Once upon a time, in a peaceful valley surrounded by mountains, lived a hundred or so families. Beyond the valley stood a mountain no one dared to visit—everyone called it "Muddle Mountain," for it was said to hide a fierce beast named "Chaos." It had no face or eyes, yet could make people muddle-headed, so much so that they'd forget even their own names.
In the valley lived a hardworking young man named A Fu. He'd head to the fields before dawn each day and often helped neighbors repair their houses. But lately, strange things had been happening in the valley: the blacksmith had forgotten how to forge iron, the seamstress held scissors not knowing how to cut cloth, and even the cleverest little children could only sit on the ground in a daze—there was no doubt the Chaos Beast was up to no good!
The village chief was so worried his beard had turned white. He banged his family's ancient bronze gong until it rang out loud and clear: "Whoever can drive the Chaos Beast away from Muddle Mountain will be given the valley's richest farmland!" But the villagers just looked at one another, and no one dared to step forward.
Then A Fu stood up: "I'll go! Even if it can make me muddle-headed, I can't watch everyone turn into fools!" He tucked a few corn buns and a jug of water into his pouch, fastened a woodcutter's knife to his belt, and set off for Muddle Mountain.
As soon as he reached the mountain foot, A Fu felt his head grow dizzy and the path before him twist and turn. He bit his tongue to stay alert and climbed up along the faint trail. Before long, he heard a strange whoosh-whoosh sound, and then a great round creature appeared before him—it looked like a hornless ox or a plump bear, covered in gray fur, with a smooth face and no features at all. Yet it "saw" A Fu and spoke: "Come, young man—stop your steps and sleep with me! In dreams, there's endless sweet cake, no work to do—how lovely life can be!"
A Fu's eyelids grew heavy, and he was about to sit down when he suddenly remembered the little neighbor child waiting for his stories, and the blacksmith waiting to make new hoes for everyone. He shook his head hard, pulled out a small clay whistle his grandmother had left him, and blew it.
The whistle's clear sound flowed like the valley stream or sang like birds in the trees. The Chaos Beast jumped in surprise, rolling around on the ground: "Ugly! Ugly! That sound's too clear! I love all things muddled and blurred—when everyone's confused, I feel at ease!"
It turned out the Chaos Beast hated clear sounds and clear thoughts more than anything. It fed on people's "sense of clarity," growing fatter as it made them muddle-headed. When A Fu understood this, he blew the whistle even louder and shouted: "My neighbors are waiting for me! I won't be muddled, and neither will the valley folk!"
The clear whistle and loud shouts echoed through the mountains. The Chaos Beast rolled about in distress, and the gray mist around it slowly faded away. It shrank smaller and smaller until it became a round little creature, speaking pitifully: "I… I didn't mean to cause trouble… I just had no one to talk to—I was so lonely, I wanted everyone to stay with me…"
A Fu stopped blowing the whistle and looked at the tiny Chaos Beast: "If you stop making people muddle-headed, we can be friends! The valley folk are kind—you can help guard the mountains, and we'll bring you good food!"
The Chaos Beast was overjoyed, tumbling somersaults on the ground. The mist on its body turned into fresh, cool wind. It followed A Fu down the mountain and never caused trouble again—instead, it helped smooth out the messy mountain paths. The valley folk slowly regained their clarity: the blacksmith forged sharper hoes, the seamstress stitched more beautiful clothes, and everyone built a cozy den for the Chaos Beast at the mountain foot, with someone bringing it food each day.
Even now, the old folks in the peaceful valley still pat little children's heads and say: "Don't be like the old Chaos Beast on Muddle Mountain! When your heart is clear and you act with purpose, you'll live happily. But if you only think of your own loneliness and make others muddled—well, that's just plain wrong!"