Top 10 Most Meaningful and Engaging Folk Tales

In the village of Quỳnh, there lived a rich man who was not only ignorant but also pretended to be educated. From time to time, he would visit the scholar's house, asking to borrow books. Of course, when he took them home, he couldn’t understand a thing. One day, Quỳnh noticed the man lurking near his gate and quickly set up a bamboo bench in the yard, lying down with his belly exposed to the sun. The rich man entered, puzzled, and asked:

– What are you doing?

Quỳnh replied:

– Oh, nothing much! Just drying my books in the sun to prevent them from getting moldy.

– Where are the books?

Quỳnh pointed to his belly:

– The books are right here, inside me!

Realizing he was being subtly mocked, the rich man slunk away.

Another time, the rich man invited Quỳnh over to his house. Eager to redeem himself, he lay on the ground, shirtless, waiting for his guest... As Quỳnh entered, the rich man mimicked Quỳnh's earlier words:

– I’m just drying my books to keep them fresh.

Suddenly, Quỳnh burst out laughing, patted the man’s round belly and said:

– Your belly is full of uneaten food that needs drying, not books!

The rich man stared in disbelief:

– How did you know?

Quỳnh laughed even harder, shook the man’s large belly and said:

– I can hear it! Your stomach is growling, it’s the sound of rice, chicken, fish, and pork, not books!

Reluctantly, the rich man followed Quỳnh's advice, dressed, and awkwardly returned to his guests.

Long ago, in the region of Bac Ninh, known for its beautiful women, there was a young woman from the village of Cach Bi. She married a scholar named Nguyen Hanh, who served as the district chief of Thuy Duong, and was known as the Lady of Thuy Duong. After having a son at just seven months old, her husband passed away. Though still young and beautiful, she decided to remain a widow, honoring her late husband and raising their child alone.

In the village, there was a local official, a corrupt and powerful man, who often tried to flirt with the widow. He saw her as a beautiful young woman and sought to take advantage of her vulnerability. However, the widow skillfully avoided his advances, telling him to wait until her mourning period was over. One day, the official ambushed her on her way back from the market, grabbing her inappropriately. She fled to her home, prayed before her husband's altar, then decided to leave the house and take her child to the Kim Giang Temple to live as a nun. When her son turned seven, she returned home, held a ceremony to honor her late husband, slaughtered a buffalo, and invited the villagers for a feast. The official, still shameless, came to remind her of his earlier promises. She told him to wait until after the ceremony was complete.

In front of the whole village, she performed the rites for her husband, then took a sharp knife, pointing it at the official’s face, and accused him of humiliating her. She declared that she had lived this long for her son, who was too young to carry on his father's legacy, but now, with him old enough, she could die and reunite with her husband in the afterlife. With these words, she cut off the breast the official had once molested, and collapsed to the ground, dying. The villagers immediately captured the corrupt official and brought him to the authorities for justice.

The son of the Lady of Thuy Duong, Nguyen Cao, grew up to become a scholar and passed the imperial exams during the reign of Emperor Tu Duc. After the country fell, he returned to his village, destitute. The French invited him to serve under their regime, but he refused. When they expressed doubt about his loyalty, he replied, 'If you suspect me, I will cut open my stomach for you to see.'

As he spoke, he used his fingernail to puncture his stomach and pulled out his intestines. The French quickly sent for doctors to save him, but Nguyen Cao, unwilling to live under their rule, bit his tongue and committed suicide.

Locals often say: 'An heroic mother gave birth to a legendary son.'

Once, there was a woman who worked as a weaver. She was smart and resourceful, but her husband was a fool who couldn't do any work. One day, she asked him to take some fabric to the market and sell it. She warned him, 'If you don’t get four coins for each piece, don’t sell them.'

He went to the market, shouting hoarsely, but no one bought his fabric. Eventually, an old man bought two pieces, but he didn’t have any money on him. He told the husband, 'Come to my house later; I’ll pay you then. My house is in this village.'

