Immediately the farmer and his wife slaughtered the pig.  Sure enough, inside its stomach they found a pair of candles as white as mutton-fat jade, only two inches long, just as the outsider had said.

They could hardly wait for the night.  The minute the sun had set, they prepared a table, spread out dishes of rice and fruits and placed the pair of candles in the center.  The farmer, his hands trembling, lit the candles.  He and his wife kowtowed three times.  No sooner had they straightened up from the third kowtow than they heard clear, crisp tinkling in the sky.  They looked up and saw gold and silver nuggets and all kinds of colorful precious stones flying around, bumping into each other.  The whole phenomenon looked as magnificent as fireworks at the coronation of an emperor.

The treasures, though, were forever flying in the sky refusing to come down.  Sometimes they seemed just above their heads, but when the farmer and his wife stretched out their arms or jumped up trying to catch them, the precious treasures were always just beyond their reach.  The candles had burned halfway down.  Desperate, the couple began knocking their heads on the ground like woodpeckers pecking for ants.  The treasures shone more brilliantly than ever, but they kept on flying in the sky.  The two-inch candles did not take long to die down.  As the flames flickered out, the treasures disappeared and left total darkness.  POP!  Their hope of becoming rich had vanished like a soap bubble.

A year went past.  One day, the stranger appeared again. The farmer and his wife were laboring on the same small piece of land, in the same tattered clothes—as poor as when the stranger first saw them.  Catching sight of the stranger, the farmer stopped working, wiped his face, and told the stranger what had happened.

“Oh yes,” the stranger said, “I remember now.  Your wife interrupted me that day, just as I was about to reveal the crucial point.  You must throw rice at the flying treasures in order to make them fall down.”

Silently the farmer picked up his hoe and resumed working.  All the time the stranger was speaking, the farmer’s wife never lifted her head once or said a word.