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Title:警世通言

Author: Menglong Feng

Release date: January 3, 2008 [eBook #24141]

Language: Chinese

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/24141

Credits: Produced by Ya Zhu Yang

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK警世通言***

Produced by Ya Zhu Yang

Volume One: Yu Boya Breaks His Zither to Thank His True Friend

Rumors say wealth was once shared between Guan Zhong and Bao Shuya—yet who can truly appreciate Yu Boya’s zither? Nowadays, friendships are as deceitful as ghosts; my heart remains suspended in vain.

Throughout history, the deepest bonds of friendship have been those between Guan Zhong and Bao Shuya. Guan was Guan Yiwu, and Bao was Bao Shuya. Both were merchants who divided their profits equally. Often, Guan Yiwu took the larger share, but Bao Shuya saw no greed in him, knowing he was poor. Later, when Guan Yiwu was imprisoned, Bao Shuya freed him and recommended him as prime minister of Qi. Such friends truly understand each other. There are several types of such understanding: those bound by kindness are called “true friends”; those who see each other’s hearts are called “confidants”; those who resonate spiritually are called “true musical companions.” All are forms of true understanding. Today, I will tell you a story about Yu Boya. Those who wish to listen, please pay attention; those who don’t, may do as they please. As the saying goes: “This is for true friends to hear; it’s not meant for those who aren’t.”

Yu Boya

During the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, there was a man named Rui, styled Boya, from Yingdu in the State of Chu—what is now Jingzhou Prefecture in Huguang. Though he was from Chu, his career prospects lay in the State of Jin, where he rose to the rank of high official. He was sent by the ruler of Jin to Chu on a diplomatic mission. Boya accepted this task because, first, he was a talented man who would not fail his sovereign; second, it gave him an opportunity to visit his hometown, killing two birds with one stone. At that time, the road to Yingdu was available, so he went there to meet the King of Chu and deliver the message from the ruler of Jin. The King of Chu hosted a grand banquet in his honor. Since Yingdu was his hometown, he naturally wanted to visit his graves and reunite with relatives and friends. Yet, duty called, and he could not stay long. After completing his duties, he bid farewell to the King of Chu, who gifted him gold, silk, fine carriages, and horses.

After leaving Chu for twelve years, Boya longed to see the beauty of his homeland and decided to return by water. He pretended to ask the King of Chu, “I am unfortunately ill, unable to endure the hardships of travel by land. Please allow me to use boats for medical treatment.” The King agreed and ordered the navy to provide two large ships—one main and one auxiliary. The main ship was for the envoy from Jin, while the auxiliary carried his servants and luggage. Both ships were equipped with elegant oars, colorful sails, and fine decorations. The officials saw him off to the riverbank. Eager to explore the beautiful scenery, Boya ignored the distance. As a talented and romantic man, he was deeply moved by the natural beauty. With his sail set, he sailed through layers of green waves, admiring the endless green mountains and clear waters. In just one day, he reached the mouth of the Hanyang River. It happened to be the Mid-Autumn Festival on the 15th day of the eighth month. Suddenly, there was a fierce wind, rough waves, and heavy rain. The boats couldn’t move forward and had to anchor beneath a cliff. Soon, the wind calmed, the waves settled, the rain stopped, and the clouds cleared, revealing a bright moon. The moon after the rain shone even brighter than usual. Inside the boat, Boya was alone...

Bored while sitting, he ordered the boy to light incense in the burner. “Wait while I play the zither to soothe my emotions.” The boy lit the incense and placed the zither case on the table. Boya opened the case, took out the zither, tuned it, and began to play a piece. Before the piece was over, there was a sharp “scraping” sound, and one of the strings broke.

Boya was shocked. He told the boy to go ask the boatman, “Where exactly is this place we’re at?” The boatman replied, “We stopped at the foot of the mountain due to the wind and rain. There are some grasses and trees, but no people live here.” Boya was surprised and thought, “It must be a desolate mountain. If it were a town or village, there might be someone intelligent and eager to learn who would eavesdrop on my music, which is why the sound suddenly changed and a string broke. Who could possibly be listening to the music here at the foot of this desolate mountain? Oh, I understand! It must be an assassin sent by my enemies. Otherwise, it could be thieves waiting in the darkness to steal my belongings.” He ordered his attendants, “Let’s climb up the cliff and search. If it’s not hidden among the willows, it must be in the reeds!”

The attendants obeyed, gathered everyone, and were about to climb up the cliff. Suddenly, they heard someone on the shore responding, “Sir on the boat, there’s no need for suspicion. I’m not a thief or criminal; I’m just a woodcutter. I was returning from cutting wood when it got late, and with the fierce wind and rain, my rain gear couldn’t protect me, so I hid by the rocks. Hearing your exquisite playing, I stayed to listen for a while.”

Boya laughed heartily. “A woodcutter in the mountains dares to use the word ‘listening to music’! I don’t know if what he says is true or not, but I won’t bother with it. Attendants, let him go.” But the man didn’t leave. He shouted from the cliff, “Sir, you’re wrong! Haven’t you heard, ‘In even the smallest village, there must be loyal and trustworthy people.’ ‘If there’s a gentleman inside the door, gentlemen will come even outside.’ If you think there’s no one in the mountains who can listen to music, then at this quiet night, there shouldn’t be anyone playing the zither at the foot of this desolate cliff either.”

Seeing that the man spoke wisely, Boya thought it might indeed be someone who could appreciate music. He stopped his attendants and, with a mix of anger and joy, asked through the cabin door, “Sir up on the cliff, since you’re listening to music and have been standing there for so long, do you know what piece I played just now?” The man replied, “If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t have come to listen to music. What you played just now was a composition by Confucius expressing his sorrow over Yan Hui, set to music. The lyrics go: ‘It’s a pity Yan Hui died so young, making people think of their hair turning gray. Yet he found joy in a humble life with a simple bowl and ladle’—that’s when the string broke, and you couldn’t finish the fourth line. I still remember the last part: ‘His virtuous name will be celebrated forever.’”

Hearing this, Boya was overjoyed. “You truly are no ordinary person. It’s difficult to converse across the cliff.” He ordered his attendants, “Help him climb aboard and invite that sir to come on board and explain further.” The attendants helped him onto the boat, and indeed he was a woodcutter. He wore a bamboo hat, a coir raincoat, carried a pole, had an axe at his waist, and wore straw sandals. His attendants, not knowing the quality of his words, looked down on him upon seeing him as a woodcutter and said, “Tch! That woodcutter…”

He went below deck and saw his master kowtowing. He asked what to say and warned him to answer carefully, for the official was present! The woodcutter was quite interesting; he said, “Gentlemen, there’s no need to be rude. Let me take off my clothes before we meet.” Apart from his conical hat, he wore a blue cloth headband. After taking off his raincoat, he was dressed in a blue cloth shirt, with a cloth loincloth visible beneath. Calmly, he placed his raincoat, conical hat, carrying pole, and axe outside the cabin door. He took off his straw sandals to avoid getting them muddy, put them back on, and entered the cabin.

Inside the official’s cabin, the lamps shone brightly. The woodcutter bowed deeply but did not kneel, saying, “Your Excellency, please refrain from formalities.” Yu Boya was a high-ranking official in the State of Jin; he couldn’t possibly treat such a commoner with courtesy. He bowed back out of respect for his status, but since he had invited the man aboard, it wouldn’t be proper to order him to leave. With no other choice, Boya gently raised his hand and said, “My good friend, no need for formalities.” He then told a servant to prepare a seat. The servant brought a stool and placed it at the lower end of the table. Boya, showing no signs of hospitality, simply pointed at the woodcutter and said, “Sit down.” Using “you” instead of “you sir” showed clear disrespect. Yet the woodcutter didn’t show any modesty either and sat down right away.

Seeing him sit without permission, Boya felt slightly annoyed, so he didn’t ask for his name nor send a servant to bring tea. After sitting in silence for a while, he wondered and asked, “Were you the one who listened to the zither music on the cliff just now?” The woodcutter replied, “I dare not claim that.” Boya said, “Let me ask you. Since you came to listen to the zither, you must know where it comes from. Who made this zither? What are the benefits of playing it?” Just as he was asking, someone from the bow reported, “The wind is favorable, and the moon is bright as day—we can set sail now.” Boya instructed them to wait a moment. The woodcutter said, “Since Your Excellency has asked, if I speak too much, it might hinder us from sailing with the wind.” Boya laughed and said, “I’m only worried you don’t understand the principles of the zither. If what you say makes sense, I won’t keep being an official—it’s not a big deal. What’s more important than the speed of our journey?”

The woodcutter replied, “If that’s the case, I’ll dare to speak freely. This zither was carved by Fuxi. He saw the essence of the five stars falling onto a wutong tree, and the phoenix came as a sign. The phoenix is the king of birds; it eats nothing but bamboo, nests only on wutong trees, and drinks only from sweet springs. Fuxi realized that the wutong tree was an excellent material, containing the essence of nature, suitable for creating elegant music, so he ordered it to be cut down. The tree was three zhang and three chi tall. According to the number of thirty-three heavens, it was divided into three sections, representing heaven, earth, and humanity. When the upper section was struck, the sound was too pure, so it was discarded. When the lower section was struck, the sound was too dull, so it was also discarded. Only the middle section, when struck, produced a sound that combined purity and dullness, as well as lightness and heaviness. It was then placed in flowing water for seventy-two days, corresponding to the seventy-two solar terms. Yin and Yang were considered, and on an auspicious day, the skilled craftsman Liu Ziqi carved it into a musical instrument. This is the music of the Jade Pool, hence it’s called the Jade Zither.”

“It is three feet, six inches, and one fen long, corresponding to 361 degrees of the celestial circle; eight inches wide at the front, corresponding to the eight seasonal divisions; four inches wide at the back, corresponding to the four seasons; two inches thick, corresponding to the two fundamental principles. It has the head of a golden boy, the waist of a jade maiden, and the back of an immortal. There are a dragon pond, a phoenix marsh, jade pendants, and gold ornaments. There are twelve such ornaments, corresponding to the twelve months; there is also a central ornament, corresponding to the intercalary month. Initially, there were five strings on top, corresponding externally to the five elements—metal, wood, water, fire, earth; internally, corresponding to the five musical tones—gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu. During the times of Yao and Shun, people played the five-stringed zither and sang the poem ‘South Wind,’ bringing great harmony to the world. Later, when King Wen of Zhou was imprisoned in Youli, mourning his son Bo Yi Kao, one more string was added, creating a sound that was serene and mournful, known as the ‘Wen string.’ When King Wu went to war against Zhou, singing first and dancing later, another string was added, producing a more intense and vigorous sound, known as the ‘Wu string.’ Initially there were five strings—gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu—then two more were added, resulting in the seven-stringed zither known as the ‘Wenwu zither.’

“This zither has six taboos, seven situations in which it should not be played, and eight things that render it unusable. What are the six taboos? First, extreme cold; second, extreme heat; third, strong winds; fourth, heavy rain; fifth, thunder; sixth, heavy snow. What are the seven situations in which it should not be played? It should not be played when hearing of a death, during music performances, when busy with other matters, when not clean, when one’s clothes are not in order, without burning incense, and when no kindred spirit is present. What are the eight things that render it unusable? In short, it requires something pure, exquisite, serene, elegant, solemn, and profound. When this zither is played to its fullest potential, even tigers cease to roar upon hearing it, and sorrowful monkeys stop crying. Such is the excellence of refined music.”

Bo Ya, hearing his fluent responses, feared it might be mere rote memorization. He thought, “Even if it is rote memorization, he still deserves praise. I’ll test him further.” By now, they no longer used the formal ‘you’ and ‘I’ address. He asked, “Since you understand music theory, when Confucius was playing the zither in his room, Yan Hui entered from outside. Hearing a deep and solemn sound from the zither, he suspected there was an intent of greed or killing, and asked Confucius about it. Confucius replied, ‘I was just playing the zither, watching a cat catching a mouse. I wished it to succeed, yet feared it might fail. This intent of greed and killing thus manifested itself through the strings.’ Only then did I realize how subtle the principles of music in the teachings of the sages are. If I play the zither while having certain thoughts in mind, can you detect them?” The woodcutter replied, “The Book of Songs says, ‘If others have thoughts, I can infer them.’ Please play it once, and I’ll try to guess. If I can’t figure it out, please don’t hold it against me.”

Bo Ya adjusted the broken strings and pondered for a while. His intention was to depict high mountains, so he played the zither. The woodcutter praised, “How wonderful! Your intention is indeed that of high mountains!” Bo Ya did not respond. After concentrating again, he played the zither, this time intending to depict flowing water. The woodcutter praised once more, “How splendid! Your intent is that of flowing water!” With just two sentences, he understood Bo Ya’s thoughts. Bo Ya was astonished, put down the zither, and bowed to the woodcutter as a guest would to his host. He exclaimed repeatedly, “My apologies! My apologies! There is fine jade hidden within stones. If we judge people by their appearance, wouldn’t that misjudge all the worthy scholars in the world? What is your noble surname?” The woodcutter bowed deeply and replied, “This humble man’s surname is Zhong, and my name is…”

“Zhong Hui, a humble man named Ziqi.” Boya clasped his hands and said, “It is Master Zhong Ziqi.” Ziqi then asked, “What is your surname, sir? And where are you from?” Boya replied, “I am Rui, a servant of the Jin dynasty. I have come here on a diplomatic mission.” Ziqi said, “So it is you, Master Boya.” Boya invited Ziqi to sit in the guest seat while he took his own place at the head, ordering a boy to prepare tea. After the tea was served, he ordered more wine for them to drink together. Boya said, “Let us use this opportunity to converse; please do not mind if our talk is simple.” Ziqi replied, “I dare not.”

The boy brought over the jade zither, and the two sat down to drink. Boya began to speak again, asking, “Sir, your accent suggests you are from Chu. But where do you reside?” Ziqi said, “It’s not far from here. The place is called Jixian Village in Ma’an Mountain—it’s just a humble dwelling.” Boya nodded and said, “What a lovely Jixian Village.” He then asked, “What is your occupation?” Ziqi replied, “I make a living by chopping wood.” Boya smiled and said, “Master Ziqi, I shouldn’t speak presumptuously. With such great aspirations as yours, why not strive for fame and status, serve in high offices, and leave your name in history? Instead, you choose a life of simplicity among the mountains and forests, living like a common woodcutter—why? I truly think it’s a pity.” Ziqi said, “To be honest, I have elderly parents living with me, and no siblings to assist me. I chop wood to support them until they pass away. Even if I could hold a position as one of the highest officials, I couldn’t bear to give up this way of supporting them.” Boya said, “Such filial piety is truly rare.”

The two drank together for a while. Ziqi remained calm regardless of honor or disgrace, which made Boya respect him even more. Boya then asked, “How old are you?” Ziqi replied, “I’ve wasted twenty-seven years of my life.” Boya said, “I’m ten years older than you. If you don’t mind, let’s become brothers, fulfilling our bond as true friends.” Ziqi laughed and said, “My lord, you’re mistaken! You are a renowned official of a great state, while I am but a poor and humble man. How dare I aspire to be on equal terms with you? It would be an insult to you.” Boya said, “In this world, how many people can we truly trust? I, a mere ordinary person, am extremely fortunate to have formed such a bond with a noble and wise man like you. If you reject each other because of wealth or status, then what kind of person do you think I am?” He then ordered the boy to stoke the fire and light incense, and inside the boat, he bowed to Ziqi eight times. Boya, being older, became the elder brother, and Ziqi the younger brother. From now on, they would call each other brothers and stay loyal through life and death. After the bowing, they ordered more warm wine to drink. Ziqi invited Boya to sit first, and Boya agreed. After changing cups and utensils, Ziqi left his seat, and the two brothers talked heart to heart. Truly, when guests come who share our interests, our hearts never grow weary; when true friends listen, our words seem even more meaningful.

As they talked animatedly, before they knew it, the moon grew dim, the stars faded, and dawn appeared in the east. The sailors on the boat got up to pack up the sails and get ready to set sail. Ziqi stood up to say goodbye. Boya handed him a cup of wine, took Ziqi’s hand, and sighed, “Dear brother, why did we meet so late, and part so soon!” Hearing this, tears welled up in Ziqi’s eyes and dropped into the cup. Ziqi drank it all in one gulp, then poured wine back for Boya. Both were filled with reluctance to part.

Boya said, “My dear brother, I still have lingering feelings and would like to invite you to accompany me for a few days. I wonder if that’s possible?” Ziqi replied, “It’s not that I don’t wish to go with you. But my parents are old; as the saying goes, ‘As long as one’s parents are alive, one should not travel far.’” Boya said, “Since your parents are here, go back and inform them, then come to Jinyang to see me. That would be what it means to ‘travel with purpose.’” Ziqi said, “I dare not make a hasty promise and fail to keep it. If I agree to your request but my parents refuse, leaving you waiting thousands of miles away, my fault would be even greater.” Boya said, “You truly are a man of utmost sincerity. Very well, I’ll come to see you next year.” Ziqi asked, “When will you arrive here next year? I’ll be ready to serve you.”

Boya counted on his fingers and said, “Last night was the Mid-Autumn Festival. It’s dawn now, so it’s the 16th day of the eighth month. My dear brother, I’ll come to visit around the fifth or sixth day of mid-autumn. If I delay until later in autumn, it would show a lack of faithfulness, which is not befitting a gentleman.” He ordered his servant, “Have the scribe write down the location where Brother Zhong lives and the date of our meeting in the diary.” Ziqi said, “If that’s the case, I’ll definitely be waiting by the riverbank around the fifth or sixth day of next year’s mid-autumn. I won’t fail to keep my word. It’s already daylight; I must take my leave.” Boya said, “Wait a moment.” He ordered his servant to bring two pieces of gold, without any envelope, and handed them to Ziqi, saying, “This is a small gift, meant to cover the expenses for your parents’ meals. As fellow scholars, please don’t consider it insignificant.” Ziqi didn’t dare decline and accepted it immediately. After bowing goodbye again, he left with tears, carrying his raincoat and conical hat on a pole, with an axe at his waist, and climbed up the cliff. Boya accompanied him to the ship’s bow, and they parted with tears.

As for Ziqi, we won’t mention his return home. Back to Boya, who set sail after beating the drums. He paid no attention to the beautiful scenery along the way, his mind fixed solely on his bosom friend. After several more days, he disembarked from the boat. In the places he passed through, knowing that they were officials of the State of Jin, he didn’t dare to be rude and arranged for carriages and horses to see him off. When he arrived in Jinyang, he reported back to the ruler of Jin, and nothing further needs to be said.

Time passed swiftly. After autumn and winter, spring came and then summer. Boya kept thinking of Ziqi and couldn’t forget his hometown for a single day. Knowing that the Mid-Autumn Festival was approaching, he requested leave from the ruler of Jin, who granted it. Boya packed his belongings and once again took a long journey by water. After disembarking, he instructed the sailors to report the names of any harbors they encountered. By chance, on the night of the 15th of the eighth month, the sailors reported that Ma’an Mountain wasn’t far away. Boya vaguely recognized the place where he had moored the boat and met Ziqi last year. He ordered the sailors to anchor the boat and drive stakes into the cliffside.

That night was clear and bright; a sliver of moonlight streamed into the cabin through the red curtains. Boya ordered the boy to roll back the curtains, stepped out of the cabin, and stood at the bow of the boat, looking up at the Big Dipper. The sky above the water was vast and open, illuminated as if it were day. He thought of meeting his bosom friend last year under a stopping rain and bright moon. Now, another fine night had arrived. They had agreed to meet by the river, but there was not a trace of him—had he broken his promise? After waiting for a while longer, he thought, “I understand now. There are many boats coming and going by the river. The boat I’m on now isn’t the one from last year. How could my brother recognize it in such a hurry? Last year, it was playing the zither that attracted my bosom friend; tonight, I’ll play a tune on the same instrument. Once he hears it, he must come to see me.” He ordered the boy to bring the zither stand and place it at the bow of the boat, then lit incense and prepared a seat. Boya opened his bag, tuned the strings, and began to play. From the strings came a mournful sound. Boya stopped playing and said, “Ah! The mournful tone from the strings indicates that my brother must be suffering at home. Last year he mentioned that his parents were old. If it wasn’t his father who passed away, it must be his mother. He is extremely filial; when faced with choices between duty and loyalty, he would rather break his promise to me than show disrespect to his parents, which is why he hasn’t come. When dawn breaks tomorrow, I’ll go up the cliff in person to check on him.” He told the boy to pack up the zither stand and return to the cabin to sleep.

Boya stayed awake all night, waiting anxiously for dawn. As the moon shifted and the shadows on the curtains changed, the sun rose over the mountains. Boya got up, washed up, and dressed neatly. He ordered the boy to carry the zither along and also took ten taels of gold with him. “If my brother is in mourning, this might serve as a gift.” He climbed up the cliff and followed a path used by woodcutters. After about ten miles, they reached the exit of a valley. Boya stopped. The boy asked, “Sir, why don’t we continue?” Boya replied, “The mountain is divided into north and south, and the paths lead east and west. After leaving the valley, there are two main roads leading in opposite directions. Do you know which road leads to Jixian Village? We need someone who knows the area to ask and find out before we can proceed.”

Boya rested briefly on a rock while the boy stood behind him. Before long, an old man appeared on the road to the left. His beard hung like threads of jade, his hair was tied back with silver strands. Wearing a bamboo hat and simple clothes, he carried a rattan staff in his left hand and a bamboo basket in his right, walking slowly toward them. Boya stood up, adjusted his clothes, and bowed forward. The old man calmly set down his bamboo basket, raised his rattan staff in return, and said, “What can I do for you, sir?” Boya asked, “Excuse me, which of these two roads leads to Jixian Village?” The old man replied, “Those two roads lead to two different Jixian Villages. The one on the left is Upper Jixian Village, and the one on the right is Lower Jixian Village. It’s a thirty-mile-long official road. You’ve just come out of the valley, right in the middle. It’s fifteen miles east and fifteen miles west. Which Jixian Village are you looking for, sir?”

Boya remained silent, thinking to himself, “My brother is smart—how could he speak so vaguely! On the day we were supposed to meet, if he knew there were two Jixian Villages, one upper and one lower, he should have made it clear.” Just as Boya was pondering, the old man said, “Since you’re pondering like this, it must be that the person who should have shown you the way…”

“It was once divided into upper and lower parts, but it was all referred to as Jixian Village, leaving the master with no clue where to look.” Boya said, “Exactly.”
The old man said, “Among those two Jixian Villages, there are a dozen or so farmhouses, mostly inhabited by people who live in seclusion from the world. I have lived in these mountains for many years; indeed, ‘After thirty years in a humble dwelling, one will surely become close to someone.’ These farmers are either relatives or close friends of mine. When you go to Jixian Village, you must be visiting a friend. Just tell me the name of the friend you’re visiting, and I’ll know where he lives.” Boya said, “I intend to go to Zhongjia Village.”
Upon hearing the name “Zhongjia Village,” tears streamed down the old man’s dim eyes. He said, “Master, you can go to other places, but if it’s Zhongjia Village, there’s no need to go.” Boya asked in surprise, “Why not?” The old man asked, “Who are you going to visit at Zhongjia Village?” Boya replied, “I’m going to visit Ziqi.” Hearing this, the old man burst into tears and cried out, “Ziqi, Zhong Hui, was my son. Last August 15th, he returned late from gathering firewood and met Master Boya, a high-ranking official from the State of Jin. They struck up a deep friendship during their conversation. Before parting, Master Boya gave him two pieces of gold to help him buy books and study. I, being unskilled, didn’t stop him. By day he carried heavy loads of firewood, and by night he studied hard. His energy was exhausted, and he fell ill with a weak constitution. Within a few months, he passed away.”

Hearing this, Boya was heartbroken. Tears flowed like a fountain. With a loud cry, he collapsed against the cliff and lost consciousness. Lord Zhong helped him up and turned to the young boy, asking, “Who is this master?” The boy whispered in his ear, “It’s Master Boya.” Lord Zhong said, “So he’s my son’s good friend.” He helped Boya regain consciousness. Boya sat on the ground, spitting saliva, pounding his chest, and crying bitterly. He said, “My dear brother! Last night, when I moored my boat, I still thought of your honesty. Who would have thought you had already become a spirit beneath the earth! You had talent but no long life!” Lord Zhong wiped his tears and tried to comfort him.

After crying, Boya got up and bowed again to Lord Zhong. He didn’t dare call him “old man” but instead referred to him as “uncle” to show their brotherly relationship. Boya asked, “Uncle, should your son’s coffin remain at home or be buried outside the city?” Lord Zhong replied, “It’s hard to put into words! On my son’s deathbed, my wife and I sat in front of his bed. He left us instructions, saying, ‘Life and death are determined by heaven. Since I couldn’t fulfill my duties as a son while alive, please bury me by the river at Ma’an Mountain. I made a promise with Master Boya from the State of Jin, and I want to keep that promise.’ I haven’t failed my son’s last wish. Right along the path you came along just now, there’s a small mound of earth—that’s my son Zhong Hui’s grave. Today is the hundredth day since his death. I brought some paper money to burn in front of his grave. Who would have thought I’d meet Master here!” Boya said, “In that case, I’ll accompany you to pay my respects at his grave.” He ordered the young boy to carry the bamboo basket for his grandfather.

Lord Zhong led the way with his walking stick, followed by Boya, with the young boy right behind them. They reached the entrance of the valley again. Indeed, there was a small mound of earth on the left side of the road. Boya adjusted his clothes and bowed, saying, “My dear brother was intelligent in life, and now he serves as a spirit after death.”

“Brother, with this bow, it is truly a forever goodbye!” After bowing, he cried out loudly again. The people living in and around the mountains—near and far—heard that a high-ranking official had come to pay respects at Zhong Ziqi’s grave, so they gathered around to watch. But Boya hadn’t prepared any offerings and didn’t know what to do. He ordered his servant to take out the jade zither from its bag and place it on the altar stone. Sitting cross-legged in front of the grave, tears streaming down his face, he played a tune on the zither. Those who watched, hearing the resonant sound of the zither, applauded and laughed before dispersing. Boya asked, “Elder sir, I am playing this tune on the zither to mourn my dear brother. Why are they laughing?” Zhong Gong replied, “These simple folks don’t understand music. They thought the sound of the zither was something for entertainment, that’s why they laughed.” Boya said, “I see. Does the elder sir know what piece I’m playing?” Zhong Gong said, “I also learned some music when I was young. But now that I’m old, my senses have weakened, and I can no longer understand it.” Boya said, “This is just a short piece I played casually to mourn my brother. Let me recite it for you to hear.” Zhong Gong said, “I’d like to hear it.” Boya recited, “I recall last spring by the river, we met there. Today I return once more, but I find no one who understands my music. All I see is a mound of earth, which deeply saddens my heart. Heartbroken, heartbroken again, I can hardly hold back my tears. Why come here for joy? Sadness fills the air by the river. Ziqi, Ziqi, between us lies a bond worth a thousand gold pieces. Though we’ve traveled far apart, there’s nothing left to say. This tune will be played no more; I’ll die for this three-foot jade zither.”

Boya took out a knife from his clothes, cut the strings of the zither, raised it with both hands, and threw it onto the altar stone. With force, it shattered, leaving the jade in pieces and the gold fittings scattered. Zhong Gong was shocked and asked, “Sir, why did you break this zither?” Boya said, “By breaking this jade zither, I end its cold existence. Since Ziqi is no longer here, for whom else should I play? In spring, everyone is a friend, but finding someone who truly understands music is extremely difficult.”

Zhong Gong said, “I see. How pitiful!” Boya asked, “Elder sir, do you live in Upper Jixian Village or Lower Jixian Village?” Zhong Gong replied, “I live in the eighth house of Upper Jixian Village. Why do you ask now?” Boya said, “I’m too grief-stricken to accompany you inside. I have two taels of gold with me. Half will be used to provide food for your son, and the other half to buy some land for burying him each spring and autumn. When I return to my court, I’ll submit a request to retire to the mountains. Then I’ll go to Upper Jixian Village to welcome you and your wife to my humble home, where we can spend our remaining days together. I am Ziqi, and Ziqi is me. Please don’t treat me as a stranger.” With that, he ordered his servant to hand over the gold to Zhong Gong, then bowed to the ground in tears. Zhong Gong returned the bow and lingered for a while before parting.

This chapter is titled “Boya Shatters His Zither to Thank His True Friend.” Later poets praised it with these lines: “Alliances are driven by self-interest; who still values true friendship? If Boya hadn’t met Ziqi, his story would remain untold through the ages.”

Qin. Volume Two: Zhuangzi and the Drum Basin – Achieving the Great Way

Wealth and honor are but spring dreams at dawn; fame and achievement are like floating clouds. Even those who are close to us are not truly real; love turns into hatred. Do not put golden shackles around your neck, nor wrap jade locks around your body. Keep a pure heart and few desires to escape the mundane world; true happiness lies in what is rightfully yours.

This poem, “Xi Jiang Yue,” serves as a message of advice for people. It urges them to break free from worldly attachments and live freely. Relationships such as those between father and son, or brothers, are like intertwined branches that cannot be severed. Although Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism differ, they all emphasize the importance of filial piety and brotherly duty. As for having children and grandchildren, that belongs to the next generation and must be handled with great care. As the saying goes, “Children and grandchildren have their own blessings; do not treat them like horses or oxen.” As for husbands and wives, though bound by fate, their relationship can still be separated. Another saying goes, “Husbands and wives are like birds in the same forest; by dawn, they fly apart.”

In modern times, human relationships have become cold and superficial. Father-son and brotherly bonds are common, and while caring for children and grandchildren is important, it pales in comparison to the bond between husband and wife. Many people are captivated by romantic love and indulge in words spoken in bed. Many are led astray by women and end up acting unfilially or unbrotherly. Such behavior is certainly not that of wise people. The story of Zhuangzi and the drum basin is not meant to incite discord between spouses; rather, it aims to help people distinguish between wisdom and foolishness, and truth from falsehood. By letting go of initial attachments, one’s senses can become pure, and a sense of the Dao can arise, bringing benefits. In ancient times, someone observed farmers planting rice and composed four lines of poetry expressing deep insight: “Hands plant green rice in the fields; looking down, one sees the sky in the water. Only when the senses are pure can there be rice; stepping back is actually moving forward.”

It is said that during the weekends, there was a wise man named Zhuang, with the given name Zhou and the courtesy name Zixiu, from Mengyi in the State of Song. He once served as an official in the state of Zhou. He studied under a great sage, the founder of Taoism, named Li Er, with the courtesy name Boyang. Boyang was born with white hair, and people called him Laozi. Zhuangzi often slept during the day and dreamed of being a butterfly, fluttering among flowers and plants in the garden, feeling very happy. When he woke up, he still felt as if his arms were wings in motion, which surprised him greatly. Such dreams continued to occur from time to time. One day, while discussing the Book of Changes with Laozi, Zhuangzi shared this dream with his teacher. The sage understood the origins of past lives and explained to Zhuangzi that he had originally been a white butterfly at the beginning of creation. When heaven created water, then wood emerged, and the wood blossomed into flowers. That white butterfly gathered the essence of various flowers and absorbed the brilliance of the sun and moon, gaining immortality with wings as large as wheels. Later, it wandered to the Jade Pool and stole petals from the peach trees there, resulting in its death at the hands of the blue phoenix guarding the flowers under the Queen Mother of the West. Its spirit did not dissipate and was reborn as Zhuangzi. Because of his extraordinary aptitude and firm devotion to the Dao, he studied under Laozi and learned the teachings of purity and non-action. When Laozi revealed his past life, Zhuangzi woke up as if from a dream, feeling a breeze beneath his armpits.

Life, with its imagery of butterflies in flight. He regarded the ebb and flow of worldly fortunes as something like drifting clouds and flowing water, holding onto nothing at all. Seeing that he had achieved great enlightenment, Laozi imparted to him the secrets contained in the five-thousand-character “Tao Te Ching.” Zhuangzi studied and practiced these teachings, eventually gaining the ability to divide his body, become invisible, and transform at will. From then on, he abandoned his career as an official in the paint workshop, bid farewell to Laozi, and set out on a journey to seek the Way.

Although he adhered to the teachings of purity, he did not reject marital bonds; he married three times. His first wife died young from illness. His second wife was divorced due to some fault. The third wife, surnamed Tian, was from the Tian family of Qi. While traveling in Qi, the Tian clan valued his character and gave their daughter to him as a wife. This Tian woman was even more beautiful than his previous two wives, with skin like ice and snow and a grace akin to that of a fairy. Though Zhuangzi was not a man of lust, he treated her with great respect, and their relationship was harmonious.

King Wei of Chu, hearing of Zhuangzi’s wisdom, sent envoys with a hundred taels of gold, a thousand pieces of fine silk, as well as luxurious carriages and horses, offering him the position of prime minister. Zhuangzi sighed and said, “To dress like a sacrificed ox covered in embroidery and eat grass and beans—while seeing oxen toiling hard, one boasts of one’s own glory. But once brought into the temple, with knives and cutting boards before them, one can no longer be an ox.” Thus, he declined the offer, took his wife back to Song, and lived in seclusion on Mount Nanhua south of Caozhou.

One day, while walking at the foot of the mountain, Zhuangzi saw piles of abandoned graves and sighed, “There is no difference between the young and the old; the wise and the foolish end up in the same place. Once people are buried in graves, how can they become humans again?” After lamenting for a while, he walked a few steps further and suddenly saw a new grave whose mound of earth was still wet. A young woman dressed in plain black clothes sat beside it, fanning the grave continuously with a white silk fan. Zhuangzi found this strange and asked her, “Madam, who is buried in this grave? Why are you fanning the earth? There must be a reason.” The woman did not rise but continued to fan, speaking in words that made no sense. It was truly such that listening to her speech made people laugh heartily, yet her words only added to the embarrassment.

The woman said, “In this grave lies my foolish husband, who unfortunately passed away and has his bones buried here. During his lifetime, he loved me deeply, and even after death he would not leave me. He left instructions that if I wanted to remarry, I should wait until the burial was complete and the grave soil had dried before doing so. I wonder how the newly piled earth can dry quickly, which is why I keep fanning it.” Zhuangzi smiled inwardly, thinking, “This woman is so impatient! Yet she claims they loved each other in life. If they hadn’t loved each other, what else would she need to wait for?” Then he asked, “Madam, it’s easy to dry this new earth. It’s just that your wrists are too delicate, so you lack the strength to fan effectively. I’m willing to help you with this task.” Only then did the woman rise and bow deeply, saying, “Thank you very much, sir!” She handed the white silk fan to Zhuangzi. Zhuangzi performed a magical ritual, raised his hand, and fanned the top of the grave several times. All the moisture disappeared, and the earth immediately dried. The woman smiled gratefully and said, “Thank you for your help, sir.”

The man exerted force. He pulled out a silver hairpin from his temple with his delicate hand and gave it to Zhuangzi along with the silk fan as a token of gratitude. Zhuangzi accepted the silver hairpin and the silk fan, and the woman left happily.

Zhuangzi felt displeased. Returning home, he sat in his thatched cottage, looked at the silk fan, and sighed four lines: “Enemies inevitably meet; once they do, when will they part? Had I known there’s no loyalty after death, I would have cherished the affection in life.”

Mrs. Tian, who was behind him, heard Zhuangzi’s sighs and came forward to ask what was wrong. Zhuangzi was a man of virtue, and even in marriage he was addressed as “sir.” Mrs. Tian said, “Sir, what troubles you? Where did this fan come from?” Zhuangzi recounted the woman’s words about wanting to remarry once the grave was filled with soil. “This fan is made of earth. Since I helped her, she gives it to me as a gift.” Hearing this, Mrs. Tian suddenly grew angry and cursed the woman in the air, calling her “utterly unworthy.” She then said to Zhuangzi, “Such heartless women are rare in the world!” Zhuangzi recited another four lines: “In life, everyone claims deep affection; after death, everyone seeks graves. It’s hard to depict bones even when drawing dragons or tigers; one can know a person’s face but not their heart.”

Mrs. Tian was furious upon hearing this. As the saying goes, “Resentment ruins kinship, anger destroys propriety.” In her anger, she disregarded propriety, spat on Zhuangzi’s face, and said, “Though humans are the same, there’s a difference between the wise and the foolish. How dare you speak such things lightly, treating all women in the world as the same? Don’t you fear bringing shame upon good people? You really don’t care about sin!” Zhuangzi replied, “Don’t talk nonsense. If, unfortunately, I, Zhuang Zhou, die, how can you, at such a beautiful age, endure three or five years?” Mrs. Tian said, “‘Loyal ministers serve only one lord; chaste women never marry twice.’ Do you see any virtuous woman taking tea from two households and sleeping in two beds? If such a thing happened to me, I wouldn’t do it even for a lifetime—there’s still some pride left in my dreams.” Zhuangzi said, “It’s hard to say! Hard to say!” Mrs. Tian cursed, “A woman with determination is better than a man. People like you, who lack kindness and righteousness, lose one and get another, marry one and take another, thinking others are the same. We women stand firm on our own. How could we spread such words and bring shame to future generations? Since you’re not dying now, you’ve wasted someone’s life!” She snatched the silk fan from Zhuangzi’s hands and tore it to pieces. Zhuangzi said, “No need to be angry. It’s good that you show such determination!” From then on, there were no more words between them.

A few days later, Zhuangzi suddenly fell ill, and his condition worsened day by day. Mrs. Tian sat by his bed, crying bitterly. Zhuangzi said, “My illness is so severe; parting is only a matter of time. It’s a pity the silk fan was torn to pieces yesterday. If it were still here, I could give it to you before I die!” Mrs. Tian said, “Sir, don’t worry! I’m educated and know propriety. I will…”

I will remain faithful until the end, swearing no other intentions. If my lord does not believe me, I am willing to die before him to prove my sincerity.”

Zhuangzi said, “This shows how noble your aspirations are. Even in death, I, Zhuang, can rest in peace.” With that, he passed away.

Mrs. Tian wept bitterly over his body. She had no choice but to ask the neighbors to prepare clothes, quilts, a coffin, and other funeral necessities. Wearing plain black clothes, she was filled with sorrow day and night. Thinking of Zhuangzi’s love during their lifetime, she became obsessed, neglecting both food and sleep. The villagers around the mountains knew that Zhuangzi was a hermit who had left his name behind, so those who came to pay their respects were not as numerous as those from the cities.

