Where the Mountain Meets the Moon (Newbery Honor Book)


By Grace Lin

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A Time Magazine 100 Best Fantasy Books of All Time selection!​
A Reader’s Digest Best Children’s Book of All Time​!

This stunning fantasy inspired by Chinese folklore is a companion novel to Starry River of the Sky and the New York Times bestselling and National Book Award finalist When the Sea Turned to Silver

In the valley of Fruitless mountain, a young girl named Minli lives in a ramshackle hut with her parents. In the evenings, her father regales her with old folktales of the Jade Dragon and the Old Man on the Moon, who knows the answers to all of life's questions. Inspired by these stories, Minli sets off on an extraordinary journey to find the Old Man on the Moon to ask him how she can change her family's fortune. She encounters an assorted cast of characters and magical creatures along the way, including a dragon who accompanies her on her quest for the ultimate answer.

Grace Lin, author of the beloved Year of the Dog and Year of the Rat returns with a wondrous story of adventure, faith, and friendship. A fantasy crossed with Chinese folklore, Where the Mountain Meets the Moon is a timeless story reminiscent of The Wizard of Oz and Kelly Barnhill's The Girl Who Drank the Moon. Her beautiful illustrations, printed in full-color, accompany the text throughout. Once again, she has created a charming, engaging book for young readers.


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Table of Contents

A Preview of Starry River of the Sky!


Copyright Page

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Far away from here, following the Jade River, there was once a black mountain that cut into the sky like a jagged piece of rough metal. The villagers called it Fruitless Mountain because nothing grew on it and birds and animals did not rest there.

Crowded in the corner of where Fruitless Mountain and the Jade River met was a village that was a shade of faded brown. This was because the land around the village was hard and poor. To coax rice out of the stubborn land, the fields had to be flooded with water. The villagers had to tramp in the mud, bending and stooping and planting day after day. Working in the mud so much made it spread everywhere and the hot sun dried it onto their clothes and hair and homes. Over time, everything in the village had become the dull color of dried mud.

One of the houses in this village was so small that its wood boards, held together by the roof, made one think of a bunch of matches tied with a piece of twine. Inside, there was barely enough room for three people to sit around the table—which was lucky because only three people lived there. One of them was a young girl called Minli.

Minli was not brown and dull like the rest of the village. She had glossy black hair with pink cheeks, shining eyes always eager for adventure, and a fast smile that flashed from her face. When people saw her lively and impulsive spirit, they thought her name, which meant quick thinking, suited her well. "Too well," her mother sighed, as Minli had a habit of quick acting as well.

Ma sighed a great deal, an impatient noise usually accompanied with a frown at their rough clothes, rundown house, or meager food. Minli could not remember a time when Ma did not sigh; it often made Minli wish she had been called a name that meant gold or fortune instead. Because Minli and her parents, like the village and the land around them, were very poor. They were barely able to harvest enough rice to feed themselves, and the only money in the house was two old copper coins that sat in a blue rice bowl with a white rabbit painted on it. The coins and the bowl belonged to Minli; they had been given to her when she was a baby, and she had had them for as long as she could remember.

What kept Minli from becoming dull and brown like the rest of the village were the stories her father told her every night at dinner. She glowed with such wonder and excitement that even Ma would smile, though she would shake her head at the same time. Ba seemed to drop his gray and work weariness—his black eyes sparkled like raindrops in the sun when he began a story.

"Ba, tell me the story about Fruitless Mountain again," Minli would say as her mother spooned their plain rice into bowls. "Tell me again why nothing grows on it."

"Ah," Minli's father said, "you've heard this so many times. You know."

"Tell me again, Ba," Minli begged. "Please."

"Okay," he said, and as he set down his chopsticks his smile twinkled in a way that Minli loved.


Once when there were no rivers on the earth, the Jade Dragon was in charge of clouds. She decided when and where the clouds would rain upon the land and when they would stop. She was very proud of her power and of the reverence the people of earth paid her. Jade Dragon had four dragon children: Pearl, Yellow, Long, and Black. They were large and strong and good and kind. They helped Jade Dragon with her work, and whenever they flew in the sky she was overwhelmed with love and pride.

However, one day, as Jade Dragon ended the rain and moved the clouds away from the land, she overheard some villagers' conversation.

"Ah, thank goodness the rain is gone," one man said.

"Yes," another said, "I'm so tired of the rain. I'm glad the clouds are gone and the sun is finally shining."

Those words filled Jade Dragon with anger. Tired of rain! Glad the clouds were gone! Jade Dragon was indignant. How dare the villagers dishonor her that way!

