A Fairytale of the Valley of Sky， a marvelous bond of trust between man and animal， a book of hope in search of an escape from life， dedicated to every child who has been searching for the heart’s desire.

Xu Zechen

Born in 1978 in Jiangsu Province， Xu Zechen obtained a master’s degree in Chinese literature at Peking University， and is now the deputy editor-in-chief at People’s Literature magazine. Xu has won numerous literary awards in China， including the Mao Dun Literature Prize， Lu Xun Literature Award， the Best Works Award and Lao She Literary Award. His works have been translated into English， French， German， Spanish， Italian， Korean， Arabic， etc.， totaling over 20 languages.

It was midnight. When the Wise and the Sleepy led the animals rushing into the zoo， over half of the people in Qingyun Valley were drunk. Monument Square was strewn with people snoring in a continuous stream. Those who were not drunk continued to drink. In order to set off the fireworks to celebrate the “Entrance Festival，” the sober people and the fun-loving children carried the drunken people aside， leaving a large space for lighting the fireworks. Two-thirds of the zookeepers fell asleep too. The few that weren’t down were mostly so drunk that they could not tell a monkey from a fox as both eyes were out of focus. Head Gardener Leng closed the door and went to sleep. He snored loudly seconds after being helped to bed by his subordinates. Not because of the alcohol， which he drank and basically threw up all of it， but because he threw up so many times that he was too tired to hold his head up.

Even though the Wise chose the best team players and made a rule， to keep it low， keep it quiet， do the catwalk， and never breathe out loud， before coming down from the mountain， the animals still made quite a bit of noise with their chattering. Yet， because fireworks were going off in the square， their voices were drowned out. The zookeepers remained oblivious until they went over the gate and into the zoo. Rescuing the other critters went very smoothly and were not at all as treacherous as they thought it would be！ The locks were small. A strong hand could twist them and they were broken， the time for liberating was coming. The trouble was with the locks for larger animals. The locks were large and strong， made of iron， stainless steel and copper. Trying to twist by force， even with all one’s strength would not work. They had to be smashed with stones. The locks on the odd cages in particular， were half the size of a basin， and it took a lot of effort to pick up a single lock.

The Sleepy and a couple of eagles and magpies were on sentry duty， standing in several places on the windowsills and doorways of the keeper’s lounge. Uncle Wacky commanded a group of bears， tigers， lions， and orangutans. Each animal held a large stone and followed the rhythm of the fireworks. When the fireworks ignited with a bang and exploded with a pop， the stone hit the lock so that the sound of the fireworks drowned out the sound of the lock being smashed！ He himself smashed the biggest lock， the one on Wacky’s cage.

Seeing Wacky， neither uncle nor nephew said anything at first. Only when Uncle lifted the big stone at his feet， Wacky said， “Uncle， uncle， thank you.”

Uncle said， “Don’t make a sound.”

“Uncle， don’t hurt anyone.”

“If you want to hurt someone， you don’t have to smash them. Just grab someone afraid of death and" you’ll have the key to everything.”

Then one smashed to the rhythm of the fireworks， and the other stood in the cage and watched. The fireworks went up into the sky. Half of Qingyun Valley was illuminated， and Wacky saw a tuft of flowery white hairs sprouting from Uncle’s body. Compared to the time when he took the cave by force， Uncle had aged a lot. The most obvious thing was that he had lost weight.

Smashing the locks in rhythm of the fireworks was starting to become more and more difficult. The frequency of the fireworks was significantly dying down. It was a long wait between each firework setting off in the sky. Smashing locks did not lead to fatigue， but holding the stone waiting to smash down did. It seemed it would continue on until next year’s “Entrance Festival.” The Sleepy also noticed this problem， flying over to discuss with the Wise.

The Wise said， “We have to get the parrots to gather.”

The Sleepy flapped their wings. This was a good idea.

A dozen parrots flew over from different directions.

“Girls， let your loved ones on the mountain hear your prettiest voices！” The Sleepy said， “You hear this ‘BOOM BOOM BANG BANG，’ don’t you？ After ‘BOOM，’ you all shout" ‘BANG！’ together. And after ‘BANG，’ you all shout" ‘BOOM！’ together.”

