Le Yunhe and Xia Pingzi were close friends from the same village, classmates since youth, bound by an unbreakable tie. Xia Pingzi showed brilliance early on, gaining renown by age ten. Le Yunhe humbly sought his tutelage, and Xia Pingzi shared everything he knew. Le Yunhe’s literary talents flourished, and soon he stood as an equal to his friend. Despite their gifts, their careers in public service stalled; they sat for the imperial examinations multiple times, only to repeatedly fail.

Soon after, Xia Pingzi fell gravely ill and passed away. Lacking funds for a proper burial, Le Yunhe took full responsibility, arranging all the funeral rites for his friend. Xia Pingzi left behind an orphaned family—a wife and children with no one to care for them. Le Yunhe frequently offered assistance. Every measure of grain he acquired, he ensured half went to the Xia family mother and son, allowing them to survive. Officials soon learned of this, and Le Sheng’s virtue was widely praised.

Le Sheng had little property of his own, yet he now bore the responsibility of caring for Xia Sheng’s wife and children, placing him in dire straits. He often sighed, "Brother Pingzi’s talent was as vast as the ocean, yet he died in obscurity; what hope is there for me? Fortune and status in life must be seized promptly. Wasting years in this slow grind is a disservice to life, and ultimately, it is no solution. Even dead dogs and horses can fill the ditches, yet am I worse than beasts? It is best to make plans sooner rather than later." Thus, he abandoned scholarship for commerce. After half a year of trading, his assets reached a modest comfort.

One day, Le Sheng was passing through Jinling and resting at an inn. He noticed a man of imposing height and muscular build pacing inside, his expression somber, his face etched with sorrow. Le Sheng asked, "Sir, would you care for something to eat? My treat." The man heard the words but offered no reply. Le Sheng pushed the food before him toward the stranger, who accepted without courtesy, devouring the meal with his hands in an instant. Le Sheng ordered several more large portions, which the man accepted readily and devoured just as quickly.

Noticing the man’s enormous appetite, Le Sheng felt inclined to befriend him. He called out, "Innkeeper, bring a ham, and do you have steamed buns? Bring me a hundred." Before long, the feast arrived. The man ate with ravenous speed, finishing every last piece of the steamed pork bun in moments. Patting his stomach, he offered thanks, "It has been three years since I ate my fill like this." Le Sheng remarked, "You are a strong man; why do you wander so far?" The man replied, "My sins drew the wrath of Heaven; it cannot be spoken, cannot be spoken." When asked of his origins, the man said, "No house on land, no boat on water; I sleep at the edge of a village by morning and in the wilderness by dusk." Le Sheng was secretly astonished by this. He finished his packing, intending to leave, but the man followed closely, reluctant to depart.

Le Sheng said, "I am leaving now; there is no need for you to see me off."

The man responded, "You face a great peril. I cannot bear to see you perish after this kindness of a single meal." Le Sheng was even more surprised and agreed to let him accompany him. When they stopped to dine later, the man declined, saying, "No need for ceremony. I eat only a few times a year."

The next day, they crossed the river just as a great tempest struck, overturning their vessel, plunging both men into the water. After a moment, the wind calmed. The man emerged carrying Le Sheng on his back, stepping across the waves. He placed Le Sheng onto a passing merchant ship, then turned and plunged back into the water. Before long, he returned, pulling a small boat, and helped Le Sheng aboard, instructing him to sit still and not move. He leaped back into the river again, grasping cargo with both arms, tossing it into the boat. He repeated this—diving and resurfacing—until the boat was laden with goods. Le Sheng thanked him profusely, "Your saving my life is more than I could ever ask for. As for the cargo sinking, I truly dared not hope to see it recovered. Thank you, thank you." He examined the goods and found nothing missing, overcome with joy. As he prepared to set sail, the man tried to take his leave, but Le Sheng insisted he stay, and they journeyed together.

Le Sheng laughed, "During that disaster, we only lost a single golden hairpin. What luck, what luck." The man said, "The hairpin is certainly at the bottom of the river; I shall retrieve it for you now." Le Sheng tried to dissuade him, "The river current is too swift; there is no need to risk your life for a mere hairpin." Before the words were finished, the man had already leaped into the water and vanished. Le Sheng stared in astonishment for a long time. Suddenly, the man emerged, smiling, and presented the golden hairpin, saying, "I trust I have fulfilled my duty."