Jade Dragon was so offended that she decided that she would never let it rain again. "The people can enjoy the sun forever," Jade Dragon thought resentfully.

Of course, that meant despair for the people on earth. As the sun beat overhead and the rain never came, drought and famine spread over the land. Animals and trees withered and died and the people begged for rain, but Jade Dragon ignored them.

But their suffering did not go unnoticed by Jade Dragon's children. They were horrified at the anguish and misery on earth. One by one, they went to their mother and pleaded forgiveness for the humans—but even their words did not soften their mother's cold heart. "We will never make it rain for the people again," Jade Dragon vowed.

Pearl, Yellow, Long, and Black met in secret.

"We must do something to help the people," Black said. "If they do not get water soon, they will all die."

"Yes," Yellow said, "but what can we do? We cannot make it rain. We cannot dishonor Mother with disobedience."

Long looked down at the earth. "I will sacrifice myself for the people of earth," he said. "I will lie on the land and transform myself into water for them to drink."

The others looked at him in astonishment, but one by one they nodded.

"I will do the same," Yellow said.

"As will we," Pearl and Black said.

So Jade Dragon's children went down to earth and turned themselves into water, saving the people on the earth. They became the four great rivers of the land, stopping the drought and death of all those on earth.

But when Jade Dragon saw what her children had done, she cursed herself for her pride. No longer would her dragon children fly in the air with her or call her Mother. Her heart broke in grief and sadness; she fell from the sky and turned herself into the Jade River in hopes that she could somehow be reunited with her children.

Fruitless Mountain is the broken heart of Jade Dragon. Nothing grows or lives on the mountain; the land around it is hard and the water of the river is dark because Jade Dragon's sad spirit is still there. Until Jade Dragon is no longer lonely and is reunited with at least one of her children, Fruitless Mountain will remain bare.

"Why doesn't someone bring the water of the four great rivers to the mountain?" Minli asked, even though she had asked this question many times before. Every time Ba told the story, she couldn't help thinking how wonderful it would be to have the mountain blooming with fruit and flowers, bringing richness to their needy village. "Wouldn't that make Jade Dragon happy?"

"When Jade Dragon's children turned themselves into water," Minli's father said, "they were at peace and their spirits were released. Their spirits are no longer in the water. So Jade Dragon cannot find them in the rivers. Over a hundred years ago, a man tried to reunite them by taking stones from the mountain to the rivers."

"That man was not taking the stone for a dragon spirit," Minli's mother cut in. She never quite approved of Ba's stories, as she felt they made Minli impractical and caused her to daydream. "My grandmother told me he was an artist. He took the mountain rock to carve into inking stones."

"Did he ever come back?" Minli asked.

"No. It probably did not make good ink." Ma sighed. "He probably found something finer elsewhere. I bet the bronze on his horse's saddle was more than we will ever have."

Ma's sighs made Minli wish that every rock of Fruitless Mountain were gold and she couldn't help asking, "So how will Fruitless Mountain ever grow green again?"

"Ah," her father said, "that is a question you will have to ask the Old Man of the Moon."

"Oh, tell that story next!" Minli begged. "Whenever I ask something important, people say, 'That is a question you have to ask the Old Man of the Moon.' Someday, I will ask him."

"The Old Man of the Moon! Another story! Our house is bare and our rice hardly fills our bowls, but we have plenty of stories." Ma sighed again. "What a poor fortune we have!"

"Maybe," Ba said to Minli, glancing at Ma, "I should tell you that story tomorrow."



Every morning, before the sun rose, Minli, her mother, and her father began work in the fields. It was planting season, which was especially grueling. The mud stuck to their feet like glue and each seedling had to be painstakingly planted by hand. When the hot sun burned overhead, Minli's knees shook from weariness. She hated the feeling of thick, soggy mud on her hands and face; and many times she wanted to stop in irritation and exhaustion. But seeing her parents patiently working, backs bent, made her swallow her complaints and continue.

As soon as the sun began to set, Minli's parents sent her home to make dinner and to rest while they continued to work in the thick mud. They would not come home until the sun had completely disappeared from the sky.

At home, Minli washed her face and hands and feet; and even though all the water in the basin turned brown, she still felt like she was covered in mud. Her arms and legs were so tired that she felt like an old crab crawling on rocks. As she looked at herself reflected in the dark water, she saw Ma's frown on her face.

Ma is right, Minli thought. What a poor fortune we have. Every day, Ba and Ma work and work and we still have nothing. I wish I could change our fortune.

At that very moment, Minli heard a faint murmuring sound that she had never heard before, like a song chanted from the clouds. Curious, she opened the door to see what the noise was.