The husband asked, 'Where is your house?'

The old man replied, 'It’s where the market is crowded but no one is selling, where a flute-like sound is heard in the wind, and near a single bamboo tree.' I’ll give you the money when you find it.'

The husband wandered all day, asking everyone about this place, but no one could give him an answer. People just told him, 'You’ve been tricked by a conman.'

By nightfall, he returned home, empty-handed and in tears. His wife asked why, and he explained the whole story. She calmly said, 'It’s easy to find! The crowded market is the school, the flute-like sound is the reeds swaying in the wind, and the single bamboo tree is a patch of garlic or onions. Look for the school with reeds and garlic near it.'

The next day, the husband set out again. Sure enough, he found the old man, who turned out to be a teacher. The teacher asked how the husband had managed to find his house, and the husband replied, 'My wife told me.' The teacher thought to himself, 'That wife must be a clever woman.' That day, the teacher invited the husband to stay for a meal. Afterward, the teacher gave him a gift for his wife. When the husband returned home, he presented his wife with a package containing a cow dung with a jasmine flower stuck in it.

The wife, understanding the message, felt humiliated. The teacher’s gift was a cruel insult: 'A wise wife with a foolish husband is like a jasmine flower in a pile of cow dung.'

She cried, feeling miserable about her fate, and began to despise her foolish husband. In a fit of despair, she ran to the riverbank, ready to end her life.

Meanwhile, the teacher, realizing the harshness of his prank, became worried about the outcome. He feared the woman might harm herself, so he rushed to the riverbank with a fishing basket. When he saw her, he asked her to move so he could fish. The woman looked up and saw the old man with his torn basket, thinking, 'This man is even more foolish than my husband.' She then realized that, despite her husband’s foolishness, he wasn’t the worst. She abandoned her plan to commit suicide and went home.

Long ago, in a mountain cave, there lived a monstrous serpent. Its head was as large as a water jar, with a red crest, eyes as big as tangerines, and a body longer than a rod. Wherever it slithered, it caused a storm, uprooting trees and kicking up dust. It had devoured countless animals and people. The people tried many methods to kill it, but the serpent only became more destructive. Eventually, the king ordered a temple to be built for the serpent and promised to sacrifice one person each year to prevent further destruction. The king also declared that anyone who killed the beast would be granted a noble title and the princess’s hand in marriage.

A young man, who had been raised by a monk at a mountain temple, was skilled in sword fighting and martial arts. One day, after receiving a precious sword from his teacher, he was allowed to leave the temple. After a long journey, he found a temple glowing dimly in the distance and decided to stop and rest. As he entered the temple, he heard the sound of crying. Curious, he followed the sound to find a young woman, about eighteen or twenty, tied to a pillar. He quickly untied her and asked, 'Why are you tied up here?'

The woman wiped away her tears and said, 'Who are you, and do you not know this is the serpent's temple?' She then explained how the serpent demanded a human sacrifice each year, and tearfully added, 'My family consists only of my elderly mother and me. I don't mind dying, but I pity my mother who will be left without anyone to care for her. Please, leave here quickly, or the serpent will come and kill you.'

The young man asked, 'When will it come?' She replied, 'It will be here before dawn.'

The young man said gently, 'Let me take your place and sacrifice myself so you can return to your mother.'

The woman protested, 'I cannot bear to let someone else die for me. Let me suffer my fate, but please, if you pass by my village, comfort my mother.'

'No,' the young man insisted. 'You must leave, and I will face the serpent.'

He drew his sword and said, 'It cannot harm me. Go now, and I will confront the beast.'

He led the woman out of the forest, then returned to the temple, preparing for the serpent's arrival.