On the seventh day, suddenly appeared a young man of great beauty—his face as fair as powdered porcelain, his lips as red as rouge; he was the most handsome and charming man around. He wore purple clothes and a black hat, with embroidered sashes and red shoes. Accompanied by an old servant, he claimed to be a descendant of the King of Chu. He said he had once made an agreement with Master Zhuangzi to become his disciple and had come to visit today. Seeing that Zhuangzi was dead, he exclaimed, “What a pity!” He quickly took off his colorful clothes and asked the servant to bring out plain clothes for him to wear. He bowed four times in front of the spirit altar and said, “Master Zhuangzi, I was not fortunate enough to meet you in person or receive your teachings. I wish to observe a hundred days of mourning for you to express my deep admiration.” After bowing four more times, he shed tears and then asked to meet Mrs. Tian.

At first, Mrs. Tian refused. The prince said, “According to ancient customs, family friends do not avoid each other, let alone a disciple and his master!” So Mrs. Tian stepped out of the mourning room to meet the prince of Chu. After exchanging pleasantries, she felt affection for his good looks but regretted not being able to be closer to him. The prince said, “Although the master is dead, I still cannot forget him. I would like to stay at your home for a hundred days—first to mourn the master, and second to read any writings he left behind so I can learn from them.” Mrs. Tian said, “Since we are family friends, it’s fine if you stay for a while.” She immediately prepared food to entertain him.

After dinner, Mrs. Tian gave him Zhuangzi’s works, including the “True Scripture of the South” and the “Laozi: The Book of Virtue” in five thousand characters. The prince thanked her sincerely. A shrine was set up in the middle of the cottage, with the prince staying in the left side room. Every day, Mrs. Tian pretended to be mourning and went to the left side room to talk with the prince. Their relationship grew closer, and they couldn’t resist their feelings for each other. The prince had only half the desire, but Mrs. Tian had ten times as much. What pleased her was that they were in a remote mountain area, so no one would hear about their affairs. What troubled her was that the mourning period had not yet ended, and moreover, it was difficult for a woman to pursue a man.

A few more days passed, about half a month. The woman could no longer hold back her desires. She quietly called the old servant into her room, gave him some fine wine, and comforted him with kind words. Then she asked casually, “Has your master ever been married?”

“No?” The old servant replied, “Not yet married.” The woman asked again, “What kind of person will your master choose before agreeing to a marriage?” The drunk old servant said, “My young master once said that if he could find someone as graceful as you, he would be completely satisfied.” The woman said, “Is that really what he said? Are you lying?” The old servant replied, “I’m an old man now—how could I lie?” The woman said, “I beg you to act as a matchmaker for us. If you’re not averse, I’m willing to serve your master.” The old servant said, “My master also told me about a good match, but the issue is the relationship of ‘master and disciple,’ which might lead to gossip.” The woman said, “Your master and my late husband only had an informal agreement in life; there was no formal apprenticeship, so they can’t be considered master and disciple. Besides, we live in a remote place with few neighbors—who would gossip? You must surely help us through this so that I can celebrate with you.” The old servant agreed. Before leaving, the woman called him back and instructed, “If it goes well, come to my room anytime, day or night, and let me know. I’ll be waiting here.”

After the old servant left, the woman waited anxiously. She glanced around the ancestral hall several times, wishing she could tie that handsome young man up with a thin rope and pull him in to be together. As dusk approached, impatient, she entered the ancestral hall in the darkness and listened for noises from the left side. Suddenly, there was a sound from the altar. The woman was startled, thinking a spirit had appeared. She hurriedly went to the inner room to get a light. It turned out the old servant was drunk, lying straight on the altar table. The woman didn’t dare scold him or call out to him, so she returned to her room. Another night passed.

The next day, she saw the old servant coming and going but still not returning with any news. Anxious, she called him into her room and asked what had happened. The old servant said, “It won’t work! It won’t work!” The woman asked, “Why not? Did you not explain everything clearly last night?” The old servant replied, “I’ve already said everything. My young master also made sense. He said, ‘Her beauty goes without saying. Since there’s no formal apprenticeship, that’s not an issue either. But there are three things that aren’t right, so it’s hard to agree to marry her.’” The woman asked, “What are those three things?” The old servant said, “My young master said, ‘There’s a weapon displayed in the hall. How can I perform a wedding ceremony with you there? It’s inappropriate. Second, Master Zhuang and you were loving spouses, and besides, he’s a virtuous and respected man. My knowledge and skills are far inferior to his; I fear you might look down on me. Third, my luggage isn’t here yet. Coming empty-handed, I have no money for gifts or a banquet. That’s why it won’t work.’”

The woman said, “You don’t need to worry about those three things. That weapon isn’t fixed in place. There’s an empty room behind the house—just ask a few servants to carry it away. That solves one problem. As for the second issue, my late husband…”

Is he just a morally upright sage? He failed to manage his household properly, leading to his wife being sent away; people regarded him as having weak morals. King Wei of Chu admired his false reputation and invited him to be prime minister with generous gifts. Realizing his own lack of ability, he fled here. Previously, Qiao Yue walked alone at the foot of the mountain and met a widow who was tending to a grave, waiting for it to dry before getting married. That foolish man teased her, took her fan, and filled the grave in her place. I brought back that fan—I tore it to pieces. A few days before dying, I even caused her trouble; what kind of affection is that! Your master is young and eager to learn, with boundless potential. Moreover, he is a noble prince, while I am the daughter of a noble family—our social statuses are equal. Today, our fates are united by destiny. Thirdly, as for the expenses for the wedding feast, I’ll take care of it. Who would want a dowry? The feast is also a trivial matter; I have saved twenty taels of silver, which I’ll give to your master to buy a new set of clothes. Go and convey this message. If everything goes well, tonight is an auspicious day for marriage, and we must get married right away.”

The old servant took the twenty taels of silver and returned to the prince of Chu. The prince had no choice but to comply. The old servant reported back to the woman, who was overjoyed. She took off her mourning clothes, reapplied her makeup, colored her lips red, and put on fresh clothes. She told the servant to call the guests from the nearby villa and carry Master Zhuang’s coffin to a dilapidated house at the back. They cleaned the cottage to prepare for the wedding feast. Here’s a poem to prove it: “The beautiful widow is especially charming; the prince is determined to win her heart. Who will speak of the horse and saddle? Tonight, she hopes to welcome her husband home.”

That night, the woman prepared the bridal chamber, and the cottage was lit brightly with lamps and candles. The prince of Chu wore ornate robes, while Lady Tian wore a brocaded jacket and embroidered skirt. Together, they stood beneath the floral candles. The couple, dressed like jade and gold, were incredibly beautiful. After exchanging vows and expressing their deep love, they entered the bridal chamber hand in hand. After drinking the marriage cup, they were about to go to bed. Suddenly, the prince’s brows furrowed, he couldn’t move, and he fell to the ground, clutching his chest in pain. Lady Tian, who loved the prince deeply, ignored the shame of their new marriage, rushed over, held him, and tried to comfort him, asking what was wrong. The prince suffered greatly, unable to speak, drooling, on the verge of death. The old servant was panicked. Lady Tian asked, “Has the prince had this condition before?” The old servant replied, “He usually has this symptom. It occurs once every year or two, and there’s no cure. There’s only one thing that works immediately.” Lady Tian urgently asked, “What is it?” The old servant said, “The imperial physician passed down a strange remedy: one must swallow hot wine mixed with the brain marrow of a living person, and the pain will stop instantly. Whenever this illness strikes, His Highness has requested the king of Chu to send a condemned prisoner, tie them up, kill them, and obtain their brain marrow. But how can we find such a person in the mountains? His life is likely over!” Lady Tian said, “Living people’s brain marrow is impossible. But could we use that of a dead person?” The old servant replied, “The imperial physician said that as long as the person has died within forty-nine days, their brain hasn’t dried out yet, so it can be used.” Lady Tian said, “My husband died just over twenty days ago. Why not open his coffin and get it?” The old servant said, “I’m afraid, madam…”

“He refuses,” said Lady Tian. “I and Wang Sun became husband and wife; a wife serves her husband with her own body—why would she spare even her own life, let alone her decaying bones?”

She ordered the old servant to attend to Wang Sun while she fetched an axe for chopping wood. Holding the axe in her right hand and a lamp in her left, she went to the ruined house behind and placed the lamp on top of the coffin lid. After examining the lid, she raised the axe with both hands and swung hard to break it open. But as a woman, she lacked the strength to do so. There was a reason for this: Zhuangzi was a man who valued simplicity and did not wish for extravagant funerary preparations. The three-inch-thick tung wood coffin was split with just one swing of the axe. Another swing, and the lid cracked open. Zhuangzi could be seen sighing inside the coffin; he pushed the lid aside and sat up. Though Lady Tian was heartless, she was still a woman. She was so frightened that her legs turned weak and her heart pounded wildly; the axe fell to the ground unnoticed. Zhuangzi called out, “My lady, help me up.”

The woman had no choice but to assist Zhuangzi out of the coffin. Zhuangzi carried the lamp, and the woman followed him into the room. Knowing that King Chu’s servant and master were still in the room, she grew anxious. With each step forward, she took two steps back. When she finally entered the room, everything still looked splendid, but the master and servant were nowhere to be seen. Though she was suspicious, she regained some courage and tried to cover up her actions. She said to Zhuangzi, “Since your death, I have thought of you day and night. Just now, I heard noises coming from the coffin. I heard that in ancient times, many people came back to life. I hoped you would revive, so I used the axe to open the coffin. Thank heaven—I really am fortunate!”

Zhuangzi replied, “Thank you for your kindness, my lady. But one thing puzzles me: you haven’t been in mourning for long—why are you wearing embroidered clothes?” The woman explained, “Seeing the coffin open brought good fortune, so I didn’t dare wear mourning clothes. I wore these embroidered ones to bring good luck.” Zhuangzi said, “Enough! Another thing—why wasn’t the coffin placed in the main bedroom? Why was it left in that ruined house? Is that also considered a good omen?” The woman had no answer. Seeing the dishes and cups laid out, Zhuangzi didn’t ask about that either and asked for wine to drink.

Zhuangzi drank heartily, finishing several cups. The woman, not understanding the situation, hoped to rekindle her relationship with her husband by warming him up. She leaned close to the wine jar, acting coquettishly and speaking sweet words, trying to persuade Zhuangzi to go to bed with her. Zhuangzi, drunk from the wine, took paper and pen and wrote four lines: “I’ve settled my debts with my rival long ago. When you loved me, I didn’t love you. If I were to become your husband again, I fear you’d use your axe to split my skull.”

When the woman read those four lines, she was filled with shame and speechless. Zhuangzi wrote four more lines: “What good is being husband and wife for a hundred nights? Once a new lover appears, the old one is forgotten. Having just escaped the coffin only to be split by an axe—how can I wait until I’m buried?”

Zhuangzi said again, “I’ll show you two people.” Zhuangzi pointed outside with his hand. The woman turned to look and saw the Prince of Chu and an old servant approaching. She was shocked and turned away, no longer seeing Zhuangzi. When she looked back again, neither the Prince nor the servant was there. There was no such thing as a Prince of Chu or an old servant; these were all Zhuangzi’s illusions created through his power to disguise himself and become invisible.

The woman was in a daze, feeling ashamed. She untied the sash around her waist and hung herself from the beam. Alas! She truly died. Seeing that Lady Tian was dead, Zhuangzi came down and took her out of the coffin. He used a pottery basin as a musical instrument, playing melodies while leaning against the coffin and singing. His song went: “The great universe has no intentions; it gave birth to me and her. I am not her husband, nor is she my wife. We met by chance and lived together in one house. Once our time was up, we parted. Life is full of fickleness; feelings change between life and death. Now that true love has been shown, why stay alive? When she lives, she chooses to go; when she dies, she returns to emptiness. She mourns me by giving me a huge axe; I mourn her with songs. When the sound of the axe rises, I come back to life; when my songs are sung, can she know? Alas! I break the pottery basin and stop playing; who is she, and who am I?”

After singing, Zhuangzi recited four lines of poetry: “If you die, I will bury you; if I die, you must marry someone else. If I really die, it will be a great joke!”

Zhuangzi laughed loudly and shattered the pottery basin. He set fire to the thatched cottage, burning everything down, including the coffin, which turned to ashes. Only the “Tao Te Ching” and the “Nan Hua Jing” remained unburned. People in the mountains found them and passed them down to this day. Zhuangzi traveled everywhere throughout his life without ever marrying. Some say he met Laozi at Hangu Pass and left with him, having achieved immortality through the Way. As the poem says: “Wu Qi was too foolish to kill his wife; Xun Kuang was also contemptible for grieving so much. Look at Zhuangzi’s story with the pottery basin—his carefree spirit is my teacher.” Volume Three: Wang Anshi’s Three Challenges to Scholar Su

Sea turtles once mocked frogs in wells; eagles spread their wings and circle the world. Even among the strong, there are those stronger still—never boast in front of others.

These four lines of poetry advise people to be humble and not complacent. The ancients said well, “Complacency brings loss; humility brings benefit.” There are also four things that should never be exhausted—power should not be used to its limit, fortune should not be enjoyed to its fullest, advantages should not be taken to extremes, and intelligence should not be utilized completely. Look at those who have power today—they don’t do good deeds but act arbitrarily, harming others like venomous snakes and fierce beasts, making people afraid to approach them. Seeing others fear them, they feel triumphant, thinking they’ve won. But they don’t realize...

Even in the high tides of August, there are times when they subside. In the dangerous reefs and fierce waves, taking advantage of the favorable wind at such moments, one sets sail with full sails, moving forward with great ease. But it’s easy to set out, yet difficult to return. In those days, Jie of Xia and Zhou of Shang, though emperors, ended up hiding in Nanchao or hanging themselves on Mount Tai. What crimes did Jie and Zhou commit? Nothing more than exploiting the weak and oppressing the poor—nothing but using their power. If Jie and Zhou had been ordinary people, would they still have committed so many evils? Hence the saying, “One should not exhaust one’s power.”

How is it said that one should not enjoy all blessings? As the saying goes, “Appreciate your clothes when you have them; appreciate your food when you have it.” It’s also said, “No one is born either long-lived or short-lived; when one’s fortunes run out, they perish.” During the Jin dynasty, Shi Chong, the Grand Commandant, competed in wealth with the imperial prince Kai. He poured wine into his cooking pots and used wax instead of firewood. His silk curtains stretched for fifty miles, and even his toilets were covered with fine fabrics, filled with a pleasant fragrance. His servants wore clothes made of fire-washed cloth, each costing a thousand gold pieces. He spent ten hu of pearls just to buy a concubine. Eventually, he died at the hands of King Luan of Zhao, with his body and head separated. This was the consequence of enjoying too much fortune.

How is it said that one should not take all advantages? Suppose a merchant takes even a tiny amount for himself and smiles broadly. Yet if the minor clerk loses even a little money, the whole family won’t have enough to eat. What’s the use of being greedy for such trivial gains? An old poem about taking advantages goes: “I’ll cover you with my blanket, and you cover me with yours. If you have money, we’ll share it; if I don’t, I’ll use yours. When climbing mountains, you’ll support my feet; when coming down, I’ll lean on your shoulder. When I have sons, I’ll be your son-in-law; when you have daughters, they’ll accompany me in bed. If you keep this vow, I’ll die after you. If I break it, you’ll die before me.”

If everyone followed this poem, who would be the fool to give way? Even if one gains temporary benefits, they unknowingly harm their own fortune and lifespan. That’s why Buddhism advises people to endure a small loss for immense blessings. There’s a poem to prove this: “Happy when gaining advantages, but troubled when not. Not seeking advantages means no losses, no joy, no sorrow.”

That’s all for these three points. As for being smart—something hard to attain—how can it be said that one should not exhaust one’s intelligence? There are endless things in the world to see, endless books to read, and endless principles to understand. It’s better to be somewhat ignorant yet intelligent than intelligent yet ignorant. Now let’s talk about a person who was the smartest in ancient times. He was smart throughout his life, but once he was ignorant. He left behind beautiful writings for future generations who pride themselves on their talents. Who was this most intelligent person? He was skilled in composing poems and riddles, and excelled in all kinds of wit. If it wasn’t Confucius reborn, it must have been Yan Hui reincarnated.

During the reign of Emperor Song Shenzong, there was a Confucian scholar named Su Shi, styled Zizhan and also known as Dongpo. He was from Meishan, Meizhou in Sichuan. He became famous quickly and was appointed as a Hanlin Academician. He possessed extraordinary talent—able to recite what he read at first sight and compose essays effortlessly. He had the elegance of Li Bai and surpassed Cao Zijian in quickness of mind. Under Prime Minister Wang Anshi, who greatly valued his abilities, Dongpo, confident in his own intelligence, often made sarcastic remarks. Wang Anshi wrote an explanation for each character, defining its meaning. Once, when discussing the character “po,” which consists of “earth” and “skin,” he said it meant “the skin of earth.” Dongpo replied with a smile, “If that’s the case, then the character ‘hua’ must mean ‘the bone of water.’” Another day, when talking about the character “yan,” which is made up of “fish” and “child,” meaning “fish eggs,” Dongpo suggested that ancient people must have had a reason for creating such characters. Wang Anshi agreed and eagerly asked for further explanation. Dongpo said, “The Book of Songs says, ‘The turtledoves are on the mulberry tree; they have seven chicks.’ Including the mother and father, that makes nine.” Wang Anshi remained silent, disapproving of his frivolity, and demoted him to governor of Huzhou. As the saying goes: “Disputes arise from talking too much, and troubles stem from clever wordplay.”

While serving as governor in Huzhou, after three years, Dongpo returned to the capital and stayed at the Daxiangguo Temple. Since he had offended Wang Anshi, he brought this upon himself. As the saying goes, “Before going to see the emperor, one should first pay respects to the prime minister.” He arranged for his attendants to act out a scene and rode horseback to Prime Minister Wang’s residence. A short distance away from the mansion, Dongpo dismounted and walked forward. He saw many officials standing at the entrance. Dongpo raised his hand and asked, “Are the grand tutor present?” The gatekeeper replied, “My lord is still asleep; please wait inside for a while.” His attendants set up a bed inside, and Dongpo sat down, leaving the door slightly ajar. Soon, a young man, barely in his twenties, wearing a large hat and a green silk robe, stepped out of the mansion. All the officials bowed to him as he walked from east to west. Dongpo ordered his attendants to find out who that man was. They learned that he was the head of the writing office in the prime minister’s household, named Xu. Dongpo remembered that there was a Xu Lun in Wang Anshi’s office who hadn’t reached adulthood three years ago. Although he was now an adult, he still looked the same. He told his attendants, “Since it’s Xu, who’s just ahead of me, go and ask him to come over quickly.” The attendants rushed off and caught up with Xu Lun. Not daring to call out from behind, they went up to him from the side, stood respectfully by the road, and said, “I am one of Governor Su of Huzhou’s attendants. Governor Su is inside and would like to speak with Master Xu.” Xu Lun asked, “Is it Governor Su with the long beard?” The attendant replied, “Yes, exactly.” Dongpo was a charming and talented man who was always friendly. He had a good relationship with Xu Lun and often gave him fans as gifts. Hearing that it was Scholar Su, Xu Lun smiled slightly and turned to leave. The attendant returned to the room and reported that Xu Lun had arrived. When Xu Lun entered, he intended to kneel, but Dongpo stopped him. Xu Lun was in charge of the writing office in the prime minister’s household, and whenever officials from various regions came to the capital to meet with the prime minister, they would bring gifts along with letters introducing themselves. So why did he want to kneel when seeing Governor Su? Because Governor Su...

Having long been associated with the Prime Minister, Xu Lun had agreed since childhood to serve as a tea preparer, just like his former master, and thus never rose to higher positions. Lord Su, however, respected his dignity and took him by the arm, saying, “Master Xu, there’s no need for such formalities.” Xu Lun replied, “This is not the proper place for Lord Su to sit; please come inside to the east study where we can serve tea.”

The east study was actually the Prime Minister Wang’s outer study, where all students and acquaintances who came to visit would meet. Xu Lun led Lord Su to the east study, showed him a seat, and ordered a servant to prepare tea. “Lord Su, I’ve been sent by my master to fetch medicine from the Imperial Medical Academy; I shouldn’t be here serving tea. How can this be acceptable?” Dongpo said, “Please go ahead and handle your duties.” After Xu Lun left, Dongpo saw that the walls were lined with books locked away, and on the writing desk there were only a brush and inkstone—nothing else. He opened the inkstone box and examined the inkwell; it was a green Duan inkstone, very exquisite. There was still some un dried ink on it. Just as he was about to close it, he noticed a corner of paper sticking out from beneath the box. He lifted the box, revealing a piece of plain paper folded in half. When he unfolded it, he found two unfinished lines of poetry, written in Jing Gong’s handwriting, titled “Ode to Chrysanthemums.” Dongpo smiled and said, “When scholars are apart for three days, they seem different when they meet again. Back when I was an official in the capital, this old man could write thousands of words effortlessly. But after three years, things changed—he lost his talent, unable even to complete two lines of poetry.” After reading them, he exclaimed, “Ah, even these two lines are nonsensical.” What were those two lines supposed to say? “Last night, the west wind swept through the garden, blowing yellow flowers everywhere, turning the ground golden.” Why did Dongpo call these lines nonsensical? Each season has its own name for the wind: spring is called the gentle wind, summer the fragrant wind, autumn the golden wind, and winter the northern wind. These four winds correspond to the four seasons. The first line mentions the west wind, which belongs to the west, associated with metal, and thus represents autumn. When the golden wind blows, the parasol trees turn yellow, and all flowers wither. The second line says, “It blows yellow flowers everywhere, turning the ground golden”—referring to chrysanthemums. These flowers bloom in late autumn, belong to the element of fire, and can withstand the frost of autumn. No matter how old they get, their petals never fall. To say “it blows yellow flowers everywhere, turning the ground golden” is incorrect, isn’t it? Inspired by the moment, he couldn’t resist writing two more lines in rhyme: “Autumn flowers don’t fall like spring flowers; tell the poet to ponder this carefully.”

After writing them, Dongpo felt ashamed again. “If this old man comes out of his study and sees these poems, he’ll criticize me right away. That wouldn’t be proper for a junior to do. If I try to hide them, I’m afraid Jing Gong won’t be able to find the poems, and Xu Lun will be implicated.” After considering this, he folded the poem back up, placed it under the inkstone box, closed the box, and left the study. At the gate, he took his letter and gave it to the guard, instructing him, “When the Grand Tutor comes out, inform him that I’ve been waiting here for some time. Since I’ve just arrived in the capital, I haven’t yet prepared my official documents. I’ll submit them during tomorrow’s morning court session before coming to see him again.” With that, he rode back to his residence.

Before long, Duke Jing emerged from his hall. Although the gatekeeper officials had been instructed by Lord Su and there was no paper package to accompany him, the man who reported to him simply handed over his official credentials and the door registry. Duke Jing treated this as routine and didn’t bother to examine it, keeping in mind two lines of a poem about chrysanthemums whose rhyme was unfinished. Just then, Xu Lun returned from the Imperial Medical Bureau with medicine. Duke Jing ordered Xu Lun to take it to the eastern study, then followed in. Once seated, he opened the inkstone box, took out the draft poem, and asked Xu Lun, “Who came here just now?” Xu Lun knelt down and replied, “Lord Su from Huzhou Prefecture came to see Your Excellency.” Duke Jing recognized the handwriting as that of Scholar Su. He remained silent but pondered inwardly, “That wretched Su Shi, despite his setbacks, still hasn’t changed his frivolous nature! Not realizing his own lack of knowledge and talent, he dares to mock me! At tomorrow’s morning court session, I’ll report this to the authorities and have him demoted to a commoner.” Then he thought, “Wait, he doesn’t even know about the fallen chrysanthemum petals in Huangzhou—so it’s not his fault!” He ordered Xu Lun to bring the roster of vacant positions in Huguang Province. Looking at it, all positions in Huzhou Prefecture were filled except for one deputy military commander position, which Duke Jing noted in his mind. He ordered Xu Lun to paste the poem draft on a pillar in the study.

At tomorrow’s morning court session, he secretly reported to the emperor that Su Shi lacked the necessary talent and should be demoted to the position of deputy military commander in Huangzhou. Officials across the country submitted petitions to the capital regarding promotions, demotions, and other appointments, each settling into their respective roles. Only Dongpo was unconvinced, knowing inwardly that Duke Jing was punishing him for altering the poem as a personal vendetta. With no choice, he could only express his gratitude. As soon as he removed his court robes in the audience hall, an attendant announced, “Prime Minister is leaving the court.” Dongpo stepped outside to pay his respects. Duke Jing raised his hand from within his sedan chair and said, “I have a meal planned for this afternoon.” Dongpo accepted the order. He went back to his quarters to write a letter, sending officials from Huzhou along with the household manager to pick up his family and meet him in Huangzhou.

After noon, dressed in plain clothes with a sash, Dongpo prepared his official credentials as the new deputy military commander in Huangzhou and rode a horse to meet the prime minister for the meal. The gatekeeper announced his arrival, and Duke Jing instructed him to enter the main hall for an audience. Duke Jing treated him with the respect due between teacher and student, while someone prepared tea. Duke Jing then said, “Your demotion to Huangzhou was the emperor’s decision; I am powerless to help. Please don’t blame me, Zizhan.” Dongpo replied, “This humble student knows his own lack of talent; how dare I complain to the Grand Tutor?” Duke Jing smiled and said, “Zizhan has great talent—how could he lack it? But as an official in Huangzhou, with plenty of free time, he should still read and broaden his knowledge.” Dongpo, who had read countless books and surpassed thousands in talent, wondered what kind of reading was being suggested now. He thanked him verbally, saying, “I appreciate the Grand Tutor’s guidance,” but remained even more dissatisfied inwardly. Duke Jing was extremely frugal—his meals consisted of no more than four dishes, three cups of wine, and just one bite of food. After Dongpo bid farewell, Duke Jing escorted him to the threshold, taking Dongpo’s hand and saying, “In my youth, I spent ten years studying by lamplight, which led to an illness. In old age, it manifested again. The Imperial Medical Bureau diagnosed it as phlegm-fire. Though I’ve taken medicine, it’s hard to cure it completely. Only Yangxian tea can treat it. Jingxi sent tribute of Yangxian tea, which the emperor bestowed upon me. I asked the officials at the Imperial Medical Bureau how to prepare it, and they said it requires water from the Qutang Gorge. Qutang is in Shu—I almost sent someone there...”

I tried to send it, but it wasn’t convenient, and I was also worried that the person tasked with delivering it might not put in enough effort. Since Zizhan is from my hometown, if you could arrange for it to be sent easily, perhaps by boat along the Qutang Gorge, and include a jar of it for me, then in my old age, I would owe everything to Zizhan.”

Dongpo accepted the request and returned to Xiangguo Temple.

The next day, he bid farewell to the court and set off for Huangzhou. The officials there knew that Dongpo was a renowned talent in the land, and since he was a scholar demoted from the imperial court, they went out to welcome him at the city gates. They chose an auspicious day to have him take up his post in the government office. It was not until a month later that his family arrived.

In Huangzhou, Dongpo became friends with Chen Jichang, a man from Sichuan. They spent their time climbing mountains, enjoying the waters, drinking wine, and composing poems; they paid no attention to military affairs or local affairs at all. Time passed quickly, and almost a year had gone by. After the Double Ninth Festival, there were strong winds for several days. One day when the wind stopped, Dongpo was sitting in his study when he suddenly thought, “The abbot of Dinghui Temple once gave me several varieties of yellow chrysanthemums. I should go and admire them in the back garden today.” Before he could even get up, Chen Jichang came to visit. Dongpo was overjoyed and invited him to go to the back garden together to see the chrysanthemums. When they arrived at the chrysanthemum bed, they saw nothing but golden petals on the ground—no flowers left on the branches. Dongpo was stunned and speechless for a long time. Chen Jichang asked, “Why are you so surprised to see the chrysanthemum petals fallen?” Dongpo replied, “Jichang, you don’t know everything. Usually, these flowers just dry up and wither without their petals falling. Last year, at Wang Jinggong’s residence, I read two lines from his poem about chrysanthemums: ‘Last night the west wind swept through the garden, scattering yellow flowers like gold all over the ground.’ I thought the old man was mistaken, so I wrote two more lines: ‘Autumn flowers don’t fall like spring flowers; tell the poet to ponder this carefully.’ But I never knew that chrysanthemums in Huangzhou actually do shed their petals! It seems the old man exiled me to Huangzhou just so I could see these chrysanthemums.” Chen Jichang laughed and said, “The ancients said well: ‘It’s better not to speak much about worldly matters; even if you meet people, just nod your head. If you don’t even nod, you’ll have no worries or troubles in life.’”

Dongpo said, “When I was first exiled, I thought Jinggong hated me and was avenging himself by pointing out my faults. Who knew he was right and I was wrong? Even those with great wisdom can make mistakes, let alone others! We must remember not to judge or laugh at others lightly. As the saying goes, every mistake teaches us something new.” Dongpo ordered his servants to bring wine, and they sat on the ground beneath the fallen petals, drinking together. While they were drinking, someone reported that Governor Ma was coming to visit. Dongpo instructed them to turn him away. That day, the two of them drank and chatted leisurely until evening before parting.

The next day, Dongpo wrote a letter of reply to Governor Ma, who came out to greet him. At that time, there was no guest house, so they sat separately in the back hall. After drinking tea, Dongpo recounted how last year he had made a mistake in his poem about chrysanthemums, offending Jinggong. Governor Ma smiled and said, “I’ve just arrived here and didn’t know about the chrysanthemums in Huangzhou…”

Falling petals. Only after seeing it once did I believe it. It’s clear that the Grand Tutor possesses profound knowledge and an ambition to encompass everything under heaven. The Scholar momentarily overlooked this and remained unaware; why not go to the Grand Tutor’s residence in the capital to apologize? Surely he would turn his anger into joy.” Dongpo said, “I also wish to go, but regret having no way.” The governor said, “There will be an opportunity in the future, though I dare not ask too much of you.” Dongpo asked what it was. The governor replied, “By custom, on the Winter Solstice, a congratulatory memorial must be sent to the capital, and a local official is usually assigned for this task. If the Scholar does not mind such a trivial matter, using it as an excuse to go to the capital would be good.” Dongpo said, “Thanks to your kindness, I am willing to go.” The governor said, “For this memorial, I can only rely on the Scholar’s excellent writing skills.” Dongpo agreed.

After parting with Governor Ma, he returned to the office and remembered Jing Gong’s request to obtain water from the Qutang Gorge. At first, he was reluctant and ignored this task. Now, however, he wanted to help carry out this task to atone for his false words. But this matter couldn’t be entrusted lightly to others. His wife was ill at the time, so he had to think carefully. Since he accepted the governor’s kind offer, it would be better to take leave to send his family back, thereby obtaining water from the Qutang Gorge, which would serve both purposes. From Huangzhou to Meizhou, it’s a short distance across water, and the route goes through the Qutang Gorges. Those three gorges are: Xiling Gorge, Wu Gorge, and Gui Gorge. Xiling Gorge is the upper gorge, Wu Gorge is the middle gorge, and Gui Gorge is the lower gorge. Xiling Gorge is also called Qutang Gorge, located east of Lingzhou Prefecture. The two cliffs stand opposite each other, with a river flowing through the middle. Yanyu Dui lies at the entrance, serving as the gateway to the three gorges. That’s why they’re collectively called the Qutang Three Gorges. These three gorges together stretch over 700 li, with continuous mountains on both banks, towering peaks that obscure the sky and sun. There’s no north-south wind, only up-and-down currents. From Huangzhou to Meizhou, the total distance is over 4,000 li, with Kuizhou being halfway along. Dongpo calculated, “If I send my family straight to Meizhou, the return journey will be over ten thousand li, delaying the winter congratulatory memorial. I have an idea now—to fulfill both personal and official duties. I’ll send my family by land to Kuizhou, then let them return on their own. I’ll take a boat from Kuizhou down the gorge, obtain water from the middle gorge, and return to Huangzhou before heading to the capital. Wouldn’t that fulfill both duties?” After making up his mind, he told his wife, packed their belongings, and bid farewell to Governor Ma. A notice of leave was hung in the office. Choosing an auspicious day, he prepared vehicles and servants, and the whole family set off. There were no problems along the way, needless to say. Just after passing Yiling Prefecture, they reached Gaotang County. The post riders brought good news—Kuizhou was ahead.

When Dongpo arrived in Kuizhou, he parted ways with his wife. He entrusted a capable housekeeper to take good care of her on the return journey. Dongpo rented a riverboat and set sail from Kuizhou downstream. Yanyu Dui is actually a solitary rock at the mouth of the river, standing upright by itself. It sinks in summer and emerges in winter. When the water rises and covers the rock, boatmen lose their sense of direction, which is why it’s also called Youyu Dui. As the saying goes: “If Youyu is as big as an elephant, one cannot go up the Qutang Gorge. If Youyu is as big as a horse, one cannot go down the Qutang Gorge.”

After the Double Ninth Festival, Dongpo got up; it was still the period between autumn and winter. That year there was an intercalary eighth month, so the seasonal changes came a month late, meaning the water flow remained strong. When going upstream, the boat moved very slowly, but when going downstream, it moved swiftly. On his way there, Dongpo was worried about delays, so he abandoned the boat and traveled by land. On his return, he took advantage of the strong current, traveling smoothly for thousands of miles. Seeing the sheer cliffs and the surging waves, Dongpo wanted to write an essay titled “Ode to the Three Gorges,” but he couldn’t formulate its structure. Due to days of travel on horseback, exhausted, he leaned on the desk to think, eventually falling asleep without instructing the sailors to draw water. When he woke up and asked about the progress, they had already passed the middle gorge. Dongpo ordered, “I want water from the middle gorge—quickly turn the boat around.” The sailor replied, “Sir, the three gorges are connected, with water flowing like a waterfall and the boat moving like an arrow. If we turn back, we’ll be going against the current, covering only a few miles per day, which is extremely difficult.” Dongpo pondered for a while then asked, “Is it possible to moor the boat here? Are there any residents?” The sailor answered, “In the upper two gorges, there are steep cliffs where the boat cannot stop. But in the returning gorge, the terrain becomes flatter, and soon there will be streets and markets on the cliffs.” Dongpo ordered the boat to be moored and instructed his servant, “Go up the cliff to find an elderly resident and bring one here quietly, without causing a disturbance.” The servant obeyed. After a short time, he brought an old man aboard, who bowed as a resident. Dongpo comforted him with kind words, saying, “I am just a passing traveler with no connection to your residents. I have a question: among the Three Gorges of Qutang, which one has the best water?” The old man replied, “The three gorges are connected, with no separation. Water flows from the upper gorge to the middle gorge, and from there to the lower gorge, day and night without pause. The water is all the same; it’s hard to distinguish which is best.” Dongpo thought to himself, “Jinggong is being stubborn. Since the three gorges are connected and the water is the same everywhere, why must it be the middle gorge?” He ordered his men to pay the local people to buy a clean ceramic jar, then stood at the bow of the boat as the sailors filled it with water from the lower gorge. He sealed it with soft parchment, stamped it personally, and set sail immediately. He arrived in Huangzhou to pay his respects to Governor Ma. That night, he drafted a congratulatory letter for the winter season and sent it to the governor’s office. After reading it, Governor Ma highly praised Su Dongpo’s talent. He then officially recorded Su Dongpo’s name, chose an auspicious day, and bid Dongpo farewell.

With the letter and a jar of water from Shu, Dongpo rushed to the capital through the night and returned to the Daxiangguo Temple. It was still early, so he ordered his men to carry the jar of water and rode to the governor’s residence to see Jinggong. Jinggong was sitting leisurely when he heard a messenger announce, “Mr. Su, the military commander of Huangzhou, requests an audience.” Jinggong smiled and said, “It’s been a year already!” He instructed the gatekeeper, “Let him come in slowly and lead him to the eastern study.” The gatekeeper obeyed. Jinggong first went to the study and saw the poems posted on the pillars, covered in dust over the years. He personally took a duster from the swallow-tail bottle to clear the dust, restoring them to their original state. Then Jinggong sat down in the study.

Meanwhile, the gatekeeper delayed for quite some time before inviting Mr. Su in. Hearing that he would meet in the eastern study, Dongpo remembered the place where he had revised his poem and felt embarrassed. Reluctantly, he entered the residence and bowed to Jinggong in the study. Jinggong...

They held hands and said, “Let’s not meet in the hall; I’m afraid of the hardships on such a long journey. There’s no need for formalities.” They ordered a child to fetch seats. Dongpo sat down and secretly glanced at the poem draft, then pasted it across from him. Duke Jing pointed to the left with his dustpan and said, “Zizhan, see how time flies? You wrote this poem last year, and another year has passed!” Dongpo got up and knelt on the ground. Duke Jing held him up with his hand and asked, “Why, Zizhan?” Dongpo replied, “Your humble student deserves to be punished!” Duke Jing said, “Have you seen the fallen petals of chrysanthemums in Huangzhou?” Dongpo answered, “Yes.” Duke Jing said, “You haven’t seen this kind before; no wonder, Zizhan!” Dongpo said, “Your humble student is ignorant and shallow-minded; I rely entirely on your forgiveness, my esteemed teacher.” After drinking tea, Duke Jing asked, “I’ve asked you to bring water from the Qutang Middle Gorge. Do you have it?” Dongpo said, “It’s outside the office.”

Duke Jing ordered two officials waiting in the hall to carry the water jar into the study. He personally wiped it clean with his sleeve and opened the paper seal. He ordered a child to keep a fire going in the tea stove and use a silver kettle to boil the water. First, he took a white porcelain bowl and put a pinch of Yangxian tea inside. When the water reached the consistency of crab eyes, he quickly poured it in. The color of the tea became visible only after some time. Duke Jing asked, “Where was this water taken from?” Dongpo replied, “Wugai Gorge.” Duke Jing said, “That’s the Middle Gorge.” Dongpo confirmed, “Exactly.” Duke Jing laughed and said, “You’re deceiving me again! This is water from the Lower Gorge. How can you claim it’s from the Middle Gorge?” Dongpo was shocked and recounted what the locals said: “The Three Gorges are connected, and the water is the same everywhere.” “Your humble student misheard and actually used water from the Lower Gorge! How can your excellence tell the difference?” Duke Jing said, “A scholar must not act rashly; one must observe carefully. If I hadn’t gone to Huangzhou myself and seen the chrysanthemums, how could I dare mention fallen yellow petals in my poem? The characteristics of the water from Qutang are described in the ‘Supplementary Notes to the Water Classic.’ The water in the Upper Gorge is too rapid, while that in the Lower Gorge is too slow. Only the water in the Middle Gorge has a moderate flow. The physicians in the Imperial Medical Academy are skilled doctors; they knew I had a disorder related to the middle energizer, so they used water from the Middle Gorge to address it. When this water is used to brew Yangxian tea, the taste from the Upper Gorge is strong, that from the Lower Gorge is weak, while that from the Middle Gorge falls between the two. Since the color of the tea took some time to appear, I know it’s from the Lower Gorge.” Dongpo left his seat to apologize.