And there, on the road in front of her house, she saw a small stranger calling out quietly. "Goldfish," he was saying softly, as if he were coaxing his fish to swim. "Bring fortune into your home."

Minli and the villagers stared as he wheeled his cart. Even though the village was by a river, it had been many years since anyone had seen a glimpse of a goldfish. The fish in the Jade River were brown and gray, like the village. The goldfish man's cart was full of bowls of flashing fish that glittered like jewels.

His gentle calling drew Minli to him like a moth to a lit lantern. "How does a goldfish bring fortune into your home?" Minli asked.

The goldfish man looked at her; the sun setting behind him made him glow bright red and yellow. "Don't you know?" he asked her. "Goldfish means plenty of gold. Having a bowl of goldfish means your house will be full of gold and jade."

As Minli stared into his bowls with her shining black eyes, a brilliant orange fish stared back at her with its shining black eyes. And then quickly, so quickly that Minli barely thought about it, she turned into the house and grabbed the two copper coins from the white rabbit rice bowl.

"I'll buy that one," Minli said, and she pointed at the fiery orange fish with the black eyes and fin that had caught her eye.

The other village children looked at her enviously while the watching adults shook their heads. "Minli," one neighbor said, "don't believe his impossible talk. A goldfish won't bring fortune. Save your money."

But Minli was not discouraged and she held out her copper coins to the goldfish man. He looked at her and smiled. Then he took one coin, picked up the fishbowl, and gave it to her.

"May it bring you great fortune," he said. And with a small bow to the villagers, he wheeled out of the village. In moments, he disappeared from view into the shadow of Fruitless Mountain, and if it wasn't for the goldfish Minli had in her hands, all would have thought he was a dream.



But the goldfish was real, and when her parents returned from the fields for dinner they were not happy to learn that Minli had spent her money on it.

"How could you spend your money on that!" Ma said, slapping the rice bowls on the table. "On something so useless? And we will have to feed it! There is barely enough rice for us as it is."

"I will share my rice with it," Minli said quickly. "The goldfish man said that it will bring fortune to our house."

"Fortune!" Ma said. "You spent half the money in our house!"

"Now, Wife," Ba said, sitting quietly, "it was Minli's money. It was hers to do with as she wished. Money must be used sometime. What use is money in a bowl?"

"It is more useful than a goldfish in a bowl," her mother said shortly.

"Who knows," Ba said. "Maybe it will bring fortune to our house."

"Another impossible dream," Ma said, looking at the plain rice in her bowl with bitterness. "It will take more than a goldfish to bring fortune to our house."

"Like what?" Minli asked. "What do we need to bring fortune here?"

"Ah," Ba said, "that is a question you will have to ask the Old Man of the Moon."

"The Old Man of the Moon again," Minli said, and she looked at her father. "Ba, you said you would tell me the Old Man of the Moon story again today."

"More stories!" Ma said, and her chopsticks struck the inside of her empty rice bowl resentfully. "Haven't we had enough of those?"

"Now, Wife," Ba said again, "stories cost us nothing."

"And gain us nothing as well," Ma said.

There was a stony silence as Ba looked sadly into his rice bowl. Minli tugged at his sleeve. "Please, Ba?" she said.

Ma shook her head and sighed, but said nothing, so Ba began.


Once there was a magistrate who was quite powerful and proud. He was so proud that he demanded constant respect from his people. Whenever he made a trip out of the city, no matter what time of day or night, people were to leave their homes, get on their knees, and make deep bows as he passed, or else face the brutal punishment of his soldiers. The magistrate was fierce in his anger as well as his pride. It is said he even expected the monkeys to come down from the trees to bow to him.

The magistrate was harsh with his subordinates, ruthless to his enemies, and pitiless to his people. All feared his wrath, and when he roared his orders the people trembled. Behind his back, they called him Magistrate Tiger.

Magistrate Tiger's most coveted wish was to be of royal blood. His every decision was crafted for that purpose; every manipulation was part of a strategy to achieve acceptance into the imperial family. As soon as his son was born, he began to make trips and inquiries to gain influence, in hopes that he could marry his son to a member of the imperial family.

One night, as the magistrate traveled through the mountains (again on a trip to gain favor for his son's future marriage), he saw an old man sitting alone in the moonlight. The old man ignored the passing horses and carriages, the silk brocade and the government seal, and simply continued reading a large book in his lap, placidly fingering a bag of red string beside him. The old man's indifference infuriated Magistrate Tiger and he ordered the carriage to stop. However, even the halting noises did not make the old man look up. Finally, Magistrate Tiger exited his carriage and went to the old man, who was still engrossed in his book.