At midnight, the sound of rustling leaves filled the air, followed by a strong, nauseating smell. The young man drew his sword and hid behind a pillar. The serpent, as usual, slithered through the wall, but as soon as its head entered, the young man attacked. His sword gleamed like a flash of lightning in the dark. The beast, wounded, lunged to swallow him, but he struck it again. The serpent, enraged, roared and lashed out with its tail, sending the young man rolling across the ground. Just as it was about to swallow him, he sprang up and struck it again. However, the force of the blow broke his sword. Undeterred, he continued to strike until the serpent, severely wounded, writhed in agony, causing the temple walls to collapse. With one final swing, the young man severed its head.

Exhausted and thirsty, he wandered through the forest in search of water. After drinking, he fell asleep by a stream, too tired to continue.

The next day, a palace guard arrived at the temple to check for any activity. He was shocked to find the serpent's corpse and the woman missing. Remembering the king's promise, the guard quickly took the serpent's head and rushed back to the palace. Upon seeing the head, the king was delighted. He asked, 'Who killed the serpent?' The guard replied, 'It was I, your majesty.' The king praised him and honored him with a noble title, and he also promised the guard the princess's hand in marriage.

The wedding was a grand affair. However, during the celebration, a strange guest arrived and requested to see the king. The king allowed him in. It was the young man who had slain the serpent. The king asked, 'What is it you seek?' The young man replied, 'I only ask permission to take a piece of my broken sword from the serpent’s head.'

The king was stunned. 'So it was not the prince who killed the serpent?' The prince, pale and nervous, tried to deny it, but the king ordered the guards to inspect the serpent’s head. They found the piece of sword and confirmed it matched the young man’s weapon. The king then exclaimed, 'So the prince has deceived us all.'

Without hesitation, the king stripped the prince of his title and awarded it to the young man. The king seated him in the prince's place and ordered the wedding to continue as planned. Meanwhile, the deceptive guard was taken to the execution grounds.

'In the fields of Đồng Tháp Mười, the storks soar high'

'The waters of Tháp Mười sparkle with fish and shrimp.'

Beyond the fertile rice fields and abundant fish of Đồng Tháp Mười, and the endless lotus blossoms, there is the tale of a place that many may not know: Cao Lãnh. Once upon a time, a couple, Đỗ Công Tường, known as Lãnh, moved from Central Vietnam to settle here. After several years of hard work, their home grew prosperous. Lãnh was known for his honesty, and the villagers elected him as a 'câu đương'—a position to settle disputes.

Mr. and Mrs. Lãnh planted an orchard of oranges, and the local villagers would often gather there to trade and socialize. Over time, this place became the marketplace known as Cầu Ông Lãnh.

In the year of the Canh Thìn (1820), a severe cholera epidemic spread, causing many deaths. The once-bustling village became desolate. At that time, with no medicine available, people believed that the epidemic was a divine punishment. Mr. Lãnh, adhering to the common beliefs of the time, set up an altar in the marketplace to pray to the heavens and spirits, seeking relief for the people. Remarkably, he and his wife vowed to sacrifice themselves to end the suffering of the villagers.

After the prayer, they fasted for three days. On the fourth morning, Mrs. Lãnh fell ill and passed away that night. As Mr. Lãnh prepared for her funeral, he too became sick and died suddenly. After the villagers buried them, the epidemic miraculously ceased, and the village returned to normal life. The people believed that the couple’s sacrifice had saved them from the plague. To honor them, the villagers built a shrine at their grave in Mỹ Trà village, beside the Thầy Khâm canal, known as the Shrine of the Market Keeper.

The orange orchard that became a marketplace was then called by the people 'Cầu Lãnh' in honor of Mr. Lãnh’s role as the 'câu đương.' Over time, the name evolved, and 'Cầu Lãnh' was mispronounced as 'Cao Lãnh,' which is the name still used today.

One winter, Quỳnh had to travel to meet a relative living in Thăng Long. The journey was long, taking about a week on foot, and Quỳnh had only one silver coin in his possession. By the third day, his money was gone, and by evening, the sky grew overcast with light rain and biting winds. Hungry, Quỳnh stumbled upon a young herder returning home with his buffalo and asked for directions to the village headman's house.