Duke Jing said, “What crime is there? It’s all because Zizhan is too clever, leading to such carelessness. I happened to have nothing to do today, and it’s fortunate that Zizhan came to visit. We’ve been getting along for a while, yet I still don’t know how truly learned Zizhan really is. Without overestimating myself, I want to test Zizhan.” Dongpo gladly replied, “Your humble student awaits your question.” Duke Jing said, “Wait! If I were to test you suddenly, it would only show that I’m relying on my seniority. Zizhan, why don’t you test me first, and then I’ll ask for your guidance.” Dongpo bowed and said, “How dare your humble student?” Duke Jing said, “Since Zizhan refuses to test me, I shouldn’t be presumptuous. Well then, have Xu Lun open all the bookshelves in the study for me. There are twenty-four shelves in total, all filled with books. You may take one book from any of the three layers—upper, middle, or lower—and read one sentence from it. If I can’t answer the next sentence, it means I’m unlearned.” Dongpo thought to himself, “This old man is so pedantic. Does he really remember all these books by heart? Even if so…”

“It’s not appropriate to test him like this.” He replied, “This humble student dares not!” Jing Gong said, “Ah! Isn’t it true that ‘obedience is better than courtesy’?” Dongpo played along, choosing a book with lots of dust on it, assuming it hadn’t been looked at in ages and had been forgotten. He randomly picked a book, saw no title on it, flipped it open, and casually read a line: “Is Your Majesty happy?” Jing Gong immediately replied, “‘I have already eaten him.’ Is that correct?” Dongpo said, “Exactly.” Jing Gong took the book and asked, “What does this line mean?” Dongpo hadn’t read the book carefully. He thought to himself, “The Tang people mocked Empress Wu; they once referred to Xue Ao Cao as ‘Your Majesty.’ Perhaps someone sent a message of greeting, using those words. But the next line says, ‘I have already eaten him,’ which doesn’t logically follow from what came before.” After pondering for a while, he thought, “Better not provoke this old man. It’s better to be honest than to make things up.” He replied, “This humble student doesn’t know.” Jing Gong said, “It’s not some secret knowledge—how can you not know? It’s a small story. During the reign of Emperor Ling at the end of the Han Dynasty, behind Wugang Mountain in Changsha Commandery, there was a fox den several zhang deep, containing two nine-tailed foxes. Over time, they both learned to transform, often turning into beautiful women. When they encountered passing men, they lured them into the den for pleasure. If something didn’t satisfy them, they would divide the man and eat him. Later, there was a man named Liu Shi who was skilled in herbal gathering. He entered the mountain to collect herbs and was captured by the two demons. One night, when they sought pleasure, Liu Shi used his skills in controlling fire, and between the pillows and bedding, the two foxes became delighted and called him ‘Your Majesty.’ When the larger fox went out of the mountain to hunt, the smaller one stayed behind to guard. When the smaller fox went out, the larger one did the same. As time passed, they grew careless. After drinking wine, they revealed their true forms. Liu Shi became terrified and exhausted. One day, when the larger fox was out hunting and the smaller one was in the den, it demanded sexual intercourse but wasn’t satisfied. The smaller fox became furious and ate Liu Shi inside its belly. When the larger fox returned to the den, remembering Liu Shi, it asked, ‘Is Your Majesty happy?’ The smaller fox replied, ‘I have already eaten him.’ The two foxes fought and chased each other, causing chaos throughout the mountain. A woodcutter overheard this and recorded it in the ‘Complete Records of the End of the Han Dynasty.’ Zizhan, have you come across this story?” Dongpo said, “Your Excellency has profound knowledge; it’s beyond the reach of a mere learner like me!”

Jing Gong smiled and said, “This also counts as testing me. I’ll return to my seat, but I still want to test Zizhan too. Don’t be stingy with your knowledge!” Dongpo said, “Please give me an easy question, Your Excellency.” Jing Gong said, “Let’s test something else. You say I’m making things difficult. I’ve long heard that Zizhan is good at composing antithetical couplets. This year, there was an intercalary eighth month; spring began in the first month and again in the twelfth month—two springs in total. I’ll use this as a topic, giving you a line to match, to see your talent.” He ordered a servant to bring paper and pen. Jing Gong wrote a pair of lines: “One year with two springs and two eights-months—twice the spring and autumn in the world.” Though Dongpo was talented, these lines were quite unusual, and he couldn’t think of a matching pair right away, his face turning red with embarrassment. Jing Gong asked, “On your way from Huzhou to Huangzhou, could you pass through Suzhou and Runzhou?” Dongpo said, “That’s the shortest route.” Jing Gong said, “Outside Jinhan Gate in Suzhou, up to Tiger Hill, this area is called Shantang, about seven li long, with Half Pond halfway along. Runzhou’s ancient name was Tieweng City, located by the great river, with Golden Mountain, Silver Mountain, and Jade Mountain—these are called the Three Mountains, all with Buddhist temples.”

“The monk’s quarters… I suppose Zizhan must have visited them as well?” Dongpo replied, “Yes.” Jinggong said, “I will give Suzhou and Runzhou one pair each; I hope Zizhan can come up with responses. Suzhou’s response is: ‘Seven-li Mountain Pond, half a pond away, three and a half li.’ Runzhou’s response is: ‘West of Tieweng City, a land of the three treasures—gold, jade, and silver.’” When Dongpo tried hard to think of responses, he couldn’t come up with any, so he had no choice but to apologize and leave. Jinggong realized Dongpo had been humiliated, but still valued his talent. The next day, he reported this to Emperor Shenzong, who restored Dongpo to his position as a Hanlin Academician.

Later generations commented on this story: “Even with Dongpo’s genius, he was humiliated three times by Jinggong. What more of those whose talents are inferior to Dongpo’s!” Thus they composed a poem as a warning: Xiang Tuo was once Confucius’s teacher, yet Jinggong dismissed Zizhan. Humility should be the foremost virtue in life; learning is endless. Volume 4: The Regent’s Resentment at Banshan Hall.

Seize the time, prolong it. Find joy, and enjoy it. Everything is determined by fate—why worry endlessly? Keep your mind open, don’t be narrow-minded. The rise and fall of dynasties through the ages cannot be fully understood. The splendor of Jin Gu is but dust before one’s eyes; the achievements of Huaiyin are stained with blood. At Lintong, courage fades; in Danyang, the sound of the flute ceases. When fortune favors, even weak grass outshines spring flowers; when fortune turns, even fine gold is inferior to rough iron. Living carefree and happy is convenient, but only in old age does one truly understand its true taste. Simple clothes and plain food suffice for a decent life, allowing one to live a simple existence.

Having introduced the topic without delving into the main content, let’s consider these four lines from Tang poetry: “The Duke of Zhou feared rumors; Wang Mang pretended humility toward his subordinates. If they had died back then, who would have known the truth from falsehood in their lives?”

This poem generally speaks of the fact that people’s characters can be genuine or false—one must recognize the good in those who are evil and the evil in those who are good. The first line refers to the Duke of Zhou. His surname was Ji, and his name was Dan. He was the younger son of King Wen of Zhou. Possessing great virtue, he assisted his elder brother, King Wu, in conquering the Shang dynasty, establishing the Zhou dynasty’s rule that lasted eight hundred years. When King Wu fell ill, the Duke of Zhou prepared an inscription to offer to heaven, willing to take his place. He hid the inscription in a golden box, unknown to anyone. After King Wu’s death, the crown prince, King Cheng, was still young. The Duke of Zhou held King Cheng in his arms as he met with the various lords. His half-brothers, Guan Shu and Cai Shu, plotted rebellion, jealous of the Duke of Zhou, and spread rumors claiming he was oppressing the young king and seeking to seize power. King Cheng became suspicious. The Duke of Zhou resigned from his position and retreated to the eastern regions, living in fear. One day, a fierce wind and thunder struck, breaking open the golden box. King Cheng saw the inscription and realized the Duke of Zhou’s loyalty. He invited him back to take his position again, executed Guan Shu and Cai Shu, and the Zhou dynasty was saved from danger. If Guan Shu and Cai Shu’s rumors had started earlier, and the Duke of Zhou had died of illness before the box could be opened and King Cheng’s doubts resolved, who would have been able to set things right? Why do later generations treat good people as evil ones? The second line refers to Wang Mang. His courtesy name was Jujun; he was the uncle of Emperor Ping of the Western Han dynasty. A deceitful man, relying on his favoritism in the imperial harem and his power as prime minister, he secretly harbored ambitions to seize control of the Han dynasty. Fearing resistance from the people, he pretended to be humble and showed respect for the virtuous.

Wang Mang pretended to uphold justice and exaggerated his achievements. A total of 487,512 people across the provinces and counties praised his merits. Realizing that people’s hearts were inclined toward him, he poisoned Emperor Ping, deposed the empress dowager, and declared himself emperor. He changed the country’s name to Xin, and ruled for eighteen years. It wasn’t until Liu Wenshu in Nanyang raised an army to restore the Han dynasty that Wang Mang was executed. If Wang Mang had died eighteen years earlier, wouldn’t he have been remembered as a virtuous prime minister with an impeccable reputation in history? Wouldn’t that mean treating a villain as a good person? Hence the ancients said, “Time reveals people’s true nature,” and also, “Judgment is made only after death.” One should not judge someone as a gentleman based on temporary praise, nor as a scoundrel based on temporary slander. There’s a poem to prove this: Never heed praise or criticism; right and wrong will eventually become clear. Those who blindly believe others’ words will later face criticism.

Take a prime minister from a past dynasty—when he was in lower positions, he indeed had a good reputation. But once he gained power, he acted arbitrarily, committed mistakes, and became the subject of widespread condemnation, dying in regret. If he had died during his time of fame, people would have mourned deeply, saying the country was unfortunate for losing such a good person who couldn’t fully utilize his talents. Yet he still left a name for future generations. But by the time he faced widespread condemnation, it was already too late to do anything. Wasn’t that just living a few extra years for nothing? Who was that prime minister? In which dynasty? It was not too ancient nor too recent—during the reign of Emperor Shenzong of the Northern Song Dynasty. There was a prime minister named Wang Anshi, from Linchuan. He was extremely learned, capable of writing ten lines at a glance and having read tens of thousands of books. Renowned officials like Wen Yanbo, Ouyang Xiu, Zeng Gong, and Han Qi all admired his talent. At just twenty years old, he became famous. Initially appointed as the magistrate of Yinxian County in Qingyuan Prefecture, Zhejiang, he brought benefits and eliminated harms, earning great acclaim. Later promoted to deputy governor of Yangzhou, he would read books all night without sleeping. By the time it was already late, hearing that the governor was holding court, he would go without even washing his face. The governor at that time was Han Wei Gong, named Han Qi. Seeing Wang Anshi’s dirty face, knowing he hadn’t washed himself, Han Qi suspected he had drunk overnight and advised him to study harder. Wang Anshi thanked him without arguing. Later, Han Qi learned that he had been reading all night and was even more impressed by his diligence. He was then promoted to governor of Jiangning Prefecture, where his reputation grew even more, reaching the emperor’s ears. Truly, good beginnings led to misfortunes later on.

Emperor Shenzong, eager to improve governance, heard of Wang Anshi’s virtue and summoned him as a Hanlin scholar. When the emperor asked him about methods of governance, Wang Anshi replied with the principles of Yao and Shun, much to the emperor’s delight. Within two years, he was appointed prime minister and granted the title of Duke of Jing. The entire court celebrated as if Zhou Gong and Yu the Great had returned. Only Li Chengzhi noticed that Wang Anshi’s eyes were covered in white spots and claimed he had the appearance of a treacherous person who would one day disrupt the world. Su Dongpo, seeing Wang Anshi’s dirty clothes and his failure to wash his face for months, thought he was insensitive and wrote “On Discerning Treachery” to criticize him. These two people had their own opinions—who would believe them? Needless to say.

Once Anshi became prime minister, he became close to Emperor Shenzong, who followed his advice wholeheartedly, and Anshi resolved to implement a set of new laws. So, what were those new laws? The Agricultural Law, Water Conservancy Law, Green Sprout Law, Equal Transport Law, Baojia Law, Tax Exemption Law, Market Regulation Law, Horse Protection Law, Square Field Law, and Travel Exemption Law. He listened solely to a petty man named Lü Huiqing and his son Wang Peng, who discussed matters day and night, dismissed loyal officials, and refused to accept honest advice. Grievances spread among the people, and natural disasters occurred frequently. Jinggong thought he was right and further proposed the theory of “three insufficiencies” – heavenly mandates need not be feared, public opinion need not be taken seriously, and ancestral laws need not be obeyed. Due to his stubborn nature and firm determination, even Buddhas and bodhisattvas could not persuade him to change, so people called him “the Stubborn Prime Minister.” Many prominent officials such as Wen Yanbo and Han Qi, who had initially praised his ideas, later regretted their words and submitted petitions to argue against them. He ignored them, resigned from office, and became even more determined to uphold the new laws. Traditional systems were changed repeatedly, leaving the common people unemployed.

One day, his beloved son Wang Peng died from gangrene. Jinggong was deeply saddened. He summoned monks from all over to hold a 49-day ritual to pray for the soul of his deceased son, and he personally participated in the ceremonies. On the 49th day, after the rituals were completed and it was already past midnight, Jinggong was burning incense in prayer when he suddenly fainted on the prayer mat. Those around him tried to wake him but failed. It wasn’t until dawn that he regained consciousness, saying, “Amazing! Amazing!” They helped him back inside.

The Lady of Wu ordered her maids to bring him to her private chamber to ask what had happened. With tears in his eyes, Jinggong said, “During my fainting spell, I vaguely went to a place that resembled a grand government office, with its doors still closed. I saw my son Wang Peng wearing heavy shackles weighing about a hundred pounds, struggling under their weight. His hair was disheveled, his face dirty, and his body covered in blood. He stood outside the door, crying to me and telling me of his suffering. He said, ‘The underworld believes that since my father has held high positions for so long without doing good deeds, being stubborn and willful, and implementing new laws like the Green Sprout Law that harm the country and its people, resentment has reached the heavens. I unfortunately lost my life prematurely and am suffering greatly; even rituals cannot relieve this suffering. Father should repent soon and stop being greedy for wealth and status...’ Before he could finish speaking, someone shouted to open the door, and I woke up in shock.” The lady said, “It’s better to believe it exists than not. I’ve also heard many people outside blaming you. Why don’t you step down bravely? Leaving one day earlier means avoiding one day of curses.”

Following his wife’s advice, Jinggong submitted more than a dozen petitions stating he was ill and requesting to resign. When the emperor heard public opinion, he too grew tired of the situation and agreed to his request, appointing him as the governor of Jiangning Prefecture. Thus, during the Song Dynasty, whenever a prime minister resigned, they would be given an external position where they could live off their stipend without having to handle affairs. Jinggong was very pleased at the idea of living in Jiangning, a place with ancient historical significance as the capital of the Six Dynasties, featuring beautiful landscapes and prosperous people, making it suitable for a comfortable retirement. Before he left, his wife gave him all the jewelry, clothes, and treasures she had in her room.

He spent thousands of coins in donations to various monasteries and temples for rituals and incense burning, to benefit the soul of his deceased son, Wang Peng. He chose a day to leave court, and all officials came to see him off. Jing Gong feigned illness and did not meet with anyone. There was a trusted official in his household named Jiang Ju, who was very skillful at handling such matters. Jing Gong took only this man along, along with servants and family members.

There were water routes from Dongjing to Jinling, so Jing Gong did not use official boats but traveled incognito. He boarded a small boat and sailed downstream along the Yellow River. Just before setting sail, Jing Gong called Jiang Ju and the servants together and instructed them, “Although I was once a prime minister, I have now resigned and returned home. Along the way, wherever we stop for rest, if anyone asks me my name, surname, or position, you must say I am just a passing traveler. Do not tell them the truth, for fear that it might alert the local authorities, who might come to welcome or escort us, or assign guards, causing inconvenience to the locals. If this is leaked, it will be because you are exploiting local customs to steal from the people. If I find out, I will punish you severely.” Everyone replied, “We will obey your orders.” Jiang Ju asked, “Since Your Excellency is traveling incognito, what if someone among us fails to recognize your status and speaks ill of you?” Jing Gong said, “As the saying goes, ‘A prime minister’s belly is big enough to support a boat.’ People’s words should not be taken seriously. Those who speak well of me need not bring me joy; those who speak ill of me need not make me angry. Just let it pass by like wind, and don’t get involved.” Jiang Ju accepted the order and informed the sailors as well. From then on, there were no problems on the water route.

Before long, after more than twenty days, they arrived in the area around Zhongli. Jing Gong already suffered from phlegm-related ailments. After staying on the boat for many days, feeling depressed, his condition worsened. He wanted to disembark and explore the local markets to relieve his sorrow. He instructed his steward, “Jinling is not far from here. Please take good care of my family. You can travel by water via Guabu and Huaiyang to cross the river, while I will come by land. We’ll meet at the mouth of the river in Jinling.”

Anshi sent his family off by boat, taking only two servants and his trusted official Jiang Ju—four people in total—to go ashore. Due to the chaos caused by boats and vehicles on land and water, travelers coming from north and south were hindered. Jiang Ju asked, “Since Your Excellency is traveling by land, he will need to walk. Should we use an official document to arrange transportation from the county post office, or should we pay to hire one ourselves?” Jing Gong said, “I’ve already instructed that we must not alert the authorities. We’ll just hire one ourselves.” Jiang Ju replied, “If we hire one ourselves, we need to find a provider.”

The servants carried their belongings, and Jiang Ju led Jing Gong to a transport agency. The owner welcomed them and asked, “Where would you like to go, sir?” Jing Gong replied, “I want to go to Jiangning. I need a sedan chair or three donkeys or horses to set off right away.” The owner said, “Things aren’t what they used to be; we can’t rush things!” Jing Gong asked why. The owner replied, “It’s hard to explain! Ever since that stubborn prime minister took power and introduced new laws, it has caused financial losses and harmed the people. Many families have fled. Even if a few poor families remain, they’re too busy dealing with officials to have time to hire laborers. Besides, the people are poor and have no money to feed themselves, let alone keep horses or donkeys.”

A few heads, but it won’t do either. Please sit firmly, sir; I’ll go look for them for you. If I find them, don’t be too happy; if not, don’t blame me. It will just cost twice as much as usual!” Jiang Ju asked, “Who is that stubborn man?” The host replied, “His name is Wang Anshi. I hear he has a pair of white eyes. Evil people surely have an evil appearance.” Duke Jing lowered his eyelids and told Jiang Ju not to meddle in other people’s affairs.

The host was gone for a long time before returning and saying, “The sedan bearers will only allow two of you; even if you want three, it won’t work. There are no replacements, so you’ll have to pay the price for four bearers. There are no horses; only one mule and an ass were found. They’ll arrive at my inn at dawn tomorrow. When you set off, you can give them some silver.” Having heard so many harsh words before, Duke Jing grew impatient and wanted to set off right away. He thought, “Even with just two bearers, we can move slowly. But with one less animal, there’s no choice but to let Jiang Ju ride one, and the other one can be taken turns by the two bearers.” He instructed Jiang Ju to let the host set the price without arguing over it. Jiang Ju then paid the host the agreed amount in silver.

It was still early in the day. Unable to stay indoors at the host’s place, Duke Jing called his servant and went out into the streets to stroll around. Indeed, the market was deserted, with few shops. Deeply saddened, he walked to a tea house that seemed quite clean. As he entered, just as he was about to order tea, he saw a quatrain written on the wall: “The ancestral system was extremely detailed, bringing peace and prosperity for over a hundred years. Those with white eyes are stubborn for no reason, causing chaos and disrupting human relations.”

The inscription below read, “A work of a nameless man lamenting the world.” Duke Jing remained silent, losing even his desire to drink tea, and hurriedly left. After walking a few hundred more steps, he saw a Taoist temple. He thought, “Let’s go take a look to pass the time.” Entering the main gate, he saw three shrines. Just as he was about to pay his respects, before stepping inside, he saw a piece of yellow paper stuck on the red wall, with verses on it: “Five leaves bring peace and prosperity; why does the prime minister insist on causing chaos? Since Yao and Shun should be followed as models, one should emulate the ways of Yi and Zhou to assist the wise ruler. All old officials are dismissed to remote places, while new laws harm the common people. Reflecting on living in comfort, I first lament the cry of the cuckoo by the Tianjin River.”

During the reign of Emperor Yingzong, there was a sage named Shao Yong, also known as Yao Fu. He was expert in mathematics and had profound knowledge. He named his residence “Anle Wo” (Comfortable Nest). He often visited the Tianjin Bridge in Luoyang with guests. Hearing the cry of the cuckoo, he would exclaim, “From now on, the world will be in chaos!” When guests asked why, Yao Fu replied, “When the world is about to be governed well, the earth’s energy flows from north to south; when it’s about to be chaotic, it flows from south to north. There used to be no cuckoos in Luoyang, but now they suddenly appear—this is a sign that the earth’s energy is flowing from south to north. Soon, the emperor will appoint someone from the south as prime minister, changing the ancestral laws, and peace will never return during the Song dynasty.” This omen clearly applied to Wang Anshi. Duke Jing recited the poem silently once and then asked the priest in charge of the incense: “Who wrote this poem? Is there no signature?” The priest replied, “A few days ago, there was…”

His companion came here to ask for paper to write a poem, which was then stuck on the wall, said to be an insult directed at that stubborn husband. Jing Gong removed the poem from the wall, hid it in his sleeve, and left in silence. Back at the host’s house, he spent a gloomy night.

At the fifth drumbeat, when the roosters crowed, two servants and a porter arrived, leading a donkey and a mule. Jing Gong, who wasn’t particular about grooming himself, got into the sedan chair. Jiang Ju rode the mule, while the donkey and the servant took turns riding it. After traveling about forty li, around noon, they reached a village. Jiang Ju dismounted from the mule, stepped forward, and said, “Sir, it’s time to take medicine.” Jing Gong, suffering from phlegm-related ailments, carried with him items such as lung-clearing cakes, pills, and tea cakes. He instructed his men, “Bring me a pot of boiling water; you can eat first.” Jing Gong mixed the boiling water with tea and ate some snacks. While the others were still eating, Jing Gong saw a latrine beside the house, fetched a piece of paper, and went over there. On the earthen wall of the latrine, there were eight lines of poetry written in white lime: “I first learned of Yin County before it was promoted, when I was praised for a reputation I didn’t deserve. Su Lao recognized deceit early on; Li Cheng reported it long before it happened. The virtuous were dismissed to give way to those who wielded power arbitrarily, and the frivolous were brought in, laying the foundation for disaster. I hate most those false words—their poisonous influence lingers for a thousand years.”

Jing Gong climbed onto the structure, waited for a moment, then took off one of his square shoes with his left foot and smeared the soles against the earthen wall to blur the writing before stopping. By then, the others had finished eating. Jing Gong got back into the sedan chair and continued on. After another twenty li, they encountered an inn. Jiang Ju said, “This official inn is spacious enough for us to stay overnight.” Jing Gong replied, “What did I tell you guys yesterday? Staying at an inn will surely attract questions. Let’s go back to the previous village and find a quiet household to stay at—that will be safer.” They traveled another five li until dusk. They arrived at a village house with bamboo fences and thatched roofs, its wooden door half-closed. Jing Gong asked Jiang Ju to go ahead and ask for lodging. Jiang Ju pushed the door open and entered. An old man came out, leaning on a staff, and asked why they had come. Jiang Ju said, “We are travelers who wish to stay at your place for the night; we’ll pay the usual fee.” The old man replied, “Just follow the officials wherever they wish to go.” Jiang Ju led Jing Gong inside to meet the host. The old man invited Jing Gong to sit down and, seeing Jiang Ju and the other two standing there, realizing they had status, invited them to sit in a separate room. The old man went to prepare food and tea. Jing Gong looked at the freshly painted wall and saw a long poem written there, which read: “Those who claim their writings are naturally gifted are actually just pretenders; those with twisted knowledge are despised. Insisting that the ‘quail punishment’ is the right method is not the right path; mistaking fish bait for real food is not true sincerity. Good plans may fulfill one’s ambitions in life, but stubbornness only leaves a bad name after death. Only by seeing one’s deceased son suffer in hell does one truly understand that heaven’s justice is clear.”

After reading it, Jing Gong felt deeply saddened. After a while, the old man brought out food. Everyone ate their fill, and Jing Gong also had some. He asked the old man, “Who wrote the poem on the wall?” The old man replied, “It was written by passing travelers; their names are unknown.” Jing Gong bowed his head in thought: “I once argued that the ‘silk tie’ was the ‘quail punishment’ and that it was a mistake to eat fish bait—”

The man was quite aware of this. As for my deceased son suffering in the netherworld, I only told my wife about it; no one else knew. How then could this poem mention it? How strange, how strange!” Emperor Jinggong was struck by the last line of the poem, which hit his sore spot, leaving him filled with suspicion. He asked the old man, “How old are you?” The old man replied, “I’m seventy-eight years old.” Jinggong asked further, “How many sons do you have?” Tears streamed down the old man’s face as he said, “I had four sons, all of whom died. I live here alone with my old wife.” Jinggong asked, “Why did all four sons die?” The old man replied, “For the past ten years, we’ve suffered greatly under the new laws. My sons who went to serve in government either died there or on the way. I’m fortunate to be old enough to survive barely; if I were younger, I wouldn’t be alive either.” Jinggong asked in shock, “What’s so bad about the new laws that it’s come to this?” The old man said, “You can understand from the poem on the wall. Ever since the court appointed Wang Anshi as prime minister, they changed the ancestral systems, focusing solely on collecting taxes, ignoring warnings, suppressing truth, and promoting sycophants over the loyal. First, they introduced the Green Sprout Law to oppress farmers, followed by laws like Baojia, Zhuyi, Baoma, and Junyu—all confusing and numerous. The authorities exploited the people above while oppressing them below, constantly using force. Officials knocked at doors at night, preventing people from sleeping. Dozens each day abandoned their homes, taking wives and children to hide in the mountains. In this village, which once had over a hundred households, only eight or nine remain now. A poor family of sixteen people is left with just four!” With that, he wept bitterly.

Jinggong also felt sorrowful and asked, “Some say the new laws benefit the people. Since you say they don’t, I’d like to hear the details.” The old man said, “Wang Anshi is stubborn; people call him ‘the Stubborn Prime Minister.’ If someone says the laws are inconvenient, he gets angrily demoted. If they say they’re fine, he gets promoted. Those who claim the new laws benefit the people are all sycophants; in reality, they cause great harm to the people. Take the Baojia system, for example—each able-bodied man must train in the field, and another must serve day and night. Though training is supposed to happen every five days, those in charge gather at the training ground daily and won’t let them go unless bribed. If no bribe is given, they claim the man isn’t skilled enough and keep him detained, causing him to miss farming seasons and often dying of cold and hunger.” After speaking, he asked, “Where is that Stubborn Prime Minister now?” Jinggong reassured him, “He’s still serving as a prime minister in the court.” The old man spat on the ground and cursed, “Such a villain—if not executed, why keep him? Where’s justice? Why doesn’t the court appoint gentlemen like Han Qi, Fu Bi, Sima Guang, Lü Hui, and Su Shi instead of such a scoundrel!”

Jiang Ju and the others heard the loud arguments among the guests and came to see what was happening. Seeing the old man speaking so harshly, they scolded, “Old man, don’t speak recklessly. If Prime Minister Wang hears these words, your crime will be severe.” The old man angrily stood up, saying, “I’m nearly eighty—what fear do I have of death? If I see that villain, I’ll personally cut off his head, extract his heart and liver, and eat them. Even if I face death by fire or sword, I’ll have no regrets!” Everyone shrank back in fear. Jinggong’s face turned ashen; he didn’t dare respond. He stood up in the courtyard and said to Jiang Ju, “It’s as bright as day—we should hurry on our way.” Jiang Ju understood and went to pay the old man for his meal, arranging a sedan chair and horses. Jinggong raised his hand to bid farewell to the old man, who...

He said with a smile, “I call Wang Anshi a treacherous villain—what does that have to do with you? Why are you so upset and leaving? Could it be that you are close friends with Wang Anshi?” Jing Gong replied repeatedly, “No, no!” Jing Gong got into his carriage and ordered them to hurry along, with his attendants following as they traveled under the moonlight.

After traveling another ten miles, they arrived at a grove. There were only three thatched cottages, with no neighboring houses. Jing Gong said, “This place is quite secluded; it’s suitable for resting.” He ordered Jiang Ju to knock on the door. An old woman opened it. Jiang Ju explained that they were travelers who had missed their lodging and came to ask for shelter, promising to repay them soon. The old woman pointed to one of the cottages and said, “This one is empty; you can stay here. But it’s a small thatched house—there’s no space for the carriage or horses.” Jiang Ju said, “That’s fine; I have a solution.” Jing Gong got out of the carriage and entered the house. Jiang Ju instructed them to place the carriage under the eaves and the donkeys in the grove. Jing Gong sat inside and observed the old woman. She wore blue clothes, her hair was disheveled, and the thatched cottage had mud walls, but it was quite clean. The old woman brought a lamp, arranged everything for Jing Gong, and then went to sleep. Jing Gong saw some words written by the window. Taking the lamp, he read them—it was an eight-line poem. The poem read: “In life, he sought fame and glory; even in death, he remains deceitful, misleading the young. Having left no good words for the State of Wu, he instead spread empty words to deceive Ye Tao. Houses lie empty as people flee everywhere; for a thousand years, resentment lingers over the Green Sprout policy. Perhaps he passed by here to see it firsthand, adding more sorrow to his already white hair.”

Upon reading it, Jing Gong felt as if thousands of arrows pierced his heart—he was extremely unhappy. He thought, “Along the way, in tea houses, temples, and villages, there were poems mocking me. Even this old woman living alone has poems—this shows that complaints and insults are everywhere! The second couplet mentions ‘the State of Wu,’ referring to my wife. Ye Tao is my old friend. The meaning of these two lines is still unclear.” He wanted to call the old woman to ask, but heard snoring from next door. Jiang Ju and the others, exhausted from their journey, had all fallen asleep. Jing Gong tossed and turned, feeling remorseful. He thought, “I trusted what that man from Fujian said, claiming that the new policies were beneficial among the people. That’s why I followed them against everyone else’s advice. Who knew the resentment would be so great! It’s all because of that man from Fujian!” Lu Huiqing was from Fujian, which is why Jing Gong called him “the man from Fujian.” That night, Jing Gong sighed deeply, lay down in his clothes, unable to sleep. Tears wet his sleeves.

Just before dawn, the old woman got up, with her hair disheveled, along with a barefoot maid, and drove two pigs outside. The maid carried chaff, while the old woman fetched water, stirring it in a wooden basin while saying, “Come on, come on, dear pigs.” The pigs came to eat from the basin. The maid also called out to the chickens, “Wang Anshi is here!” All the chickens gathered.

Jiang Ju and the others were astonished. Jing Gong became even more unhappy. He asked the old woman, “Why do you call the chickens by such names?” The old woman replied, “Don’t you know that Wang Anshi is the current prime minister?”

Prime Minister? Is “Stubborn Prime Minister” his nickname? Ever since Wang Anshi became prime minister and introduced new laws to trouble the people, I have been a widow for twenty years, with no children or grandchildren, living only with a maid. Even two women like us have to pay taxes such as those for exemption from corvée labor and supplementary services. Once the money is paid, the obligations remain unchanged. I make a living growing mulberry and hemp; before the silkworms finish spinning, I have to borrow money for silk. Before the hemp can be processed, I have to borrow money for cloth. When the cultivation of mulberry and hemp fails, I have no choice but to raise pigs and chickens, waiting for the officials to come collect the tax money. Sometimes they are satisfied, sometimes they cook something to entertain them, while we never get to taste a piece of meat ourselves. That’s why the people harbor deep resentment toward these new laws. When raising chickens, they call them “Stubborn Prime Minister” and Wang Anshi, treating Wang Anshi like an animal. Since we can’t do anything to him in this life, in the next life we’ll turn him into some strange creature and cook him to satisfy our hatred!” Duke Jing secretly shed tears, not daring to speak. Those around him were astonished. Duke Jing’s expression changed; he asked for a mirror to look at himself and saw that his beard and hair were white, and his eyes were swollen. He felt heartbroken, realizing it was all due to his own worries. He thought of the line “One night of worry adds more white hairs to one’s temples”—wasn’t that true! He ordered Jiang Ju to give money to the old woman as thanks and then got ready to leave.

Jiang Ju went to the carriage and reported, “Your Excellency implements good policies throughout the land, but the ignorant common people misunderstand and resent them. We shouldn’t stay in the village house tonight; it’s better to return to the inn or official residence to avoid unnecessary troubles.” Although Duke Jing didn’t speak, he nodded in agreement. After traveling for a while, they arrived at an inn. Jiang Ju first dismounted from the donkey, helped Duke Jing out of the carriage, and led him into the inn to sit down, while preparing breakfast. Duke Jing saw two quatrains on the wall of the inn. The first read: “Fu Han Sima shows unwavering loyalty, offering earnest advice that goes unheard. He only serves as a confidant to Hui Qing, unaware that it was Feng Meng who killed Yi.” The second read: “He speaks grandly of morality, but who knows how many problems his reforms have caused? When his days are over and he fails, even ghosts will blame him—what sorrow remains?”

After reading them, Duke Jing became furious. He called the inn attendant and asked, “Who is this madman who dares to slander the government like this?” An old attendant replied, “It’s not just this inn; there are inscriptions everywhere.” Duke Jing asked, “Why were these poems written?” The old attendant said, “Because Wang Anshi introduced new laws that harm the people, so their hatred is deep-rooted. Recently, it was heard that Wang Anshi has resigned as prime minister and is now governing Jiangning Prefecture; he must pass through this route. Soon, hundreds of villagers will gather here nearby, waiting for his arrival.” Duke Jing asked, “Waiting for him? To pay him respects?” The old attendant laughed and said, “What need is there to pay respects to someone we hate? The common people will carry sticks and, when he arrives, kill him and divide his body among themselves.” Duke Jing was terrified. Without waiting for the food to be ready, he rushed out of the inn and got back into the carriage. Jiang Ju called everyone to follow. Along the way, they only bought dried food to stave off hunger. Duke Jing never left the carriage again and ordered them to hurry along the road.

Finally, he arrived in Jinling and met the Lady of Wu. Too ashamed to enter the city of Jiangning, he chose to live on the slopes of Zhongshan Mountain, naming his hall “Banshan Hall.” Duke Jing spent his time in Banshan Hall, studying scriptures and worshipping Buddha, hoping to atone for his sins.

He was originally an extremely intelligent person who could recite whatever he read; he remembered every word of the poems he encountered along the way. He secretly wrote them and showed them to Lady Wu, who then believed that her deceased son Wang Peng was indeed suffering in the netherworld, and it wasn’t by chance. Overwhelmed with worry and anger, his phlegm and heat became severe. Coupled with a blockage in his chest, he couldn’t eat or drink. After more than a year, he was on his deathbed, emaciated, sitting propped up on pillows. Lady Wu wept beside him and asked, “What kind of words do you wish me to pass on?” Jinggong replied, “The bond between husband and wife is merely coincidental. After I die, there’s no need for you to worry. Just distribute all our wealth and do many good deeds…” Before he could finish, someone reported that an old friend named Ye Tao had come to visit him. Lady Wu stepped aside. Jinggong invited Ye Tao to sit by his bed, took his hand, and instructed him, “You are exceptionally intelligent; you should read more Buddhist texts. Don’t write trivial writings that serve no purpose—useless and futile. I wasted my entire life striving to outdo others through writing. Now, as I am dying, I regret it deeply.” Ye Tao comforted him, “Your lifespan is still long ahead; why say such things?” Jinggong sighed, “Life and death are unpredictable. I fear that when my time comes, I won’t be able to speak, so today I’m telling you these things.” Ye Tao left. Suddenly, Jinggong remembered the second line of the poem from the old woman’s cottage: “Having no good words left for Lady Wu, yet I have empty words to deceive Ye Tao.” Today was exactly the day this line came true. Unconsciously, he stroked his thigh and sighed deeply, “Everything is predestined—it’s not by chance! The one who wrote this poem must be either a ghost or a deity. Otherwise, how could they know about my future? Being mocked like this by ghosts and deities, how can I live much longer in this world?”

A few days later, his illness worsened, and he began to delirium. He struck his cheeks with his hand and cursed himself, saying, “I have failed both the emperor above and the people below; my crime is unforgivable. How can I face Tang Zifang and the others in the afterlife?” He cursed like this for three days, vomiting blood several times before dying. Tang Zifang, whose name was Jie, was an upright official in the Song Dynasty who earnestly advised against the new laws. Since Su Shi wouldn’t listen, he too died from vomiting blood. His death was similar to Wang Anshi’s, though less famous. Even today, in mountainous areas, people still call pigs “stubborn officials.” Later generations attribute the decline of the Song Dynasty’s strength to the Xining Reforms, which led to the Jingkang disaster. There’s a poem to prove this: “Many petitions were made against the Xining Reforms, but stubbornness and selfishness could what be done? If not for this loss of strength, how could the invaders cross the Yellow River?” Another poem laments Jinggong’s talent: “What a brilliant old man, Jiefu! With great talent and integrity throughout his career. It’s a pity he ruined everything due to his high position; he should have stayed in the imperial academy his whole life.”

Volume 5: Lu Dalang Returns the Gold and Reunites Family

Mao Bao releases the turtle and hangs the great seal; Song Jiao crosses the ants to claim supremacy. Everyone says the heavens are high and distant, but who understands that hidden merits work behind the scenes?