"Do you not bow to your magistrate?!" he roared.

The old man continued to read.

"What are you reading that is so important?" the magistrate demanded, and looked at the pages of the book. It was full of scribbles and scrawls that were not of any language the magistrate knew of. "Why, it's just nonsense written in there!"

"Nonsense!" the old man said, finally looking up. "You fool. This is the Book of Fortune. It holds all the knowledge of the world—the past, present, and future."

The magistrate looked again at the marks on the page. "I cannot read it," he said.

"Of course not," the man said. "But I, the Old Man of the Moon, Guardian of the Book of Fortune, can read it. And with it, I can answer any question in the world."

"You can answer any question in the world?" the magistrate scoffed. "Very well. Who will my son marry when he is of age?"

The Old Man of the Moon flipped the pages of the book. "Hmm," he said to himself. "Yes, here it is… your son's future wife is now the two-year-old daughter of a grocer in the next village."

"The daughter of a grocer!" the magistrate spat.

"Yes," the Old Man of the Moon continued. "Right now she is wrapped in a blue blanket embroidered with white rabbits, sitting on the lap of her blind grandmother in front of her house."

"No!" the magistrate said. "I won't allow it!"

"It's true," the Old Man said. "They are destined to be husband and wife. I, myself, tied the red cord that binds them."

"What red cord?" Magistrate Tiger demanded.

"Do you know nothing? I tie together everyone who meets with these red threads." The Old Man sighed, holding up his bag full of red string. "When you were born, I tied your ankle to your wife's ankle with a red thread, and as you both grew older the line became shorter until you eventually met. All the people you've met in your life have been brought to you by the red cords I tied. I must have forgotten to tie the end of one of the lines, which is why you are meeting me now. I won't do that again."

"I don't believe you," the magistrate said.

"Believe or don't believe," the Old Man said, standing up and putting the big book on his back. "We have reached the end of our thread and I will now leave."

The magistrate stared in dumbfounded silence as the Old Man of the Moon walked away up the mountain.

"Crazy old man," the magistrate said finally. "What a waste of my time!"

The magistrate returned to his carriage and continued on. But as they drove through the next village, he saw an old blind woman holding a baby girl in front of a house. The girl was wrapped in a blue blanket embroidered with white rabbits, just as the Old Man of the Moon had said.

Magistrate Tiger burned with anger. "I will not let my son marry a grocer's daughter!" he vowed. So, after he arrived at his guesthouse, the magistrate secretly ordered one of his servants to return to the grocer's home and stab the girl with a knife. That will take care of her, he thought to himself.

Many years later, Magistrate Tiger had his dream fulfilled. He was finally able to obtain a match for his son with one of the emperor's many granddaughters, and his son would inherit the rule of a remote city. On the wedding day, Magistrate Tiger bragged to his son about how he had arranged the marriage and outwitted the Old Man of the Moon. The son (who was not like his father) said nothing, but after the wedding ceremony, sent a trusted servant to find the grocer's family to make amends. In the meantime, he became acquainted with his bride and was happy to find that both were pleased with each other. He found his new wife beautiful, the only oddity about her being that she always wore a delicate flower on her forehead.

"Dear Wife," he said, "why do you always wear that flower? Even to sleep, you never remove it."

"It is to hide my scar," she said, touching her forehead in embarrassment. "When I was a child no older than two, a strange man stabbed me with a knife. I survived, but I still have this scar."

And at that moment, the trusted servant came rushing in. "Master," he said, "I made the inquiries you asked for. In a flood many years ago, the grocer's family perished—except for the daughter. The king of the city (the emperor's ninth son) then adopted the daughter and raised her as his own… and that daughter is your wife!"

"So the Old Man of the Moon was right!" Minli said.

"Of course he was," Ba replied. "The Old Man of the Moon knows everything and can answer any question you ask."

"I should ask him how to bring fortune to our house!" Minli said. "He would know, I'll ask him. Where do I find him?"

"They say he lives on top of Never-Ending Mountain," Ba said. "But no one I have ever spoken to knows where that is."

"Maybe we can find out," Minli said.

"Oh, Minli!" Ma said impatiently. "Bringing fortune to our house! Making Fruitless Mountain bloom! You're always wishing to do impossible things! Stop believing stories and stop wasting your time."

"Stories are not a waste of time," Ba said.

"Stories," Ma said, slapping her hands against the table, making the water in the fishbowl sway as she stood up and left the table, "are what wasted money on this goldfish."

Minli stared down at her rice bowl; the few white grains left sat like precious pearls at the bottom of her bowl. Ba patted her arm. "Eat all your rice, Daughter," he said, and with his shaking hands, he scooped the last of his own rice to feed the fish.



