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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of east asian short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

410+ East asian Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Discover the best new stories by East Asian authors.

East asian Short Stories – Page 21 of 28

The Prince’s Braid

Submitted to Contest #88

Her delicate fingers ran over my smooth black hair, carefully undoing the long braid. It was considered taboo for princes to be seen in public without the braid, and even more taboo for a commoner to touch a prince’s hair. But I was already breaking more than a few rules by being here. “Is something wrong?” Ayusha asked. I turned around to see her looking at me with concern. Her head was tilted down, and her short hair fell in front, obscuring the sides of her face from view. I smiled and leaned in, touching my forehead to hers. “Nothing...

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The Postmaster

Submitted to Contest #87

"The Postmaster might have left for his house, by now", she thought as she began walking towards the road. "Even he has his own children and he would like to spend some quality time with them too, I don't want to make him late." She increased the pace at which she walked in the gloomy wet afternoon. She walked past the cowsheds coming onto the path that connected the village to the main road. This path was full of mud which immediately molded into the footprints of the people who walked through it. The cold winds brushed against her cheeks a...

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Going at my Pace~ (Title inspired from Stray Kids: My Pace (I LOVE SKZ!))

Submitted to Contest #87

 He’s still sleeping, isn’t he? I hang up, then call him for the seventh time. Of course, he doesn’t, won’t answer. Okay, fine. Don’t answer, Hyun-Ki. Just you wait.  I shake my head. What a jerk.I quickly get dressed - and slam the door behind me. As always, all eyes are on me. Of course. I’m the star. The boss of the house. After all, they can’t help it. I wink, not specifically to anyone, but generally, to the dozens of eyes on me. I lick my lips. I’m just starting, baby. Besides, I can’t waste time with them now. I’m on my...

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The Spectacled Game

Submitted to Contest #87

I knew there was something wrong with my vision. My eyes hurt the moment I took a book for reading. Surprisingly, even the plain looking Urmila, our next door girl, looked stunning. I, therefore, decided to see an eye specialist and asked my elder brother where I could find an ophthalmologist. It was perhaps due to working twenty-four hours a day writing and rewriting a screenplay I was commissioned to write for a movie, thereby pushing my blood pressure up on most days, and minimum rest for my eyes at night. In the hectic schedule of my wo...

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Narrative

Submitted to Contest #87

“Who are you?” Kominato asked, eyes narrowed, his face stern, a bitter tone laid over his words. The young woman before him simply sat back, smiling amused, her expression telling of something mischievous in her intent, a spark of something in her eyes. She smirked, the smirk then turning to a grin. The hell’s with her? For the first time, she broke their eye contact, at once averting her gaze to the trees or the edge of the park, where the city arose beyond the fringe of green. The constant eye contact disconcerted him, making him deeply un...

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The Gumamelas at the Maharlika Orphanage

Submitted to Contest #86

Every morning, at exactly five am, when the gardener wakes up, he looks out his window and takes a quick peek at the garden in the playground. Once he’s sure that no stray cat or dog may have sneaked in during the night; or if the the last night’s storm hasn’t ruined any of the flowers, then he will smile and have breakfast. On the odd days that the pots or flower petals lay scattered on the ground however, he will immediately get dress-put on his old red overalls, black boots and his gray cap, and will immediately go out to fix the garden b...

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What Spring Looks Like

Submitted to Contest #86

"Did you know that in other countries, they've got four seasons?" Bryle turned to look at his little 5 year-old sister, Bell. The two siblings were sitting at their front porch as rain pours down unrelenting before them. It had been raining since the morning, and because of that, school was canceled. Apparently, there was a typhoon coming, so the children needed to stay home.  There wasn't many things that Bryle can do sitting at home, maybe watch TV or play video games, but he was getting bored of that. He actually missed school....

