Presently, Ma Ji loaded cargo with the villagers onto a ship for overseas trade. The vessel could carry dozens of people, flat-bottomed with high railings; ten men rowed, churning the water like an arrow. After three days, in the distant expanse of churning clouds and water, layered pavilions appeared, and below the city, a swarm of sails gathered, numerous as ants. In a short while, they reached the city walls. Ma Ji gazed intently: the blue bricks on the wall were enormous, each one seven feet long. The city tower soared into the clouds. Abandoning the boat, they went ashore. In the marketplace, goods were displayed—rare treasures and exotic jewels, dazzling and seldom seen in the world.

A young man approached on a spirited horse; the market crowds quickly made way. A villager introduced him, “This is the Third Son of the Eastern Ocean.” The Son, weaving through the streets, looked at Ma Ji and said, “This man’s appearance is extraordinary; he is certainly no barbarian from a foreign land.” Before the words were finished, a servant stepped forward to inquire about his origin. Ma Ji explained everything. The Son rejoiced, “Young Master’s arrival here is no small fate.” He then bestowed a mount upon Ma Ji and invited him to accompany him. The two rode side by side, exiting the West Gate all the way to the island’s shore. The mounts leaped into the water, startling Ma Ji into a sharp cry. Suddenly, the sea parted, and the waves on either side stood erect like towering walls. Soon they reached a palace, with tortoiseshell for beams, scales for tiles, and crystalline walls that reflected clear images.

Dismounting, they entered the grand hall. Looking up, they saw the Dragon Lord seated high above. The Son announced, “I wandered the bustling market and found a worthy scholar from the Central Land; I present him to Your Majesty.” Ma Ji stepped forward, knelt, and bowed. The Dragon Lord spoke, “Sir is a scholar of letters, whose talent is in no way inferior to Qu Yuan or Song Yu. I trouble you to compose an ‘Ode to the Sea City,’ and grace us with your instruction.” Ma Ji gladly accepted the order. The Dragon King presented him with a crystal inkstone, a brush made of dragon hair, and paper as white as snow, the ink smelling of orchid. Ma Ji vigorously applied his brush, penning thousands of characters in a flowing style, and offered it to the hall. The Dragon Lord clapped his hands in appreciation, “Sir’s magnificent talent illuminates the entirety of the Water Kingdom.” He then summoned the dragon clan and held a banquet in the Rainbow Palace. After several rounds of wine, the Dragon Lord raised his cup and said, “I have a beloved daughter, unmarried. I shall bestow her upon you as your wife. How does this proposal sit with you?”

Ma Ji rose from his seat to offer thanks, meekly agreeing. The Dragon Lord looked to his left and right, whispering a few instructions. Soon, several palace maids escorted a young lady out, their tinkling pendants accompanied by grand music. After the couple completed their rites, Ma Ji stealthily observed the maiden; she was as beautiful as a celestial being. Before long, the maiden departed, and the banquet concluded. Two maids, holding painted lanterns, escorted Ma Ji to the bridal chamber. The maiden awaited him, heavily adorned. The bed was made of coral, decorated with the Eight Treasures. The outside of the canopy was fringed with pearls as large as rice grains. The ** embroidered quilt permeated the air with fragrance.

The next morning, the couple rose early, and the maids and servant girls vied to wait upon them. Ma Ji went to court to express his gratitude. The Dragon Lord conferred upon him the title of Consort Captain (Fuma Duwei). At the same time, the "Ode to the Sea City" was transmitted throughout the Four Seas, and the Dragon Kings of the Four Seas each dispatched envoys to offer congratulations, taking the opportunity to invite the Consort to attend feasts. Ma Ji, clad in magnificent brocade, rode forth in a chariot pulled by a green dragon, shouting commands. Dozens of attendant warriors followed, their iron cavalry wielding curved bows, white banners fluttering; music played on horseback, jade instruments sounded from the carriage—an imposing and majestic display. Within three days, his footsteps covered the Four Seas; the name “Dragon Envoy” became known throughout the realm.

In the palace stood a Jade Tree, as thick as one person could embrace, its trunk appearing like white, translucent glazed glass. At the center was the heartwood, pale yellow and as thick as an arm. The leaves were like emerald jade, thick as copper coins, casting dappled, dense shade. Ma Ji often recited poetry with his wife beneath the tree. The tree was full of blossoms, similar in shape to gardenias. Each falling petal made a clear ringing sound. Upon picking one up for inspection, the petal was bright and lovely, seemingly carved from agate.

Exotic birds often called from the treetop, possessing golden and brilliant feathers, their tails longer than their bodies. Their voices were mournful, deeply stirring the heart. Every time Ma Ji heard their cries, he could not help but think of his homeland. He said to his wife, “I have been away for three years, far from my parents. Whenever I think of them, tears stream down my face. Are you willing to return with me?” The Dragon Lady replied, “The path between immortal and mortal realms is blocked; we cannot remain together. Nor can I bear to use the joys of our marriage to take away the pleasure of your duties to your parents. Regarding the return home, allow me time to consider a way.” Hearing this, Ma Ji could not stop weeping. The Dragon Lady sighed, “The affection between husband and wife, and the love for one’s parents—it is difficult to satisfy both completely.”

The next day, Ma Ji returned from outside, and the Dragon Lord said, “The Captain misses his homeland. I shall send you home tomorrow morning. How does that sound?” Ma Ji thanked him, “This humble servant has wandered far and received Your Majesty’s favor. My heart of repayment will never be forgotten. After visiting my kin, I shall return to reunite.”