It is said that in Changshuitang, Jiaxing Prefecture, Zhejiang, there lived a wealthy man named Jin Zhong. His family possessed vast wealth, and he had been called a “yuanwai” for generations. He was extremely stingy. Throughout his life, he harbored five grudges. What were these five grudges? First, he resented the heavens...

Out of hatred, he hated himself first, then his parents, then the emperor. He hated heaven for not always being in June. There were also autumn winds and winter snows, causing people to feel cold and forcing them to spend money on clothes. He hated the earth for its trees not growing in a pleasing manner. If they grew neatly as desired, the trees could be used as house pillars—thicker branches for beams and thinner ones for rafters—saving the labor of craftsmen. He hated himself for not being able to produce food; without eating for a day, he would feel hungry. He hated his parents for leaving behind many relatives and friends, who inevitably required tea and water. He hated the emperor for taking taxes from the land granted by his ancestors. Beyond these five hates, he had four wishes, hoping for four things. What were these four things? First, he wished for the copper mines of the Deng family; second, the gold mines of the Guo family; third, Shi Chong’s treasure basin; fourth, the ability of Master Lü Chunyang to turn stones into gold with just his finger. With these four wishes and five hates, his heart was never satisfied. He accumulated wealth and grain, yet still lacked enough. Truly, he measured rice to cook and weighed firewood to burn. Thus, he earned a strange nickname—Golden Cold Water, also known as Golden Skin-Peeler. What he disliked most were monks, as in this world only monks seemed to have an easy time, always receiving donations from laypeople without ever giving back. So whenever Golden Cold Water saw monks, they were like nails in his eyes and thorns in his tongue.

Near where he lived was a temple called Fushan Nunnery. Mr. Jin, at the age of fifty, had never spent a single coin on incense there. He liked Mrs. Shan, who was born on the same day, month, and year as him, though not at the same time. She was particular about fasting and being charitable. Mr. Jin liked her for fasting but got annoyed by her charity. Since he had no children by the age of forty, Mrs. Shan secretly gave more than twenty gold hairpins to the old monk at Fushan Nunnery, asking him to pray for children.

The Buddha answered her prayers, and indeed she gave birth to two handsome sons. Since they were prayed for at Fushan Nunnery, the older was named Fu Er and the younger Shan Er. After having the sons, Mrs. Shan often secretly stole wood and rice to give to the nunnery to support the old monk. When Mr. Jin heard about this, he cursed heaven and earth, and the couple fell out, arguing incessantly until one became impatient. This happened more than once. But since Mrs. Shan was stubborn, even after the arguments, she continued as before.

That year, both husband and wife celebrated their fiftieth birthdays. Fu Er was nine and Shan Er was eight. They had already started school and were perfect in every way. On their birthdays, Mr. Jin feared relatives and friends might come to congratulate them, so he left in advance. Mrs. Shan gathered some private money to hold a ritual ceremony at the nunnery. It was done both to celebrate the couple’s joint birthday and to fulfill her wish for her sons’ growth. She had mentioned this to her husband before, but he refused, so she had to act on her own.

That night, the monks wanted to set up the Buddha lamp for longevity, so they sent a Taoist priest to the Jin family to ask Aunt Jin how many dou of brown rice she needed. Lady Shan secretly opened the warehouse door and gave the priest three dou of rice. Soon after, Mr. Jin returned, and Lady Shan was still sealing the warehouse door. Her husband saw this and noticed some scattered rice grains on the ground, realizing she had done something secret. He wanted to argue, but then thought, “Today is an important birthday day, and since the goods have already been given away, there’s no way to get them back. It’s better to swallow my anger.” So she pretended not to know and held back her feelings. She didn’t sleep all night, thinking, “I must endure this thief monk from troubling our family constantly. He’s really a pest who undermines my household. Only when that bald fool dies can we be free from his troubles.” She regretted not having any plan.

By dawn, the old monk came back with a disciple to report on the ritual. The monk also feared meeting Jin Lengshui, so he stood outside watching. Jin Lao had already seen him and frowned, coming up with a plan. He took some money and went out through the side door to the market to buy arsenic from a yam shop. Then he went to Wang Sanlang’s pastry shop, where Wang Sanlang was steaming dough and preparing sugar fillings to make cakes. Jin Lengshui took out eight coins and placed them on the counter, saying, “Sanlang, take the money and make me four bigger cakes. Don’t skimp on the filling. Just shape the hollows; I’ll add the filling myself.” Although Wang Sanlang said nothing, he thought to himself, “That notorious Jin Lengshui and Jin Bopipi—ever since I opened this pastry shop, I’ve never seen them spend even a single coin. Today is a good opportunity to make a profit from them. They’re so cheap; I’ll let them put more filling so I can get them as customers next time.”

Wang Sanlang took out dough shaped like snowballs, shaped them into hollows, and handed them to Jin Lengshui, saying, “Sir, please go ahead.” Jin Lengshui secretly sprinkled arsenic powder inside the cakes before adding the filling and finishing the cakes. He made four such cakes and kept them warm in his sleeve. After leaving Wang Sanlang’s shop, he headed back to his own house. The two monks were drinking tea in the hall. Jin Lao greeted them cheerfully. After greeting them, he went inside and said to his wife, “The two monks came early; they must be hungry. Just now, a neighbor invited me to eat pastries. I saw the cakes were still warm, so I took four for them. Why not invite the two monks to eat too?” Lady Shan was very pleased that her husband had changed his ways. She took a red box and wrapped the four cakes inside it, asking a maid to deliver them.

When the monks saw the master returning home, they didn’t dare stay long and had no interest in eating the cakes anymore. Seeing the maid bring them over, they knew it was Aunt Jin’s kindness, so they couldn’t refuse. They wrapped the four cakes in their sleeves and left, heading back to the monastery. Jin Lao was secretly delighted, and that’s all there is to it.

It is said that two students from the Jin family studied sociology. After school, they often went to the hermitage to play around. That night, they went there again. The old monk thought, “These two young masters from the Jin family come here frequently. I have nothing to offer them. This morning, Madam Jin gave me four cakes, which I haven’t touched yet; they’re in the cabinet. Why not heat them up and invite them for a cup of tea?” He immediately ordered his disciple to take out the four cakes from the cabinet, heat them in the kitchen until they were golden brown, prepare two cups of strong tea, and set it all out for the two young masters to drink. The two students played around for a while and then grew hungry. Seeing the hot cakes, they each took two and ate them. Before eating, it was fine, but once they did, it was as if a fire burned their hearts, with countless spears piercing their stomachs.

Both of them suddenly started complaining of stomach pains. Their attendant was panicked and tried to help them back, but they were too in pain to move. The old monk was also worried, not knowing what was going on. He had no choice but to order his disciple to carry one of them on his back, with the attendant following, and send them back to Mr. Jin’s house. The two monks then left. Mr. and Mrs. Jin were shocked and quickly asked the attendant what had happened. The attendant replied, “They ate four cakes at Fushan Hermitage, and then they started having stomach pains. The old monk said those cakes were given to him by our family this morning. He didn’t want to eat them himself, so he brought them as a gift for the two young masters.” Mr. Jin realized something was wrong and confessed the truth to his wife, Shan. She became even more panicked and tried to give him cold water to make him sober, but it was useless. Soon, blood flowed from all seven orifices, and alas, they both died, becoming pair of wretched spirits.

Shan, through great difficulty, pleaded for her children, but her husband was heartless and poisoned them himself. Scolding him was pointless. Unable to bear the anger or suffering any longer, she went into the inner room, untied her sash, and hanged herself. Mr. Jin cried over his son for a while before finally stopping. When he returned to the room to talk with his wife, he saw the noose hanging from the beam and was terrified. He fell ill and died within seven days. Mr. Jin’s relatives, who had always resented his stinginess, saw this as an opportunity and rushed in to steal all his possessions. Thus ended the life of the wealthy Mr. Jin—a fitting punishment for those who do evil instead of doing good. As the poem goes: “How could they know there was arsenic in the cakes? It harmed others and also their own children. Heaven knows every thought and action; retribution is inevitable, with no favoritism!”

Earlier, it was said that Mr. Jin destroyed a family due to his evil deeds. Now let us talk about someone who, through good deeds, preserved a family. Truly, good and evil are contrasted, and fortune and misfortune become clear. We should warn people against evil and encourage them to do good.

It is said that outside the east gate of Wuxi County in Changzhou Prefecture, Jiangnan, there lived a poor family. There were three brothers: the eldest was named Lü Yu, the second Lü Bao, and the third Lü Zhen. Lü Yu married a woman surnamed Wang, and Lü Bao married one surnamed Yang; both were beautiful. Lü Zhen was still young and unmarried. Mrs. Wang gave birth to a child, nicknamed Xi Er, who was only six years old. He went out with children from neighboring households to watch a festival and did not return at night. The couple grew worried and posted a notice, calling for him in the neighborhood for several days, but to no avail.

Anxious, Lü Yu could not stay at home, so he borrowed some money from a wealthy family and headed to Jia Ding in Taicang to buy cotton cloth for sale, while also looking for news about his son. He would set out in early February each year and return in August or September to fetch new goods. After four years, although he earned some profit, there was still no sign of his son. Over time, his hopes faded.

On the fifth year, Lü Yu parted ways with Mrs. Wang and went back to trading. By chance, he met a wealthy cloth merchant. After talking, the merchant realized Lü Yu was skilled in business and invited him to go to Shanxi to sell goods. Lü Yu accepted, hoping for a small profit. Once in Shanxi, after selling the goods, they encountered years of famine, and the merchants refused to pay their debts, leaving Lü Yu trapped. Having been away for a long time, he ended up traveling around as a laborer, contracting various illnesses. He couldn’t face returning home. It took three years before his wounds healed, and he finally settled his accounts. The cloth merchant, grateful for Lü Yu’s delay in returning, rewarded him generously. Lü Yu received some goods and, before the merchant finished selling them all, sold some coarse cloth of his own and left first.

One morning, while traveling through Chenliu, he went to use the restroom and found a blue cloth bag left on the seat. It felt heavy in his hands. When he opened it, it contained gold worth about two hundred taels. Lü Yu thought, “This unexpected wealth can be taken, but if the owner comes looking for it, it will cause great trouble. The ancients said not to take gold found on the ground but to return it if it’s heavy. I’m over thirty and have no children—what use is this sudden fortune?” He waited near the restroom, ready to return the bag once someone came looking for it. After waiting a day with no one showing up, he continued on the next day.

He traveled another five hundred miles and arrived in Nan Suzhou. That evening, he stayed at an inn and met another traveler. They talked about business. The other traveler mentioned that by accident, five days earlier, he had left a cloth bag in Chenliu County before heading east. An official happened to pass by in the street, and in his panic, he forgot about the bag, which contained two hundred taels of silver. It wasn’t until nightfall, when he was about to go to bed, that he remembered. Thinking that someone must have picked it up by now, he tried to find it but to no avail, so he resigned himself to his misfortune.

Annoyed, Lü Yu asked, “What is your surname, sir? Where do you reside?” The guest replied, “My surname is Chen. My ancestors are from Huizhou. I currently run a grain shop at Yangzhou’s Zhaokou. May I ask what is your surname, sir?” Lü Yu said, “My surname is Lü. I’m from Wuxi County in Changzhou. I’m passing through Yangzhou anyway. I’ll accompany you there so you can pay your respects.” The guest, not knowing the details, agreed, “It would be great if you could visit.” The next morning, the two set off together.

In no time, they arrived at Yangzhou’s Zhaokou. Lü Yu also went to Chen’s shop, entered, and bowed. Chen Chaofeng invited him to sit down and served tea. Lü Yu first brought up the matter of the lost silver in Chenliu County and questioned him about the shoulder bag. “It was made of dark blue cloth, with a white thread marking the character ‘Chen’ on one end.” Lü Yu understood immediately and said, “I found a shoulder bag in Chenliu some time ago; it looks similar. Let me show it to you for identification.” Chen Chaofeng saw the shoulder bag and confirmed it was the same one. The silver inside remained intact. Lü Yu handed it back to Chen Chaofeng. Chen Chaofeng felt grateful and wanted to share the silver equally with Lü Yu, but Lü Yu refused. Chen Chaofeng insisted on giving Lü Yu some silver as a token of thanks, but Lü Yu still wouldn’t accept it. Deeply grateful, Chen Chaofeng hurriedly prepared food to entertain them. He thought, “It’s rare to find such a kind person like Lü Yu who returns lost property. I have a daughter aged twelve. I’d like to establish a familial relationship with Mr. Lü, but I wonder if he has a son?”

During the meal, Chen Chaofeng asked, “Sir, how old is your son?” Lü Yu couldn’t help but shed tears as he replied, “I have only one son. Seven years ago, he disappeared while attending a religious festival, and to this day, there’s no trace of him. My wife also cannot bear children. Now that I’m returning, I plan to find an adopted son to help support our family, but it’s hard to expect such a coincidence.” Chen Chaofeng said, “A few years ago, I bought a young servant for three taels of silver. He’s quite handsome and obedient, brought here by a traveler. He’s now thirteen years old and studies at school with my own child. If you’re satisfied with him, I’ll give him to you to serve you as a small token of my gratitude.” Lü Yu said, “If you’re willing to lend him to me, I’ll repay his value.” Chen Chaofeng replied, “Don’t talk like that! I’m afraid I’ll feel embarrassed if you don’t use him.” He immediately ordered the shopkeeper to go to the school and bring Xi Er over.

Hearing the name was the same as his son’s, Lü Yu grew puzzled. Soon, the young servant was brought in, wearing a robe of Wuhu blue cloth. He was indeed handsome. Accustomed to school rules, he bowed deeply to Lü Yu upon seeing him. Lü Yu felt delighted and carefully recognized his son’s features. At the age of four, he had suffered an injury to the corner of his left eyebrow, leaving a small scar—this was the clue to identify him. Lü Yu asked, “When did you arrive at the Chen family’s house?” The young servant thought for a moment and replied, “Six or seven years ago.” Lü Yu asked more questions.

“Were you originally from there? Who sold you here?” The boy replied, “Not very clearly. I only remember my father’s name being Lü Da, and there were two uncles at home. My mother’s surname was Wang; our home was outside Wuxi City. As a child, I was deceived and sold here.” Upon hearing this, Lü Yu embraced the boy and cried out, “My dear son! I am indeed Lü Da from Wuxi! I am your real father. I’ve lost you for seven years—how unexpected to meet you here!” It was truly like finding a needle in water, or reuniting with a treasure lost in one’s hands. They hugged each other affectionately at the feast, still fearing it might be just a dream.

Tears streamed down the boy’s eyes. Needless to say, Lü Yu was deeply moved. Lü Yu stood up to thank Chen Chaofeng, saying, “If not for your kind hospitality, how could father and son be reunited today?” Chen Chaofeng replied, “Your generosity in returning the gold has brought you here, allowing father and son to be together again. I never knew he was your son; I’m ashamed for my neglect.” Lü Yu then asked Xi Er to thank Chen Chaofeng as well. Chen Chaofeng insisted on returning the favor, but Lü Yu refused, insisting on accepting only two bows before inviting Xi Er to sit beside him. Chen Chaofeng then said, “Out of gratitude for your kindness, I have a daughter who is twelve years old. I would like her to be married to your son.” Seeing his sincere intentions, Lü Yu couldn’t refuse and agreed. That night, father and son slept in the same bed, talking all night long.

The next day, Lü Yu prepared to leave. Chen Chaofeng tried to keep him, arranging a grand feast to welcome the new family and son-in-law as a farewell gift. After several rounds of drinking, Chen Chaofeng took out twenty taels of silver and said to Lü Yu, “I’ve treated you poorly here; this is a small token to express our kinship. Please don’t refuse.” Lü Yu replied, “You’ve shown such kindness by accepting me; I should return the favor with proper rituals. Since I’m on a journey, it wouldn’t be appropriate to act hastily. How can I accept such a generous gift from you? I certainly can’t!” Chen Chaofeng insisted, “This is something I give to you personally, unrelated to your father-in-law. If he disapproves, then this marriage won’t go through.” With no other choice, Lü Yu accepted it and asked his son to come forward and thank Chen Chaofeng. Chen Chaofeng helped him up, saying, “There’s no need to thank me for such a small gift.” Xi Er also went in to thank his mother-in-law. They drank heartily that day and parted in the evening. Lü Yu thought, “It was purely by chance that we were reunited as father and son thanks to this act of returning the gold. Now, getting such a good marriage is like adding flowers to a brocade. I have no way to repay heaven and earth, but with these twenty taels from my father-in-law, it’s like an unexpected blessing. Why not choose a clean monastery, buy rice, and feed the monks to cultivate merit?” He made up his mind.

Early the next morning, Chen Chaofeng prepared breakfast. After eating, Lü Yu and his son packed their belongings, thanked him, and left. They called a small boat and rowed out of the sluice. After about a few miles, they heard noise by the river. It turned out that a boat carrying people had broken down, and people in the water were shouting for help. People on the shore called for boats to rescue them, while the boatmen demanded payment, causing a commotion. Lü Yu thought, “Saving a life is better than building seven stories high pagodas. If I were to go…”

“The monk, why not give these twenty taels of silver as a reward to have them rescued? It would be a great act of merit.” Then he said to everyone, “I’ll provide the reward; hurry and rescue them. If you save all the people on that boat, I’ll give you those twenty taels of silver.”

Hearing there was a reward of twenty taels of silver, small boats arrived like ants. Even some people from the cliffs who knew how to swim went into the water to help. In no time, everyone on the boat was rescued. Lü Yu distributed the silver among them, and those who were saved thanked him profusely. Among them, one person looked at Lü Yu and called out, “Where did brother come from?” Lü Yu looked at him and saw that it was none other than his third younger brother, Lü Zhen.

Lü Yu clasped his hands together and said, “I’m ashamed! Heaven sent me to save my brother’s life.” He quickly helped him onto the boat and gave him dry clothes to change into. Lü Zhen bowed his head in gratitude, and Lü Yu returned the bow. Then he introduced Xi Er to her uncle. He recounted the story of returning the gold and meeting Yu Zi, leaving Lü Zhen astonished. Lü Yu asked, “Then why did you come here?” Lü Zhen replied, “It’s hard to explain in just a few words. Ever since brother left, three years have passed. Some said he died of an infection in Shanxi. My second brother verified this, and my sister-in-law has already put on mourning clothes. But we brothers didn’t believe it. Recently, my second brother tried to force my sister-in-law to remarry, but she refused. That’s why I came to Shanxi myself to find out about brother’s whereabouts. Unexpectedly, we met here. We almost drowned too, but brother saved us—what good fortune! Brother, you must hurry home to reassure my sister-in-law. If we delay, something bad might happen.” Hearing this, Lü Yu panicked and immediately ordered the boat to set sail at night. As the saying goes: “An anxious heart wishes for speed, yet even with the boat moving swiftly, it still seems too slow!”

Meanwhile, upon hearing the sad news about her husband, Lady Wang was initially skeptical. But after Lü Bao described the situation vividly, she believed it and quickly changed into mourning clothes. Lü Bao, harboring evil intentions, thought that since his brother was dead and his sister-in-law had no means of support, especially being young, he could persuade her to remarry so he could get some dowry. He told his wife, Yang Shi, and his mother, but Lady Wang firmly refused. With Lü Zhen constantly advising against it, his plan failed. Lady Wang thought, “Seeing is believing.” Although her husband was dead and far away, she wasn’t sure what really happened. She asked her nephew Lü Zhen to go to Shanxi personally to find out more details. If indeed something bad had happened, he should bring back some of his bones. After Lü Zhen left, Lü Bao became even more unrestrained. He lost money in gambling for days without knowing what to do. By chance, a man from Jiangxi who had lost his wife wanted to marry someone. Lü Bao arranged for his sister-in-law to meet him. The man also saw that Lady Wang was quite attractive and was willing to pay thirty taels of silver. After getting the money, Lü Bao told the man, “My sister-in-law is somewhat reserved and will surely refuse if invited politely. At dusk tonight, have a sedan chair brought and quietly come to my house. Just show her wearing mourning clothes—that’s my sister-inlaw. No need for words; just help her onto the sedan chair and set sail right away.” The man followed his plan.

Meanwhile, Lü Bao returned home, fearing that his sister-in-law would not agree and would not reveal a word in front of him. He secretly signaled to his wife, saying, “Those wretches will be sent away to the guests from Jiangxi tonight. I’m afraid they’ll try to escape.” She left crying first. At dusk, he advised her to get into the sedan chair, telling her not to speak to her mother during the day. Lü Bao left without explaining anything about the mourning hairpin. It turned out that Yang Shi and Wang Shi, as sister-in-laws, got along very well. Yang Shi couldn’t bear it, but since her husband had made the decision, she had no choice. She stayed silent until evening, when she finally told Wang Shi, “My husband has married our mother to the guests from Jiangxi. Soon, they’ll come to pick her up. He told me not to say anything. I’m very close to my mother; I can’t keep this a secret. Gather up any valuables or household items you have in your room and pack them up so there’s no chaos later.” Wang Shi began to cry bitterly. Yang Shi said, “It’s not that I’m forcing her. A young widow won’t last forever. The bucket’s already in the well; it’s all part of fate. Crying won’t help!” Wang Shi replied, “Auntie, don’t say such things! Although my husband is dead, I haven’t seen it with my own eyes. Wait until San returns; then we’ll know for sure. I’m in such distress now!” She cried again. After much persuasion, Wang Shi stopped crying and said, “Auntie, since I have to get married, fine. But how can I go out wearing a mourning hairpin? Please find me a black hairpin to exchange it for.” Yang Shi, wanting to honor her late husband and also please her daughter-in-law, quickly went to find a black hairpin to exchange. But as fate would have it, no such hairpin could be found. Wang Shi said, “Auntie, since you’re at home, exchange your hairpin with mine for now. Tomorrow morning, you can ask your husband to get one to replace it.” Yang Shi agreed and took off her hairpin to give to her daughter-in-law. Wang Shi then took off her own mourning hairpin and put it on Yang Shi. She also changed into different clothes. After dusk, the guests from Jiangxi arrived with lanterns and torches, carrying a decorated sedan chair. Though there was a drummer team, they didn’t dare to play music. They rushed to Lü’s house like the wind and rain. Lü Bao had given them secret signals earlier. When everyone pushed open the gate, they rushed at the one wearing the mourning hairpin. Yang Shi shouted, “No!” But no one paid attention. As they forced her into the sedan chair, the drummers started playing, and the porters carried her away swiftly.

With music and songs, the bride boarded the guest ship, mistaking the mourning hairpin for a sign of marriage. If the bride complained to her husband, she could only blame her own husband, not fate.

Wang Shi secretly thanked heaven and earth, closed the door, and went to rest. The next day, at dawn, Lü Bao entered triumphantly. Seeing his sister-in-law open the door, he was surprised to find his wife nowhere in the room. Noticing that his sister-in-law wore a black hairpin, he became suspicious. He asked, “Sister-in-law, where did your aunt go?” Wang Shi smiled secretly and replied, “She was taken away by those barbarians from Jiangxi last night.” Lü Bao said, “That can’t be true! Then why aren’t you wearing a mourning hairpin?” Wang Shi explained the reason for the exchange, and Lü Bao beat his chest in despair. He had hoped to sell his sister-in-law, but instead ended up selling his wife! The guests from Jiangxi were already ready...

The ship has gone. Thirty taels of silver—more than half was lost in gambling just last night. There’s no way I can marry this daughter-in-law now. After some more thought, he decided to go all out: if he was going to do it, he’d find another client to sell his sister-in-law for enough money to afford a wife.

Just as he was about to leave, he saw four or five people rushing in through the door. It wasn’t anyone else but his elder brother Lü Yu, his younger brother Lü Zhen, his niece Xi Er, along with two porters carrying luggage and goods inside. Feeling ashamed, Lü Bao fled through the back door and disappeared. Lady Wang welcomed her husband back and, seeing her son return home after growing up away, asked him what had happened. Lü Yu told her the whole story from start to finish. Lady Wang also recounted how the man from Jiangxi had taken their aunt away, and how Lü Bao, too ashamed, had left through the back door. Lü Yu said, “If I had greedily kept those two hundred taels of ill-gotten wealth, how could father and son have been reunited? If I had spared those twenty taels and not tried to save the person whose boat had overturned, how could brothers have met again? If I hadn’t met my brothers, how would I have known what was happening at home? Today, as husband and wife are reunited and the family is whole again, it must be the will of heaven. That wretched brother who sold his wife deserved what happened to him. Heaven’s retribution is indeed precise!” From then on, they practiced more good deeds, and their family prospered day by day. Later, Xi Er married the daughter of Lord Chen, and their descendants multiplied, with many becoming officials of high rank. As the poem goes:

Returning the gold, he also got his son back;
Trying to sell his sister-in-law, he lost his wife instead.
In this world, only heaven’s work is ingenious—
Good and evil are clearly distinguished, and cannot be deceived.

Volume 6: Yu Zhongju Writes a Poem and Meets the Emperor

The moon waxes and wanes, the stars shift their positions—how can humans avoid rise and fall? Zi Fang was young and fled to Xupi during times of chaos. Yi Yin once plowed the fields of Xin, while Zi Ya fished by the Pan River. Don’t you see? Lord Han was once humiliated and forced to walk on horseback before achieving success; Meng Zheng slept in a tile kiln, and Pei Du took shelter in an ancient temple. When the time came, they all became generals and ministers—true signs of a man’s worth.

In the second year of Yuanshou during the reign of Emperor Wu of Han, there was a talented scholar from Chengdu Prefecture in Sichuan named Sima Changqing, also known as Xiangru. After losing both parents, he lived alone, supporting himself with salt-making. He was well-versed in various schools of thought and proficient in classics and history. Though he wandered around enjoying life, his true ambition was to achieve fame and success. On his way out, he passed a bridge seven li north of the city called Shengxian Bridge. Xiangru wrote on the bridge pillar, “A true man does not ride in a carriage pulled by horses and will never cross this bridge again.” Thus, he traveled north to the capital and east to Qi and Chu. Eventually, he joined King Xiao of Liang and became friends with Zou Yang and Mei Zhu. Unexpectedly, King Liang died, so Xiangru pretended to be sick and returned to Chengdu. In Linchang County, there was a county magistrate named Wang Ji who often sent people to invite him over. One day, Xiangru went there and stayed for ten days. During their conversations, they talked about the wealthy Zhuo Wangsun in that area, who owned beautiful pavilions, terraces, and ponds worth visiting. The county magistrate sent someone to ask Zhuo Wangsun to welcome Xiangru.

Lord Zhuo possessed vast wealth, hundreds of servants, and a luxurious residence. In his garden stood a flower pavilion named Ruixian, surrounded by blooming flowers on all sides—perfect for leisure and relaxation. Even the most famous gardens in the capital could not compare to it. Lord Zhuo had been widowed and refused to remarry, instead dedicating himself to the pursuit of spiritual enlightenment. He had only one daughter, nicknamed Wenjun, who was nineteen years old and currently living at home as a recent widow. She was exceptionally intelligent and beautiful, skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.

One morning, Lord Zhuo heard that Sima Changqing, a friend of the county magistrate and a renowned scholar, intended to visit his garden. He hurriedly went to greet him and led him to the Ruixian Pavilion in the garden. After exchanging pleasantries, Lord Zhuo hosted a banquet for him. Impressed by Sima Changqing’s elegant appearance and his status as a close friend of the county magistrate, Lord Zhuo said, “Since it’s inconvenient for you to stay in the county, why not stay at my place for a few days?” Sima Changqing, touched by his kindness, ordered his servant to bring his luggage to the Ruixian Pavilion. Before long, half a month passed.

Meanwhile, Wenjun was sitting idle in her sewing room when her maid, Chun'er, told her, “There’s a handsome scholar named Sima Changqing visiting. Lord Zhuo has allowed him to stay at the Ruixian Pavilion. He’s very handsome and skilled at playing the zither.” Intrigued, Wenjun secretly peered through a small window in the east wall to see Sima Changqing’s appearance. “He will surely become very successful in the future. But I wonder if he’s married or not. If I could have such a husband, I’d be satisfied for life! But he seems to be poor; if I were to ask my father for permission through a matchmaker, he would never agree. If I miss this chance, it might be hard to find another like him.” Two days later, noticing her ladyship’s worried expression, Chun'er said, “Tonight is the 15th day of the third month—the moon is bright. Why not go to the garden to relieve your boredom?” Though she said nothing, Wenjun thought to herself, “Ever since I saw that scholar, I’ve lost sleep and appetite. I’ve made up my mind. Even though it goes against proper conduct for a woman, it’s the path for my future.” She gathered some gold jewelry and instructed Chun'er to prepare wine and food. “Tonight, we’ll enjoy the moonlight together.”

Meanwhile, Sima Changqing, having long heard of Lady Wenjun’s beauty and intelligence, as well as her skill in music, also wanted to try to win her heart. That night, with the moon shining brightly, he heard noises coming from beneath the flowers. He sent his servant to spy, only to learn it was Lady Wenjun. He lit incense and began playing the zither. As Wenjun walked closer to the Ruixian Pavilion, she heard the clear sound of the zither. The melody went like this: “Phoenix, phoenix, I long for my homeland. I wander across the four seas in search of my mate. Since I haven’t found her yet, what’s the point? Why not come here tonight? There’s a beautiful woman in her chamber, while I’m alone here. How can we become lovers and fly together? Phoenix, phoenix, come and live with me. Let us be mates forever. Our hearts will be in harmony, and who else can understand our bond at midnight? With our wings spread, we’ll fly high, free from my sorrowful thoughts.”

Upon hearing this, the lady said to her maid, “The scholar has feelings, and so do I. Since we’re here tonight, go and meet him.” She then went to the pavilion. Xiangru saw Wenjun under the moonlight and quickly got up to greet her, saying, “I’ve dreamed of your beauty; who would have thought you’d actually appear? I failed to welcome you properly—please forgive me!” Wenjun stepped forward, saying, “It’s an honor to have such a distinguished man visit me. This lonely inn makes one long for company endlessly.” Xiangru replied, “Please don’t worry, madam. I have a zither, which can keep me occupied.” Wenjun laughed and said, “Sir, there’s no need to be modest. I already understand the art of playing the zither.” Xiangru knelt down and said, “To see your face is enough for me to die content.” Wenjun said, “Please stand up. I’ve come here tonight to enjoy the moon with you and drink together.” Chun'er arranged drinks and fruits in the Ruixian Pavilion, and Wenjun and Xiangru drank together. Xiangru looked closely at Wenjun—her brows were like green feathers, her skin like white snow. She wore embroidered clothes and brocade garments, neither too thick nor too thin. By the stream, she was like the twin rivers; beneath the moon, she resembled the two Chang’e goddesses.

After several rounds of drinking, Wenjun told Chun'er to pack up and leave, saying, “I’ll return on my own.” Xiangru said, “If you don’t mind the humble surroundings, I’d be happy to share a bed with you.” Wenjun laughed and said, “I wish to serve you for life—how could it be just about momentary pleasure?” Xiangru asked, “What plans do you have?” Wenjun replied, “I’ve brought some gold and pearls with me. How about we leave this place together tonight and live elsewhere? If your father misses us, we can move back together—wouldn’t that be wonderful?” The two left the Ruixian Pavilion and walked out of the garden. It was as if a giant fish had shed its golden hook and swum away, never to return.

Meanwhile, Chun'er waited until dawn but found the lady nowhere in the room or the pavilion. She reported this to the old master. When he arrived at the Ruixian Pavilion, neither Wenjun nor Xiangru was there. The master said, “Xiangru is a scholar, yet he behaves like an animal! You too have studied since childhood—haven’t you heard that a woman should not act on her own or make decisions unilaterally? You ignored your father’s orders and ran away to be with him—you are not my daughter!” He wanted to sue them in court, but since family shame couldn’t be exposed publicly, he gave up. “Let’s see what face he’ll have when facing his relatives!” From then on, he remained silent and stopped searching for them.

As for Xiangru and Wenjun, they returned home. Xiangru realized his pockets were empty and he had no way to make ends meet. “She comes from a wealthy family—how could she know such loneliness? What pleases me most is that she never shows anger and seems very wise. I believe Sima Changqing will surely achieve success someday.” While he was worried, Wenjun arrived. Xiangru said, “I’ve discussed with her family about starting a small business, but we lack capital.” Wenjun replied, “I can sell all my jewelry. My father has vast wealth—surely he can support his daughter. Let’s open a tavern; I’ll handle the serving. If my father finds out, he’ll surely regret it.” Xiangru followed her advice, built a house, and opened a tavern to sell wine.

You should keep the accounts personally. One day, a servant from Lord Zhuo’s household had business in Chengdu Prefecture and went into an inn to drink. By chance, he arrived at Sima Changqing’s inn. There, he saw the woman in charge of serving drinks—she was actually the master’s daughter—which surprised him greatly. He hurried back to his master and reported what had happened. The master was filled with shame and refused to acknowledge her as his daughter; he simply closed his doors and wouldn’t see any guests.

Meanwhile, Sima Xiangru and his wife had been selling wine for about half a year. Suddenly, an angel brought a imperial edict. Asking for Sima Xiangru’s name, the angel entered the inn and said, “The court has read your work, ‘Zixu Fu.’ Its style is magnificent and surpasses that of ancient writers. The officials highly admire it, feeling inspired by your lofty aspirations. I wish I could be in your time.” Yang Deyi then interjected, “This piece was written by Sima Changqing, my fellow townsman, who is currently living in seclusion in Chengdu.” The emperor was overjoyed and sent a minor official to summon him at once, urging him to hurry to court without delay.

Sima Xiangru packed his belongings and was ready to leave right away. Wenjun said, “If you become wealthy through this position, I’m afraid you’ll forget the time we spent together at Ruixian Pavilion!” Xiangru replied, “I owe you so much, and I still feel I haven’t repaid you enough. How could I say such a thing?” Wenjun continued, “There are two kinds of scholars: those who remain true to their principles regardless of wealth or poverty, and those who change when they become rich.” Xiangru assured her, “Don’t worry!” The couple were reluctant to part. Before leaving, Wenjun reminded him, “Now that your dream of inscribing a plaque on a bridge has come true, don’t disappoint the person who cleaned the pots for you!”

Leaving Sima Xiangru’s departure to one side, let’s talk about Lord Zhuo. One of his servants returned from Chang’an and heard that Yang Deyi had recommended Sima Xiangru, who had been summoned by the court. He thought to himself, “My daughter had foresight. She knew this man was talented and handsome, and would surely achieve greatness, which is why she arranged the marriage. Now that I think about it, marriage is a fundamental human institution. Before my son becomes an official, I should take my maid Chun'er with me to Chengdu to visit him—that would show filial piety, and no one would laugh at me. If I go to see him after he becomes an official, people will say I’m opportunistic.”

The next day, he took Chun'er to Chengdu Prefecture and found Wenjun. When Wenjun saw her father, she bowed and said, “I have sinned by being unfilial. Please forgive me, Father!” Her father replied, “My child, do you want to kill me? Let’s not mention what was said before. I’m glad now that the court has summoned you—it suits your wishes. Today, I send Chun'er to serve you and bring you back home. I’ll send a servant to Chang’an to inform your husband.” But Wenjun insisted on staying. Seeing that his daughter was determined, her father gave her half of his wealth, built a large house in Chengdu, purchased fertile land, and acquired thirty to forty thousand servants. He lived with his daughter, waiting for good news about his son-in-law.

Once again, Sima Xiangru arrived in the capital like an angel to pay his respects, presenting a piece titled “Rhapsody on Shanglin.” The emperor was overjoyed and immediately appointed him as a writer in the imperial court, waiting for orders at the Golden Horse Gate. Recently, routes to the southern tribes in Bashu had been opened, and military methods were used for transporting goods, causing chaos and distress among the local people. When the officials heard of this, they became furious and summoned Xiangru to discuss the matter, ordering him to write a proclamation for Bashu. The officials said, “For this task, we need someone special—only you will do.” Thus, Xiangru was appointed as a middle-ranking officer, given authority to act on behalf of the emperor, with a sword and gold plaque to allow him to execute those who violated the law before reporting back.

Xiangru thanked the emperor for his kindness and left the court. He traveled swiftly by post station. Upon arriving there, he persuaded the people of Bashu, and within just half a month, the region was peaceful again. The people lived in tranquility, and Xiangru returned home in splendor. In a few days, he reached Chengdu. The local officials welcomed him, and when he arrived at his new residence, Wenjun came out to greet him. Xiangru said, “Studying has not disappointed me; today, my wish to build a bridge has indeed come true.” Wenjun replied, “There’s more good news—your father-in-law has already come here to welcome you.” Xiangru exclaimed, “I dare not!” When the elder man stepped forward, Xiangru bowed to him. They thanked each other, and a feast was held to celebrate. From then on, they became wealthy in Chengdu, as evidenced by this poem:

On quiet nights, the moon shines bright on the Jade Terrace;
A gentle breeze rustles through the forests and hills.
The red strings play a tune of longing;
It’s only for a true connoisseur that I play it.

Sima Xiangru was originally a poor scholar from Chengdu. Thanks to a piece of writing that caught the emperor’s attention, he suddenly rose to fame. Now, let’s talk about another poor scholar from the Southern Song Dynasty, also from Chengdu, who lived in the Yu area by the Zhuojin River. He too rose to prominence through his writings. His name was Liang, with the courtesy name Zhongju; he was twenty-five years old. Having lost his parents at a young age, he married a woman named Zhang. This scholar studied poetry and history day and night, possessing great literary talent. When the imperial examinations were announced, talents from all over the country were invited to take the exams in Lin’an. Liang packed his zither, sword, and books, set off on a chosen day, and was bid farewell by friends and family. He told his household, “I’m going to seek an official position. It may take three years at most, or one year at least. As soon as I get some kind of position, I’ll return.” After saying this, he parted ways and rode off on a donkey.

After a day or so, he fell ill halfway through his journey. He quickly found an inn to stay in, feeling troubled. Unluckily, he fell ill for half a month, and once his money ran out, he had no choice but to sell his donkey to cover his expenses. Fearing he might miss the exam date, he bought a pair of straw sandals and carried his books on his back. In a few days, his feet were covered in wounds, bleeding profusely, causing him great suffering along the way. He thought to himself, “When will I finally reach Hangzhou?” Looking at his feet, he wrote a poem expressing his feelings, titled “Immortal Crane”:

The imperial exams are approaching;
The capital seems so far away, still beyond the sky.
I regret these feet that aren’t used to traveling;
How can I avoid getting stuck in mud now?
The pain is unbearable;
With worn-out straw sandals, I continue on,
Trying to be gentle, comforting myself with sweet words.

