Years ago in France, or maybe it was Bulgaria. I forget. No, it was China. Years ago in China, possibly Japan—it was one of those Asian countries—years ago in either China or Japan, there lived a ruler who had a spoiled child named So Su Mi. Sometimes it was a hyphenated name: So Su Mi-Already. This child was extremely spoiled. You have never seen a child more spoiled than So Su Mi. Think of the most spoiled child you have ever known, and then multiply by a million. That is how spoiled So Su Mi was.
The reason this child was spoiled is because the father spoiled her. Whatever she wanted, she wrote her father eloquent letters in calligraphy on expensive rice paper until she got it. And if that didn’t work, she threw a wing-ding, knock-em-down, drag-em-out, kicking and screaming temper tantrum fit on the Persian rug and smashed antique vases and didn’t apologize.
So, the girl had everything: guinea pigs with fancy ruffled collars. An elephant with a two-story howda, a jade tower with a tea room at the very top that no one else was allowed to go into except for the guinea pigs in their collars. But you know how it goes with this sort of kid—they keep wanting and wanting.
One day So Su Mi decided to explore her sweet tooth.
“Daddy, I want some candy,” she said to her father, who was busy at his desk attending to kingly matters.
“Yes, my little tender tofu. Anything.” So Su Mi-Already thought this was a little too easy, so she upped the asking.
“But Daddy, I want a lot of candy.”
“Yes, my little porcelain trinket.”
“Dad, you’re not hearing me. I want a lot of candy.”
“Yes, my little—“
“Dad, I want one million pieces of candy. Now.” The king stopped writing his royal edict and looked at the ceiling a moment in thought, then started counting off on his fingers.
“It’s more than all your fingers, Dad. And toes.”
“Right,” said the king, and he called for his servants to begin collecting candy. Off these servants went into the small but great kingdom collecting all the candy they could find. This of course caused no end of grief and distress among the native candy lovers, of which there were many. The servants took all the candy in the name of the princess So Su Mi. The princess made no friends that day, but then she never made friends, so that didn’t matter to her. The servants brought the candy back to the castle and dumped it in the middle of the marble-floored Grand Hall.
“Now count it,” said So Su Mi. They started counting, but hadn’t counted far before So Su Mi got bored and started eating the candy. She could pop candy down the hatch as quick as anyone, and the servants had to go out and collect even more to make up for what she ate.
This went on for several months until the God of Candyness could bear it no longer and struck the candy-crazed princess down with a curse. With a great whoosh all the candy on the floor flew up into the air and hung thickly around her. She cried out in surprise and delight, for now she didn’t have to bend down to pick up the candy. So much easier! She reached out to take one, but to her dismay it vanished as she touched it and reappeared a few inches away from her grasping fingers. She tried again, and again the ever-so-delicious candy vanished and reappeared elsewhere. And again, and again.
Eventually she gave up, but still the candy hung in a cloud around her. Wherever she went, the candy went with her, but never again would she taste those wonderful little sugary treats. In despair, she left the castle and roamed far and wide with only a million pieces of candy to accompany her. Finally the great God of Candyness took pity on her and brought her up into the heavens with her where So Su Mi became the constellation known today as the ‘Candy Princess.’ All the stars around her are those million pieces of candy she will never have.
And that’s the true legend of the Candy Princess and the Curse of the Million.
K-blog 