At dusk, the Dragon Lady prepared wine for their farewell. Ma Ji set a date for their next meeting. The Dragon Lady said, “Our destined connection has reached its end.” Ma Ji was overcome with grief. The Dragon Lady continued, “Returning to care for your parents shows you are a truly filial son. The gatherings and partings of life are but a moment in a hundred years; why emulate the demeanor of children and weep sorrowfully? From now on, I shall keep my fidelity for you, and you shall uphold your righteousness for me. Being united in heart across distance is what makes a true couple. Must we always be side by side to count as growing old together? If you break this vow, the marriage will be ill-fated. Should there be no one to manage the household affairs, I permit you to take a concubine. Before parting, there is one more thing I must entrust to you: since marrying you, I seem to be pregnant. I ask you to name the child.” Ma Ji said, “If it is a daughter, name her Long Gong; if a son, name him Fu Hai.” The Dragon Lady requested a token as proof, and Ma Ji took out a pair of red jade lotus flowers he had acquired in the Rakshasa Kingdom to give to her.

The Dragon Lady said, “Three years hence, on the eighth day of the fourth month, you shall sail a boat to the Southern Isle to receive your flesh and blood.” As she spoke, she made a pouch from fish skin, filled it with jewels, and gave it to her husband, saying, “Cherish this well; you will never want for food or clothing thereafter.” As dawn broke, the Dragon King held a farewell feast, bestowing lavish gifts. Ma Ji bowed his farewell and left the palace. The Dragon Lady, riding a white sheep carriage, escorted him to the seaside. Ma Ji went ashore and dismounted. The Dragon Lady urged him to take care, then turned the carriage back. In an instant, the seawater rejoined, and she vanished without a trace. Ma Ji then returned.

When Ma Ji reached home, everyone was astonished. Having been absent for many years, his wife had already remarried. Fortunately, his parents were still alive and well. Only then did he understand the Dragon Lady’s words of “upholding righteousness”—she had foreseen the future. Ma Ji’s father wanted to arrange a new marriage for his son, but Ma Ji refused, strictly adhering to the Dragon Lady’s instruction and taking a maid as a concubine instead. In the blink of an eye, three years passed. Ma Ji sailed to the island and saw two children floating on the water’s surface, splashing and playing, neither sinking nor remaining still. Approaching to welcome them, one child gave a knowing laugh and grasped his arm, leaping into his embrace. The other child cried loudly, seemingly chiding him: Why the favoritism, only embracing him and not me? Ma Ji smiled faintly and quickly embraced her too. Examining them closely, they were a boy and a girl, with graceful and delicate features; their foreheads were adorned with jade caps, which were none other than the pair of red jade lotus flowers.

The children carried brocade satchels on their backs. Opening one, he read a letter inside, the contents of which read: Are my respected in-laws well? Three years have passed in a flash, the mortal world forever separated from us by a vast stretch of water, impossible for the bluebird to traverse. Day and night I think of you, eagerly awaiting your return, but the boundless sea only deepens my lonely sorrow. I reflect on Chang’e, who fled to the moon, eternally guarding the Osmanthus Palace; and the Weaver Girl, who cast her shuttle, dwelling alone by the Milky Way. What am I, that we are granted such long companionship? Reflecting on this breaks my sobs into laughter. Two months after our parting, I bore twins. Their chirping in my arms could be distinguished by their laughter; snatching dates and pears, they cannot live without a mother. I respectfully return them to you. The pair of red jade lotuses I gifted you are the adornment on their caps as proof. When you hold the children on your lap, it is as if your concubine is by your side. Hearing that you have kept your vow brings me great comfort. I am true to you in this life, devoted until death. The treasures in the chest are not hidden away like fragrant unguents; the new makeup in the mirror has long since lacked powder and rouge. You are like a traveler on a journey; I am the ** companion. Though separated by heaven’s ends, this affection remains unchanged. However, though my in-laws hold their grandchildren, they have not seen the new wife, which is a deficiency in both feeling and propriety. After my mother-in-law is buried, I shall personally visit the grave to fulfill my filial duty. From then on, if “Long Gong” remains safe, there may be a chance to meet again; if “Fu Hai” lives long, we may still exchange visits. Please cherish this; there is so much more I wish to say. (Chirping refers to the children’s playful fussing.)

Ma Ji reread the letter repeatedly, tears flowing endlessly. The two children clung to his neck and said, “Let’s go back.” Ma Ji’s sorrow intensified. He stroked the infants and asked, “Do you children know where home is?” The children did not answer, only crying. Ma Ji gazed out at the sea, vast and boundless in every direction. The fog made the people indistinct, the misty waves obscuring the end of the road. He placed the children in the boat and returned with deep melancholy.

Upon returning home, Ma Ji knew his mother’s time was short. He made arrangements for her funeral in advance, purchasing a coffin and building a grave, planting a hundred pine trees before the tomb. One year later, the old lady indeed passed away from illness. On the day of the funeral procession, the Dragon Lady arrived in plain attire and mourned by the grave. As everyone watched in astonishment, a sudden roar of wind and thunder erupted, and heavy rain poured down. The Dragon Lady vanished in an instant. The newly planted pine trees before the tomb had mostly withered, but after the downpour, they sprouted branches and new growth, all coming back to life.

When Fu Hai grew up, he missed his birth mother and threw himself into the sea, returning only after several days. Long Gong, being female, was not allowed to go, and she often wept behind closed doors. One day while napping, the Dragon Lady rushed in, comforted her daughter, and said, “My child will surely grow up and marry one day; why weep so?” She bestowed upon her an eight-foot coral tree, a stick of dragon brain incense, one hundred pearls, and a pair of precious boxes inlaid with gold as dowry for her daughter. Ma Ji heard the news and rushed into the room; husband and wife met, grasping hands and weeping softly. In an instant, a sudden thunderclap split the house, and the Dragon Lady had already slipped away.