Help me to succeed, select an official for me; then I’ll reward you with a pair of court shoes and arrange for you to ride in a sedan chair. Carried here and there, you’ll enjoy delicious mutton and be treated with great care. I’ll also find a small footstool to keep by your side at night.

Before long, we arrived in Hangzhou. By the bridge in front of the examination hall, there was an inn run by a woman surnamed Sun, named Yu Yu. It was good that we could rest there. A few days later, when the examination results were announced, everyone waited anxiously for the list to be posted. The candidates endured many hardships. Liang had traveled over eight thousand miles to Lin’an, hoping to become famous at once, but fate wasn’t on his side—his name wasn’t on the list. Liang felt extremely depressed, tears streaming from his eyes. He thought to himself, “I’ve come all this way, but now I have nothing left. How can I go back?” So he ended up staying in Hangzhou. Every day, he would spend his little money on wine to ease his sorrow. As he grew poorer, at first a few acquaintances still showed concern for him, but later people grew annoyed and began to despise him. Whenever scholars came to the inn to drink, Liang would join them. He’d drink two bowls of wine each day until he was completely drunk, then return to the inn to rest. When Mrs. Sun saw this, she complained, “Scholar, you don’t even pay my rent. You get drunk every day, yet you still have money for wine!” Liang didn’t respond. Every morning, he would ask the innkeeper for some soup to wash his face, then go out. He tried to get some wine by approaching officials, drinking until he was drunk, and then returning to the inn to rest. This went on day after day.

One day, Liang walked to Zhong’an Bridge and saw a teahouse where several scholars were inside. He went in and sat down. The tea server came forward and asked, “What kind of tea would the top scorer like?” Liang didn’t say anything, thinking, “I haven’t even had breakfast, yet they ask me about tea. I don’t have any coins either—what can I give them in return?” So he said, “I’m waiting for an acquaintance here; he’ll be here soon.” The tea server left.

Liang sat by the door, hoping to see an acquaintance, but none showed up. While sitting there in frustration, he saw a man holding a sign that read, “Divination Available.” Thinking it might be a fortune-teller, Liang invited him into the teahouse. After Liang told him the date and time, the man began to divine. The tea server saw this and said, “That’s the acquaintance he’s waiting for.” He then asked again, “What kind of tea would the top scorer like?” Liang ordered two cups of pepper tea. After they drank, the man said, “The top scorer is truly blessed! Within three days, he will meet a noble person who will help him achieve great success—unimaginably great.” Hearing this, Liang thought, “With my appearance, when could I possibly succeed? I don’t even have enough money to pay for the tea.” So he pretended to leave, saying, “Sir, if I really do succeed someday, I’ll…”

“Let’s exchange thanks,” he said before getting up and leaving. The tea master said, “Top scorer, the cost of tea!” Yu Liang replied, “I just borrowed a seat to sit for a while; now you ask me for tea money. How can I pay back? The master said I would succeed someday. Once I’m successful, I’ll repay you.” With that, he left. The master said, “Top scorer, you still haven’t paid the lodging fee.” Yu Liang said, “Please forgive me, master. Once I’m successful, I’ll repay you.” The master said, “I just came out, and everything went smoothly!” The tea master said, “I’m not in the mood; I’ll deduct two units from the tea money!” And they dispersed.

Yu Liang went to find more alcohol and drank several bowls of it. By evening, he was completely drunk, staggering along until he reached Granny Sun’s shop, where he collapsed unconscious. When Granny Sun saw this, she scolded loudly, “What an unreasonable scholar! He refuses to pay the lodging fee he owes me and gets drunk every day. Do you think others will keep inviting you forever?” Yu Liang replied, “I get drunk on my own—what does it matter to you? Whether others invite me or not is none of your business!” Granny Sun said, “I’d rather lose a lot of lodging money than have you stay here any longer. You must leave tomorrow.” Yu Liang, still drunk and talking nonsense, said, “If you want me to leave, give me five guan more, and I’ll leave tomorrow.” Hearing this, Granny Sun laughed and said, “I’ve never seen such a customer! You’ve stayed in my shop for so long for free, yet you still try to swindle money and act rudely—this isn’t like a decent scholar at all.” Hearing this, Yu Liang started cursing, saying, “I have the ambition of Han Xin, but you lack the kindness of a kind woman. I, Yu, am a well-educated scholar; I will surely pass the exams eventually. Why worry about supporting me until then?” Drunk as he was, he started banging on tables and stools, acting as if he were serious. Seeing his drunken behavior, Granny Sun didn’t dare provoke him. She closed the door and went inside. After indulging in alcohol for half a day, Yu Liang felt tired and fell asleep on the bed.

When he woke up at dawn, he remembered what had happened and felt ashamed. He wanted to leave but had nowhere to go. In his dilemma, Granny Sun discussed the situation with her son, Sun Xiaoer. With no other choice, they decided to give him two guan to apologize and persuade him to leave. If he would leave easily, it would be fortunate. Yu Liang initially refused, as he had no money of his own. But out of shame, he accepted the two guan as thanks and left.

He thought to himself, “From Lin’an to Chengdu is eight thousand li away. With these two guan, I can’t even afford a few meals—how can I cover the expenses to get back?”

After leaving Granny Sun’s shop, he wandered around the streets but found no one he knew. By dinner time, he was hungry and depressed. He had only two guan, enough to buy some food and drink. Then he thought of jumping into West Lake and ending his life as a satisfied ghost. He headed straight to the edge of West Lake outside Yongjin Gate, where he saw a tall building with a large sign written in bright red characters: “Fengle Tower.” He heard the sound of flutes and drums filling the air. Yu Liang stood there...

When he took a closer look, he saw two people standing at either end in front of the door, wearing square-topped headscarves and purple robes, with silk shoes and clean socks on their feet. They crossed their arms and said to Yu Liang, “Please sit!”

Yu Liang gladly entered at their invitation and went straight upstairs, choosing a room by the lake with a railing to sit in. There, an employee from that day’s tavern bowed to Yu Liang and asked, “Sir, how much wine do you wish?” Yu Liang replied, “I’ve arranged to meet someone here. Please place two pairs of chopsticks on the table and set out two cups; wait for them to arrive before serving.” The employee did as requested, placing wine jars, ladles, spoons, chopsticks, cups, and trays—all made of silver—in front of him. Without saying anything aloud, Yu Liang thought to himself, “What a place of wealth and luxury, yet I’m suffering like this! I only have two strings of coins with me—what use are they?” After a while, the employee came back and asked, “Sir, how much wine would you like served?” Yu Liang said, “My friend isn’t showing up after all. Please bring me two qian worth of wine.” The employee agreed and then asked, “Sir, what would you like to drink with it?” Yu Liang replied, “Whatever you have.” Thinking it was a sign of hospitality, the employee brought various fresh fruits, delicious dishes, seafood, and other items, arranging them all in front of him. He placed a silver jar containing two qian of wine along with a ladle, and kept stirring the wine. Yu Liang ate alone from noon until late in the afternoon, consuming plenty of food and wine. With his hand resting on the carved railing and gazing at the lake below, he felt melancholic. He called the employee over and said, “Could you please bring me a pen and inkstone?” The employee replied, “If you need a pen and inkstone to write a poem, be careful not to stain the painted wall. Our shop has poetry sheets available. If it gets stained, since I’m on duty today, I’ll lose my daily wage.” Yu Liang said, “Then bring me the poetry sheets and pen and inkstone.” In a short while, the employee brought them and placed them on the table. Yu Liang said, “You may leave. I’ll write it when I’m ready. Don’t come back until I call you.” The employee then left.

Yu Liang closed the door and blocked it with a stool, thinking to himself, “I just want to become famous in this building so that future generations will know of me. Why must I write it on poetry sheets?” Remembering that he only had two strings of coins with him and had consumed so much food and wine, he wondered what he could give in return. It would be better to write a poem, open the window, jump into the lake, and end his life as a satisfied man. He ground the ink thickly, dipped the pen, wiped a section of the wall clean, and wrote down the lyrics of “The Immortals of the Magpie Bridge”:

I came in autumn dusk, I arrive in spring dusk; upon returning, it’s once again autumn dusk.
From the Fengle Tower, I gaze westward across the land—eight thousand miles stretch before me.
Countless green mountains, countless white clouds, and countless green waters too.
Seventy years is considered a long life since ancient times—how many such times can one truly experience in such fleeting time!

Yu finished writing and then added at the back, “A fine work by a talented scholar.” He put down his pen, tears streaming from his eyes. He thought to himself, “Why live? It’s better to find a way to die and avoid suffering!” Immediately, he pushed open the window and looked down at the lake, ready to jump in. But the shore was too far away. If he didn’t die from the fall, he might break his legs—what then? An idea came to him: he untied an old rope from his waist and tied it around a beam inside the room, creating a makeshift noose. With a sigh, he was about to put his head through the noose. What a coincidence! The bartender, having not seen him for some time, came over to the door. Seeing it was closed, he didn’t dare knock. Instead, he peered through the window and saw Yu inside, about to jump into the noose, yet still unwilling to die. The bartender was shocked and quickly pushed open the door, rushed in, and grabbed Yu, saying, “Why act like this? If you die, it will affect my shop!” He started shouting, and soon the managers, workers, bartenders, and servants all came upstairs, creating a commotion.

When everyone looked at Yu, they saw he was quite drunk, talking nonsense nonstop. The bartender glanced at the wall and saw words written there in various sizes, exclaiming in frustration, “Today is really unlucky for me; I won’t make any money today!” He said, “Scholar, since you’ve drunk, just pay and go home.” Yu replied, “Why? Do you want to kill me?” The bartender said, “Scholar, don’t cause trouble. The total cost of the wine you drank today is five taels of silver.” Yu said, “If you want five taels of silver, then take my life instead—I can’t give you silver! Ever since I passed by your shop, two men in purple robes invited me in to drink. I have no money now; I’ll just die.” He tried to jump out of the window, but the bartender quickly caught him.

Everyone discussed, “We don’t know where he lives. It’s better to let him go to avoid bad luck. Otherwise, if something happens to him, how will we explain it tomorrow?” They asked Yu, “Where do you live?” Yu replied, “I stay at Granny Sun’s inn by the Gongyuan Bridge. I’m a famous scholar from Chengdu in Western Sichuan; I came here for the imperial exams. If I go back, I might die in the river or elsewhere along the way—then I won’t be able to repay you.” They said, “It would be bad if you really died.” So they decided to let him go, sending two people with him to ensure he had a place to stay and avoid legal problems. They told two bartenders to help him downstairs. As they walked outside, it got dark. The two men supported him all the way to Granny Sun’s inn, but the door was already closed. The bartender left Yu in front of the door and went to knock. Someone inside thought there was a guest and quickly opened the door. Once the door opened, the bartender let go and left. Yu staggered around, about to fall. Granny Sun brought a lamp to look at him—it was indeed Yu. She was shocked but had no choice but to ask her son, Sun Xiaoer, to help him into the room to sleep. Granny Sun scolded, “Yesterday…”

In my home, I was annoyed by his behavior; I gave him two strings of coins in vain. I said, “Go back.” But actually, he used that money to buy wine! I just pretended to be drunk and let him scold me without daring to say a word. Truly, when one lacks confidence and spirit, it’s hard to cope with financial difficulties.

Now, let’s turn to another story. During the Southern Song Dynasty, Emperor Gaozong abdicated in favor of Emperor Xiaozong and became the Retired Emperor, living in the Deshou Palace. Emperor Xiaozong fulfilled all his duties as a son, trying his best to please his father, fearing any mistake. Besides paying respects and spending time together on pleasant occasions, the Retired Emperor would often go to the West Lake with the palace attendants in his free time. Sometimes, to avoid disturbing the common people, he would travel incognito, which became his habit. One day, the Retired Emperor went to the Lengquan Pavilion in Lingyin Temple to sit and relax. The beauty of this pavilion was described in four lines of poetry:

“Mountains surround the greenery; pavilions atop the clouds belong to the monks.
All day long, no one speaks by the railing; feet are washed in the cold spring among falling flowers.”

As the Retired Emperor sat there watching the spring, the temple’s abbot brought him tea. There was a monk carrying a tea tray, kneeling down. The Retired Emperor observed him carefully and saw that he was tall and strong, and he behaved with great respect. The emperor asked, “You don’t seem like a typical monk. Who are you really?” The monk, with tears in his eyes, replied, “My surname is Li, and my name is Zhi. I used to be the governor of Nanjian Prefecture. I offended the supervisors and was falsely accused of corruption, so I was demoted to a commoner. My family is poor, and I have no way to make a living. The abbot here is my maternal uncle, so I pretend to be a monk to get some food to survive.” The Retired Emperor felt pity and said, “When I return to the palace, I’ll speak to the emperor about this.” That evening, when he returned to the palace, Emperor Xiaozong sent a eunuch to the Deshou Palace to pay respects. The Retired Emperor then recommended Li Zhi, the former governor of Nanjian Prefecture, asking the emperor to restore him to his position.

A few days later, the Retired Emperor visited Lingyin Temple again, and the same monk came to serve him tea. The Retired Emperor asked, “Has the emperor restored your position yet?” The monk replied, “Not yet.” The Retired Emperor looked ashamed.

The next day, Emperor Xiaozong invited the Retired Emperor and the Empress Dowager to the Jingyuan Garden. The Retired Emperor remained silent and unsmiling, seemingly upset. Emperor Xiaozong said, “Today the weather is nice. I hope it will cheer you up.” The Retired Emperor didn’t respond. The Empress Dowager said, “My child has kindly invited us here for a walk. Why be upset?” The Retired Emperor sighed and said, “‘Old trees attract wind; old people attract humiliation.’ I’m old now, and no one takes my words seriously anymore.” Emperor Xiaozong was surprised and didn’t understand why. He knelt down and apologized. The Retired Emperor said, “I spoke on behalf of Li Zhi, the former governor of Nanjian Prefecture, but it wasn’t taken seriously. I saw him again at the temple yesterday, and it makes me feel ashamed.” Emperor Xiaozong said, “I followed your orders right away and informed the prime minister. The prime minister said, ‘Li Zhi is guilty of corruption…’”

“It’s difficult to reuse such records.” Now that he has the emperor’s favor, this trivial matter can be settled upon his arrival at court. For now, let’s indulge in a drink.”

The retired emperor first grew angry but then turned happy, and wouldn’t stop drinking until fully intoxicated. The next day, Emperor Xiaozong instructed the prime minister to reinstate Li Zhi. The prime minister still declined, upon which Emperor Xiaozong said, “This is the will of the Supreme Emperor. Yesterday when he was angry, I had no way to intercede. Even if it were a case of treason, we must release him.” Thus, Li Zhi was restored to his original position. This matter was left unmentioned.

Back to the story: On the night Liang stayed at Granny Sun’s inn, the retired emperor suddenly had a dream. In the dream, he wandered above West Lake and saw two streams of black smoke rising into the sky amidst countless rays of light. He awoke in shock. Early the next morning, he summoned a dream interpreter to explain the dream in detail. The interpreter said, “It indicates that there is a virtuous man who has come to this place and is wandering around West Lake, emitting resentful emotions into the sky. Therefore, he sent the dream to the retired emperor, signifying that the court will soon have such a virtuous person. It should happen today, though no good or bad fortune is indicated.” The retired emperor was overjoyed and rewarded the dream interpreter. Then he went to the palace, changed into the clothes of a scholar, and took a few attendants who also dressed in scholarly attire. Together, they strolled out of the city.

When they arrived in front of Fengle Tower, they saw two men in purple robes inviting them inside at the door. The retired emperor and his attendants entered the tavern and went upstairs. That day, all the rooms upstairs were occupied, except for the one where Liang had tried to commit suicide. The retired emperor lifted the curtain to enter, but the bartender warned, “Sir, you can’t go in; this room isn’t ready yet! The owner plans to clean it today before allowing guests to drink.” The retired emperor asked why the room wasn’t ready. The bartender replied, “Sir, I can’t say too much. Last night, there was a scholar from Chengdu in Sichuan who failed the exams and ended up here. He spent five taels of silver on food and drinks and got very drunk. By evening, he had no money to pay for the drinks, so he became unruly, trying to kill himself. Out of fear of legal trouble, the owners had to pay two men to send him away. He stayed far away, at Granny Sun’s inn by Gongyuan Bridge. That’s why the room isn’t ready yet; the owner plans to clean it before letting guests in.” The retired emperor said, “It doesn’t matter. We’re scholars; we’re not afraid of such things.” So they sat down together. Looking up, the retired emperor saw the walls covered in inscriptions of various sizes—it was a poem titled “Swallow Bridge Immortal.” Reading further, he saw the words “Scholar from Jinli, excellent work.” He was secretly pleased, thinking, “This man must be the virtuous person from the dream. There are words of resentment in this poem.” He asked the bartender, “Who wrote this poem?” The bartender replied, “Sir, it was written by that unruly scholar from last night.” Hearing this, the retired emperor asked, “Where is that scholar staying?” The bartender said, “He’s staying at Granny Sun’s inn by Gongyuan Bridge.” The retired emperor bought some food and drinks, paid the bill, and returned to the palace.

He ordered the eunuchs to deliver an imperial edict, instructing the local officials to fetch brocade from Sun Po’s shop by the Gongyuan Bridge, and to report back immediately. The eunuch took the message out, saying it was an imperial order to summon Liang, but he did not explain the reason clearly. The local officials were also confused; they immediately obeyed the order and rushed to Sun Po’s shop by the Gongyuan Bridge. They seized Sun Po on both sides. Out of breath from rushing, he kept calling out, “Liang! Liang!” Sun Po thought he had been reported by Liang and turned pale with fear. He knelt down and kept kowtowing.

The official said, “Don’t panic, old woman. The authorities are looking for the scholar from Xichuan named Liang. Isn’t he in your shop?” Only then did Sun Po dare to reply, “Your Excellency, there is indeed a scholar staying here, but he left early this morning to go back to his hometown. His son sent him off, but he hasn’t returned yet. Before leaving, he wrote a poem on the wall. If you don’t believe me, get off your horse and take a look.” The official went inside and saw a poem on the wall, with fresh ink still visible. The title of the poem was “Swallow Bridge Immortal,” and it read:

Peach blossoms in red rain, pear blossoms in white snow—ashamed to face the long path beneath the pavilion.
Even the Spring God knows how to guide one home, as fallen petals and fluff cover the ground.
With countless books in mind and timeless words at my pen, I now realize how often scholars are mistaken.
There’s a path to the heavens—no need to rush; just put on straw sandals and return home.

It turned out that Liang had gotten drunk the previous night and been scolded by Sun Po all night. At dawn, fearing he wouldn’t leave, Sun Po told her son to send him away early in the morning. Before leaving, Liang wrote this poem on the wall. Her son sent him off, but he hadn’t returned yet. After seeing the poem, the official had it copied down and quickly mounted his horse. He also gave Sun Po a spare horse to ride, sending her northward. Along the way, they encountered Sun Po’s son. The official ordered Sun Po to be released and seized Sun Po’s son, asking where Liang was. Sun Po’s son replied nervously, “The scholar is hesitating because he lacks money. He’s sitting at a dumpling shop near the North Gate.” The official took Sun Po’s son as a guide and rushed to the North Gate. There, they found Liang standing by the stove, eating dumplings from a bowl. When the messenger called out, “Liang, heed the imperial edict!” Liang was shocked, quickly put down the bowl, stepped outside, and knelt down. The messenger read out the emperor’s decree: “Liang is to go to De Shou Palace to see the emperor.”

Not knowing what to do, Liang was quickly escorted onto a horse and taken to De Shou Palace. Everyone dismounted and waited inside the palace hall for further orders. The local official first knelt outside the palace gate and reported, “Scholar Yu Liang has been brought here.” The emperor ordered Yu Liang to enter wearing purple robes. Wearing purple clothes, a soft sash, a gauze hat, and black boots, Yu Liang arrived at the golden steps and performed the required rituals. Then the emperor asked, “Was the poem ‘Swallow Bridge Immortal’ written by you?” Yu Liang replied, “It was written in my drunken state. I never expected it to catch the emperor’s attention.” The emperor said, “With such talent, why did you travel thousands of miles only to fail the exams? It’s the fault of those in charge.”

“Also, do not harbor any resentment!” Yu Liang said, “Success or failure is determined by fate; how dare I complain?” The retired emperor replied, “With your great talents, surely you can handle governing a region. I am now bestowing upon you a purple robe. I will speak to the emperor and appoint you to a high position. What do you think?” Yu Liang kowtowed in gratitude, saying, “What merits do I possess to deserve such imperial favor?” The retired emperor said, “In front of me, compose a poem or lyric—something better than those written on the walls of shops as part of an assignment.” Yu Liang asked for a topic. The retired emperor said, “Just take today’s encounter with me as your theme.” Yu Liang accepted the order, and attendants immediately brought the writing tools and placed them before him. With a swift stroke, he composed a lyric titled “Passing Longmen.”

Riding through dangerous passes near Qin, traversing the Yangtze River, I travel thousands of miles to Qiantang.
Failing to achieve fame, my plans prove futile; I rely on the kindness of neighbors.
Life is full of hardships; though I have talent for poetry, how dare I speak against our emperor?
Granted a purple robe, I return to my hometown, dressed in honor.

The retired emperor was overjoyed upon reading it and said to Yu Liang, “Since you wish to return to your hometown in glory, I shall fulfill your desire.” He then personally wrote six lines:
“In Jinli, Yu Liang, your verses are truly wonderful.
Your great talent remains unappreciated—a sad plight.
I grant you a high position; return to your hometown in glory.”

He ordered his attendants to deliver this edict to the emperor, then led Yu Liang to meet him. When Emperor Xiaozong saw the retired emperor’s decree, recalling how a few days earlier he had nearly angered the supreme ruler due to the matter involving Li Zhi, the governor of Nanjian, he dared not be slow this time. Since Yu Liang was a scholar from Jinli and the emperor had decreed that he should return in glory, using him in another position might offend the supreme ruler’s wishes. He immediately issued an order: “Yu Liang may be appointed governor of Chengdu, along with a thousand taels of silver as travel expenses.” The next day, dressed in a purple robe and gold belt, Yu Liang thanked the emperor in the palace. Afterward, he went to De Shou Palace to thank the retired emperor as well. Using the silver granted by the emperor, he prepared horses, servants, and other necessities, and also gave a hundred taels of gold as a gift to Old Lady Sun. Surrounded by honor, he returned to his hometown triumphantly.

That day, Emperor Xiaozong personally went to De Shou Palace to pay respects to the retired emperor and thank him for bestowing this worthy reward. The retired emperor also told Emperor Xiaozong to issue an edict throughout the land stating that in future examinations for scholars, they must first pass the local tests before proceeding to the capital for the final exams. This practice originated from that time and has remained in use ever since.

In former years, Sima Feng met Yang Yi; today, Yu Liang has the fortune to meet the retired emperor.
If one’s talents always find a patron, what does it matter if success comes sooner or later?

Volume Seven: Chen Kechang’s Immortal Transformation on the Dragon Boat Festival

Having neither means nor connections to pursue fame or wealth, one’s life is like a short-lived lamp in the wind even at a hundred years old. I fear that if I become a monk, I won’t be able to succeed as one; and if I do become a monk, I’ll end up losing everything as a monk.

It is said that during the Shaoxing era of Emperor Gaozong of the Great Song Dynasty, there was a scholar from Yueqing County, Wenzhou Prefecture, named Chen Yi, with the courtesy name Kechang. He was twenty-four years old. He had handsome features and was intelligent, having read every book and understood all history. During the Shaoxing era, he failed the imperial examinations three times, so he opened a shop at Zhong’an Bridge in Lin’an Prefecture to predict people’s fates. The master said, “Your fate has a protective aura, but no stars indicating an official career; it would be best for you to become a monk.” Since childhood, Scholar Chen had heard his mother say that when she gave birth to him, she dreamed of a golden Arhat entering her arms. Now, faced with failure in achieving fame and status, and hearing these words from the fortune-teller, he became angry, returned to his shop, and spent the night there. Early the next morning, he paid for his lodging, hired someone to carry his luggage, and went straight to Lingyin Temple to become a monk under Elder Yin Tienu. This elder was well-versed in the scriptures, and he had ten attendants, known as “Jia, Yi, Bing, Ding, Wu, Ji, Geng, Xin, Ren, Gui,” all of whom were intelligent scholars. Chen Kechang became the second attendant under the elder.

During the eleventh year of Shaoxing, Wu Qi, the uncle of Emperor Gaozong, happened to be on the fourth day of the fifth month, and the household was preparing zongzi. The prince then issued an order to the steward: “Tomorrow we will go to Lingyin Temple to feed the monks; prepare all the offerings properly.” The steward took the order, went to withdraw money, purchased various items, and got everything ready. After breakfast the next day, the prince inspected the items and boarded his carriage. Along with the steward, assistants, guards, and others, he left Qiantang Gate, crossed Shihan Bridge and Dafotou, and headed straight to Lingyin Temple on West Mountain.

An announcement was made in advance, and the elder led all the monks to ring bells and beat drums to welcome the prince into the hall, where incense was burned and he was invited to sit as the abbot. The elder then led the monks to pay respects and serve tea, standing on both sides. The prince said, “Every year on the fifth day of the fifth month, I come to the temple to feed the monks and distribute zongzi; today I follow tradition and make donations.” The servants brought the offerings to the Buddha, presenting large plates of zongzi, which were distributed to each room.

As the prince strolled along the corridor, he saw four lines of poetry on the wall:

In the State of Qi, Meng Chang once lived;
In the Jin Dynasty, another stood strong to ward off evil.
But fate has been harsh upon me;
I wish to ask the fortune-tellers what lies ahead.

Seeing the poem, the prince thought, “This poem seems to express resentment and longing; I wonder who wrote it?” Returning to the abbot’s hall, the elder prepared a feast to entertain him. The prince asked, “Elder, who in your temple can write good poems?” The elder replied, “Your Grace, our temple has many monks, and among them are ten attendants—Jia, Yi, Bing, Ding, Wu, Ji, Geng, Xin, Ren, Gui—all of whom can write poems.” The prince said, “Call them here!” The elder replied, “Your Grace, only two of them are here in the temple; the other eight have been sent to various villages.” Then Jia and Yi, the two attendants, came forward.

In front of the prince. The prince called servant Jia and said, “You can compose a poem.” Servant Jia asked for a theme, and the prince instructed him to use zongzi as the subject. Servant Jia wrote the poem:

Four corners sharp, tied with grass around the waist,
It wanders once in the boiling pot.
If it happens to meet Tang Sanzang,
It will be stripped bare in the end.

Upon hearing this, the prince laughed heartily and said, “Good poem, but lacking in literary grace.” He then called servant Yi to compose a poem. Servant Yi asked for a theme, which was also given as zongzi. His poem read:

Fragrant zongzi are offered to Qu Yuan each year;
Today, monks observe a sacred vow.
How many are there in the hall offering sacrifices?
Which comes first—life or death?

The prince was delighted upon hearing this and said, “Good poem!” He asked servant Yi, “Was the poem on the wall in the corridor written by you?” Servant Yi replied, “Your Grace, it was written by a servant.” The prince said, “Since it was you who wrote it, explain it to me.” Servant Yi said, “In the State of Qi, there was a man named Meng Changjun who had three thousand guests under his patronage. He was born at noon on the fifth day of the fifth month. In the State of Jin, there was a general named Wang Zhen’e, who was also born at noon on the fifth day of the fifth month. This humble servant was also born at noon on the fifth day of the fifth month, yet suffers such hardship. I composed these four lines as a lament.” The prince asked, “Where are you from?” The servant replied, “I am from Yueqing County, Wenzhou Prefecture. My surname is Chen, my given name is Yi, and my courtesy name is Kechang.” Seeing that the servant spoke clearly and had outstanding talent, the prince wanted to promote him. That very day, he sent someone to the Buddhist registry office in Lin’an Prefecture to obtain a monk’s license, so that servant Yi could be ordained as a monk. His courtesy name Kechang would be used as his religious name, and he would serve as a monk within the prince’s palace. The prince returned to his palace in the evening; no further mention of this is needed.

Time flew by, and before long, another year passed. On the fifth day of the fifth month, the prince went to Lingyin Temple again to observe the fasting ceremony with the monks. The abbot led Kechang and the other monks into the abbot’s quarters. Naturally, preparations were made for the sacrifice to entertain the prince. During the gathering, the abbot called Kechang forward and said, “Compose a lyric that reflects your own story.” After asking some questions, Kechang recited a lyric titled “Pusa Man”.

All my life, I’ve been wronged by today;
Today, I make up for all my past mistakes.
One year passes since the Double Fifth Festival;
Monks just wait for the right moment.
My master’s kindness is great;
I’ve enjoyed his favor for two years.
Now, I can live as a monk in peace,
Spending this life in tranquility.

The prince was overjoyed and returned to his palace drunk. He took Kechang back and introduced him to the two princesses, saying, “This monk is from Wenzhou. His surname is Chen, his given name is Yi. Having failed the imperial examinations three times, he gave up secular life and became a servant at Lingyin Temple.”

Seeing that he could compose good poems, I ordained him as a monk, giving him the Dharma name Kechang. It’s been a year now, and today I’ve brought him back to the mansion to meet my wife.” Upon hearing this, the wife was overjoyed. Seeing that Kechang was intelligent and simple-minded, everyone in the mansion was happy too. The prince and his wife opened the zongzi and gave one to Kechang, asking him to write lyrics for it, along with a poem in the style of “Pusa Man”. After asking around, Kechang requested paper and pen to write a poem:

In the wrapped rice, fragrant grains are neatly arranged;
Colorful threads are cut to form intricate ties.
On the fifth day of the fifth month each year,
We enjoy zongzi by the water’s edge.
My master’s kindness is immense;
I’m blessed with his love amidst the scenery.
When can I visit the mountain home?
Where flowers of sunflower and mugwort bloom?

The prince was very pleased and ordered Xinhé Jie to sing a song similar to Kechang’s. Xinhé Jie had long eyebrows, delicate eyes, fair skin, red lips, and graceful manners. Holding a clapper, she stood before the guests and sang beautifully, earning everyone’s applause. The prince then asked Kechang to write lyrics for Xinhé Jie as well, still in the style of “Pusa Man”. Kechang immediately took pen to paper and wrote:

Born with a slender waist and graceful figure,
She sings beautifully with clear and melodious voice.
Her song is unique and enchanting;
Dust flies as she sings.
My master’s kindness is great;
I’m honored with his affection at banquets.
It’s time to admire Xinhé Jie—time is running out!

The prince was even more delighted. When the banquet ended in the evening, he told Kechang to return to the temple.

By the fifth day of the fifth month the following year, the prince wanted to go to Lingyin Temple to offer sacrifices to the monks. But heavy rain poured down, so he didn’t go. Instead, he instructed the abbot, “Go and distribute the offerings among the monks, then ask them to come to the mansion to see Kechang.” The abbot followed orders and went to Lingyin Temple to inform the elders that the prince wanted Kechang to return to the mansion. The elders said, “Kechang has been suffering from an illness lately and hasn’t left his monk’s quarters. I’ll go with you to check on him.” The abbot and the elders went to Kechang’s room. Kechang was lying in bed and told the abbot, “Please convey my apologies to the kind prince. I’m sick and unable to come. There’s a letter for you to give to him.” The abbot brought the letter back to the mansion.

The prince asked, “Why hasn’t Kechang come?” The abbot replied, “Your Grace, Kechang has been suffering from heart pain these past few days and cannot come. He asked someone to deliver this letter, which he personally sealed.” The prince opened it and found another poem in the style of “Pusa Man”:

Last year we drank wine together by the water’s edge;
This year I stay in my monk’s quarters instead.

More good things require more effort; it leaves one helpless.
The lord’s kindness is great; he knows my heartache.
When he intends to reward Xinhe, will he know her illness has healed?

The prince immediately summoned Xinhe to sing these lyrics. A housekeeper reported, “Your Grace, lately Xinhe has drooping eyebrows and slow eyes, a large bosom and a rounded belly; she cannot come out.” The prefect was furious and sent Xinhe to the fifth lady in the mansion for interrogation. Xinhe confessed, “I had an affair with Ke Chang and became pregnant.” The fifth lady reported this to the prince. The prince was enraged: “Does he not realize that those words contain references to rewarding Xinhe? He isn’t suffering from some mental illness—he’s suffering from lovesickness! Today, feeling guilty, he dares not come to my mansion!” He ordered officials in Lin’an Prefecture to go to Lingyin Temple and bring Monk Ke Chang. The officials went to Elder Yin at Lingyin Temple to fetch Ke Chang. Elder Yin, unable to refuse, prepared food and drinks and gave some money to the officials. As the saying goes, “Official laws are like a furnace—who would tolerate sentiment?” Ke Chang pretended to be ill but eventually got up and followed the officials to the Lin’an Prefecture hall, where he knelt down.

The prefect entered the hall; drums sounded loudly, officials lined up on both sides—like the judgment hall of Yama, the god of death. Ke Chang was brought in and asked, “You’re a monk. Why does the prince show you favor? Why did you commit such an unjust act? Confess quickly!” Ke Chang said, “There’s no such thing.” The prefect wouldn’t listen and ordered, “Grab him and beat him thoroughly!” The officials dragged Ke Chang down and beat him until his skin was torn and blood flowed. Ke Chang finally confessed, “I indeed had an affair with Xinhe. I made a mistake in thought; my confession is true.” Xinhe was also interrogated and gave the same confession. The officials submitted Ke Chang and Xinhe’s confessions to the prince. The prince wanted to punish or kill Ke Chang, but because of his literary talent, he couldn’t bring himself to do so and instead locked him up in prison.

Meanwhile, Elder Yin thought to himself, “Ke Chang is a virtuous monk. He rarely leaves the temple, spending his time reading scriptures before Buddha. Even when called to the prince’s mansion for half a day, he returns soon and doesn’t stay overnight. Where could such an affair have come from? There must be something suspicious!” He hurried to Fahua Temple and asked Abbot Jia Da Hui to go to the mansion with him to plead for Ke Chang’s mercy. The prince came out, invited the two elders to sit, and offered tea. The prince began by saying, “Ke Chang is disrespectful! How could I treat him well yet he still committed such an unforgivable act?” The two elders knelt down and pleaded repeatedly, “We dare not intercede on Ke Chang’s behalf. But we beg Your Grace to consider his past kindness and forgive him somewhat.” The prince asked the two elders to return to the temple, saying, “I’ll order Lin’an Prefecture to give him a lighter punishment tomorrow.” Elder Yin replied, “Your Grace, the truth will become clear over time.” Hearing this, the prince was displeased and retreated to the back hall, never coming out again. Seeing the prince hadn’t come out, the two elders also left the mansion. Abbot Jia said, “The prince is angry because you said ‘the truth will become clear over time.’ He won’t admit his mistake, so he won’t come out.” Elder Yin...

He said, “Ke Chang is a man of virtue. He has no affairs in his daily life; he doesn’t even leave the temple, only studying scriptures in front of the Buddha. Even when summoned to the prince’s mansion, he returns after half a day without staying overnight. How could such deceit arise? That’s why I say ‘time will reveal everything’—there must be some injustice.” Elder Jiao said, “The poor should not rival the rich, nor should the humble contend with the noble. How dare a monk dispute matters with the prince’s household? This is also the result of past karmic debts. We must hope he will give a lenient judgment.” With that, they each returned to their temples, and the matter was dropped.

The next day, the prince sent Feng Jianzi to Lin’an Prefecture and ordered Ke Chang and Xin He to be given a light punishment. A high official reported to the prince, “Wait until Xin He gives birth, then we can decide.” The prince gave orders to make a decision then. The local officials had no choice but to revoke Ke Chang’s monkly credentials, beat him with a hundred strokes, send him to Lingyin Temple, and then assign him to work for the Ning family. Xin He was beaten with eighty strokes and sent to Qiantang County to work for the Ning family, with a thousand strings of coins to be returned to the prince’s household.

Elder Yin took in Ke Chang. All the monks in the temple advised the elder not to let Ke Chang stay in the temple, as it would tarnish the temple’s reputation. The elder told the monks, “There must be something suspicious about this; time will reveal everything.” He had a thatched hut built behind the temple, where Ke Chang could rest and recover from his wounds before being sent back.

Meanwhile, the prince sent Xin He to work for the Ning family and demanded the return of a thousand strings of coins. Xin He’s parents said to her, “We have no money. If you have any savings, use them to repay the household later.” Xin He replied, “Someone else will pay for it.” Mr. Zhang cursed, “You wretched woman! You cheated with a poor monk, and his monkly credentials were revoked too. How can anyone pay to reimburse the household?” Xin He said, “It’s a shame to wrong this monk! I myself had an affair with the household’s treasurer. When he saw I was pregnant, fearing things would come to light, he said to the prince, ‘I only had relations with Monk Ke Chang.’ Since the prince likes Ke Chang, he will surely spare you. I’ll support your family and provide them with money and goods.’ I’m going to ask him for the money now to cover my expenses and repay the household. I was deceived by him; how can I back out of what I promised? If he refuses, you two elders can take me to the prince’s presence so I can tell the truth, thus freeing Monk Ke Chang as well.” Her parents listened to her and went to the household to ask the treasurer for the money, explaining everything. The treasurer became angry and cursed, “You stupid old wretches! Ignorant and shameless! Your own daughter cheated with a monk, and now the case is settled, yet you try to trick people with such nonsense! You owe money for your daughter’s dowry, and when you have nowhere to turn, you try to beg for pity, hoping someone might give you a few strings of coins. But you make such baseless claims. How can I face others if they hear this?” After cursing them, he left.

