Okay, today I'm going to tell you about the raddest of ladies: Chach'ǒngbi, a Korean hero who became a goddess and left her mark in the general scorched remains of her awesomeness littering the landscape and all the people who could not handle her badassery as she went by. Chach'ǒngbi is a goddess of agriculture, but don't make the mistake of thinking of her as meek and docile as a result. Chach'ǒngbi could take you.
Like many other heroes of badass yore, Chach'ǒngbi's story starts before she was even born, when her parents were extremely rich and prosperous but didn't seem to be able to give birth to any children, much to their sorrow. By the time they were in their fifties and still childless, they were generally feeling pretty despondent over the whole situation; in fact, Chach'ǒngbi's father was so upset by seeing a beggar on the street with a happy child that he locked himself in his room for an epic sulk, until a monk arrived (as monks often do) to tell them that if they would get their piety on already, things could turn around for them.
So Chach'ǒngbi's parents rolled off to Sangju temple, where they offered a thousand pounds of white rice to the gods and prayed for one hundred straight days, because they were deadly serious about this needing children thing. Or, at least, that's what they thought they were doing, but at the end of the hundred days, the monks weighed the rice offering and declared that it was actually a little less than a thousand pounds, so as a result they wouldn't be able to have a son and would have to settle for a girl.
(As we will see later, this did not turn out to be a drawback in the slightest.)
The blessing of the temple did indeed work, and after a long pregnancy of ten months, Chach'ǒngbi's mother gave birth to a girl so beautiful that it was said she had the sun on her forehead, the moon on the back of her head, and stars on both of her shoulders. Because this was all sort of supernatural and questionable, they didn't name the girl until she turned three years old, at which point they called her Chach'ǒngbi, which means roughly "born because we wanted her". They went about teaching her the same general things you would teach a young Korean girl in the long-ago, and everything went about as normal until Chach'ǒngbi turned fifteen, and had started learning to weave at her loom.
The loom, apparently in defiance of the rules most looms abide by (or possibly just responding to being next to Chach'ǒngbi and all her nascent awesomeness), informed Chach'ǒngbi one day that she should go and wash herself in the pond of the Chuch'ǒn river, and while she was there, a young man by the name of Mun turned up and was understandably bowled over by Chach'ǒngbi's loveliness. He tried to hit on her via the tried-and-true method of asking her to get him some water, and during the course of his conversation bragged about how he was on his way to go study under the acclaimed Master Gǒmu, there to learn to be an ultimate badass. Chach'ǒngbi smiled and said she was very impressed and added that her own younger brother was also on his way to go study with the master, but had needed a traveling companion, and convinced Mun to hold on a few minutes so she could go get him.
(Spoiler: Chach'ǒngbi does not have a younger brother. Y'all can see where this is going.)
Chach'ǒngbi then went home, made the guy wait in the hall, and told her parents she wanted to go study. They reacted with dubiousness at first, but she reminded them that since they had no other children, they would have only her to take care of them in their old age, so really letting her have an education was only going to be helpful, and they were forced to conclude that this made perfect sense and sent her off. Of course, they thought she was going to a ladylike finishing school, but this is pretty much just evidence that they have no idea what they got into by giving birth to her in the first place.
So she took some of her father's clothes and dressed herself up as a man, collected up some books and brushes for maximum studiousness preparation, and then went to go introduce herself to Mun again, who was either not bright enough to recognize her or (more likely) simply in the presence of some extreme disguise badassery and unable to cope. And then she and Mun became school bros who spent the next two years reading and studying together, doing all their chores together, and sleeping in the same bed as penniless students were wont to do.
At this point, Mun started getting fresh with Chach'ǒngbi; although he clearly did not know she was actually a woman, that wasn't stopping him from making moves during the dark of the night (the translation I have literally says he "seemed to have noticed that she had a womanly body", but it's hard to tell if he actually suspects that she is a woman or whether this is just euphemistic language for Mun noticing that he was attracted to her). Annoyed by his attempts, she told him that she had learned a charm that if you slept with a washbowl with silver and brass chopsticks in it beside your bed, if the chopsticks fell off, you would become poor at schoolwork, while if they stayed in you would excel. Mun, being something of a booby, decided to try it but was constantly so worried it would fail that he wasn't able to get a good night's sleep, so he started both being too tired to try to molest her and started failing at his education, which made Chach'ǒngbi by default the best student by a mile.
At this point, Mun decided to get cranky about the situation, and confronted Chach'ǒngbi, claiming that maybe she was better in reading than he was, but he was better than her at everything else. Considering his track record thus far, it's not surprising that her response was, "Seriously, I'm not sure it's actually possible for me to be worse than you at anything." He did not find this comforting, and challenged her to a pissing contest. A real, actual pissing contest, in which the farthest pee-er is the winner. (Korean mythology is intensely fond of game challenges to settle who the top dog is, so this is only one of a long line of ridiculous contests that various heroes and gods get into.)
Mun went first, and pissed a prodigious six and a half feet, and then lingered around being smug about his impending victory (again, it's hard to tell if he might suspect that she doesn't have the physical equipment to compete, or if he's just that confident in his water-shooting abilities). But Chach'ǒngbi had been carrying a bamboo shoot around in her pants for JUST SUCH AN OCCASION, so she slotted it sneakily into place, and then pissed twelve and a half feet and Mun basically said, "Fine, I'll just go home and cry forever, then," during her victory dance.
But, in a last-ditch effort to pull off a gotcha, Mun then invited Chach'ǒngbi to bathe in the river with him, as they had been studying so hard for years that they had surely become very dirty (again, does he suspect? or is he just a weird dude?). Hilariously, even this didn't work; Chach'ǒngbi just used the water and stream movement to her advantage and enjoyed a full show of Mun being naked, while he wasn't able to see anything but her face and shoulders.
At this point, she took pity on him - well, sort of - and wrote him a love letter on a leaf, which read, "Hey, stupid, have we seriously been sleeping in the same bed for three years and you still haven't figured out that I'm the girl you met at the river, not a fictitious brother who looks exactly like her?" His mind was blown. And then she went home and told her dad that hey, I'm home, there's going to be a pissed-off dude here in about an hour so we may want to put in some extra dinner, and then went and spruced herself up back in her old feminine clothing and makeup. And clearly she knows exactly what she's up to, because her father says that the boy is welcome to stay with them, but if he's older than fifteen, he'll have to stay with him in his room rather than with her, and she says, "Oh, no, he is totally not fifteen yet." (This is a lie.)