Emperor and goldsmith : The precious words

Once upon a time, an emperor called his goldsmith and said, “Make me a gold ring, and engrave on it a line that will be useful to me at all times—whether in happiness or sorrow, success or failure.”

The goldsmith was troubled. What kind of line could be helpful in both joy and grief, in victory and defeat? He searched his heart and mind but found no answer. His face became dull with worry.

A Saint happened to pass by and noticed the goldsmith’s distress.

The goldsmith shared the emperor’s request.

The saint smiled gently and whispered a line into the goldsmith’s ear.

The goldsmith paused—then smiled with wonder. He bowed in gratitude and immediately began working on the ring.

A few weeks later, a storm of fate struck. The emperor was defeated in a major battle. His kingdom was overtaken, and he had to flee. He found shelter in a cave high in the hills, alone and stripped of everything he once commanded.

Enemy soldiers passed nearby. The emperor hid silently in the shadows. His heart pounded. His hands trembled. Fear gripped him. It felt like the end. His body was cold, his mind restless.

In that moment, his eyes fell upon the ring on his finger. He lifted it, peered closely, and read the inscription.

As he read the line, a stillness came over him His heart, moments ago wild, began to slow. His thoughts, which had been spinning in panic, gently began to settle. A calmness entered him—not loud or dramatic, but deep and soothing. He leaned back against the cave wall with a strange peace rising in his chest.

Three Days later, his loyal soldiers returned. Together they fought again—and this time, the emperor reclaimed his throne.

Celebrations echoed across the kingdom. Banners flew, drums beat in triumph. The emperor stood tall, draped in royal robes once again. People bowed, shouted his name, and praised his victory.

Victory tasted sweet. But slowly, pride began to take root. His chest swelled. His steps grew heavier with ego. Then, once again, his gaze fell upon the golden ring. He lifted it and read the same line again.

The fire of pride softened. Humility returned to his heart. His smile grew softer. His eyes clearer.

And now, dear reader, If you’re wondering what those precious words were— The same words that brought him peace in fear and humility in pride— Let us finally reveal them to you:

“This too shall pass.”