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Ming had always had a strong sense of tradition. Since he was little, his family had instilled many of their cultural traditions into him. Being first-generation Chinese immigrants meant that they had truly experienced much of the culture that they taught to Ming. Ming, however, was born in America and did not grow up living the culture as his ancestors had. This made it difficult to keep with tradition. None of Ming’s friends understood the events or holidays he celebrated, and this only got worse as Ming got older and began to ingratiate himself in American culture.

Ming’s family had always warned him never to stray from the path of tradition. There were good reasons that they did the things that they did. As a boy, this warning seemed perfectly reasonable and served to make sure Ming always participated in the traditions he had been brought up to know. As he grew older and started to challenge them, they told him stories of people who were punished for not honoring their heritage. This again persuaded Ming to do as he was told. But Ming was now an adult who had moved out to live on his own.

Chinese New Year was coming up, and Ming was not feeling interested in participating at all. He had already been living in 2021 for over a month and saw no need to keep celebrating the change of the year for a country he did not live in. None of his friends celebrated the holiday, so he decided this year that he would not be celebrating it either. It was Thursday, February 11th, and Ming had nothing to do, so he popped on a movie. As he watched, the hour grew late. In just minutes, it would be the new Chinese year for Americans.

The moment the clock ticked over to midnight, all of the power in the house went out. The darkness was heavy, and Ming could not see anything. He fumbled around in the dark for the light switch, flipping it back and forth to confirm that the power was out. Before he could try to go make his way to the breaker box, a small blue flame began to emanate from the center of the room. It hovered unwavering as Ming stared at it, mesmerized by its eerie glow. Then, all at once, a masked spirit seemed to stretch its way out of the flame.

“Ming!” a voice boomed, seeming to come from the masked spirit. “You have dishonored your heritage! For this, you will be punished! I’ll see to it that you do not forget that this is the year of the ox!”

Before Ming could even utter a reply, the spirit and flame vanished, leaving the room in abject darkness once more. Something was not quite right, though. Ming could feel his body morphing. It was as if he had been turned to putty, and some unknown force was shaping him in the darkness. His hard edges were being smoothed over. His stiff flat frame gained new definition. All the while, Ming's clothes seemed to slip off his skin like butter before being replaced with what felt like ropes and fine silk. Then, slowly, as if being turned up gradually with a dial, the lights of Ming’s apartment came back on. As they did, the unknown force ceased its incessant modification.

The light illuminated Ming’s new frame. It was fully visible in the hallway mirror that Ming now stood before. Ming did not recognize the figure staring back. There was a woman, or at least mostly a woman, dressed in some traditional-looking Chinese garments. Large horns and cow ears protruded from her head, giving her a cow-like appearance. Or perhaps… an ox? Ming’s brain finally processed what had happened, and she gasped in horror, realizing that this would likely be her new body for the year to come. Ming’s parents were right all along. Honoring your heritage and practicing tradition is very important. This body would serve as a reminder of that and teach Ming a lesson she would never forget.