The headman of this village was not only rich but also notorious for his cunning ways. After a few words, he deduced that his guest was no ordinary traveler, so he warmly invited Quỳnh to stay and ordered his servants to prepare a lavish meal. But over the next few days, Quỳnh came and went without revealing his official position, which aroused the headman’s suspicion. That evening, after dinner, Quỳnh excused himself to his room, which was adjacent to the headman’s bedroom. Once there, Quỳnh pretended to sleep but, knowing the headman was watching, he quietly got up, lit a lamp, and took out a small pouch containing three small square packets. He pretended to write something on them, murmuring aloud for the headman to overhear: 'Poison of the king's court... Poison of the queen... Poison of the prince.' After sealing the packets back in the pouch, he returned to bed, making sure to wait until the headman went to sleep before slipping out of his room.

The next morning, as the sun began to rise, soldiers stormed the headman’s house. Quỳnh was swiftly bound, placed on a cart, and taken to the capital.

At the royal court, Quỳnh was brought forward with witnesses and evidence against him. The king himself opened the pouch, only to find that it contained nothing sinister—just small bundles of dried rice. Disappointed and embarrassed, the king mockingly tossed a handful of rice towards Quỳnh and said:

'I thought you were a great scholar. Even you would eat discarded rice?'

'Your Majesty,' Quỳnh replied without hesitation, 'you may consider it discarded, but to the common folk, rice is precious.' As he spoke, Quỳnh respectfully ate the rice, chewing loudly. Realizing his mistake, the king turned red with embarrassment. With no evidence to condemn Quỳnh, the king ordered the headman to be whipped thirty lashes for his false report.

Quỳnh, having been freed, smiled calmly. Before leaving, he added with a clever remark, 'I ask Your Majesty to pardon the headman, and I thank him and the soldiers for their service.'

It is said that when Quỳnh was a young boy, around seven or eight years old, he showed great intelligence but was also quite mischievous. At that time, the children would often play games with banana stalks as flags and lotus leaves as umbrellas, and Quỳnh was always the one who took charge.

One autumn night, with a full moon lighting up the sky, Quỳnh was playing with the other children in the yard. He suddenly declared:

'You all carry me in a palanquin, and I'll take you to see a person with a head as big as a basket.'

The other children, believing this to be true, eagerly formed a palanquin and carried Quỳnh around the yard, panting with exhaustion. Once they were done, they insisted that Quỳnh keep his promise. By now, the moon had dimmed a little, and Quỳnh said:

'Wait here, I'll go light a fire so you can see.'

Some of the younger children were afraid and didn’t stay, but the older, braver ones waited. Quỳnh quickly lit a lantern, then held the light just out of view, saying:

'Look on the wall, there it is! The man with the huge head is here!'

The children, seeing only Quỳnh’s shadow on the wall, were tricked into thinking it was a giant head as large as a basket. Realizing they had been fooled, they demanded that Quỳnh carry them in return. Quỳnh, now laughing, ran into his room and slammed the door, calling out loudly. Thinking the children were fighting, his father grabbed a stick and rushed out, causing the children to scatter in all directions.

Once upon a time, there was a poor farming couple who had been praying to the gods for a child. After many years, the wife finally became pregnant, but when the baby was born, it wasn't a human child—it was a frog.

The frog grew up and could speak like a person, but its appearance was rough and unattractive, which saddened the parents. They would often lament, saying, 'We’re old, and we thought we’d finally have a child to care for us in our old age. Instead, we get a frog. What hope do we have now?'

Upon hearing this, the frog comforted its parents, promising them not to worry. The next day, it went to watch over the family’s fields, and from that day onward, no one dared to steal the crops anymore.

One day, a group of young scholars passed by the frog’s field and accidentally trampled on the crops. Suddenly, they heard a voice, soft and feminine, saying, 'Please be careful, you’re damaging my crops.' The scholars looked around but only saw the frog sitting in the field. The sweet voice made one of them feel strangely attracted to it. This scholar, who believed in magic and the mystical, went home and told his parents that he wanted to marry the frog.