Old Zhang had no choice but to return in silence and tell his daughter. When Xinhe heard this, tears streamed down her face, and she said, “Father and mother, rest assured; I’ll deal with him tomorrow.” The next day, Xinhe went with her parents to the prince’s mansion, repeatedly pleading for justice. The prince immediately ordered them brought in—only to find it was Xinhe’s parents. The prince cursed, “Your daughter committed a grave crime, yet now you come to my mansion demanding justice!” Old Zhang knelt and pleaded, “Your Grace, my daughter was unfortunate and committed this act, wronging one person in the process. Please rule fairly!” The prince asked, “Who was wronged?” Old Zhang replied, “I don’t know; just ask that wretched woman, and she’ll explain.” The prince asked, “Where is that wretch?” Old Zhang said, “She’s waiting at the entrance.” The prince called her in and questioned her in detail. Xinhe entered the hall and knelt down. The prince asked, “Wretch, you committed such an unforgivable act—who do you claim was wronged?” Xinhe replied, “Your Grace, I committed adultery and falsely accused Monk Kechang.” The prince asked, “Why did you accuse him? Speak truthfully, and I may spare you.” Xinhe confessed, “I committed adultery, but it has nothing to do with Monk Kechang.” The prince asked, “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Xinhe answered, “I was deceived by Qian Yuan. When I became pregnant, Qian Yuan feared exposure and told me, ‘If this comes out, never mention me! Just say it was Monk Kechang. Since the prince favors Kechang, he will surely spare you.’” The prince cursed, “You wretched woman! Why did you follow his words and harm this monk?” Xinhe said, “Qian Yuan said, ‘If you return unharmed, I’ll support your family. If you demand repayment, I’ll cover it.’ Today, I have nowhere to go. Your Grace, since I can’t repay, I had no choice but to go to him for money. When my father went to talk to him, he beat and insulted him, harming an innocent man. Now I’ve told the truth; I’m willing to die before Your Grace.” The prince asked, “He promised to support your family—do you have any proof?” Xinhe replied, “Your Grace, Qian Yuan promised to support me, but fearing he might change his mind, I took a red plaque as proof.” The prince, furious, shouted, “You wretched woman! You falsely accused Monk Kechang!” He ordered people to take Qian Yuan to the hall for interrogation and torture until he confessed. After a hundred days, he was given eighty lashes and sent to the prison on Shamen Island. Xinhe, however, spared Qian Yuan a sum of one thousand guan. The prince then sent people to Lingyin Temple to bring Monk Kechang.

Meanwhile, Monk Kechang had recovered in his hut. It was again the fifth day of the fifth month. He took paper, ink, and a pen and wrote a poem titled “Ode to Leaving This World”: Born on the Double Fifth, a monk on the Double Fifth, guilty on the Double Fifth, dying on the Double Fifth. Due to debts from a past life, if I don’t confess now, others may suffer. Now that everything is clear, it’s better to withdraw. Written at noon on the fifth day of the fifth month—all slander and false accusations are gone. On the Double Fifth Festival, all slander and false accusations vanish.

Ke Chang often composed an “Eulogy of Departure.” Outside his thatched cottage, there was a spring. Ke Chang would take off his clothes, wash his whole body clean, put on his clothes again, and then sit in lotus position inside the cottage and pass away. The monk reported this to the abbot, who prepared a niche for Ke Chang and carried it down from the mountaintop. Just as the abbot was about to extinguish the fire, a servant from the prince’s palace came to fetch Ke Chang. The abbot said, “Sir, go inform the prince that Ke Chang has attained enlightenment through meditation and is about to have the fire extinguished. Since the prince has come to fetch him, let’s pause for now and wait for the prince’s orders.” The servant replied, “Everything is clear now; it has nothing to do with Ke Chang. It’s all because of some complication that they sent me to fetch him, yet he has already passed away. I’ll inform the prince, and he will surely come in person to see the fire being extinguished.” The servant rushed back to the palace and reported everything along with the “Eulogy of Departure.” When the prince read it, he was greatly shocked.

The next day, the prince, along with the two princesses, went to Lingyin Temple to cremate Ke Chang. The monks brought him to the back mountain. After the prince and the princesses offered incense, the prince sat down. Abbot Yin led the monks in reciting scriptures. Holding a torch in his hand, Abbot Yin chanted:

“The fragrance of Qu Yuan’s zongzi remains;
In dragon boat races, everyone strives to be first.
From now on, let these bonds be severed;
No need to form ties in another life.”

To the venerable Ke Chang, who has attained enlightenment:
It’s the Dragon Boat Festival—a fine day.
Who will bathe in fragrant water?
Zongzi are filled with gold,
But calamus is cut in vain like jade.
Know the wonderful Dharma of the Lotus Sutra;
All Mahayana teachings are fully understood.
Do not break the new lotus leaves—
Otherwise, one suffers the shame of clinging to flowers.
Now everything is clear;
Let the song of Yangguan resound.
Today is the Dragon Boat Festival—why leave so soon?
Emptiness is the true nature;
What does time’s poison matter?
I, a mountain monk, come today
to give you a lamp of light.
With this flame of samadhi,
you may see your true face.
Ah! Let the song of the Bodhisattva resound;
Then return to Tushita Heaven at once.

Everyone saw Ke Chang appear in the flames. They thanked the prince, the princesses, the abbot, and the monks. Ke Chang said, “In my past life, I owed debts that I had to repay in this life. Now I return to the realm of immortals and will never go back to the human world. I am one of the five hundred Arhats, known as the Venerable Constant Joy.” Truly, is heaven ever blind or deaf?
No beauty can escape its eternal gaze.
It’s good to encourage people to follow the path of virtue;
After all, it’s about cultivating virtue and accumulating merits. Volume 8: Cui – Enemies in Life and Death

The mountains are beautiful under the clear skies;
Warm winds stir the returning geese over the plains.
In the eastern suburbs, flowers begin to adorn the sight;
On the southern paths, grass starts to sprout.
Willows by the embankment still harbor crows;
I walk in search of beauty toward the mountain home.
A few red plum trees shed their blossoms;
Red apricot branches still bear no flowers.

This poem “Tieguo Tian” describes the scenery of early spring, but it turns out to be not as good as “Zhongchun Ci”: Every day in drunken dreams in the brothel, unaware that spring has deepened beyond the city walls. Apricot blossoms fall gently in sparse rain, willows sway lightly in a soft breeze. Floating pleasure boats, galloping green horses, with green shade enveloping the area outside the small bridge. Passersby do not enter this fairyland—how many layers of curtains are behind them?

This poem describes the scenery of mid-spring, yet it is still not as good as Lady Huang’s “Jichun Ci”. The spring light is as rich as wine; from time to time, one hears swallows’ songs filtering through the curtains. Willows by the small bridge emit a fragrant scent from their catkins, while red peach blossoms scatter from the mountain temple. Swallows grow old, butterflies fly east and west—spring departs, leaving endless sorrow. Grass covers the steps, blurred by the morning rain; pear blossoms scatter with the morning wind.

None of these three poems compare to what Wang Jinggong saw—the petals drifting down in the wind, showing that it is the east wind that brings spring to an end. There is a poem that says: Spring days and winds are sometimes good, sometimes bad. Without the spring wind, flowers do not bloom; once they bloom, they are blown away by the wind. Su Dongpo said, “It isn’t the east wind that brings spring to an end—it’s the spring rain.” Another poem reads: Before the rain, one first sees the buds among the flowers; after the rain, there are no more flowers beneath the leaves. Bees and butterflies fly past the wall, making one think the spring beauty lies in the neighbor’s house. Qin Shaoyou said, “It’s neither the wind nor the rain—it’s the willow catkins that carry away the spring beauty.” There is a poem that says: In March, willow blossoms drift away lightly, carrying spring away in their gentle sway. These flowers are inherently heartless, flying either east or west. Shao Yaofu said, “It’s not the willow catkins either—it’s the butterflies that collect the spring beauty.” Another poem reads: When flowers are in full bloom in March, butterflies fly over in haste, taking the spring beauty to the ends of the earth, adding sorrow to those on the road. Zeng Gongliang said, “It’s not the butterflies either—it’s the orioles singing that bring spring to an end.” There is a poem that says: When flowers are in full bloom, so vibrant, why disturb the fragrant bushes on a spring night? The oriole’s song brings spring to an end, leaving endless emptiness in the gardens. Zhu Xizhen said, “It’s not the oriole either—it’s the cuckoos that bring spring to an end.” Another poem reads: The cuckoo’s call brings spring to an end; even its bloodstained cries remain. The courtyard grows longer and quieter by the day, filling people with fear until dusk. Su Xiaoxiao said, “It’s none of these things—it’s the swallows that carry away the spring beauty.” There is a poem “Die Lian Hua” as proof: I originally lived by the Qiantang River; as flowers bloom and wither, I pay no heed to passing years. Swallows carry away the spring beauty; through the gauzy window come several showers of plum rain. A rhinoceros-shaped comb is tilted, half-unfurled like clouds; the sandalwood clappers tap softly as I sing through the golden threads of melody. After the song, the colorful clouds vanish without trace; upon waking from dreams, the moon rises by the southern shore.

Wang Yansou said, “It’s neither the wind nor the rain, nor the willow catkins, nor the butterflies, nor the orioles, nor the cuckoos, nor the swallows. It’s the nine…”

“Ten days of spring light have passed; spring has gone.” There was a poem that said: “I resent both the wind and the rain—neither is right. If neither wind nor rain comes, spring still departs. The rouge on cheeks fades as plums grow small; the yellow from lips disappears as swallows fly. In Shu, the orioles sing loudly as flower shadows fade; in Wu, silkworms feed eagerly while mulberry trees grow sparse. I’m annoyed that spring leaves without a place to be found—rivers and lakes waste away a coat meant for it.”

Why does the speaker mention this about spring’s departure? During the Shaoxing era, there was a man from Yanzhou and Yan’an in Guanxi, who was originally the military governor of three regions and the Prince of Xian’an. Fearing that spring would pass, he planned to go on a spring outing with many of his attendants. In the evening, as he returned home, he arrived in front of Chebridge at Qiantang Gate. After the attendants’ palanquins passed, the prince’s palanquin arrived. Then, from a framing shop under the bridge, someone called out, “My daughter, come out and see the prince!” The prince, inside his palanquin, told the attendant by the window, “I’ve been looking for this person before; today I find them here. It depends on you—bring this person to my residence tomorrow.” The attendant agreed and went to find the girl who had come out to see the prince. What was her appearance like? Her hair was like cloud-like strands lightly framing her face like cicada wings; her brows were delicate, like spring hills brushed lightly; her red lips resembled a cherry blossom; her white teeth were like two rows of shattered jade. Her steps were like those of a lotus, slightly curved; her voice was sweet as a warbler’s song.

She was indeed the one who had come out to see the prince’s palanquin. The attendant immediately went to a teahouse across from her house and sat down, asking the old woman to bring tea and snacks. The attendant said, “Please ask Miss Qu from the framing shop across the way to come and talk with me.” The old woman went and brought her over. They bowed to each other and sat down. The attendant asked, “What message does your master have?” The attendant replied, “It’s nothing serious; just a casual question. Is the girl who came out to see the prince’s palanquin your daughter?” She answered, “Yes, she’s my only child. We’re just a family of three.” The attendant asked again, “How old is your daughter?” She replied, “Eighteen years old.” He then asked, “Your daughter is about to get married—will she marry an official?” She said, “Our family is poor; we can’t afford to pay for a marriage. In the end, she’ll probably end up serving in some official’s household.” The attendant asked, “What skills does your daughter have?” She described one of her skills, supported by a poem titled “Eye Charm”:

“In a secluded courtyard, the days grow longer; a lovely girl wears colorful clothes.
Not needing the power of spring, she uses her golden needle to embroider flowers.”

Slanting branches and tender leaves encircle the blossoms—only lacking fragrance.
Once, in the depths of the garden, she lured butterflies and bees into frenzy.

It turned out this daughter knew how to embroider. The official said, “Just now, the prince saw your daughter wearing an embroidered apron in the sedan chair. Our household is looking for someone skilled in embroidery—why not present her to the prince?” Lord Qiu went back and told his wife. The next day, they prepared a letter of recommendation and presented it to the palace. The prince offered her a generous reward, and thus she was named Xiuxiu, meaning “nurturing mother.”

Not long after, the court bestowed upon them a battle robe embroidered with floral patterns. Xiuxiu immediately embroidered one just like it. When the prince saw it, he was delighted and said, “The emperor has given me this battle robe embroidered with floral patterns—what extraordinary gift shall I offer in return?” He went to the treasury and found a piece of transparent jade. He ordered the craftsmen to work on it, asking, “What can be made from this jade?” One of them said, “It’s suitable for making a pair of wine cups.” The prince replied, “It’s a shame to use such fine jade just for wine cups!” Another suggested, “Since this jade is pointed at the top and round at the bottom, it could be used to make a magic charm.” The prince said, “A magic charm is only useful on the seventh day of the seventh month; it’s useless otherwise.” Among them was a young man, twenty-five years old, surnamed Cui and named Ning. He had served the prince for several years and was from Jiankang Prefecture in Shengzhou. He stepped forward, clasped his hands, and said to the prince, “Your Grace, since this jade is pointed at the top and round at the bottom, it’s not suitable for anything else but making a statue of Guanyin from the South Sea.” The prince agreed, saying, “That’s exactly what I want.” He ordered Cui Ning to get to work. In just two months, the jade statue of Guanyin was completed. The prince immediately submitted a report to the emperor, who was very pleased. Cui Ning then requested more rewards from the prince.

One day, during spring, Cui Ning returned from an outing in the countryside. Upon entering Qiantang Gate, he entered an inn where he drank a few cups with three or four acquaintances. Suddenly, he heard noise in the streets. He quickly pushed open the window to look outside and saw chaos everywhere—people shouting, “There’s a leak at Jingting Bridge!” Unable to finish his drink, he hurriedly left the inn. What he saw was:

At first, it resembled fireflies; then, like lantern light. A thousand candle flames were overwhelming, and ten thousand oil lamps couldn’t compare. The Six Divine Workers toppled the precious celestial furnace, while the Eight Strongmen set fires that burned through mountains. At the Lishan gathering, it seemed Bao Si was showing off her beauty. On the Red Cliffs, it must have been Zhou Yu devising his clever strategies. The Five Divine Messengers controlled the fire gourds, while Song Wuji chased away the red horses. Without even pouring water or oil, the smoke rose high and the flames burned fiercely.

When Cui Daizhao saw this, he hurriedly said, “It’s not far from my residence.” He rushed to his house, only to find that everything had been taken away, and it was completely silent with no one around. Since he saw no one, he followed the left corridor, where the light from the fire illuminated everything like daylight. At the end of that left corridor, a woman staggered out of the main hall, talking to herself. She bumped into Cui Ning. Cui Ning recognized her as Xiuxiu’s foster mother; he stepped back two steps and bowed respectfully. It turned out that on that day, the prince had promised Cui Ning, “Once Xiuxiu reaches adulthood, I’ll give her to you in marriage.” Everyone else encouraged them, saying, “What a perfect couple!” Cui Ning thanked them repeatedly. Though Cui Ning was single, he was deeply in love. Seeing such a young man, Xiuxiu also hoped for something. That day, she carried a handkerchief filled with gold and jewels as she came out of the left corridor. Upon encountering Cui Ning, she said, “Doctor Cui, I came out too late. The foster mothers in the house scattered everywhere, too busy hiding to care for anything else. Now you have no choice but to take me with you to hide.”

Immediately, Cui Ning and Xiuxiu left the house and walked along the river to Lime Bridge. Xiuxiu said, “Doctor Cui, my feet hurt; I can’t walk any further.” Cui Ning pointed ahead and said, “Walk a few more steps; that’s where I live. You can rest at my home without any problem.” Once they arrived at his home, Xiuxiu said, “I’m hungry. Doctor Cui, please buy me some snacks to eat! I’ve been frightened; a cup of wine would be even better.” Cui Ning brought wine, and after drinking a few cups, it was as if bamboo leaves pierced their hearts, and peach blossoms covered their faces. Truly, “Spring is the master of flowers, and wine is the matchmaker of love.” Xiuxiu said, “Do you remember when we were on the moon terrace admiring the moon and you promised to marry me? You still thanked me. Do you remember or not?” Cui Ning crossed his arms and could only respond with “Yes.” Xiuxiu said, “Everyone cheered for you that day, saying, ‘What a perfect couple!’ How could you forget?” Cui Ning again replied with “Yes.” Xiuxiu said, “Instead of just waiting, why not make us husband and wife tonight? What do you think?” Cui Ning said, “I wouldn’t dare.” Xiuxiu said, “You know you shouldn’t dare. If I insist, I’ll ruin you. Then how will you bring me to your home? I’ll go to the house tomorrow and talk about it.” Cui Ning said, “Madam, if you want to be my wife, that’s fine. But there’s one thing—we can’t stay here. We must take advantage of this chaos caused by the absence of the others and leave tonight if we want to succeed.” Xiuxiu said, “Since I’m going to be your wife, I’ll follow your lead.”

That night, they became husband and wife. After midnight, they each took their personal gold and silver belongings and left. They endured hunger and thirst, traveling day and night until they reached Quzhou. Cui Ning said, “This is a crossroads with five paths. Which way should we take? It’s better to go via Xinzhou. I work in jade processing, and I know a few people there. I’m worried we won’t be able to stay there safely.” So they immediately set off for Xinzhou.

After staying there for a few days, Cui Ning said, “There are often guests coming and going from the capital to Shinshu. If they learn that we are here, the prince will surely send people to hunt us down. It’s not safe. We’d better leave Shinshu and go somewhere else.” The two of them got up and set off for Tanzhou.

After a day’s journey, they arrived in Tanzhou, having traveled quite far. They rented a house in the city, with a sign outside that read, “Cui Daizhao, Jade Worker, Living Here.” Cui Ning then said to Xiuxiu, “We’re now over two thousand li away from the capital. I think nothing will happen. We can live peacefully as husband and wife.” There were also a few officials living in Tanzhou, and since Cui Ning was a court official assigned there, he gradually found a way to make a living. Cui Ning secretly sent people to investigate what was going on at the capital. Some who had been to the capital learned that a fire had broken out there that night, and a servant girl had disappeared. A reward was offered, and after several days, her whereabouts were discovered. They had no idea that Cui Ning had taken her away and she was now living in Tanzhou.

Time flew by like an arrow, and more than a year passed. One morning, when they opened the door, they saw two men dressed in gray robes, looking like officials from the imperial guard. They entered the shop and sat down, asking, “I’ve heard that there’s a man named Cui Daizhao from the capital. He’s been summoned here to work.” Cui Ning told his family to prepare, and he followed those two men to Xiangtan County. There, he was taken to the official’s residence, where he was given the job of working with jade. After that, he returned home.

On their way, they saw a man wearing a bamboo hat, a white shirt with two cuffs, blue and white strips tied around the waistband of his pants, and a pair of straw sandals. He carried a shoulder pole. As he came closer, he glanced at Cui Ning. Cui Ning didn’t recognize him, but the man recognized Cui Ning and started following him closely from behind. It was as if a child’s clapping startled a pair of mandarin ducks, causing them to fly apart. Who was this man? Stay tuned for the next chapter.

Bamboo vines entwine the morning glories along the streets;
Moonlight filters through the sparse fences and thatched cottages.
In glass cups lies wine made from grass;
On white jade plates lie beans and plums.

Don’t worry; be happy instead.
In life, one should always smile.
No true friend can be found even over three thousand li;
One comes back from the army with nothing but a title.

This poem, “Egret Sky,” was written by Liu Liangfu from the Xiongwu Army in Qinzhou, Guanxi. After the great battle at Shunchang, he stayed at home and lived in Xiangtan County, Hunan. He was a general who didn’t care about wealth; his family was poor, so he often went to village inns to drink. The people in the inns didn’t know who Liu Liangfu was, so they cheered for him. Liu Liangfu said, “Millions of people are treated as ordinary people, yet now they slander me!” And so he wrote this poem.

Heaven〉, and the story spread all the way down. At that time, the Grand Marshal in charge of the palace was Yang and Wang. Upon hearing this, they were deeply saddened, saying, “So Liu’s family is truly poor!” They ordered the officials to send some money to Liu’s family.

Today, Cui Ning’s cousin, the Prince of Dongren, upon hearing that Liu’s family was so impoverished, also sent someone to give them some money, passing through Tanzhou on the way. Seeing Cui Ning coming from Xiangtan, he followed him all the way to his home, where he saw Xiuxiu sitting inside. He exposed them by saying, “Doctor Cui, it’s been a long time since we last met. So you’re here. How come Xiuxiu’s foster mother is also here? The prince sent me to Tanzhou, and today I happened to meet you both. It seems Xiuxiu’s mother has married you—how nice.” This scared Cui Ning and his wife to death, as he had been caught red-handed.

Who was this man? He was a soldier in the prince’s household who had served the prince since childhood. Seeing how honest they seemed, he was sent to deliver money to Liu’s family. His surname was Guo, and his name was Li; he was known as Soldier Guo. Cui Ning and his wife invited Soldier Guo in and prepared wine to entertain him, instructing him, “Be sure not to tell the prince that you’ve been here!” Soldier Guo replied, “How could the prince possibly know you two are here? Since there’s no problem, why mention it?” After thanking them, he left and returned to the prince’s palace, delivering the message. He reported to the prince, “Guo Li sent back a letter the other day. While passing through Tanzhou, he saw two people living there.” The prince asked, “Who are they?” Guo Li said, “I saw Xiuxiu’s foster mother and Cui Daizhao. They treated Guo Li to food and drink and told him not to bring it up at the palace.”

Upon hearing this, the prince said, “These two dared to do such a thing. Why did they go straight there?” Guo Li replied, “I don’t know exactly what they were up to. I just saw them living there, still running their usual business.”

The prince ordered his subordinates to send orders to Lin’an Prefecture. Immediately, an official was dispatched with guards and funds, heading straight to Tanzhou in Hunan. Official documents were issued, and they set out to find Cui Ning and Xiuxiu—it was like a black eagle chasing a purple swallow, or a fierce tiger barking at a lamb.

Within two months, the two were captured and brought to the palace. When the prince learned of this, he immediately held a court session. It turned out that when the prince killed foreigners, he used a knife in his left hand called “Xiao Qing,” and another knife in his right hand called “Da Qing.” Those two knives had taken countless lives. They were stored in scabbards and hung on the wall. When the prince entered the hall, everyone bowed. The two prisoners were brought in and made to kneel. The prince was extremely angry. He reached for “Xiao Qing” from the wall with his left hand and drew the knife with his right. With eyes full of murderous intent and teeth gritted tightly, he terrified his wife, who, hiding behind a screen, said, “Your Highness, this is under the emperor’s authority, not like the borderlands. If they are guilty, simply send them to Lin’an Prefecture to be punished. Why kill them recklessly?” Hearing this, the prince said, “These two beasts managed to escape. Today, I’ve caught them again.”

I was annoyed. How could I not punish him? Since the lady urged me to do so, I had XiuXiu taken to the garden behind the mansion, and Cui Ning was taken to Lin’an Prefecture for trial. I immediately ordered wine and money to reward those who carried out the arrest.

Cui Ning was taken to Lin’an Prefecture, where he recounted everything from start to finish: “Since that night, when I was caught and brought to the mansion, everything was taken away. I saw XiuXiu’s wet nurse coming out from the corridor, grabbing Cui Ning and saying, ‘How dare you put your hands on me? If you don’t obey me, I’ll ruin you! You want to run away with Cui Ning.’ Cui Ning had no choice but to go with her. That’s the truth.” The case was presented to the prince, who was a righteous man. He said, “Since that’s the case, spare Cui Ning and impose a mild punishment on him. He shouldn’t have tried to escape; he shall be punished with flogging and sent back to Jiankang Prefecture to live there.”

Immediately, guards were sent to escort him. As they left the North Gate and reached Goose Neck, they saw a palanquin being carried by two people. Someone called out from behind, “Cui Daizhao, don’t go yet!” Cui Ning recognized it as XiuXiu’s voice. He rushed over, puzzled as to why she was there. Being like a bird that has been hurt, he dared not engage in any conflict and kept his head down as he continued walking. Then someone rushed up behind, stopped the palanquin, and a woman stepped out—none other than XiuXiu. She said, “Cui Daizhao, you’re going to Jiankang Prefecture now. What about me?” Cui Ning asked, “What should I do then?” XiuXiu replied, “Since you were taken to Lin’an Prefecture for trial, I was taken to the garden behind the mansion and beaten with thirty bamboo sticks. Then they sent me away. Knowing you were going to Jiankang Prefecture, I rushed here to go with you.” Cui Ning said, “That’s great.” They found a boat and went to Jiankang Prefecture, with the guards returning on their own. If the guards had been dupes, trouble would have arisen. Knowing the prince’s fierce nature, it would be dangerous to provoke him. Moreover, Cui Ning had bought wine and food along the way to please them, so upon returning he concealed the bad and highlighted the good.

As for Cui Ning and his wife, after the case was settled, they were still afraid of being seen, so they opened a jade-grinding shop again. His wife said, “We live well here, but since I ran away to Tanzhou with you, my parents have suffered greatly. When I was captured and taken to the mansion, they tried to seek death or survival. Now we should send someone to the capital to bring our parents here to live with us.” Cui Ning agreed, “That’s perfect.” So he sent someone to the capital to fetch his father-in-law and mother-in-law, giving them details about their whereabouts.

When they arrived at their residence in Lin’an Prefecture and asked the neighbors, they pointed out, “That’s their house.” The messenger went to the door and saw two shut doors, locked with a key and sealed with a bamboo pole. He asked the neighbors, “Where have the old couple gone?” The neighbors replied, “Don’t mention it! They have a daughter as beautiful as a flower, who was given away to some wealthy household. That daughter didn’t bring any good fortune; instead, she ran away with a jade-grinding official.”

The day before, he captured a general from Tanzhou in Hunan and brought him back to Lin’an Prefecture to face trial. That daughter was taken by the prince into the back garden. When the old couple saw their daughter taken away, they tried to end their lives right away; to this day, their whereabouts are unknown, and they just stay locked inside their house.

Upon hearing this, the messenger returned to Jiankang Prefecture, but still hadn’t arrived home.

Meanwhile, Cui Ning was sitting at home when someone outside said, “Are you looking for Cui Daizhao’s residence? It’s right here.” Cui Ning called out to his family to take a look, and it turned out to be none other than Lord and Lady Qu. They met each other and were overjoyed to be together. The person who went to fetch the old man didn’t arrive until a day later, reporting that he couldn’t find them and had come back empty-handed. The two elders then came here on their own. The two old people said, “We really owe you an apology. We didn’t know you lived in Jiankang, otherwise we wouldn’t have searched everywhere until we found you here.” From then on, the four of them lived together, as is natural.

Back at the imperial court, one day while inspecting treasures in a side hall, someone picked up the jade Avalokiteshvara statue. There was a jade bell attached to the statue, which fell off accidentally. The emperor immediately asked the attendants, “How can this be repaired?” After examining the statue carefully, the officials said, “What a fine jade Avalokiteshvara! How did the bell come off?” Looking at the bottom, there were three characters engraved: “Made by Cui Ning.” “It’s so simple. Since someone made it, we just need to summon this person and ask him to repair it.” An order was sent to the prince’s palace to summon the jade craftsman Cui Ning. The prince reported back, “Cui Ning is guilty and currently resides in Jiankang Prefecture.” Immediately, people were sent to Jiankang to bring Cui Ning to the imperial court. Cui Ning was summoned before the emperor, who gave him the jade Avalokiteshvara statue to repair with care. Cui Ning thanked the emperor and found a piece of similar jade to make a new bell, which he handed in to the emperor. In return, the emperor provided for Cui Ning and allowed him to live in the imperial court. Cui Ning said, “I’ve had the honor of meeting the emperor today. I’m so proud. Next, I’ll find a place by Qinghu River to open a jade workshop—no need to worry about you finding me there!”

But fate has its twists. Just a few days after opening the workshop, a man passed by from outside—it was General Guo. Upon seeing Cui Daizhao, he said, “Congratulations, Doctor Cui! So you live here?” When he looked up, he saw Cui Daizhao’s family standing inside the shop. General Guo was shocked and quickly walked away. Cui Daizhao’s family told him, “Please stop that general! I want to ask him something.” As the saying goes, those who never frown in life will have no one to resent in the world.

Cui Daizhao immediately chased after him and grabbed him. General Guo kept turning his head from side to side, muttering, “It’s a curse! It’s a curse!” With no other choice, he returned with Cui Ning to their home. Cui Daizhao’s family greeted him and asked, “General Guo, earlier I kindly invited you for wine, but you left and told…”

The prince ruined our plans. Today we faced the emperor, but I’m not afraid you’ll go and tell him.” General Guo said nothing in response, only muttering “I’m sorry!” before parting ways.

He then went to the mansion and said to the prince, “There’s a ghost!” The prince asked, “What about this man?” Guo immediately replied, “Your Highness, there’s a ghost!” The prince asked, “What kind of ghost?” Guo said, “Just now, while crossing Qinghu River, I saw Cui Ning running a jade-polishing shop. Inside the cabinet, I saw a woman—it was Xiuxiu’s mother.” The prince grew impatient and said, “Nonsense again! I killed Xiuxiu and buried her in the back garden. If you really saw her there, how could she still be there? Are you trying to mock me?” Guo replied, “Your Highness, how dare I mock you! I stopped General Guo and asked him questions. Fearing you wouldn’t believe me, he wrote a military order as proof.” The prince said, “If she’s really there, bring back that military order!” The man, out of desperation, actually wrote such an order. The prince took it and ordered two attendants to prepare a sedan chair, saying, “Bring this woman here. If she’s really there, cut her down with a sword; if not, General Guo, you must do it instead!”

Guo and the two attendants went to get Xiuxiu. It was like wheat ears splitting apart—hard for the farmer to tell which was which.

Guo Li was from Guanxi, simple-minded, and had no idea how such a military order could be issued carelessly! The three of them went straight to Cui Ning’s house. Xiuxiu was still sitting inside the cabinet. Seeing General Guo arrive in such a hurry, she didn’t realize he had obtained a military order to bring her away. General Guo said, “Young lady, by the prince’s order, I’ve come to take you away.” Xiuxiu replied, “In that case, wait a moment; let me get ready before we go.” She went inside to tidy up, changed her clothes, then got into the sedan chair and bid farewell to her husband. The two attendants carried her straight to the mansion entrance.

Guo Li entered first. The prince was waiting in the hall. Guo Li reported, “Xiuxiu’s mother has been brought here.” The prince ordered, “Let her in!” Guo Li came out and said, “Young lady, the prince wants you to enter.” When they lifted the curtain to look, water was poured over them, and before they could react, Xiuxiu’s mother disappeared from the sedan chair. They asked the two attendants, “We don’t know anything. We just saw her get into the sedan chair and carried here—it never moved.” The man called for her to be brought in again and said, “Your Highness, there really is a ghost!” The prince snapped, “Enough! Capture this man. I’ll get the military order and cut him down right now. First, go and bring ‘Xiao Qing’ here.” This man had served the prince many times before and had received several promotions. But since he was simple-minded, he was only given the rank of general. Panicked, he said, “There are two attendants as witnesses. Please call them here to testify.” They were immediately called in, and they confirmed that they saw her get into the sedan chair and carried here, but she disappeared afterward. Since their accounts matched, it seemed there really was a ghost. All that was needed was to call Cui Ning to ask him.

He ordered Cui Ning to be brought to the mansion, and Cui Ning recounted everything from start to finish. The prince said, “This has nothing to do with Cui Ning; let him go.” Cui Ning bowed and left. Anxious, the prince had Guo Li beaten fifty times with a rattan stick.

Hearing that his whole family were ghosts, Cui Ning returned home and asked his father-in-law and mother-in-law. The two exchanged glances, then went outside and jumped into Qinghu River. People were called to rescue them, but their bodies were nowhere to be found. It turned out that when Xiuxiu was killed, those two elders heard about it and jumped into the river, killing themselves as well—they too were ghosts.

Back at home, Cui Ning was listless. Entering his room, he saw Xiuxiu sitting on the bed. Cui Ning said, “Sister, spare my life!” Xiuxiu replied, “Because of you, I was beaten to death by the prince and buried in the back garden. I hated Guo Paijun for talking too much; today my revenge is fulfilled—the prince has beaten him fifty times with a rattan stick. Now that everyone knows I’m a ghost, I have no place to stay.” With that, she stood up, grabbed Cui Ning by both hands, screamed once, and collapsed to the ground. When neighbors came to check, they found both of them dead—their pulses had stopped, and their lives had ended. Cui Ning was also dragged away, and together with his parents, all four became ghosts. Later generations commented wisely:

The Prince of Xian’an couldn’t control his fierce temper;
General Guo couldn’t resist idle chatter.
Lady Xiu refused to leave her loved ones behind;
Cui couldn’t escape his ghostly enemies.

Volume 9: Li Tianxian Writes Poems to Scare the Barbarians

Admired was Li Tianxian of old,
Who composed poems while drinking wine in abundance.
His talent outshone those of his time;
His writings surpassed those of ancient sages.
His cursive script brought glory to distant borders;
His songs captivated hearts like none before.
Don’t say the talented man’s charm has faded—
The moon still hangs above Cai Shi.

During the reign of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, there was a talented man named Li Bai, styled Taibai. He was the ninth descendant of Emperor Wu Zhaoxing of Western Liang, from Jinzhou in Sichuan. His mother dreamed that the star Changgeng entered her womb and gave birth to him. Changgeng Star is also known as Taibai Star, hence his name. Li Bai had a beautiful appearance and unique features, exuding an air of otherworldliness. By the age of ten, he already mastered literature and history, speaking in eloquent prose. People praised him as having a brilliant mind and eloquent tongue, saying he was a celestial being descended to earth, which led to him being called Li Tianxian. Du Gongbu wrote a poem in his honor:

In years past, there was a madman,
Called the Immortal Li.
His pen stirred storms and winds;
His poems made gods and spirits tremble!

His fame grew from then on, though tears were never shed.
His literary talent was uniquely gifted; his works would surely be unparalleled.

Li Bai also called himself the Hermit of Blue Lotus. He loved wine throughout his life, refused to pursue an official career, and aspired to travel throughout the world to see all the famous mountains and taste all the fine wines. First he climbed Mount Emei, then lived in Yunmeng, and later hid at Bamboo Creek on Zuliao Mountain. There he drank heartily day and night with six others, including Kong Chaofu, forming what was known as the Six Recluse of Bamboo Creek. Someone said that the wine in Wucheng, Huzhou, was excellent, so Li Bai traveled thousands of miles there. Upon arriving at the tavern, he drank heartily as if no one else was around. At that time, Sima Jing, a reclusive scholar, passed by and heard Li Bai’s wild singing. He sent someone to ask who he was. Li Bai casually replied with four lines of poetry:
“The Hermit of Blue Lotus, a celestial being, has spent thirty springs hiding from fame in taverns.
Why ask Sima of Huzhou? The Buddha of Golden Grains is his future incarnation.”

Sima Jing was greatly astonished and asked, “Could you be Li the Celestial Being from Shu? I’ve heard of you for a long time.” He then invited Li Bai to meet him, hosted him for ten days, and gave him generous gifts. Before parting, he asked, “With your outstanding talent, it should be easy for you to obtain high-ranking positions. Why not go to Chang’an to take the exams?” Li Bai replied, “The current government is in chaos, with no sense of justice. Those who offer bribes succeed, while those who don’t, even if they possess the wisdom of Confucius or the talents of Chao and Dong, have no chance of success. That’s why I prefer to indulge in poetry and avoid the corrupt examiners.” Sima Jing said, “Even so, who doesn’t know you? Once you’re in Chang’an, someone will surely recommend you.”

Li Bai followed his advice and went to Chang’an. One day, while visiting the Purple Extreme Palace, he met He Zhizhang, a scholar of the Hanlin Academy. They exchanged their full names and immediately admired each other. He Zhizhang invited Li Bai to a tavern, took off his golden marten coat, and drank with him. Not wanting to part at night, he invited Li Bai to stay at his home and they became brothers. The next day, Li Bai moved his belongings to He Zhizhang’s house, and they spent their days discussing poetry and drinking together—getting along very well. Time passed quickly, and soon the exam date approached. He Zhizhang said, “This spring, the examiner for the Southern Province exams is Yang Guozhong, the brother of Yang Guifei. The supervisor is Gao Lishi, a high-ranking official. Both of them are corrupt. If you don’t have gold or silver to bribe them, even with great knowledge, you won’t be allowed to see the emperor. I know both of them, so I’ll write a letter to them in advance, hoping they’ll show some leniency.” Although Li Bai was highly talented and noble, faced such circumstances, and given He Zhizhang’s kindness, he had no choice but to agree. He Zhizhang wrote a letter and gave it to Yang Guozhong and Gao Lishi.

When the two read it, they sneered and said, “He Zhizhang accepted gold and silver from Li Bai, yet now writes empty letters to us asking for favors. From now on, whenever we see a paper with Li Bai’s name on it, regardless of its quality, we’ll immediately reject it.” On the third day of the third month, the Southern Province exams began, with scholars from all over the country submitting their papers. Li Bai’s talent...

There was plenty of time, so he finished writing at once and was the first to submit his paper. When Yang Guozhong saw the name “Feng Bai” on the paper, he looked down at the content. Seeing the messy handwriting, he said, “A scholar like this can only grind ink for me.” Gao Lishi added, “Even grinding ink isn’t good enough for him; he can only help me put on socks and take off shoes.” He ordered Li Bai to be pushed out. As the saying goes: He didn’t want to compete with scholars across the land—he just wanted to compete with the examiners! Li Bai was deeply resentful after the examiners unfairly graded his paper. Back at his residence, he swore, “If I achieve success someday, I will make Yang Guozhong grind ink for me and Gao Lishi help me put on socks and take off shoes—only then will my wishes be fulfilled.” He Neihan advised Li Bai, “Don’t worry. Rest here for now. In three years, when another examination is held with different examiners, you will surely pass.” He spent his days drinking and composing poems with Li Bai.

