In the West, greed has faces—Midas with his cursed gold, Saturn devouring his sons, the serpent who eats its own tail.
But in the East, it wears only one: Tao Tie, the hunger that consumes without end.
Long before the first dynasty rose, when gods still dined beside men, there was a spirit who knew no satisfaction. He fed upon the offerings of temples, the breath of the mountains, the marrow of beasts—and still, the void within him yawned wide and hollow.
They say he was once a guardian carved from bronze, forged to guard the emperor's feast. But when the emperor's greed grew too great, the guardian learned from his master. His mouth split wider than any creature's, his eyes vanished, for there was no longer a need to see—only to devour.
He ate the emperor first. Then the palace, its golden pillars, the court musicians, the marble lions at the gate. His hunger grew with every swallow, and the gods, fearing his appetite, struck him down and bound his spirit into the bronze vessels of ritual.
Even now, when offerings are burned, his face appears—eyes sealed, mouth wide open, forever frozen in the moment before the next bite.
Yet some say Tao Tie was not born of gluttony, but of emptiness. That he devoured because he feared what silence might bring. The hollow between his ribs was the same hollow within humankind—the yearning to possess, to fill, to become more than flesh allows.
Once, a young craftsman who shaped bronze for the royal tombs looked upon Tao Tie's image and whispered, "I know you." That night, he dreamt of the beast standing over him, its breath heavy with fire. "Then remember this," it said, "what you hunger for will one day hunger for you."
The craftsman woke screaming, but his hands still trembled with creation. He kept carving the creature's face, knowing that every act of art was also an act of appetite.
And so Tao Tie endures—on vessels, in stone, in the eyes of those who want too much. His mouth never closes, his feast never ends.
For the gods punished him not with death, but with eternity— to eat the world, and never be full.