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The Spring Power

Submitted to Contest #86

I smile when I look around me. The place is filled with bright flowers and children running around. They are enjoying themselves, as they should. They just finished their exams. I look over at my 5-year-old cousin, who’s trying to play with 12-year-olds. She’s copying everything they are doing, which makes me giggle. The place is decorated with lanterns. It feels good to be back in China. It’s a new year, finally. I’ve been waiting for this terrible year to get over. “Jenny!” Someone calls as I turn around. “Jennifer Wang, where have you bee...

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Spring Petals

Submitted to Contest #86

    Psshhh… Kiriko boarded the bus. A winter breeze brushed past her when she stepped on— she shivered: cold. She took a seat near the middle, sitting herself by the window, seeing her reflection on the cold glass; its image pale, faded. For some reason, she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness in her eyes, in her lashes, reflected on the pane. She sighed, closing them—seeing the glass mist up, like a mirror—then opened them up again. Her reflection: it reminded her of her younger self.   She was in her sophomore year bac...

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Crown For a White Rose

Submitted to Contest #86

The King of the Dead rose from his stone coffin with the tattered tangles of his once-royal robes hanging from his limbs. Bandages to cover up the damage of his ruined skin. He pushed his matted hair from his face, his crown nowhere in sight. He walked on the snow-covered cave floor, ice crunching under his bare feet. He inhaled. Breath whistled into his cold lungs. The air was spiced with a faint flowery scent. An insignificant sting punctured his chest. Wind snaked through the tears in his clothing. Humming faintly, he pinched the jagg...

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Small act of Love

Submitted to Contest #86

Orange rays of setting Sun travelling through the branches of the trees touched me through the window, but could lighten nothing inside me. That place beside the window is where I sit for hours, in company of a mild but persistent headache and never passing body pain. It is vividly visible that nature follows a routine, a cycle, a pattern that transforms the world around and that’s how life keeps going. But what happened seven months ago has frozen the nature inside me, and left me only with the pain in my heart and body both. I always grie...

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Petals

Submitted to Contest #86

The jianghu* is big, and there is plenty to see. Two souls seated in a passing cart whose canopies touch as the horses trot by, smile with a song known since time began, yet others grow white on their heads, with no melody shared within. What use is there in many years shared in pointless chatter when a single moment of silence can contain multitudes? We promised to make every moment count, and I think that we have.Fei Hong sits by the riverside, not caring that the hem of his emerald robes are getting soiled with not just the water but also...

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Benny

Submitted to Contest #85

*Warning: This story contains violence based on the true story of the countless victims of the “War on Drugs” regime in the Philippines. https://time.com/philippines-rodrigo-duterte-drug-war-local-photographers/ ---That’s the thing about this city, it never changes. Empty lots turn into subdivisions, old buildings get torn down to put up even bigger ones, and the exuberant little kids playing in the streets suddenly become grandparents stuffing their grandchildren with endless supplies of Choc Nut candy. But the chaotic ignorance that dwells...

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Neroli

Submitted to Contest #86

The Queen of the Arab world did not know how to sire a son and so, the women of the harem tried to help. A woman was summoned to teach her how to fish for a son, in the middle of the desert, in a castle built of mud, clay, silt and desire. The King, a caliphate married her out of season. A Queen from the isle of the blue Grecian sea. She was considered neither beautiful nor had the wits to seduce her husband. And yet she had one thing about her, the knowledge she was to be killed and replaced if she were unable to bring on a son. For that sh...

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Culture Shift

Submitted to Contest #85

Harry looked out his bedroom window to watch the sunrise. However, the sunrise was being significantly blocked by the Bangkok skyline. Harry let out an exasperated sigh and turned his gaze down to the street three stories below his apartment. Down below, the streets were busy even though they were tucked away several blocks from any of the main highways. Everyday, Harry could spot numerous motorbikes, street vendors with carts selling various food and coffee, and students walking by with backpacks in tow. The sights seen here tended to be qu...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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