Without stopping for breath, Ling the Younger ran exactly ten li*. Turned around-- the Monster wasn't chasing him. Then he stopped, caught his breath and started loudly calling for his older brother:
"Gege! Gege!"
But now he remembered that they had run in opposite directions. Who knows where his brother is now! Ling the Younger's eyes filled with tears. He wanted to cry but was too tired, and so he got comfortable in the grass and immediately fell asleep.
A crescent moon came up. In its pale glow, Ling the Younger's tears, not yet dried, shown like pearls.
Ling the Younger sleeps, he has slept for three hours now; how could he know that a new misfortune is already on the road and heading his way in the shape of two pompous noblemen!
One of the noblemen is a dog named Pip, and the second -- a fox, his name is Pippin. Both are dressed very tastefully. Particularly elegant is the hat on mister Pippin's head, looking much like a chrome bucket turned upside down. Perhaps that hat was made of silver, so strongly it glowed in the moonlight.
"I'm lucky today, my friend!" said mister Pip to mister Pippin, "Can you imagine it, this morning I found a completely new wallet on the road!"
"What was in it?" asked Pippin.
"You wouldn't guess for the world. A wallet full of flies!"
"Bother, a wallet with flies! That's not very tasty," answered Pippin, who was known as a rather learned fox and, of course, was very knowledgeable in all things gastronomical.
"Well then, what would you like to find, mister Pippin?" Pip asked, offended.
"In any case, something more edible than flies, mister Pip. Perhaps a small human."
"That's not all that difficult. I have a wonderful sense of smell. If there's any human around, I would definitely smell him out!"
And so conversing, they reached the very place where Ling the Younger was sleeping.
Pip actually jumped with pleasure.
"Mister Pippin! Mister Pippin! I told you we would find something edible! Ha ha!.. Well, of course! Here, look!"
Pippin scratched himself behind the ear and looked at Pip with envy.
And the latter was already sniffing over the sleeping boy and throwing looks full of obvious superiority at his friend.
"What do you think, mister Pippin, how much would I get for him if I sold him by weight?"
Ling the Younger didn't open his eyes.
"I want to sleep," he mumbled sleepily, "who's barking here?"
Pip laughed loudly:
"Well! You're unhappy that we bothered you? Then know: since I found you, you belong to me from now on. I can do whatever I want with you."
Ling the Younger got frightened, his sleepiness vanished -- things were getting bad!
"What do you want from me? I was just sleeping..."
"What do I want? I found you, and now you're mine. There's nothing more to it!" interrupted Pip.
"What do you mean -- found? What do you mean -- yours! I'm not yours, I'm my own."
"Well then! Don't believe me -- ask anyone you want, ask him!" and Pip nodded towards Pippin.
The latter jumped at Ling the Younger and dragged him by his ear, along the ground, towards mister Pip's feet.
"Our nation does have that law," said Pippin in a didactic tone of voice, forcing Ling the Younger to bow to Pip. "If someone finds an object on the road, and he likes this object, it then belongs to him. Mister Pip found you, so now you are his belonging. It's very simple, nothing to argue about."
Ling the Younger rubbed his eyes and, not understanding a thing, stared first at Pip, and then at Pippin.
"Well, I don't believe that a law like that exists!" he cried.
Pip answered:
"Whatever you want. You can believe it, or not believe it, but that's what's written in our law book. I found you, now you're mine. If you don't want to be mine, pay the ransom: a thousand gold bricks. Then I might let you go free."
Ling the Younger desperately tried to tear out of Pippin's prehensile hold, but Pippin was a lot stronger.
"I don't belong to you!" shouted Ling the Younger. "I don't have any gold bricks! I don't believe that law and I don't want to listen to it!"
"Then let's go and ask someone if such a law exists or not. Agreed?" offered Pip.
"Agreed! Let's go to the king!"
"Alright, if it's the king you want, we'll go to the king."
And so they went. Pip held Ling the Younger tightly in his paws, still worrying that me might run away.
"I appreciate your carrying me, mister Pip," said Ling the Younger, "but really, I'm not very comfortable: I can move neither arm nor leg."
Ling the Younger's calculations turned out to be correct. Pip had a lot of strength, but after walking several kilometers, he felt deathly tired.
"Poor mister Pip! Your legs are giving way!" cried Ling the Younger when the dog loosened his grip slightly. "Allow me to walk myself."
"Well, I guess that's alright."
But as soon as Pip let Ling the Younger down on the ground, he shot away from him as though he had grown wings.
In surprise, mister Pippin's ears, hidden under his hat, lifted so suddenly that his precious hat flew into the sky and hung off the crescent moon, not in a hurry to return to its owner. Pippin started crying.
"Oh! My ha-at!" he whimpered, looking entreatingly at Pip, "I have lost such a wonderful hat!"
But mister Pip didn't have time to look for anyone's hat. On all four feet, he set out to chase the boy. Pip ran, of course, much faster than Ling the Younger -- after all, he was descended from hunting dogs.
Oh no! Mister Pip's paws are stretching towards Ling the Younger. He's closer, closer!...
"Come one, Siao Ling! Go faster!" Ling the Younger encouraged himself.
The crescent moon ran along with them in the sky, not a step behind. And on its edge hung mister Pippin's hat, clanking in the wind. Only now did Ling the Younger realize that it was a regular tin bucket, and a toy one at that. He looked back, and in that moment Pip grabbed him by the collar.
"Consider yourself the best runner," said Ling the Younger sighing heavily.
"Talk, talk some more! You're going with me to the king. Let the king himself say whether you're mine or not."
And the dog dragged Ling the Younger to the city. The crescent moon with mister Pippin's hat floated after them.
And pipping was still whimpering. He was looking at his hat with sad eyes and squealing pitifully:
"What should I do? What should I do no-o-w?.."
"What are you whimpering about?" Pip attacked him, "This isn't worth an eaten egg: wait about two weeks until the moon becomes full again, and then your hat will simply fall down."
(tired of translating, will edit and finish later.)
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