The Goat Who Chased the Spring Winds

Chapter One: The Last Winter Wind

In the high mountains of Qingli Valley, where the wind sang through bamboo trees and snow capped the cliffs, lived a small white goat named Mei. Her coat was soft as cloud-fleece, her eyes golden as morning sun, and her spirit restless as the wind itself.

The villagers who lived at the edge of the valley often saw Mei dancing along ridges, leaping from stone to stone as if in conversation with the sky. She was no ordinary goat; she had been born during the Spring Festival when plum blossoms first opened and red lanterns swayed like fireflies in the dusk. The old woman who raised her, Granny Tao, often said, "This little one has the wind in her heart."

As the final snow of winter fell, Mei felt a strange tug within her. It wasn't hunger, nor cold, but something deeper—a longing. Each day she climbed higher, chasing the sun and listening to the whispering winds.

"Spring is coming," Granny Tao whispered as she fed her, stroking her soft back. "But some springs must be found, little one."

Chapter Two: The Whispers in the Bamboo

The wind brought stories. That was what Granny Tao always said. And Mei believed it.

That night, the wind whistled differently. It didn't howl or moan as winter winds do. It laughed, sang, teased. Mei lifted her head from her straw bed and stepped into the night. Bamboo leaves rustled as if speaking, and a single voice seemed to dance on the air.

"To the east," it whispered. "To the valley where peach blossoms fall."

Mei pawed the ground. Her heart beat with sudden clarity. She would go. She would chase the wind to where Spring began.

She nuzzled Granny Tao's hand one last time as she slept, then trotted silently into the darkness, the voice of the wind leading her way.

Chapter Three: The First Journey

The path to the eastern valley was steep and wild. Mei trotted through ice-slick passes, leapt frozen streams, and curled beneath pine trees for rest. She met other travelers—crows who warned of a coming storm, a fox who tried to trick her into turning back, and a badger who offered her shelter in exchange for stories.

Each time she faltered, the wind returned to guide her.

"You are close," it would whisper. "You are brave."

After days of climbing and wandering, she saw it: a carpet of green beyond the snowline, and in the center, the first peach tree in bloom. One blossom, then two, pink and defiant against the winter-white world.

Chapter Four: The Garden of the Four Seasons

Mei followed the wind into a hidden glade, where a peculiar garden sat in the center of four stone gates. Each gate bore a symbol—snowflake, flower, sun, and leaf.

"Welcome, traveler," said a voice. A large crane stepped forward, her wings speckled with frost and dew. "You have reached the Garden of the Four Seasons. Few ever do."

The crane, named Jing, explained that each season guarded part of the world, and the winds carried news between them. Mei, born under the Spring Wind, was chosen to find the missing breeze that would awaken the season fully.

"Winter still lingers," Jing warned. "Spring cannot rise until the final breeze returns."

Mei agreed to go farther—beyond the garden, into the forgotten woods where even the winds dared not tread.

Chapter Five: The Silent Forest

The forest was thick and gray. The trees were ancient, their bark gnarled like sleeping dragons. No birds sang. No branches moved. Even Mei's hooves felt heavier here.

A creature stirred in the shadows. It was the Wind-Eater—a beast who fed on movement, song, and change.

"I have taken the breeze you seek," it growled. "Spring cannot come. I like the silence."

Mei lowered her horns. "Then I must take it back."

A chase began—through hollows and across fallen logs. Mei ran not just with speed but with purpose. She kicked loose leaves, stomped puddles, and filled the forest with echoes. The Wind-Eater shrieked, weakening with each sound. The forest stirred. A breeze slipped free and rushed to Mei’s side.

"Thank you," it said, circling her like silk.

Chapter Six: Spring's Return

Mei returned to the Garden, wind trailing behind her like a kite’s tail.

The gates opened, the tree bloomed, and a warm mist spread through the valley. Birds returned. Flowers opened. Rivers laughed again.

"You have done what even cranes could not," Jing said, bowing.

The breeze whispered to Mei, "Your place is here, but your spirit is for the skies."

And so, Mei returned to Qingli Valley, a little taller, a little wiser.

Granny Tao hugged her close. "Ah," she said with a smile, "I knew you’d follow the wind."

Epilogue: The Whispering Goat

Now every spring, a white goat dances along the cliffs, blossoms swirling in her wake. Villagers say the winds follow her, and children leave peach petals on the paths in hopes she’ll visit.

Some say she’s just a goat. But the wind knows better.

The wind always remembers the one who chased it—and caught it.