it?” she asked her maid. “How beautifully he sings!” She listened again as the voice drew nearer.
My love is like a blossom in the breeze.
My love is like a moonbeam on the waves.
“He must be young and very handsome,” said Mi Nuong. She felt a sudden thrill. “Perhaps he knows I am here and sings it just for me!”
The maid’s eyes lit up. “My lady, perhaps he’s a mandarin’s son in disguise—the man you are destined to marry!”
Mi Nuong felt a flush on her face and a stirring in her heart. She tried to make out the man’s features, but he was too far off to see clearly. The boat and the song glided slowly up the river and away.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Perhaps he is.”
All day long, Mi Nuong waited by the window, hoping to hear the singer again. The next day she waited too, and the next. But the voice did not return.
“Why doesn’t he come?” she asked her maid sadly.
As the days passed, Mi Nuong grew pale and weak. At last she went to her bed and stayed there.
The mandarin came to her. “Daughter, what’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing, Father,” she said faintly.
The mandarin sent for the doctor. But after seeing Mi Nuong, the doctor told him, “I can find no illness. And without an illness, I can offer no cure.”
The weeks passed, and Mi Nuong grew no better. Then one day her