Days turned into months, and before long, a year had passed. One day, an imperial letter from a foreign country arrived. The court sent an envoy to urgently summon He Neihan to welcome the foreign envoy and arrange lodging for him at the station. The next day, an official received the foreign letter and opened it. Emperor Xuanzong ordered the Hanlin scholars to read it, but they couldn’t understand a single word. Kneeling before the golden steps, they reported, “This letter is full of symbols like those of birds and beasts. Our knowledge is limited; we don’t understand a single word.” Hearing this, the emperor decided to have Yang Guozhong, the examiner from the southern department, read it. Yang Guozhong tried to read it but couldn’t understand anything either. The emperor summoned all the civil and military officials in the court, but none could decipher the contents or tell what good or bad news it contained. The emperor became furious and scolded his officials, “There are so many civil and military officials here, yet not a single learned person to share this burden with me. If we can’t understand this letter, how can we respond to the foreign envoy? They will laugh at us, insult the southern dynasty, and may even send troops to invade our borders. What shall we do?” He set a deadline of three days: if no one could understand the letter, their salaries would be suspended; after six days, they would be dismissed from office; if still no one understood it after nine days, they would be punished. New, capable people would be selected to support the state. Once the imperial edict was issued, the officials remained silent, and no one dared to speak up again. The emperor grew even more troubled.

He Neihan returned home after leaving court and told Li Bai about the situation. Li Bai sneered slightly and said, “Can you lend me, Li, your help? Last year I failed the exams and became an official, so I can’t share this burden with the emperor.” He Neihan was shocked and said, “Surely you are highly learned and capable enough to decipher that foreign letter. I will recommend you to the emperor.” The next day, He Zhizhang went to court and spoke out of turn, saying, “Your Majesty, I have a talented scholar in my family named Li Bai. He is extremely learned and capable. No one else is better suited to decipher that foreign letter than him.” The emperor agreed and sent an envoy to Li Bai’s residence to summon him. Li Bai told the envoy, “I am just an ordinary man from the countryside, lacking talent and knowledge. There are many accomplished scholars in the court already. Why should I be included? I dare to accept the imperial order, but I fear offending the high-ranking officials.” By saying “fear offending the high-ranking officials,” he was subtly criticizing Yang and Gao. The envoy reported back to the emperor. At first, the emperor asked He Zhizhang, “Why won’t Li Bai accept the imperial order?” He Zhizhang replied, “I know that Li Bai’s writings are outstanding and his knowledge astonishing. It’s only because last year, the examiners unfairly graded his paper, causing him to leave in shame. Asking him to appear before the court in plain clothes would embarrass him. I beg Your Majesty to show mercy and send another high-ranking official; he will surely accept the order.”

The emperor said, “As you have suggested, I hereby grant Li Bai the title of Jinshi. He shall be dressed in a purple robe with a gold belt, and wear a gauze hat as he presents himself before me. I entrust you to go and welcome him personally—do not refuse!”

He Zhizhang took the imperial order back home and asked Feng Bai to read it aloud, explaining in detail the emperor’s desire to find a talented person. Li Bai put on the imperial robes and bowed in gratitude. Then he rode horseback with He Zhizhang to the palace, where Emperor Xuanzong was waiting for him on his throne. When Li Bai arrived at the golden steps, he bowed and danced in thanks, standing upright. Upon seeing Li Bai, the emperor felt as though he had found treasure after poverty, light after darkness, food after hunger, and clouds after drought. He spoke in a solemn voice, saying, “There is now a letter from a foreign country whose language no one can understand. I have summoned you specifically to help me deal with this issue.” Li Bai bowed and replied, “Due to my limited knowledge, I was rejected by the examiners, and the officer pushed me out. As for this foreign letter, why not let the examiners respond? Why keep these foreign officials here? I was only qualified to judge scholars, not to act as an examiner. How can I fulfill the emperor’s wishes?” The emperor said, “I know your abilities well. Do not refuse!” He then ordered his attendants to give Li Bai the foreign letter to read. After reading it, Li Bai smirked slightly, then translated it into Chinese before reading it fluently. The letter read:

“The kingdom of Bohai sends this poisonous letter to the Tang dynasty officials. Since you have taken over Goryeo, your territory borders ours, and your soldiers frequently invade our lands. This is clearly the work of your imperial court. We can no longer tolerate this. We send officials to propose that you hand over 176 cities in Goryeo to us, and in return, we will offer you valuable gifts: the herbs from Daibai Mountain, kelp from the South Sea, drums from Zhecheng, deer from Fujian, silk from Guoyue, horses from Shubin, cotton from Wozhou, carp from the Chunlun River, plums from Wandu, and pears from Leyou. Your officials will all receive their share. If you still refuse, we will send troops to fight. Let’s see which side will win!”

When the officials heard the translation of the letter, they were shocked and looked at each other in dismay, all exclaiming, “This is difficult!” The emperor was displeased upon hearing the letter. After pondering for a long time, he asked the civil and military officials, “Now that that foreign country wants to send troops to take over Goryeo, what strategies do we have to counter them?” The officials stood there like statues, none daring to speak. He Zhizhang suggested, “Since the great emperor launched three campaigns against Goryeo, countless lives were lost, yet victory was not achieved, leaving the national treasury depleted. Fortunately, Gai Suwen died, and his sons and brothers fought over power, giving us an opportunity. Emperor Gaozong sent experienced generals like Li Li and Xue Rengui with a million troops. After many battles, they finally defeated them. But now, with no generals or troops available, if war breaks out again, victory is uncertain. The consequences could be severe—when will it end? I urge the emperor to consider this carefully!” The emperor asked, “How should we reply to them?” He Zhizhang said, “If Your Majesty asks Li Bai, he will surely know how to craft a proper response.” The emperor then summoned Li Bai to ask him. Li Bai replied, “Your Majesty, this matter does not require your concern. When the foreign envoys come to court, I will personally respond to their letter, using the same style of writing as theirs.”

The text in the book speaks of humiliating the Tubo people; it says that the Tubo kingdom must submit through deception. The emperor asked, “Who should be deceived?” Li Bai replied, “In the customs of Bohai, their king is called ‘Kedu’. Just as the Uyghurs call their leader ‘Khan’, the Tubo call theirs ‘Zanpu’, the Six Dynasties call theirs ‘Emperor’, and the Heling people call theirs ‘Simocheng’—each follows their own customs.” Seeing his endless responses, the emperor was greatly pleased and immediately appointed him as a Hanlin scholar. A banquet was held in the Golden Throne Hall, with musicians playing continuously, zithers and sevens making noise, concubines serving wine, and maids passing cups around. An imperial edict was issued: “Lord Li, you may drink to your heart’s content; there’s no need to follow formalities.” Li Bai drank as much as he could until he became drunk and weak. The emperor ordered eunuchs to help him rest aside in the hall.

The next day, at the fifth watch, the emperor ascended the hall. Three sharp cracks from the whip signaled that all civil and military officials were in place. Li Bai, still half-asleep from his drinking, was urged by the eunuchs to attend court. After all the officials had paid their respects, the emperor summoned Li Bai to the hall. His face still showed signs of drunkenness, and his eyes were blurred. The emperor instructed the eunuchs to prepare a soup made from fish to sober him up. Soon, an eunuch brought over a bowl of the fish soup on a golden plate. Seeing that the soup was very hot, the emperor personally stirred it for a while before offering it to Scholar Li. Li Bai knelt down and ate it, feeling instantly refreshed. At that time, the officials were both surprised and delighted by the emperor’s favor toward Li Bai—surprised by the unusual treatment, and delighted because they believed they had found a capable person. Only Yang Guozhong and Gao Lishi showed signs of displeasure. An imperial edict was issued to summon the Tubo envoy to court. After the envoy bowed in greeting, Li Bai, dressed in purple robes with a gauze hat, stood under one of the columns on the left, holding the Tubo documents and reading aloud. Not a single word was incorrect, which terrified the Tubo envoy. Li Bai said, “This small nation has been rude. Your Majesty’s magnanimity is like that of a master craftsman; ignore their mistakes and issue an edict in response. You should listen quietly!” The Tubo official trembled with fear and knelt at the steps. The emperor ordered a seven-jewel bed to be set beside his throne, along with five inkstones made of jade, brushes with ivory handles, especially fragrant ink, and paper decorated with golden flowers in five colors—all neatly arranged. Li Bai was allowed to sit near the imperial couch on a brocade cushion. Li Bai said, “My boots are dirty and unworthy. If it’s alright with Your Majesty, I beg for your grace to allow me to take off my boots and socks before sitting.” The emperor agreed and ordered a young eunuch to help Li Bai remove his boots. Li Bai then said, “I have one request. Please forgive my boldness before I dare to speak.” The emperor replied, “Speak freely; I won’t punish you for it.” Li Bai continued, “Previously, when I took the imperial examination, Master Yang rejected me, and Captain Gao drove me away. Today, seeing those two together, my spirit isn’t high. I beg Your Majesty to order Yang Guozhong to help me grind the ink, and Gao Lishi to help me remove my boots and socks. Only then can I feel confident enough to write the edict on behalf of heaven and fulfill my duty without disgracing your command.” The emperor, not wanting to disappoint him, issued an order saying, “Yang Guozhong, grind the ink; Gao Lishi, remove his boots.” Both men inwardly resented having been treated lightly by him during the previous examination. They thought, “A scholar like this is only good enough to grind ink and remove boots for us.” Now, relying on the emperor’s temporary favor, he came to retaliate for past grievances. With no choice but to obey the imperial order, they did as commanded. As the saying goes: “Enemies should not be made friends, for once friends, there’s no end to conflict. Those who insult others end up insulting themselves; those who speak of others end up speaking of themselves.”

At this time, Li Bai was filled with pride. He put on his boots and sat on the brocade cushion. Yang Guozhong ground the ink to a thick consistency and stood ready with the inkstone. Although their ranks were different, why did the Grand Scholar sit while Master Yang had to stand? Because Li Bai spoke on behalf of heaven, the emperor treated him with special honors. Master Yang was ordered to grind the ink; although he had once been granted a seat, he could only stand. With his left hand, Li Bai stroked his beard, while with his right hand he raised a Zhongshan rabbit hair brush. He kept writing on the five-colored paper without pause, and soon a letter in the barbarian script was completed. The characters were neat and flawless. It was presented to the emperor, who was shocked—everything was in that strange script, and he couldn’t understand a single word. When it was shown to the officials, they were all terrified. The emperor ordered Li Bai to recite it. Li Bai then recited it aloud in front of the throne: “Emperor Kaiyuan of the Great Tang, by imperial decree, commands that Bohai be subdued. In the past, even stone eggs were not enough to defeat them; snakes and dragons did not fight. This imperial edict brings peace to the world, governing the four seas. With brave soldiers and strong armor, Goguryeo broke its treaty and was captured. They forged oies as tokens of submission. Silla sent poems praising silk weaving; India brought birds that could speak; Persia offered snakes that could catch mice; Afghanistan sent dogs that could pull carts; white parrots came from Keling, and luminous pearls were offered from Linyi. Goguryeo submitted famous horses, while Nepal offered fine wine. All did so out of fear of power and reverence for virtue, seeking peace. Goguryeo refused the order, so heaven sent further punishment. For nine hundred years it endured, but in one day it was destroyed—isn’t this a sign of heaven’s displeasure and a clear lesson?” As for those small overseas states, vassals of Goguryeo, compared to China they are nothing more than a single prefecture. Their soldiers, horses, food, and resources are far inferior. If they act arrogantly like mantises or oies, heaven’s army will strike, causing bloodshed over thousands of miles. Their rulers will end up like Goguryeo’s captives, and their countries will become part of Goguryeo. Now, with the emperor’s great wisdom, he tolerates their recklessness. They should quickly repent, work hard on state affairs, and not provoke punishment and become a laughingstock among the foreign nations. They should think carefully! Thus is the admonition.

The emperor was overjoyed upon hearing this and ordered Li Bai to read it aloud to the foreign officials once more, then place it in a box. Li Bai had Captain Gao put on his boots before leaving the hall, and called the foreign officials to hear the edict. Li Bai read it again, his voice resonant and powerful. The foreign envoys dared not make a sound; their faces turned red, and they couldn’t help but bow and dance in celebration as they bid farewell. As the Grand Scholar escorted them out of the city, one of the envoys asked privately, “Who was the one who read the edict just now?” The Grand Scholar replied, “His surname is Li, his name is Bai. He holds the position of Hanlin Academician.” The envoy said, “What a high-ranking official! Yet Master Yang had to hold the inkstone, and Captain Gao had to take off his boots?” The Grand Scholar replied, “Master Yang and other high officials are the most noble people in the world. But that Academician Li is like a celestial being descended from heaven to support the imperial court. Who else could compare?” The envoy nodded and left. Back in his country, he told his king about it. After reading the imperial letter, the king was shocked. He discussed it with his people—how could they possibly resist an empire backed by a celestial being? They wrote a letter of surrender, willing to pay tribute every year and come to pay homage annually. This is the sequel.

Introduction:
The story has two parts. Now, since the emperor held Li Bai in high esteem, he wanted to grant him even higher positions. Li Bai submitted a request, saying, “I am willing to accept the position, but I wish to live a carefree life, serving at the emperor’s side, just like Dongfang Shuo in the Han dynasty.” The emperor said, “Since you refuse the position, all my gold, white jade, and precious treasures are at your disposal.” Li Bai replied, “I also…”

He refused the gold from Jin Wu, preferring to follow His Majesty on his tours. Three thousand cups of fine wine a day would be sufficient for him. “The Emperor knew of Li Bai’s noble character and could not force him. From then on, he was often entertained with banquets, stayed in the Golden Throne Hall, and was consulted on state affairs; his favor grew day by day. One day, as Li Bai rode through the streets of Chang’an, he suddenly heard the sound of drums and gongs. He saw a group of guards leading a prison cart. Li Bai stopped his horse and inquired, only to learn that it was an officer from Bingzhou who was being taken to the East Market to be executed. Inside the cart was a handsome man, extremely valiant in appearance. When asked his name, his voice sounded like a loud bell—he replied, ‘My surname is Guo, and my name is Ziyi.’ Seeing his extraordinary appearance, Li Bai realized he would surely become a pillar of the nation. So he ordered the guards, ‘Wait! Let me go before the Emperor and plead for his mercy.’ Everyone knew this was Scholar Li Bai, the one who personally prepared meals for the Emperor, so none dared disobey. Li Bai immediately turned his horse around, went straight to the palace gates, requested an audience with the Emperor, and obtained an imperial edict. He went to the East Market himself, read out the edict, opened the prison cart, freed Ziyi, and allowed him to atone for his crimes. Ziyi thanked Li Bai for saving his life, vowing to repay him someday. This incident will not be further recounted.

At that time, peonies were highly valued in the palace, brought as tribute from Yangzhou. Today they are called peonies, but during the Tang Dynasty they were known as wood peonies. Four such plants were grown in the palace, blooming in four different colors: bright red, deep purple, light red, and pure white. Emperor Xuanzong planted them in front of the Incense-Scented Pavilion for Empress Yang Guifei to admire, and ordered the musicians of the Lyre Garden to play music. The Emperor said, “To enjoy these beautiful flowers with my consort, why use old melodies?” He then ordered Li Gui Nian, the head of the Lyre Garden, to summon Scholar Li. A court servant said, “Scholar Li has gone to a tavern in Chang’an City.” Without hesitation, Li Gui Nian headed straight to Chang’an City. There, he heard someone singing in a large tavern:

Three cups lead to the path of truth,
One dou brings harmony with nature.
The joy lies in wine alone—
Don’t tell those who are sober.

Li Gui Nian thought, “If it’s not Scholar Li, then who could it be?” He rushed up the stairs and saw Li Bai sitting alone at a small table. In a vase on the table was a branch of pink peach blossoms. Li Bai was drinking alone in front of the flowers, already heavily drunk. Li Gui Nian stepped forward and said, “The Emperor is summoning you at the Incense-Scented Pavilion. Hurry!” Hearing the imperial order, all the drinkers were shocked and stood up to watch. Li Bai paid no attention, opened his drunken eyes, and recited a line from Tao Yuanming’s poem: “I’m drunk and about to sleep; please leave.” After saying this, he closed his eyes and seemed about to fall asleep. Li Gui Nian, determined, signaled from below the window, and seven or eight attendants rushed upstairs. Without delay, they helped lift Scholar Li Bai to his horse. Li Gui Nian followed on horseback, leading them straight to the Five Phoenix Towers. The Emperor sent more court servants to hurry them along, issuing an order to “ride quickly to the palace.” Li Gui Nian didn’t help Li Bai dismount but assisted together with the court servants until they reached the inner palace, passed by Xingqing Pond, and arrived at the Incense-Scented Pavilion. The Emperor saw...

Li Bai remained on horseback with his eyes tightly closed, still unconscious. The emperor ordered his eunuchs to place a purple bucket beside the pavilion and help Bai dismount from the horse. He lay down for a while. The emperor went to check on him personally and saw foam coming from Bai’s mouth; he then used his sleeve to wipe it away. The imperial concubine suggested, “I’ve heard that washing the face with cold water can help someone wake up.” So the emperor ordered his eunuchs to fetch water from Xingqing Pond and have the maids spray it on Bai. Bai woke up in his dream, saw the emperor, was terrified, and knelt down, saying, “I deserve death! I am but a drunkard; please forgive me, Your Majesty!” The emperor helped him up and said, “Today we are enjoying the beautiful flowers with the concubine; we need new poems. That’s why I summoned you—to compose three pieces of ‘Qingping Diao’.” Li Gui Nian handed Bai a sheet of paper for writing. Still drunk, Bai quickly composed three poems.

The first one went like this:
I imagine her clothes like clouds, her beauty like flowers;
The spring breeze brings thick dew to the railing.
If not for seeing her atop Mount Qunyu,
I would have met her under the moonlight on Yao Terrace.

The second one read:
Her red beauty shines with dewy fragrance;
The memories of Wushan linger in my heart.
It’s hard to find someone like her in the Han palace;
Pity Fei Yan, adorned in her new makeup!

The third one said:
Beautiful flowers and a stunning woman delight each other;
May the king always watch them with a smile.
I understand the endless sorrow of the spring breeze;
By the railing of Chenshang Pavilion...

After reading the poems, the emperor praised them highly, saying, “With such talent, he surely surpasses many scholars in the Hanlin Academy.” He immediately ordered Li Gui Nian to sing according to the melody, with musicians playing instruments, and the emperor himself played the jade flute to accompany him. After the song ended, the imperial concubine bowed again in gratitude. The emperor said, “Don’t thank me; thank the scholars instead!” The concubine took a glass filled with wine from Xiliang and personally poured it for the scholars to drink. The emperor also ordered that Li Bai be allowed to roam throughout the palace gardens freely, with eunuchs providing him with fine wine to drink as much as he wanted. From then on, at every palace banquet, Li Bai was often summoned, and even the imperial concubine loved and valued him greatly.

Gao Lishi resented deeply the incident with the boots and could do nothing about it. One day, as the imperial concubine recited those three poems again, leaning on the railing with longing, Gao Lishi saw no one around and took the opportunity to say, “At first, I thought that when Mother heard these poems by Bai, she would be filled with resentment. Why is she so fond of him instead?” The concubine asked, “What is there to resent?” Gao Lishi replied, “In the line ‘Pity Fei Yan, adorned in her new makeup,’ Fei Yan’s surname was Zhao; she was a descendant of Emperor Cheng of the Western Han Dynasty. In the painting, there’s a warrior holding a golden plate, with a woman inside raising her sleeves to dance—that’s Zhao Fei Yan. She had a slender waist and graceful steps; even thousands of beauties holding flower branches trembled in admiration before Emperor Cheng...”

She was extremely favored. Who would have thought that Fei Yan was connected to Yan Chi Feng and hid inside a hidden wall? When Emperor Cheng entered the palace, he heard coughing coming from inside the wall; upon searching, he found Chi Feng and killed him. He wanted to depose Empress Zhao, but she was saved by her sister He De, and as a result, he never entered the main palace again. Today, Li Bai compares Fei Yan to the Empress—this is slanderous talk. How can the Empress take it lightly?” It turned out that at that time, the Imperial Concubine had adopted the Turkic man An Lushan as her foster son, allowing him to come and go in the palace and having an affair with him. Everyone in the palace knew about this, except Emperor Xuanzong. Gao Lishi’s mention of Fei Yan struck right at her heart. Thus, the Imperial Concubine harbored resentment and often said in front of the emperor that Li Bai was frivolous and disrespectful as a courtier. Seeing that the emperor disfavored Li Bai, he stopped inviting him to imperial banquets or letting him stay in the palace. Realizing that Gao Lishi had harmed him and that the emperor intended to keep him at a distance, Li Bai repeatedly asked to leave, but the emperor refused. So he indulged in drinking even more, becoming self-destructive. He became friends with He Zhizhang, Li Shizhi, Prince Zangyang Ban, Cui Zongzhi, Su Jin, Zhang Xu, and Jiao Sui, and they were known as the “Eight Immortals of the Bamboo Grove.”

It is said that Emperor Xuanzong truly loved Li Bai deeply, but due to a lack of harmony in the palace, he kept him at a distance. Seeing that Li Bai repeatedly asked to return home, feeling no longer constrained, the emperor said to him, “Your aspirations are noble and lofty. I allow you to return temporarily; I will call you back soon. But since you have done great services for me, how can you leave empty-handed? Whatever you need, I will provide it for you.” Li Bai replied, “I need nothing. As long as I have enough money to buy wine and get drunk every day, that is enough.” The emperor then bestowed upon him a gold plaque inscribed with, “By imperial decree, Li Bai is granted the title of ‘Scholar Without Worries Under Heaven.’ He may drink wherever he goes, draw money from the treasury as needed. The central government shall provide a thousand strings of coins, and local governments shall provide five hundred. Any civil or military official who shows disrespect shall be punished as if violating an imperial edict.” He also gave Li Bai a thousand taels of gold, a brocade robe and jade belt, a golden saddle and dragon horse, along with twenty attendants. Li Bai bowed in gratitude. The emperor then gave him two golden flowers and three cups of imperial wine. He mounted his horse in front of the emperor and left. All officials took time off to see him off, accompanying him with wine all the way from Chang’an Street to the Ten-Mile Pavilion, with continuous feasting. Only Master Yang and Captain Gao refused to see him off out of resentment. Among them, only He Zhizhang and the other six drinking companions accompanied him for a hundred miles before parting after three days. In Li Bai’s collection is a poem titled “Farewell to My Friends at the Golden Gate Before Returning to the Mountains,” which roughly reads:

Grateful for the imperial decree,
I rise from the misty groves.
One day I leave the Golden Horse Palace,
And drift like a tumbleweed.

In my leisure, I chant in Dongwu,
The melody ends, yet my feelings remain.
I write this to thank my friends,
And seek a fisherman in a small boat.

Dressed in brocade and wearing a gauze hat, Li Bai mounted his horse and set off on his journey, known throughout the way as the “Young Man in Brocade.” Indeed, he could drink wherever he went and draw money from the treasury. The next day, he returned to Jinzhou and met with Lady Xu. When the officials heard that Scholar Li had returned home, they all came to congratulate him, and he was drunk almost every day. Days turned into months, and before he knew it, half a year had passed. One day, Li Bai faced Lady Xu...

He said he wanted to go out to enjoy the scenery, dress in the style of a scholar, hide an imperial gold medal on him, take a young servant with him, ride a strong donkey, and travel at will. The expenses for wine in the counties were to be provided as per regulations. One day, while traveling through Huayin County, he heard people say that the county magistrate there was greedy and harmed the people, ruining their livelihoods. He decided to deal with him. When he arrived at the county gate, he told his servant to go back, then rode his donkey alone and knocked three times at the gate. The magistrate, who was in his office handling official matters, saw this and exclaimed, “Detestable! How dare you harass an official!” He immediately ordered his clerks to bring the man before him for questioning. Li Bai pretended to be drunk and refused to answer questions. The magistrate ordered the jailers to lock him up until he sobered up, so that he could confess properly and a decision could be made later. The jailer took Feng Bai to the prison. When Feng Bai saw the prison officer, he laughed heartily. The prison officer asked, “Is this man insane?” Li Bai replied, “Neither insane nor crazy.” The prison officer said, “If you’re not insane, then confess properly. Who are you? Why are you here riding a donkey and annoying the county magistrate?” Li Bai said, “If you want me to confess, bring me paper and pen.” The jailer placed paper and pen on the desk, and Li Bai pulled the prison officer aside and said, “Step aside so I can write.” The prison officer laughed and said, “Let’s see what this madman writes!” Li Bai wrote:

“I am from Jinzhou, my surname is Li and my given name is Bai. At a young age I already excelled in writing; my talent was so great that even gods and demons feared it. I was among the Eight Immortals in Chang’an and known as one of the Six Recluse Scholars. I once wrote letters to intimidate barbarians, earning fame throughout the land. I often accompanied the emperor in his chariot and slept in his golden palace. I had the honor of tasting food prepared by the emperor’s hands and wiping his robe with my saliva. I made high-ranking officials take off their boots and helped Grand Tutor Yang grind ink. In the emperor’s palace, I was allowed to ride a horse, but in Huayin County, they won’t let me ride a donkey? Please check the imperial gold medal to see my identity.”

After writing, he handed it to the prison officer. The officer was terrified and bowed deeply, saying, “Sir, I was sent here by my superiors; I had no choice. Please forgive me!” Li Bai said, “It’s none of your business. Just tell the magistrate that I came here by imperial order. What crime have I committed to be imprisoned here?” The officer thanked him and quickly presented the confession to the magistrate, explaining that there was an imperial order. The magistrate was like a child hearing thunder for the first time; he had no way out and had to go to the prison with the officer to meet the learned scholar. He knelt down and pleaded, “I now realize my mistake. Please show mercy!” All the officials present also came to beg, asking the scholar to sit in the office. After all the officials had bowed, Li Bai took out the imperial gold medal and showed it to them. On the medal it read, “Whenever the scholar arrives, any civil or military official, soldier, or commoner who shows disrespect shall be punished as if they’ve violated the emperor’s edict.” The officials looked at the edict and bowed their heads, saying, “We deserve death.” Seeing their earnest pleas, Li Bai smiled and said, “You receive titles and salaries from the state—why then do you engage in greed and harm the people? If you change your ways, your crimes may be forgiven.” Hearing this, everyone bowed their heads and promised to obey, never to commit such acts again. A grand banquet was held in the office to entertain the scholar for three days.

The prefect cleansed his heart and rid himself of worries, thus becoming a good governor. When news of this reached other provinces, everyone guessed that the court had sent Scholar Li out to observe local conditions and assess governance, turning greed into integrity and cruelty into kindness.

Li Bai traveled throughout Zhao, Wei, Yan, Jin, Qi, Liang, Wu, and Chu, indulging in the pleasures of poetry and wine amidst beautiful landscapes. Later, due to An Lushan’s rebellion, Emperor Minghuang fled to Shu, executed Guo Zhong in the army, and hanged Concubine Guiliu in a Buddhist temple. Li Bai hid in the mountains to avoid the chaos. At that time, Prince Yong served as the military governor of the southeast and secretly harbored ambitions to proclaim himself emperor. Hearing of Li Bai’s great talent, he forced him to come down from the mountains, offering him a fake position. Li Bai complied and was detained in the prince’s headquarters. Soon after, Emperor Suzong ascended the throne in Lingwu and appointed Guo Ziyi as the supreme commander of the troops to recapture the two capitals. Someone reported that Prince Yong was plotting rebellion, so Emperor Suzong sent Guo Ziyi with his troops to suppress him. After Prince Yong’s defeat, Li Bai was able to escape and fled to Yangjiangkou, where he was captured by the river guards who considered him a rebel and brought him before General Guo. When Guo Ziyi recognized him as Scholar Li, he ordered his soldiers to back off, personally untied him, and seated him in a high place. Li Bai immediately bowed and said, “In the eastern market of Chang’an once, if it weren’t for your kindness in saving me, I wouldn’t be here today.” Guo Ziyi then ordered wine to be prepared to calm Li Bai’s shock, wrote a report that night, presenting it to the emperor to clear Li Bai’s name and recounting his achievements in subduing the barbarians, recommending that his talents be put to good use. This was an act of kindness repaid. Truly, “Two duckweeds float back to the sea; where in life can one not meet again?”

By then, Yang Guozhong was dead, and Gao Lishi had been exiled far away. Emperor Xuanzong brought Li Bai back from Shu and honored him as a great scholar. Emperor Suzong then appointed Li Bai as a Left Censor. Li Bai lamented being trapped in the political world and unable to live freely, so he declined the position. After bidding farewell to Guo Ziyi, he went boating to Dongting and Yueyang, then passed through Jinling and moored by Qianshi River. That night, the moon shone as bright as day. Li Bai drank heartily by the river when suddenly he heard music in the sky, growing louder as it approached the boat. Everyone on board went down to listen, but only Li Bai could hear it. Suddenly, strong winds and waves arose in the river, and several giant whales rose vigorously. Two celestial boys, holding banners, came before Li Bai and said, “The heavens send us to welcome the Star Lord back to his throne.” Everyone on the boat was shocked, but soon regained their senses. They saw Scholar Li sitting on the back of a whale, accompanied by music, rising into the air. The next day, they told this incident to Li Yangbing, the magistrate of Dangtu County. Li Yangbing prepared a formal report and submitted it to the emperor. The emperor ordered a shrine to be built on Qianshi Mountain in honor of Li Bai, with sacrifices offered twice a year.

During the Taiping Xingguo era of the Song dynasty, a scholar crossed the Caishi River on a moonlit night and saw a sail coming from the west, with a white plaque at the bow bearing the words “Poetry Master.” The scholar then recited two lines: “Who is called the Poetry Master on the river? Let me see your splendid writings!” Someone on the boat replied, “It’s too quiet at night to compose a quatrain; I fear I might startle the stars and cause them to fall into the cold river.” The scholar was greatly surprised and wanted to go to the boat, but it had already moored below Qianshi. The person on the boat wore purple clothes and a gauze hat, looking like a celestial being, and entered directly into Li Bai’s shrine. The scholar searched for him later in the poems, but found no trace of him.

Only then did he realize that the poet was none other than Li Bai. To this day, people call him “the Immortal of Wine” and “the Lord of Poetry,” all recognizing Li Bai as the greatest. It is said:

His talent shone through even in his crude writings; the emperor personally bestowed gifts upon him. Ever since he rode the whale to heaven, the rivers and colorful stones bear traces of his sorrow.

Volume Ten: Poem Inscribed by Qian Sheren at the Swallow Tower

Do not gaze at the fireworks and beautiful scenery here; this place is still known as the Swallow Tower. How can one forget the memories of March? How can one escape a lifetime of worries? It’s hard to dance again after everything has fallen apart; lotuses bloom alone, never side by side. Even the most charming ones have their flaws. To this day, people speak of its romantic charm.

It is said that from the time of Emperor Taizong, the great sage and pious ruler who founded the dynasty, until Emperor Xianzong took the throne, a total of 193 years passed. For a long time, there were no conflicts in the land; weapons lay unused, and torture instruments were not employed. At that time, Zhang Jianfeng, the Minister of Rites, had served for many years and feared he might hinder the advancement of talented individuals, so he requested to retire to farm and spend his days in retirement. Emperor Xianzong said, “Your age is not advanced yet; why should you retire? If you truly wish to avoid complicated duties, I will assign you to govern several provinces in Qing and Xu.” Jianfeng replied, “Though my talents are modest, having received your grace, I will surely do my best.” Thus, he was ordered to oversee military affairs in Wuning, which made Jianfeng very happy. He had always valued talent and hospitality; now that he was in charge of Wuning, he selected capable people and treated them with respect. Later, he hired singers and dancers who knew both literature and etiquette. In Wuning, there was a dancer named Guan Panpan, who was considered the most beautiful woman in the region. She was described as follows:

Her singing voice was clear and melodious; her dancing movements were graceful and elegant. She played musical instruments to create new melodies, and her performances were refined and artistic. She played ancient tunes on the zither and devised new strategies in chess. She composed poems and crafted sentences, reflecting elegance and grace in her writing. Her skills in painting and art were so superb that they seemed to surpass nature itself. Although Jianfeng heard of her unparalleled talent and beauty, at the beginning of his tenure he didn’t have time to summon her. One day, Liu Yue, a scholar from Chang’an, passed by Jianfeng’s residence. Delighted by Liu Yue’s visit, Jianfeng invited him to his mansion for a feast. There, one could see:

Drapes with tassels, curtains of red silk. Incense smoke rose like precious ducks, filling the air with fragrance. The light from the jade pots was dazzling. Fruits were sliced like celestial nectar, and dishes featured unique flavors. Women adorned in pearls and jewels stood in two rows, their faces painted like plum blossoms. Melodies played from various instruments, creating a harmonious and elegant sound. Everywhere, dancers wore Sichuan brocade, and songs were sung with rhythmic beats.

By then, several rounds of wine had been served, two sets of dishes were on the table, the singing never ceased, and the dancing stopped as well. Suddenly, a courtesan stood before the banquet, holding a lute, adjusting its strings with her sleeves, and playing a solo piece. Her delicate hands gently plucked and pressed the strings. The pleasant fragrance in the room dispelled the effects of the wine, while the elegant music alleviated all worries. After finishing the piece, she stood there still holding the lute. Jianfeng and Le Tian both admired the elegance of her music. Observing her appearance and demeanor, they saw a rosy complexion, beautiful eyes like cut water, and an innate grace that far surpassed those of her peers. Looking at the other courtesans, their makeup was equally fine. Jianfeng then asked, “Whose daughter are you?” The courtesan, still holding the lute, stepped forward slowly and replied, “I am the humble servant Guan Panpan.” Jianfeng was delighted and said to Le Tian with a smile, “The joys of Peng’s household truly lie in such things.” Le Tian replied, “A beauty like this, whose name is known throughout the capital—surely it’s no exaggeration!” Jianfeng said, “If what you say is true, why not compose a poem for her?” Le Tian hesitated, saying, “I’m afraid my verses might belittle her beauty.” Panpan set down the lute, covered her face with her sleeve, and said, “I’m ugly in appearance; how dare I ask for your gifts? If you don’t reject me because of my lowly status, then my humble life may be immortalized through your elegant writings—how much better than being forgotten after death!” Le Tian admired her cleverness and immediately recited a quatrain:

The phoenix plucks golden feathers on the floor,
Behind the sandalwood soundbox, her hair hangs down.
Drunk and coy, she has no strength left,
Bathed in the breeze by the peony branches.

Panpan thanked Le Tian, saying, “It’s thanks to you that my name will be passed down to future generations.” Thus, the guests and host enjoyed themselves until they were drunk and then dispersed.

The next day, Le Tian left by carriage. From then on, Jianfeng favored Panpan especially. He selected a nice spot in his mansion to build a pavilion called “Swallow Tower,” where Panpan lived. In his spare time from governing, Jianfeng would secretly go there to dine with her. They exchanged poetic verses, played musical instruments together, cuddled close, sang in harmony by the windows, used flowers and the moon as themes in their poems, discussed love in their conversations, and made vows beneath the pines. Their love grew deeper with songs, laughter, music, and affection.

Unfortunately, good times don’t last forever. Jianfeng fell ill. Panpan sought doctors to treat him, but the medicine was ineffective, and fortune-telling also brought no luck. His condition worsened until he died. His descendants took care of his remains and buried him in Beilang, leaving Panpan alone in the Swallow Tower. The fragrance faded, clothes and bedding piled up, dust covered the lute and instruments, the red doors remained shut for long, and the green curtains stayed untouched. Panpan burned incense and swore to heaven, “As a woman, having no other way to repay the minister’s kindness, I vow to become a nun, recite Buddhist scriptures to bless his soul, and spend the rest of my life never remarrying.” She then closed herself away and lived alone for ten years, with no one seeing her. There were kind gentlemen among the officials who admired her talent and beauty and pitied her lonely fate. They secretly wrote to her to express their feelings. Panpan responded with over three hundred poems, which were compiled into a collection titled “The Swallow Tower Collection,” and these poems have been passed down through the ages.

One day, a cool breeze dispelled the heat, and dew brought freshness. Geese flew across the sky, their cries echoing through the grass. The quiet courtyard was empty, bathed in the autumn hues. Panpan leaned on the railing, sighing deeply, and said to herself, “All the poems I write express sorrow and distress. I wonder if others can understand my feelings?” After pondering for a long time, she thought that Bai Juyi surely would understand her. So she composed three short poems, sealed them up, and gave them to an old servant to deliver to Le Tian, expressing her true feelings and ensuring that she would not fail Bai Juyi’s kindness. She then wrote three quatrains, sealed them, and sent them off.

The old servant rushed to Xiluo to hand them to Bai Juyi. When Le Tian received the poems, he unsealed them and read them. The first one read:

In the north, pine and cypress lock away sorrowful mist;
In the Swallow Tower, thoughts linger quietly.
With crown and sword buried, songs fade away;
Twenty years have passed since those fragrant sleeves vanished.

The second one read:

Just now I saw geese returning from Yueyang;
I also saw birds bringing offerings for the festival.
The zither and flute hold no emotions left;
Let them be covered in dust by spider webs.

The third one read:

On the tower, a dim lamp faces the morning frost;
Alone, I rise from the bed of love.
How much longing remains after one night?
Even the ends of the earth aren’t long enough!

After reading them, Le Tian admired them for a long time. Thinking that such a woman could preserve her chastity so well, how could he not respond? He also composed three poems in return to praise her, sending the old servant back quickly. When Panpan received them, she opened them. The first one read:

Her silk robe, like smoke in pale light;
Every time I look, she disappears.
Since she stopped performing the “Rainbow Skirt” dance,
How many years has it been since she lay in that empty box?

The second one read:

Today, a guest returns from Luoyang;
He visited the minister’s house.
They said poplar trees make good pillars—
How could beauty turn to dust like that?

The third one read:

The moon shines behind the curtains, frost fills the courtyard;
Cold and alone, I lie in bed.
Rain falls on the Swallow Tower at night;
In autumn, it’s all for one person’s sake.

Panpan pondered these poems for a long time. Though she had received precious gifts, none could compare to the beauty of these poems. She laughed and said to her maid, “From now on, these will truly show my sincere feelings.” Just as she was about to put them away, she noticed a few lines written in light ink at the end of the paper. She unfolded it again and found another poem there.

Gold is spent to buy beautiful brows, yet only one flower-like beauty is chosen.
All efforts put into singing and dancing are in vain; once death comes, they cannot be together.

Upon reading this poem, Panpan’s brows furrowed with sorrow, her face filled with tears. Crying bitterly, she said to her maid, “When the minister died, I wished I could hang myself and join him. I feared people would say Master Zhang had a concubine who died with him, tarnishing his reputation for integrity. Now I live on, hoping the world will know the truth, hence I wrote this poem as a satire. If I don’t die now, the slander will continue.” She then composed a reply:

Alone in an empty room, I hide my sorrowful brows; my body is like a withered branch after spring.
Others don’t understand my deep feelings; I mock them by saying I won’t follow them to the underworld.