That night Minli could not sleep. Ma's words echoed in her ears and when she closed her eyes she saw Ba's hand, shaking from hard work, feeding the goldfish.

Ma is right, Minli thought to herself. The goldfish is just another mouth to feed. I can't let Ba feed the goldfish. Ma and Ba work so hard for every grain of rice, Ba shouldn't have to feed the goldfish too.

Minli slipped quietly out of her bed and crept to the table where the goldfish was. They stared at each other and Minli knew what she had to do. Quickly slipping on her shoes and jacket, she took the goldfish and left the house.

It was late. The village was quietly asleep and the stars above filled the sky like spilled salt on dried seaweed. Minli's footsteps seemed to hush the night as she made her way toward the Jade River.

At the edge of the river, Minli looked at her goldfish one last time. The moon shone above so even in the darkness of the night, the fish seemed to burn a bright orange. Its black eyes sparkled at her.

"I'm sorry I can't keep you," Minli whispered. "I hope you will be all right in the river." And with those words, she emptied the bowl into the water. For a moment the fish seemed shocked and was still, like a flickering flame on a match. Then it wiggled in the water and swam in circles, a joyful fire twirling in the water.

Minli watched it and sighed. As the sound faded into the night, Minli realized it was an echo of her mother's impatient, frustrated noise. "Ma will never stop sighing unless our fortune changes. But how will it ever change?" Minli asked ruefully. "I guess that is just another question for the Old Man of the Moon. Too bad no one knows how to get to Never-Ending Mountain to ask him anything."

The fish stopped swimming and looked up at Minli.

"I know where it is," it said. The female voice was high and soft, like the wind whistling through the reeds of the water.

Minli stared. "Did you say something?" she asked.

"Yes," the fish said. "I know how you can get to Never-Ending Mountain and ask the Old Man of the Moon a question."

"You're a talking fish?" Minli asked, her words tumbling into each other with excitement. "How can you talk?"

"Most fish talk," the fish said, "if you are willing to listen. One, of course, must want to hear."

"I do," Minli said, enthralled and eager. This was just like one of Ba's stories! She bubbled with excitement. "How do you know the way to Never-Ending Mountain?"

"I've swum all the oceans and rivers, except for one," the fish said, "and on my way to the last, the goldfish man caught me. I despaired in his cart, for I have seen and learned much of the world, including the way to Never-Ending Mountain. Since you have set me free, I will tell you."

"You've swum all the oceans and rivers?" Minli asked. The questions spilled like overflowing water. "Which river haven't you seen? Why have you traveled so much? Where is Never-Ending Mountain? When did—"

"This river is the one river I have not swum," the fish interrupted, "and I have waited a long time to see it. So I would like to start as soon as possible. You can ask the Old Man of the Moon all your other questions. Let me tell you the way to him so I can be off."

Minli nodded and asked no more. She realized she was having a conversation with a goldfish, which was very unusual, so she decided to listen.



The next morning, Minli felt as if her head was spinning with thoughts and plans. She was so busy thinking and plotting that she barely noticed her parents nodding sadly at each other when they saw the empty fishbowl. And in the fields, when Minli worked as if in a daze, her parents said nothing about her slow and messy planting.

When the sun began to set and Minli went home to make dinner, she quickly washed and made the rice. Then she set the table for two people, sat down, and wrote this note:

Dear Ma and Ba,

I am going to Never-Ending Mountain to ask the Old Man of the Moon how I can change our fortune. I might be away for many days, but don't worry, I will be fine. When I come back, we will be able to fill our house with gold and jade.

Love, your obedient daughter,


The obedient part isn't completely true, Minli thought to herself, as she knew her parents would not be happy to find her gone. But it's not false either. They didn't say I couldn't go, so I'm not being disobedient.

Still, Minli knew that wasn't entirely right either. But she shook away her uneasy feelings and prepared for her journey. On a blanket, she put:

a needle

a pair of chopsticks

her white rabbit rice bowl

a small piece of dried bamboo

a hollow gourd full of water

a small knife

a fishnet

some uncooked rice

a large pot


On Sale
Jul 1, 2009
Page Count
288 pages

Grace Lin

About the Author

Grace Lin has two sisters. They all have black hair. They all have brown eyes. They all wear glasses. But they are not exactly the same. Only Grace writes books. Some of her books are for little kids. Some of her books are for big kids. Grace is a bestselling author. She is also an award-winning author. If you like this collection of Ling & Ting stories, read Ling & Ting Share a Birthday! Her website is gracelin.com.

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