Once upon a time in the Long-Hua continent, there lived a young man by the name of Mian Bao. Mian Bao made money daily by selling steamed buns, and he was often made fun of for having a milky-white complexion, rather like a steamed bun.

As he could not fight and had low cultivation, he was considered to be worthless in the eyes of most of the people living in his village. Even the swordsmiths and fry-cooks had higher cultivation than he did.

Because of his low cultivation and unfortunate complexion, the villagers called him “Mian Mian Chu Bao”, which meant “eating steamed buns all the time”. Mian Bao felt sad about it, but there was very little he could do. Because he had a kind and gentle nature, he often didn’t fight back or argue. If anyone needed help, he would still help them the best he could, even though they weren’t always grateful in the end.

One day, on a late summer morning, Mian Bao, who was walking around selling buns as usual, saw a swineherd. Unlike most of the village swineherds, this swineherd was richly dressed, decked in high-quality silk and brocade, rather like a young master from a noble family. On top of that, he was also very tall and handsome.

Now, this was not a very uncommon sight, for rich and noble young masters sometimes inherited land and farms from their parents. At present, the swineherd was trying to send some unruly pigs into a sty. He looked very angry, and was scolding the pigs loudly, although there was also a very helpless look on his face.

“Go in, will you, you stupid pigs!” he shouted at his plump, pink pigs. They were very fat indeed.

The pigs ignored their master, chewing disdainfully. They refused to move. One smart one even turned its back on him, and snorted twice.

When the handsome swineherd saw this, his face grew even redder.

“I’ll chase you if you don’t go in!” he roared, and proceeded to chase the pigs. Unfortunately, the mother pig he had attempted to chase was so heavy and unmovable like a boulder that he tripped right over her and fell— splat! —into the mud.

The pigs, who were eyeing him, snorted with laughter. The swineherd sat up, and for a while he was speechless. He got up and brushed himself.

Mian Bao, who was nearby, felt sorry for this young master. The tall young man was obviously not used to farm work. To inherit a farm like this was probably hell on earth for him.

Quietly, Mian Bao stepped out, and scattered a few pieces of buns into the sty.

The pigs, smelling the delicious pieces of steamed bread, ran into the sty and began to gobble the buns up. When they were all safely in the sty, Mian Bao shut the gate. He bowed at the swineherd, who was still speechless, and went on his way.

Late the next morning, Mian Bao saw the familiar scene reoccurring again. The swineherd’s face was as red as ever, hot and angry, but when he saw Mian Bao walking nearby, he simmered down at once. He hailed the steamed bun seller over.

“You there,” he called. “Come here and let me buy some buns.”

Mian Bao stared at him. Unfortunately, he was sold out that morning, and was just returning home to rest.

“I’m sorry, Young Master,” said Mian Bao. “I have no more steamed buns today. But if you can wait a while, I’ll come back with something.”

Mian Bao hurried home, and when he went back to the pigsty, he was holding some leftover meat which he had used to stuff the buns. He scattered them into the sty and the pigs trotted in. After that, the two shut the gate as usual.

The next day, Mian Bao kept aside two buns in his basket, even though he would make additional money selling them. When he came by the pigsty, there was the swineherd as usual. This time he looked a lot less angry than he did before.

“You’ve come on time,” said the swineherd, eagerly. “Do you have any buns I can buy?”

“I have two,” replied Mian Bao. “One for the pigs—and ah, if you don’t mind, the other one is free for you. Welcome to our village.”

“Welcome to…” the swineherd echoed, trailing away. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Instead of looking incredulous, the swineherd looked genuinely curious. Mian Bao shook his head. Most of his time was preoccupied with making buns or coming up with new types of fillings for them, so apart from the villagers, Mian Bao knew very few outsiders.

The swineherd said nothing more, but paid up for one bun. He shut the gate after the pigs went into the sty, and ate the other bun. Raising his brows, he smiled for the first time.

“This is delicious!”

Mian Bao was stunned. Noble young masters were already quite rare to see around the village, but this handsome swineherd looked handsomer than even the swordsmith’s handsomest son. He was gallant like a warrior, yet more refined. When he smiled, he looked even better.

For the next couple of weeks, Mian Bao stopped by the pigsty every day and the two repeated what was already their routine. Sometimes they shared a joke or two, and while the swineherd was still sometimes angry at his rude pigs, he never scolded them as much anymore. Mian Bao began to look forward to seeing this young master and chatting with him every day.

One day, however, swineherd disappeared. His pigs were still there, so Mian Bao thought he would be back the next day. He fed the animals as usual, and then went home.

The next day, the swineherd was replaced by an old man. Mian Bao went up to him and asked where his new friend was. The old man cocked a brow at him and said, “You don’t know? He’s gone back home—his father wants him back for something urgent. He won’t be coming back anymore.”

Crestfallen, Mian Bao trekked his way back home. He was sad, and already missed his friend although they were apart for only two days.

The next morning, when Mian Bao gathered his basket to go to the marketplace, he heard a loud banging at his door. He hurried to it and was shocked to see a large number of soldiers and generals at his doorstep. Behind them, a big group of villagers had gathered to rubberneck. It seemed like Mian Bao may have done something to be arrested.

“Are you Mian Bao?” asked one of the generals in blue, sternly. Scared to death, Mian Bao shivered like a leaf, but nodded.

“It’s the correct house!” shouted the soldier standing behind the general, towards a decorated palanquin parked outside. Suddenly, the tasselled curtains opened, and out of the palanquin stepped the swineherd.

Every villager who was rubbernecking gasped. This young man was the Second Prince!

“I’m sorry I went away suddenly,” said the prince to a very astonished Mian Bao. “My father, the Emperor, had wanted me to choose a marriage mate already. I just went back to the palace to inform him that I’ll be bringing back a person today. Mian Bao, won’t you marry me?”

Cultivators could live forever, and with divine pills, Mian Bao would be able to live forever too. The Emperor had sent his son to a farm to learn some meaningful things in life before getting married and inheriting the eastern mansion. His Majesty had been very pleased to hear that his spoiled and rough-tempered second son had fallen in love with a humble bun seller.

Till today, after many generations, the tale of how a simple bun seller met and married a royal is still passed down in the Long-Hua continent. Every good deed brings a blessing, sometimes one that you don't expect.