The parrots shouted together， “BOOM -- BANG！ BOOM -- BANG！”

The smashing of locks went smoothly， and the parrots had good rhythm. They cherished the chance to sing in chorus on the night of the “Entrance Festival.” But just as the Wise were about to break another lock， something went wrong. A lion screamed after the stone， lifted by itself， slipped out of its paws and smashed its own toenails. This beautiful， narcissistic lion treasured every part of its body， trimming its nails twice a week. This stone broke its toenails， which it had been maintaining for years. The lion screamed so long and so harshly that it did not even sound like a lion’s roar. The rock seemed to have hit its heart rather than its toenails.

The lion’s roar shook the keeper’s room roof with a rattle. Fine cracks appeared on the glass. The eagles and magpies， standing on the windowsills and in front of the doors， were also frightened and took off in flight. A few giddy keepers on duty came to their senses at once. The first thing they realised was not that anything had happened at the zoo， but that they wondered what animal roared like that. They had never heard it before. All at once it aroused the desire of inquiry in their profession， and rising from their beds and chairs， they drew open the door and ran out. These keepers were not so terrifying， and could only shout like lions at the sight of the great animal rescue， as it was too late to go back to their rooms to get their shotguns. What was terrible was that Head Gardener Leng， awakened by the roar， ran outside with his gun in his arms. This was also a professional instinct.

When he went out the door he figured something out. The three keepers were cornered by the two tigers and the roaring lion. The keepers could do nothing. The lion was rather embarrassed by the trouble it had caused by its own indiscretion. It would have pounced on any of the three keepers if they had made the slightest move， but the Wise told it， “No one is to be hurt！” It shook its chipped toenails and grunted a few times， letting out a deep breath. Head Gardener Leng， with good vision， understood at once who was at the centre of it all. He brought up his gun and pointed it straight at the Wise. The animals could not understand what he said， but the intention in his voice was certainly understandable. He told Lion to put the stone down， but it could no longer do so. It had already raised the stone， and it was just a matter of this last blow. Smash it down and the nephew would be liberated.

They stared into each other’s eyes， and confronted each other. BOOM！ BANG！ Only the fireworks were igniting， rising， and blooming. The parrots had stopped mimicking， holding the fake fireworks in their throats. They saw the complete process of blooming and silencing of a single firework in each other’s eyes. Head Gardener Leng shouted again. The Sleepy felt as if time had fallen asleep. Time moved so slow that it couldn’t catch its breath. Head Gardener Leng shouted a third time. He also hoped that his shouts would wake up his sleeping subordinates. But the Wise twisted around and smashed down with all its might against the lock with a stone.

The gun went off. The lock fell to the floor.

The Wacky pushed the iron door open and caught his uncle before he staggered and fell. “Uncle--Uncle！” It shouted.

The second shot went off at the same time Uncle pushed the Wacky to the side. The Wacky saw that Uncle had a round empty hole in his chest after a piece of his shoulder was missing. Uncle shook his body. With each shake， blood gushed out like a mountain spring. Uncle’s body was falling. The Wacky shouted， “Uncle--Uncle！”

“You called me uncle again.” Uncle was so calm and collected before he fell to the ground. The Wacky even saw Uncle smiling， and Uncle chuckled， “I can finally say it： Your home is yours.”

Head Gardener Leng still wanted to fire a third shot. The Sleepy， Eagle and Parrot swooped over together， pecking Leng’s eyes， grabbing Leng’s hands， tearing at Leng’s brain. Leng holding his head crouched down， and the gun fell to the ground. The Wacky helped Uncle lie down， stifled his head and walked to Leng’s side. It waved its hand at the Sleepy， Eagle and Parrot. It pulled up the shrunken Leng， hardened both of his hands， and slapped him across his head. Head Gardener Leng only had time to scream out half a sound before his head hung onto his right shoulder. Then the Wacky clenched its fists， squatted， opened his mouth wide， and roared wildly while beating its chest.

At the approximate time agreed upon， the Gourry， his Mum and Dad arrived at the zoo. Head Gardener Leng was on the ground. The sober and drunken keepers were in cages. All the animals were lined up and heading up the hill. The winged ones flew beneath the morning light. They saw the Wacky walking steadily at the head of the line， carrying his uncle’s body.