Lord Ye Zigao loved dragons. He carved dragons on his hooks, chiseled dragons on his vessels, painted dragons on the beams of his house. When the dragon of heaven heard, it descended — peering its head through his window, trailing its tail into his hall. Lord Ye saw it, dropped everything and fled, scared out of his soul, his face drained of color. So Lord Ye did not love dragons; he loved what looks like a dragon but is not a dragon.
What looks like a dragon but is not. So what dragon is this almost-dragon? The dragon figures painted on paper and carved in stone by those before him, passed through the imagination of his own mind — that vivid, living dragon.
He is not like those painters, infatuated with the spirit of galloping horses, who fall in love with a wild horse and then paint horses. His dragon is only the dragon in his mind; the dragon in his mind is the dragon he loves. As for the real dragon — a beautiful misunderstanding.
So the one who failed to understand the situation was not only Lord Ye, but also the dragon. Lord Ye does not love you; please do not flatter yourself and come bothering him. Then — should we really laugh at Lord Ye?
The true value of this fable lies in the question: what is it that you actually love? The dragon you love — is it the real dragon in the sky?
Ask the same question again. Is the freedom you pursue real freedom? Suppose you long for the unrestrained life that freedom brings, then work for it, then get it — only to find that the price of being unrestrained is having nothing to rely on. At that point, constraint means support; freedom means you must answer for yourself. Someone singing the song of freedom while clutching money asked from their parents — that is not freedom; that is selfishness.
By now, do you still laugh at Lord Ye, the fool who never even knew what a dragon was, yet spent his heart’s blood painting and loving one? Is this almost-dragon a joke? No. She is neither the moon in the water nor the flower in the mirror; nothing vulgar in this world can compare with her.
She is the most beautiful. Her name is the Ideal — the most beautiful non-dragon.