Tenet 4 - Equity.

Once, in the kingdom of valleys and rivers, two villages lay divided by the steady current of the Yulai River. On one side of the river lived the people of Kaoru, known for their vast fields of rice. On the other side were the people of Shiren, who raised strong water buffalo that plowed the land. Both villages owed their lives to the river, yet the river had become a source of discord.

Years ago, the Yulai River flooded its banks during an unrelenting monsoon. Crops were drowned, homes were swept away, and the waters took the lives of many in both villages. In their grief and loss, the people of Kaoru and Shiren turned their sorrow outward, seeking someone to blame.

The people of Kaoru accused Shiren of being careless. "They cleared the forests upstream," they said, "weakening the soil so the river could run wild!"

The people of Shiren retorted with equal fury: "It is Kaoru’s greed! They drew too much water for their fields, leaving the river unbalanced and vengeful."

Years passed, but the wounds remained. Both villages continued their accusations, neither seeking understanding. The river that had once sustained their lives now stood as a silent witness to their bitterness.

In this land, there lived a wandering monk named Sei. Known for his quiet wisdom, Sei carried no possessions, only the teachings he had gathered from many years of contemplation. One day, Sei came to the banks of the Yulai River, where he saw the villagers of Kaoru and Shiren shouting across the water, their anger echoing like the cries of wounded animals.

The monk watched for a time, his expression calm as the river itself. Then, without a word, he stepped into the river and began stacking stones, one atop the other, as if to build a path across the water. The villagers paused their shouting to watch this strange figure. His movements were deliberate, each stone placed with care.

When one villager could no longer contain his curiosity, he called out, "Monk, what are you doing? The river will swallow your stones, and your work will be for nothing!"

Sei looked up, a faint smile on his face. "Tell me, does the river swallow your anger as well? Or does it grow deeper with every word you shout?"

The villagers were taken aback. Some murmured among themselves, others fell silent. Sei continued stacking stones until the water’s current toppled his work. Then, he sat on the bank and beckoned both villages to come closer.

When they had gathered, the monk spoke:

"The river is not your enemy. It does not rise in anger, nor does it flood in vengeance. It flows because that is its nature. When the rains come, it swells. When the rains cease, it calms. Yet, you fill the river’s silence with your cries, blaming it for what has passed. Tell me, is it the river that has failed you, or is it you who have failed to see its truth?"

The villagers looked at one another, unsure how to respond. Seeing their confusion, Sei continued.

"When the flood came, it took from both Kaoru and Shiren. But in your pain, you did not see your shared loss. Instead, you sought an enemy, and in doing so, you became enemies to each other. This is the way of the unbalanced heart—it searches for blame where patience and clarity are needed."

One elder from Kaoru stepped forward, bowing his head. "Wise one, if blame is not the answer, then how do we find justice? The flood left us broken. Surely, someone must be at fault."

Sei picked up a pebble from the riverbank and held it before them. "This pebble is light in my hand. But if I hold it too tightly, it will cut into my palm. Justice is like this pebble—it must be held with care, neither gripped with rage nor discarded thoughtlessly. To find balance, you must first release the burden of blame."

He pointed to the river. "True justice flows like water. It does not rush to find its path but seeks the lowest point, where it can settle. Patience allows clarity to rise, and only in clarity can fairness emerge. If you act in haste, you will deepen the divide. But if you act with wisdom, you will heal the wounds of the past."

The villagers listened, and a stillness settled over them, as if the river itself had paused to hear the monk’s words.

Sei stood, motioning for the villagers to follow him. He led them along the river’s edge to a spot where the flood had broken the banks. There, the land lay bare, stripped of trees and vegetation.

"This is where you must begin," he said. "Not by shouting across the water, but by planting new roots on either side. Each tree you plant is an offering of peace. Each stone you place strengthens the banks. And in time, as the river flows between you, it will no longer divide, but connect."

Moved by his words, the people of Kaoru and Shiren agreed to lay down their grievances. They began to work side by side, planting trees, rebuilding the riverbanks, and mending not only the land but the bonds between their villages.

As the seasons passed, the Yulai River flowed steadily once more, no longer burdened by the weight of anger and blame. And the people, too, grew steady in their hearts, having learned that true justice is not a cry for vengeance, but the quiet work of restoring balance.