At first, the scholar’s parents thought he had gone mad, but he insisted that he would marry no one else. His father, trying to dissuade him, asked if the frog could have children. The scholar, however, believed that magic would transform the frog into a beautiful woman, and so, despite his father’s objections, the parents reluctantly agreed to go ask the frog for her hand in marriage.

On the wedding day, the groom brought gifts and jewelry, hoping that the gods would transform the frog into a beautiful woman. The couple, along with both families, hoped for a miracle. But when the bride arrived, everyone was shocked and somewhat embarrassed to be welcoming a frog as the bride.

After the wedding, the groom’s parents, disappointed and ashamed, gave the newlyweds a piece of land to live on separately. The scholar, though saddened, studied hard in the hopes of finding a solution, especially to give his parents the grandchildren they longed for. Meanwhile, the frog wife worked diligently at home, keeping everything neat and cooking delicious meals for her husband.

Every time the scholar returned from his studies, he found the house clean and the meals ready, and he began to wonder, 'If my wife is truly just a frog, how could she take care of everything so well?' He tried sneaking back home unexpectedly, hoping to catch a glimpse of his wife in her true human form, but each time, he only found the frog. Still, the frog remained calm and gave no indication of changing.

One evening, the scholar told his wife that he had been offered a teaching position in a distant province and that he could not bring her with him unless she became human. Since their marriage, he had been ridiculed by neighbors and friends, and his parents urged him to marry again and have children. The frog, listening quietly, advised her husband not to worry and asked for permission to visit her parents the next day.

The next morning, the frog hopped along with her husband, but after a while, she jumped into a bush by the road. When the scholar stopped to look back, out of the bush stepped a beautiful woman, more stunning than anything he had ever dreamed of. Overcome with joy, he marveled at his wife’s transformation and begged her to remain in human form. As the scholar admired his wife, he secretly hid the frog’s skin in his clothes.

When they arrived at the scholar’s home, the parents were overjoyed to see the frog had transformed into a beautiful woman. The scholar, in his excitement, took the frog’s old skin and burned it in the kitchen. The two families celebrated for several days, and the newlyweds returned home happily.

On their journey back, the wife searched for her old frog skin in the bushes but found nothing. The scholar, confessing that he had burned it, explained that she must remain human from now on. The wife, understanding, accepted her new life as a human, and they lived happily ever after, with many children and great success for the scholar, who went on to achieve high honors and live a prosperous life.

Once upon a time, there was a merchant who, driven by greed, created a hollow balance scale filled with mercury, sealing both ends with copper. No one knew of this trick. When selling goods, he tilted the scale’s handle towards the hook, and when buying, he tilted it towards the base, allowing him to manipulate the weight to always gain an advantage.

Before long, the merchant became wealthy through deceitful practices.

The merchant and his wife had two bright, well-educated children, and everyone praised them for their good fortune. One day, the couple sat down and said, “We’ve gained great wealth, and our children are smart and successful. It’s time to destroy this deceitful scale and secure a better future for our children.”

They agreed to hold a ceremony, offering prayers to Buddha and honoring their ancestors, and then destroyed the scale. When they opened it, they found a lump of blood inside.

From that moment, the couple vowed to live a virtuous life, avoiding wrongdoing and focusing on kindness. But two months later, their first child suddenly died, and shortly after, the second child also passed away. The grieving parents wondered why their repentance had not been rewarded by Heaven.

One night, they both dreamed of a spirit who said, “You should not sit idle and blame Heaven. Heaven saw your previous deceit and sent two demons to destroy the ill-gotten wealth you accumulated over the years. Thankfully, you repented and corrected your ways. Heaven has now sent the demons away. Do not mourn your children, for Heaven will bless you with others to carry on your legacy.”

The couple, understanding now, stopped grieving and returned to their work, dedicating themselves to doing good deeds. Eventually, they were blessed with two more children, who grew up to be kind, educated, and brought their parents joy and honor in their old age.