All the boatmen on the river witnessed this and were utterly aghast.

The two returned to the house, sharing lodging and meals—though the man ate only once every ten days or so, consuming an immense amount of food each time. One day, the man came again to take his leave. Suddenly, thunder roared outside, and the sky grew dark, signaling rain. Le Sheng murmured, "I wonder what clouds look like? And what is thunder? How wonderful it would be to walk in the heavens." The man laughed, "You wish to ascend to the sky, young master? A small matter."

Soon after, Le Sheng felt drowsy and lay down on his couch for a brief nap. When he awoke, he felt the couch swaying. He was no longer upon it. Opening his eyes, he found himself amidst the clouds, surrounded by cotton-like white vapor. He started up in shock, his head swimming as if seasick. His feet trod upon the white clouds, feeling as light as cotton. Looking up, the stars were close enough to touch. Thinking it a dream, he focused his gaze: the myriad stars above twinkled, set into the firmament like lotus seeds nestled in a pod. The largest stars were like urns, the medium ones like bottles, and the smallest like spittoons. He reached out and shook the largest, which remained unmoving; the smaller ones wobbled, seeming ready to be plucked.

Le Sheng was overjoyed. He plucked a small star and tucked it into his sleeve. Parting the clouds to look down, he saw a vast sea of vapor, and the cities below looked as tiny as beans. He pondered: if he were to slip and fall, would he survive? Soon, two dragons, coiling and twisting, appeared pulling a chariot. The dragon tails whipped lightly, cracking like the vibrating strings of a whip.

On the chariot rested a vessel several spans in diameter, filled with clear water. Dozens of figures dipped cups and bowls into the vessel, filling them, and scattered the contents into the clouds. The strong man was among them. The crowd suddenly noticed Le Sheng and scolded him in unison. The strong man explained, "This is my friend." He casually handed Le Sheng a porcelain bowl and said, "Take this and sprinkle the water."

At that time, a severe drought plagued the common folk. Le Sheng took the bowl, filled it to the brim with water, parted the clouds, identified the direction of his hometown, and sprinkled the water generously.

A short while later, the strong man said to Le Sheng, "I am a Thunder Official (Lei Cao). I mistakenly controlled the rain once and was punished for three years. My term is now over, and we shall see each other no more." As he spoke, he lowered a rope from the clouds—a rope tens of thousands of feet long—and instructed, "Grasp the rope and slide down; it will take you home." Le Sheng shook his head, "This is too dangerous; I dare not." The strong man comforted him, "It is nothing; just climb down, do not fear."

Le Unhe had no choice but to grab the rope and slide. The descent was incredibly fast; in a blink, his feet touched solid ground. He looked around; he was outside his village. The rope gradually retracted into the clouds, never to be seen again.

At that time, the fields had long suffered drought. Several miles away, only a few inches of rain had fallen, but in Le Sheng’s hometown, the deluge was torrential, filling every ditch and channel. Le Sheng returned home, reached into his sleeve, and found the star still there. He placed it on his writing desk; the star was dark, like a stone. At night, it radiated light, illuminating all four walls. Le Sheng was overjoyed and carefully hid his treasure. Whenever esteemed guests visited, during their drinking, Le Sheng would inevitably take out the star to examine, gazing directly at it—a thousand strands of auspicious energy and dazzling radiance would pour forth.

One night, Le Sheng’s wife was combing her hair by the starlight when she noticed the light shrink to the size of a firefly, fluttering horizontally. As the wife wondered at this strangeness, the star suddenly flew into her mouth. She coughed but could not expel it; it had already been swallowed. The wife gasped in shock and rushed to tell her husband. Le Sheng, hearing this, also marveled greatly.

That evening as Le Sheng slept, he dreamt that Xia Pingzi came to him, saying, "I am truly the Minor Constellation Star (Shao Wei Xing) of Heaven. I shall never forget how you cared for my wife and children, Honorable Sir. To have been brought back from the heavens by Brother Le this time confirms our bond. Now, I shall be your heir to repay your great kindness." Le Sheng had been childless at thirty and was delighted by the dream.

Shortly after, his wife did indeed become pregnant. When the time came for the delivery, the room was filled with brilliant light and radiating starlight. Le Sheng was ecstatic. To commemorate his friend, he specifically named his son "Xing'er" (Little Star).

Xing'er was exceptionally sharp. By the age of sixteen, he had already passed the highest level of the imperial examination (Jinshi).