After writing, she threw her pen on the ground and covered her face, sighing deeply. After a while, wiping away her tears, she told her maid, “I have no way to repay his kindness. The only way is to die by jumping from a building to express my feelings.” With that, she tightly gripped the embroidered sleeve of her dress, leaned against the carved railing, determined to repay his kindness despite not wanting to live on. Looking down at the tall building, she leaped forward. Her maid quickly pulled at her clothes, saying, “Why seek such early death?” Panpan replied, “My sincere feelings cannot be expressed otherwise—why live if not?” Her maid persuaded her, saying, “Though it’s noble to sacrifice your life to repay his kindness, what good will it do him if you’re destroyed? And what will take care of your old mother?” After long contemplation, Panpan said, “Since death isn’t an option, I’ll only recite Buddhist scriptures and pray for his soul’s peace.” From then on, she ate only plain food, closed herself in a chamber, burned incense, and sat reciting Buddhist scriptures. Though she never saw anyone else, over time her hair grew disheveled, her brows lost their charm, she grew tired of playing the zither and lute, and lost interest in her luxurious bed. She stopped using makeup, resembling a plum blossom about to wither in spring; her waist became thin, like willows along the riversides after autumn. Whenever flowers bloomed or the moon shone, she felt sad and lost her appetite and sleep. Unfortunately, she fell ill and lay bedridden for months, never recovering. Her old mother then chose a auspicious spot and buried her behind the Swallow Tower.

Less than twenty years after Panpan’s death, her descendants declined and scattered. The Swallow Tower where she lived was taken over by the government. Other nearby gardens were transformed into parks for local officials to enjoy. As time passed, the Tang dynasty came to an end and the Five Dynasties followed. Before the Zhou Xiande era, Tian Shui Zhen Ren rose to power, restoring order in the court and standardizing rituals. Under his leadership, evil forces were eradicated, and the world became peaceful. By the time of the Song dynasty, there were no major threats across the land. At that time, there was a court official named Qian Yi, styled Xi Bai, who was a descendant of Qian Luo from Wu Yue. He excelled in literature and rhetoric and held a high position in the court. Desiring to serve in a distant province, he took the opportunity to submit a petition saying, “I’ve long held a high position but haven’t achieved anything. Please assign me a small province so I can serve diligently.” The emperor replied, “The lands of Qinglu are fertile and its people are virtuous. You may govern Pengmen.” Thus, Xi Bai was appointed to command the Wuning Army. He thanked the emperor for his grace.

On the day of the car festival, he promoted imperial governance and reformed regulations; he visited the poor in villages and towns and those wronged in prisons; he humbled himself when dealing with others and personally encouraged farming; with kindness and compassion, he tried to reform the wicked and stubborn. Everyone fulfilled their duties, abided by agreements, and acted with integrity and fairness. After governing for over a month, the Qingming Festival arrived. During his free time, having nothing to enjoy, he walked alone on the eastern steps. The weather was pleasantly warm, offering no distractions, so he called his servant to lead him on a leisurely stroll through the garden. What he saw was:

The clear sunlight shone through the clouds, creating a serene atmosphere. Small peach blossoms displayed their rosy faces, while tender willows swayed gently like slender waists. A secluded pavilion stood quietly hidden in the shade of the flower beds, and orchids bloomed gracefully along the banks of the pond. Birds sang continuously in the spring light, while butterflies flitted about, their wings catching the light.

He decided to walk further into the fragrant area, enjoying the scenery at will. Among the red and purple blooms, there suddenly appeared a tall building with flying balconies. It stood majestically in the distance, its foundation high and its structure splendid. Xi Bai raised his eyes and saw an inscription beneath the roof reading “Swallow Tower.” Xi Bai said, “This was the place where Zhang Jianfeng doted on Panpan. Over the years, who would have thought such traces still existed!” He quickly climbed the stairs and entered the tower. What he saw there was:

The tower seemed to touch the clouds, with carved beams reaching high into the sky. From there, one could see the surroundings as if looking down from above, and distant lands as if within reach. Greenery shielded against the wind, while sheer curtains blocked out the sun. As he moved around, it seemed the clouds were close by; only by looking up did he realize how vast the universe truly was.

Xi Bai leaned on the railing and sighed deeply, saying, “In the past, Lord Zhang would sing and dance in celebration of wine. After his death, everything vanished like clouds dispersing after rain. Such things have always been the case throughout history, and there’s no need for lamentation. But it’s a pity that Panpan, though originally a prostitute, was willing to die to repay Zhang Jianfeng’s kindness. Even the bravest men couldn’t surpass such loyalty! Why then does Le Tian’s poem mock her for dying alongside Zhang Jianfeng? It’s truly sad that her resolve to remain chaste for over ten years and her pure heart were forgotten. Now that I know the whole story, if I remain silent in praise, Panpan will surely complain from beyond the grave.” He immediately called his servant to grind ink, dipped his brush, and wrote a long poem in an ancient style on a plain screen. The words read:

How many days does life afford us in a hundred years? Time passes by like an instant. Wine in the cup brings no joy, and empty fame after death serves no purpose. The governor of Qinghe was truly remarkable—he once planted peach and plum trees in the spring breeze. He wanted to cherish his feelings in the prime of life, but alas, beauty fades with the flowing water. The beautiful woman valued loyalty above her own life, willing to die to express her deep gratitude. Her three hundred verses convey her sentiments, cleansing the ears with their beauty. The tower reaches across the heavens, with lowered curtains locking away the swallows. Her charming soul can no longer be found—she remains, leaning on the railing in vain!

After finishing the poem, Xi Bai recited it several times. Suddenly, a gentle breeze blew, carrying a strange fragrance. Xi Bai was shocked—this wasn’t the scent of flowers. Where did it come from? As he wondered, he heard footsteps behind the plain screen. Xi Bai quickly turned around to peek.

There, he saw a woman with thick, cloud-like hair and delicate eyebrows like the moon. Her beauty outshone that of rare snowflakes, and her face was as splendid as exotic flowers. She walked with steady steps, her slender waist adorned simply. Upon seeing her, Xi Bai was struck by her delicate features; she quickly covered herself with her sleeve, though even the plum blossoms against the snow paled in comparison to her grace. Surprised, Xi Bai asked her surname. She set aside her sleeve, stepped forward, and said politely, “I am the daughter of an old gardener. By chance, on this festive day, I was upstairs when the prime minister arrived. In haste, I hid here to conceal my ugliness. Then I heard your recitation of ancient melodies with new lyrics, which sounded like treasures to me. I secretly emerged behind the screen to listen, and thus had the chance to see your face. That’s all about my story.” Seeing her beautiful appearance and graceful manner, Xi Bai was overjoyed beyond words. He then teased her, saying, “From your words, I can tell you’re an entendre. How do you think of the long poem I just composed?” She replied, “Though my family is humble, I love poetry greatly. Hearing the poem you just recited, it was so exquisite that even the heart filled with regret in the afterlife would be relieved.” Hearing this, Xi Bai grew even happier and said, “Meeting you today truly reveals a talented woman. Do you have any feelings as well?” She then spoke seriously, covering herself with her sleeve, and said, “Thankfully, you haven’t been involved in chaos, allowing me to preserve my chastity. All I can do is respond to your kindness through poetry.” She then took out a colorful sheet from her sleeve and handed it to him. Xi Bai read her poem:

“The one who left has gone; the building is empty, and the memories are deep. To this day, I still sigh under the spring sky.
If not for your superb poetic skill, who could comfort my heart in the afterlife?”

After reading it, Xi Bai said to the woman, “Since you can write poetry, you surely aren’t the daughter of a gardener. Who are you then?” She replied, “If you understand the meaning of the poem, you’ll know my humble origins. Why ask further?” Xi Bai sat there lost in thought. “What I saw in the dream must be related to Panpan. How obvious! It truly was a wonderful dream.” He sighed twice and said, “I must compose a song to record this.” Thus, he wrote the poem “Butterfly Loves Flower” and penned it on the desk. The poem read:

“I slept through the midday sun, dreaming of her graceful arms. By chance, I met a lovely companion.
She remained silent, her delicate form hidden among green bamboo. She left me a colorful sheet with wonderful verses.
Her tender feelings remain unspoken. The wind rustled the bamboo, scattering her away—now nowhere to find!
I’m melancholic; the clouds won’t stay. I gaze longingly at the path to Gaotang.”

Before he could recover, he heard applause and singing outside the window. The melody was clear and beautiful, reaching through the curtains. Xi Bai listened carefully—it was his own poem “Butterfly Loves Flower.” He was astonished and said, “I just wrote this poem; how could someone else sing it already?” He looked out the window and saw a woman wearing a green crown and pearl ornaments, a jade pendant, and a silk skirt. She stood by the gray Taihu rocks, hidden among lush green bamboo. Her embroidered shoes didn’t stir up dust as she stood gracefully in the breeze. Xi Bai watched her closely, filled with wonder and deep melancholy.

Sorrowful. Later, he served as a high official in the White Palace; he cared for the army and loved the people, earning their admiration. Yet he passed away suddenly without illness. This is what happened to him.

It is truly as described in these lines:
A new poem is composed to mourn her beauty;
Her pure soul smiles as they meet in dreams.
Though she was a renowned scholar, her story is recorded among trivial tales.

Volume Eleven: County Magistrate Su’s Robe Mended Again

The morning tide recedes, then the evening tide arrives;
In one month, it comes sixty times.
Not only does time pass from dawn to dusk,
But Hangzhou also ages under the pressure of the tides.

These four lines were written by Li Bai of the Tang Dynasty while observing the tides at the Qiantang River in Hangzhou. It is said that there was a talented man in Hangzhou named Li Hong, styled Jingzhi. He possessed great wisdom and talent, but unfortunate circumstances prevented him from passing the imperial examinations three times. In deep autumn, feeling depressed, he decided to cross the Qiantang River to visit a friend in Yanzhou. He ordered his servant to pack his books and belongings and rented a boat to take him across. By the time they reached the river mouth, it was already afternoon. Li looked out through the sail and saw the magnificent autumn scenery, even more beautiful than usual. This is confirmed by Su Dongpo’s poem “Jiang Shen Zi” from the Song Dynasty:

After the rain on Phoenix Mountain, the sky clears;
The water is serene, with bright evening hues.
A lotus flower blooms, still full of grace.
Where have those two white crabs come from?
As if intentional, they pause like doves.
Suddenly, the sound of a sad zither is heard on the river;
Such sorrowful music—who will listen?
The mist disperses, the clouds fade;
It seems to be the spirit of Xiangling.
I want to ask who played it when the music ends,
But no one is there—only green peaks remain.

While looking around, Li saw a small pavilion at the river mouth, with a plaque that read “Autumn River Pavilion.” The boatman said, “Every day, many visitors go up to that pavilion. Why is it so quiet today?” Li thought, “As someone who has suffered setbacks, it’s a good time to visit it in such tranquility.” He ordered, “Boatman, take me to the Autumn River Pavilion.” The boatman obeyed, bringing the boat to the side of the pavilion and securing the ropes. Li stepped ashore and entered the pavilion. He opened the windows on all sides, leaned on the railing, and admired the beautiful landscape where mountains met the river, blending into one hue. Delighted, he asked his servant to clean the table and chairs, light some incense, and place a zither on the table. After playing a piece, he raised his eyes and saw many inscriptions on the wall, most in regular script. But one inscription was written in both regular and cursive script, with very large characters. Li went over to take a look—it was a poem titled “Xi Jiang Yue,” discussing the drawbacks of wine, lust, wealth, and anger:

Wine is like burning gunpowder that harms the body;
Lust is like a steel knife that cuts flesh.
Excessive wealth brings envy and harms others;
Anger is like smokeless gunpowder.
When these four combine, they won’t last long at all.
I advise you to avoid them completely—that’s the true path to self-improvement.

After reading it, Li Sheng laughed and said, “This poem isn’t a definitive statement. In life, one cannot do without wine, lust, wealth, and pride. Without wine, there are no rituals for sacrifices or banquets; without lust, there is no marriage or offspring; without wealth, ordinary people lack means to live; without pride, even loyal officials and righteous men become dispirited. Why not write another poem to explain this to them?” He then ground ink thoroughly, dipped his brush well, and wrote another poem behind “Xi Jiang Yue,” also in the style of Cao Zhenzhen:

Three cups can ease all troubles,
One drink can dispel a thousand sorrows.
When yin and yang harmonize, joy arises;
But the lonely must know they have no future.

Wealth is the treasure that enriches a home,
Pride is what shapes one’s fate.
When used to help others, it turns into an enemy—
How many errors are in such arguments!

After writing, Li Sheng threw his brush on the table. Seeing that the incense still hadn’t burned out, he sat down intending to play another tune, when suddenly a gust of wind arose in front of the painted coffin.

It gathers grass in the courtyard,
Can make duckweed bloom on water’s surface—
Yet all one hears is the roar of thousands of trees,
Without seeing a trace of its form.

At that moment, Li Sheng felt his mind grow confused; he lay down on the desk. In his daze, he heard the sound of jewelry and smelled a strange fragrance filling the room. Four beautiful women entered—one in yellow, one in red, one in white, and one in black. They bowed deeply to Li Sheng. It seemed like a dream to him. He asked, “Who are you four? Why have you come here?” The four women replied with smiles, “We are four sisters, ancient goddesses who travel throughout the world. A poet came here some days ago, wrote a poem titled ‘Xi Jiang Yue,’ and insulted us, leaving us utterly ashamed. Today, since you also wrote a poem titled ‘Xi Jiang Yue’ to explain our past wrongs, we’ve come to thank you!” Li Sheng realized then that they were the essences of wine, lust, wealth, and pride. Filled with fear, he said, “Dear ladies, please tell me your names.” Each woman recited a line from her poem: the one in yellow said, “Du Kang brings spring to thousands of homes”; the one in red said, “Her red beauty is deadly charming”; the one in white said, “Only after the ox dies does everything belong to me”; the one in black said, “The world is filled with beans.” It turned out that the woman in yellow was wine, the one in red was lust, the one in white was wealth, and the one in black was pride. Understanding this, Li Sheng gently called the four women over and said, “Listen to my explanation:

Wine, sweet and delicious, brings loss;
Lust, with its beauty and youth, is even more alluring.
Wealth accumulated in large amounts brings prosperity,
But those who master the five elements truly become immortals.”

The fourth daughter was overjoyed and thanked him, saying, “With your explanation and kind praise, I beg you to choose one of my four sisters who is flawless, so that she may accompany you and repay your kindness in some small way.” The young man waved his hand and repeatedly said, “No, no! I aspire to reach the osmanthus trees in the moon, not to be entangled with wild flowers. Please stop talking; I fear it will mislead me.” The four daughters laughed and said, “You’re wrong, sir. We are like maidens by the Wu Mountains and Luo River, not like roadside flowers. Sima Xiangru of the Han dynasty, with his outstanding writings, and Li Wei of the Tang dynasty, a key figure in founding the dynasty—both married Wenjun and Hongfu, yet their stories became topics of romance, not subjects of ridicule in later generations. Moreover, such a rare opportunity won’t come again. I implore you to show us kindness!” The young man, being full of youthful ambition and indecisive, replied, “Since you all admire me, I don’t know which one is truly flawless. I would be willing to stay.” Before he could finish speaking, the woman in yellow stepped forward eagerly and said, “Sir, I am the flawless one.” The young man asked, “How can you claim to be flawless?” The woman replied, “I also have a poem titled ‘Xi Jiang Yue’: ‘I help heroes gain courage and enrich their poetic hearts. I’m a remedy created by the gods for soothing sorrows, perfect for enjoying snow, moonlight, wind, and flowers…’” She added, “There’s one more important line for you to hear: ‘Lust can cause illness, and excessive drinking always leads to madness. Even the Eight Immortals got drunk in the purple clouds; they didn’t envy princes or high officials.’” The young man smiled and said, “What a clever line about the Eight Immortals getting drunk in the purple clouds! I’d really like to stay.” Just as he decided to keep the woman in yellow, the woman in red stepped forward, her eyebrows arched and eyes wide, saying, “Sir, don’t listen to this wretched maid! I ask you: You only talk about the benefits of wine. Why do you put yourself first and others second, saying that lust causes illness? Can’t children get sick from lust too? You only praise your own advantages but ignore your own flaws. Emperor Ping died from alcohol poisoning, and Li Bai suffered harm by the river. I advise you to avoid drinking this heartless liquor—it clouds one’s mind after getting drunk!” The young man said, “That makes sense. In ancient times, many lost their kingdoms and lives because of alcohol. I dare not keep you here.” Then the woman in red approached seductively and said, “I am the flawless one, and I also have a poem titled ‘Xi Jiang Yue’ as proof: ‘I envy the mandarin ducks embracing each other, and I watch the intertwined flowers bloom. How can flowers and birds feel affection without humans experiencing love? You should quickly find a virtuous woman. Beautiful women cherish those with talent. Harmony in a red silk tent is priceless—nothing can buy it.’”

Li Sheng mused, “Truly, an instant is worth a fortune!” Just as he wanted to keep the woman in white, she already grew angry and scolded, “Witch! How dare you say ‘an instant is worth a fortune’? Am I really inferior to you? Let me list all your faults:
The stream by Weisheng Bridge flows gently; Xi Shi of Wu’s fate is pitiable.
Craving beauty brings disaster; a good marriage turns into a bad one.”

Feng Sheng said, “Weisheng lost his life, and Fuchai lost his kingdom—all because of lust. Their faults are no less severe than those caused by alcohol. Please leave! Please leave!” Then he asked the woman in white, “What about you?” The woman in white stepped forward.

“He who possesses power over heaven, earth, and humanity enjoys wealth and glory. Even with a kind and virtuous heart, it’s hard to practice virtue without resources. With me, everyone respects me; without me, I’m dismissed everywhere. Don’t fight over trivial matters—know that fate determines everything.”

Li Sheng nodded, “You make a good point. What the world respects is wealth. If I had wealth, passing exams would be easy.” Just as he felt inclined to keep her, he saw the woman in black with a flushed face, glaring angrily, and she scolded, “Why do you say ‘don’t fight over trivial matters’? In life, what’s the use if one has no spirit? I’m thinking of you.
Those with wealth and power are heroes; but if fate isn’t on their side, all efforts are in vain.
In the past, Shi Chong perished because of his wealth; even copper mines couldn’t save Deng Tong from poverty.”

Feng Sheng shook his head silently, thinking to himself, “Shi Chong suffered because of his wealth, and Deng Tong had mountains of money yet couldn’t relieve his hunger—what’s the use of wealth then?” He asked the angry woman, “Though what you say is true, tell me, how do you handle life?” The woman in black replied, “As for how I handle life: Since the beginning of time, yin and yang have existed. They form the primal energy that disperses into wind, allowing all things to come to life. Just look at a six-foot tall body—with three inches of throat through which everything flows. Wealth, alcohol, and lust encompass everything; without spirit, who can enjoy them?”

Before Li Sheng could reply, the three women—those representing wealth, alcohol, and lust—spoke together, “Sir, don’t listen to her! How could we three be confined by such a wretched maid? Let me list her faults:
The Overlord committed suicide at Bird Pond; the wise Zhou Yu didn’t live long.
Many brave generals on the battlefield perished because of fighting over pride.”

“The gentleman must not be kept either!” Li Sheng hesitated, thinking, “Ah! All four women have past misdeeds. ——Dear sisters, I am poor and cold, and dare not keep you; please go back.” At this moment, the four women began to blame each other. One said, “The gentleman kept me—why do you interrupt?” Another said, “The gentleman loves me—why do you compete?” Their words did not match, and soon they started fighting.

Drinking leads to quarrels and lust drains one’s strength; lust combined with drinking only brings disaster; wealth causes anger, which can harm one’s heart; anger over wealth damages affection. In the end, the woman obsessed with drinking was in disarray, the one obsessed with lust had her hair out of order, the one obsessed with wealth pounded her chest in despair, and the one obsessed with anger fell to the ground. Each had messy hair covering their pale faces, with their ornate shoes in disarray.

The four women fought together in a mess. Li Sheng thought to himself, “They fight over me alone.” Just as he wanted to step forward to mediate, the woman angry with him pushed him aside, saying, “Sir, step aside! Let me kill these three wretched women!” Li Sheng was shocked. His sleeve brushed against the strings of his zither, producing a loud sound that woke him up. Wiping away his sleepiness and looking closely, he saw no trace of the four women! Li Sheng sighed deeply, “Out of concern, this scene appeared in my dream. According to what I dreamed, all four have past faults. Why then did I write a poem praising their beauty? If future people read this poem and indulge in drinking, lust, wealth, or anger, I will be the chief culprit. Now it’s hard to retract my words. Well, I’ll write four more lines for others to consider.” After the poem “Xijiangyue” on the pink wall, he wrote another.

It is best not to get drunk from drinking; a true hero does not indulge in lust.

Do not take unjust wealth; endure anger, and troubles will vanish on their own.

Though it is said that drinking, lust, wealth, and anger generally lead to faults, upon closer inspection, there are those who don’t drink excessively, and those who can endure anger. Yet wealth and lust cause the most harm. But those greedy for wealth and lust inevitably drink a little and get angry sometimes, and drinking and anger are both included under wealth and lust. Today, I’ll tell an unusual story about how just wealth and lust can cause great disasters. Later, through joys and sorrows, partings and reunions, it became a beautiful tale—precisely as the saying goes: Such stories shock honest people and hurt the hearts of righteous men.

It is said that during the Yongle era at the beginning of the dynasty, in Jiangzhou, North Zhili, there were two brothers surnamed Su. The elder was named Yun, and the younger was named Yu. Their father had passed away early, leaving only their mother, Mrs. Zhang, living at home. Su Yun studied diligently since childhood and excelled in his studies. At the age of 24, he passed the imperial examinations and ranked second in the final exams. He was appointed as the magistrate of Lanxi County in Jinhua Prefecture, Zhejiang. Su Yun returned home and stayed for a few months. When his term ended, he had to set off for his post. Su Yun...

He said to his wife, Madam Zheng, “I passed the imperial examinations early on and was initially appointed as a local official. I resolved to be a good official. On this journey, I will only drink water from Lanxi... All my possessions have been packed up; I’ve left one-tenth of them for my mother’s sustenance, and the rest I’ll take with me for use at my post.” That day, he bid farewell to his mother and instructed his brother Su Yu, “Take good care of our parents. If I don’t offend anyone in this area, we’ll be able to meet again after three years when my term ends.” With that, tears welled up in his eyes. Su Yu said, “It’s wonderful that you’ve been given such an important position. We brothers will support you at home, so there’s no need for worry. You have a long journey ahead—take care of yourself!” Su Yu saw him off for a while before parting. Su Yun, along with Madam Zheng and the couple Su Sheng, set off on their journey to Zhangjiawan. Su Sheng said, “From here, we’ll have to travel by boat. There’s an official boat that happens to be heading back, which would be convenient for you to ride.” The county magistrate replied, “That’s great.” It turned out that there was a rule regarding boat travel: when returning home, whether carrying passengers or goods, the boat was filled to capacity. But if an official wanted to ride along, they could use that official’s status to avoid paying taxes along the way. Instead of paying for the boat ride, they would give the boat owner several dozen taels of silver as a token of filial piety, known as “cabin fee.” The county magistrate was an honest man; he had no idea about such rules. Hearing that he didn’t have to pay for the boat ride, he thought nothing of the cabin fee. Su Sheng secretly took four or five taels of silver from him, overjoyed, and left quickly. The county magistrate and his family went down into the official cabin. Along the way, they crossed rivers, passed through Yangzhou’s Guangling Post, and approached Yizhen. Since the boat was old and carried heavy cargo, it started leaking, causing panic among everyone on board. The county magistrate ordered them to pull over quickly and transfer his family and luggage to shore. But because of this transfer, disaster befell the entire county magistrate’s family. This matched the old saying: “Hiding treasures invites pirates; indulging in pleasure leads to chaos.”

Meanwhile, in Yizhen County, there was a man who made a living as a private merchant. His surname was Xu and his name was Neng; he lived on Wuba Street. For years, he had rented a large passenger ship from Secretary Wang of Shandong, using it to transport passengers back and forth, paying rent in silver each year. He worked with a group of scoundrels—Zhao Sanweng Bidi, Yang Lazi, Fan Bopí, and Shen Huzi—all of whom were not honest people. He also had a servant named Yao Da. They would often steal goods from ships when they saw something valuable, moving the ship secretly to a secluded place in the middle of the night to murder the passengers and rob them. For over ten years, Xu Neng also handled some household affairs. These accomplices lived in comfort, well-fed and warmly clothed—proving the saying, “Those who seek wealth lose virtue; those who pursue virtue cannot afford wealth.” You might wonder why Xu Neng, being from Yizhen County, rented a ship from Secretary Wang of Shandong. After all, if he started as a private merchant, surely he could afford to own his own ship. There was a reason for this: when Secretary Wang first took office in Nanjing, he married a woman in Yangzhou. Later, her parents moved to live in Yizhen, and Secretary Wang would often provide for them. Due to the distance, he gave Xu Neng this ship to rent. The ship bore the emblem of Secretary Wang’s household, and when it set sail, Xu Neng would take charge of it.

Xu Neng, because of his path as a private merchant, needed to use his own ships and borrow the name of the Secretariat. With his influence, no one suspected him, which is why his deception was eventually exposed.

Today, it happened that County Magistrate Su also had matters to attend to, and coincidentally, Xu Neng’s boat was available at home. Xu Neng was on the shore looking for customers when he heard that the official boat had a leak, so he hurried over to take a look. Seeing many boxes and baskets on the boat, he was already quite tempted. Then a young, beautiful woman came aboard. Xu Neng, being greedy and lustful, felt his heart stir and his eyes gleam. He saw Su Sheng carrying luggage, assuming he was a servant, so he pulled at the back of Su Sheng’s clothes from among the crowd. Su Sheng turned around, and Xu Neng smiled and asked, “Where are you going, sir? Do you need to change boats?” Su Sheng replied, “My master has just passed the imperial examinations and been appointed as the county magistrate of Lanxi. He is now heading to take up his post. Since the boat has a leak, we’ve come ashore temporarily. If we can find a good boat to replace it, it will save us trouble with our master.” Xu Neng pointed to the river and said, “That boat with the official emblem belonging to Minister Wang of Shandong is mine. It’s newly repaired, sturdy, and clean. I often use it on the waterways between Zhejiang and Jiangsu, and my sailors are all skilled. If we set sail tonight and pray to the gods for good fortune tomorrow morning, with a favorable wind, we’ll arrive in a few days.” Su Sheng was delighted and kept this information to himself.

County Magistrate Su asked Su Sheng to first check the cabin before agreeing on the price for the boat. Since his family was also traveling, he allowed one more person to board. Xu Neng agreed to all of this. Half of the payment was weighed right away, with the rest to be paid upon arriving at the county. The magistrate’s family’s luggage was carefully transferred onto the boat. Xu Neng hurriedly went to find those willing to help, and Zhao San and the others arrived, with only Weng Fan remaining on shore. After purchasing the necessary blessings, they were about to set sail when another man jumped onto the boat and said, “I’d like to help you too!” Xu Neng was stunned for a while. It turned out that Xu Neng had a brother named Xu Yong, who was referred to as “Elder Xu” or “Second Brother” by everyone. Truly, some people are naturally good while others are not. Xu Neng usually engaged in illegal trade, while Xu Yong preferred to do good deeds. But whenever Xu Neng tried to act dishonestly on the boat, his brother would stop him—eight or nine times out of ten. That’s why today Xu Neng hid his brother and went alone. Xu Yong, however, had his own motives. Hearing that a young county magistrate was changing boats, he wrote a note for his brother’s boat and saw his brother summoning those rough-looking men. Feeling puzzled, he deliberately came to the boat to help. Xu Neng, fearing his brother would interfere with his honest business, was displeased. As the saying goes: “One must distinguish between purity and impurity; otherwise, one will end up mixed with the foul.”

Just as County Magistrate Su was about to set sail, another man rushed down the boat, which made him somewhat suspicious. Thinking it might be someone trying to take advantage of the situation, he told Su Sheng, “Go ask who that man just came is.” Su Sheng went to ask and returned, saying, “The one at the bow is called Xu Neng, and the one who just came is Xu Yong, Xu Neng’s own brother.” The magistrate thought, “So they’re part of the same family.” That day, after sailing a few miles, Xu Neng stopped the boat and said, “The wind isn’t favorable yet. Let’s all drink some wine for good fortune.” While drinking, Xu Neng...

Xu Neng stepped ashore and said to his brother, “I see County Magistrate Su has heavy luggage, no gold with him, and only one household member accompanying him. This is a great opportunity we must not miss; don’t stop me.” Xu Yong replied, “Brother, this is absolutely unacceptable! If he returns with a full bag of money, it must be stolen wealth—such gains are not right. He’s just starting his post now, bringing only a few taels as expenses; how could there be a thousand taels? Besides, he’s a young scholar from the imperial examinations—a rare talent from heaven. If you harm him, even heaven won’t allow it, and you’ll surely regret it later.” Xu Neng continued, “Money isn’t the main issue. There’s another thing—what a beautiful lady! Your brother has just lost his wife, and there’s no one to manage the household. This is fate sending us together; as brothers, we must make this marriage happen!” Xu Yong said again, “When matching women with men, since she’s a lady, she must be from an official family. To separate such a good couple and force them to marry will never lead to harmony. This cannot be done.” While the two brothers were arguing, Zhao San on the stern saw them and, not knowing what they were discussing, jumped ashore. Seeing Zhao San come ashore, Xu Neng left quietly. Zhao San asked Xu Neng, “What were you talking about with your second brother just now?” Xu Neng whispered it in his ear. Zhao San said, “Since your second brother agrees, there’s no need to talk to him anymore. Just you and I can finish this task. We must do this and that tonight.” Xu Neng was overjoyed and said, “My name is Zhao Yidao.” It turned out Zhao San was a rough man who often boasted, “I’m the kind who can cut things in two with one strike—I don’t follow those weaklings.” Hence, he got the nickname Zhao Yidao. The group then drank and dispersed, resting for the time being. As night fell, County Magistrate Su and his wife went to sleep. Around the first watch, they heard movement on the boat as people packed up the sails. When Su Sheng asked what was going on, they said, “River boats rely entirely on the wind. We’ll take advantage of this night to travel; we’ll arrive in Nanjing by morning. Sir, sleep soundly and don’t make a sound—I’ll handle everything.” County Magistrate Su was from the north and didn’t understand matters related to water travel. Hearing this, he stopped asking further.

Meanwhile, Xu Neng pushed the boat forward. Seeing that the wind wasn’t favorable, which suited his plans, he raised the sails fully, steering the boat toward Huang Tiandang. Huang Tiandang was a desolate place; once the boat reached the middle of the marsh, there was nothing in sight for miles. Yao Da threw away the anchor, Yang Lazi secured the front cabin door, Shen Huzi took charge of the rudder, Zhao San led the way carrying a slashing sword, while Xu Neng followed with an axe—only Xu Yong was left behind. Su Sheng was sleeping at the cabin entrance when he heard someone trying to break in. He stuck his head out of the blankets to look. Zhao San saw him and swung his sword, hitting him right in the neck. Su Sheng cried out, “Thieves!” before being struck again and dragged out of the cabin, thrown into the water. Su Sheng’s wife came out in her clothes upon hearing the noise but was also knocked down by Xu Neng’s axe. Yao Da lit a torch, illuminating the cabin. In panic, County Magistrate Su knelt down and pleaded, “Great lord, I don’t want any of my belongings—just spare my life!” Xu Neng...

Tao said, “I won’t spare you!” He raised his axe and swung it down at Su’s head, but someone caught him around the waist and said, “You can’t!” It was as if, in deep autumn, an amnesty came, and in severe illness, a deity intervened!

Who do you think that was? It was Xu Yong, Xu Neng’s own younger brother. Knowing that others were about to intervene, he rushed into the cabin and quickly hugged his brother, pulling him aside so that he couldn’t strike. Xu Neng said, “Brother, we’re in a situation where we can’t back down now.” Xu Yong replied, “He passed the imperial examinations but hasn’t held any official position even for a day. Today we’ve robbed him of his wealth, taken his wife and children, killed his family members, and now we’re about to kill him too—this is far too much sin.” Xu Neng said, “Brother, I’ll listen to you on other matters, but not this one. If we spare him, it will only lead to trouble. Our lives are in danger; let’s finish this!” Xu Yong held him even tighter and threw him aside, saying, “Brother, since we can’t spare him, at least let him die with his body intact in the lake.” Xu Neng agreed. Xu Yong said, “Brother, put down your weapon first, then I’ll let go.” Xu Neng indeed dropped his axe, and Xu Yong released him. Xu Neng said to County Magistrate Su, “I’ll spare you from one axe strike, but I won’t let you go.” He tied them together with ropes, like a dumpling, and pushed them underwater. It was clear that County Magistrate Su would die. Lady Zheng cried bitterly and tried to jump into the water. Xu Neng wouldn’t allow it; he closed the cabin door, moved to the bow of the boat, pulled up the sails, and turned the boat around. It turned out that on the lakes, sails could be used even when facing strong headwinds.

It was only over fifty miles to Shaobo Lake. By dawn, they arrived at Wuba. Xu Neng went home, summoned a sedan chair, and ordered his housekeeper, Granny Zhu, to help his mother get into the chair. They cried all the way until they reached Xu Neng’s house. Xu Neng instructed Granny Zhu, “Please comfort my mother well. In such a situation, she has no choice but to obey. Don’t worry. If she agrees to comply tonight, I’ll ensure her wealth and comfort for life, which is better than staying with that poor official.” He promised generous rewards if she agreed. Granny Zhu took the order and led his mother to her room. Xu Neng ordered everyone to bring all the valuables from the boat onto land. After opening them, they divided everything equally among six people. They slaughtered a pig, burned incense, and even invited Old Man Ni and Fan Pei to join the celebration feast. Xu Yong felt extremely sorry for them, thinking that his brother was heartless and would surely force Lady Su to comply at night; if she refused, her life would be in danger. If she agreed, her reputation would be ruined. Even while at the feast, he felt as if sitting on ashes. Everyone ate and drank heavily throughout the night. Xu Yong came up with a plan: he filled a large bowl with hot wine, about a pound in volume. Xu Yong carried the bowl to Xu Neng and knelt down in front of him. Xu Neng hurriedly helped him up, asking, “Brother, why do you do this?” Xu Yong replied, “For what happened on the boat last night, as your brother, I disobeyed you. You must be angry. If you’re not angry, please drink this bowl of wine from me.” Although Xu Neng was a bandit, the relationship between brothers was harmonious. Fearing that Xu Yong might suspect something, Xu Neng drank the wine in one gulp. Seeing that Xu Yong had drunk the wine, everyone stood up and toasted.

Today, Brother Tu married a new sister-in-law; it’s a joyous occasion, so each of us shall raise a toast in celebration.” By this time, Xu Neng was already seven or eight drinks drunk and refused to drink any more. The others said, “Brother Xu is our brother; we may not share the same surname, but aren’t we still brothers?” Unable to resist their insistence, he ended up drinking with everyone, until even Lao Da got drunk.

Seeing his brother sitting on a chair dozing off, Xu Yong simply stepped forward, picked up a lantern, went out through the front door, then tried to enter through the back door—only to find it locked. Xu Yong jumped over the wall into the house, broke the lock on the back door, took the lantern, and hid it. Two maids were in the kitchen heating wine, but Xu Yong ignored them and headed straight to the room. The door was closed, and voices could be heard inside. Xu Yong pricked up his ears and heard Granny Zhu persuading Lady Zheng to marry. He wasn’t sure how many words had been exchanged yet; Lady Zheng finally agreed but continued to cry. Granny Zhu said, “Since you’re determined not to comply, why not just find a way to end your life on the ship? Now that we’re here, where can you hide?” Lady Zheng cried, “Mother, it’s not that I crave life at all costs—I’m merely nine or ten months pregnant. If I die, it doesn’t matter much, but my husband will lose his heir.” Granny Zhu replied, “Then give birth to children. Who will take care of you? As a woman, living like Cheng Ying is pointless.” Hearing this, Xu Yong kicked open the door with one foot, scaring Lady Zheng so much that she couldn’t move, and even Granny Zhu panicked. Xu Yong said, “Don’t worry; I’m here to save you. My brother is drunk. Take this opportunity to escape through the back door. When we meet again, remember to thank me, Xu Yong.” Lady Zheng bowed in gratitude. After talking for a while, Granny Zhu also felt deep pity for Lady Zheng and decided to accompany her in fleeing. Xu Yong took out ten taels of silver and gave it to Granny Zhu as money for their journey. He led the two of them out through the back door, escorted them to the main road, warned them to be careful, and then left. It was as if he shattered five locks and freed them like dragons.

As for Granny Zhu and Lady Zheng, they wandered in the darkness, not knowing where to go. They chose quiet places to walk, ignoring the narrow paths and tight shoes. After about fifteen or sixteen li, Lady Zheng grew worried and her feet started to hurt. Granny Zhu could no longer walk either. With no choice, they supported each other and continued for another ten li before dawn broke. Granny Zhu, who already had breathing difficulties, became even more out of breath after walking so far. She said, “Madam, it’s not that I’ll abandon you, but I really can’t move anymore. I’m afraid I’ll become a burden to you. Fortunately, it’s getting light. You should go ahead and find a place to stay. I’m familiar with these roads, so don’t worry about me.” Lady Zheng said, “In times of trouble, I have no choice but to rely on you. But if you meet anyone else, please don’t reveal my whereabouts!” Granny Zhu replied, “Go ahead as you please. I won’t delay you.” Lady Zheng finally managed to move on. Granny Zhu sighed, thinking, “With nowhere to stay, I might as well become a virtuous person.” She looked for a well by the roadside, took off her old shoes, and threw herself in. Lady Zheng shed tears and continued on her way.

After walking another ten li, covering a total distance of over thirty li, she gradually felt unbearable abdominal pain. It was almost dawn by then, and she saw a thatched hut by the road, its door still closed. Lady Zheng knocked on the door, intending to borrow the hut for a short rest. Someone inside agreed to open the door. When Lady Zheng looked up, she was even more shocked and thought, “I’m doomed! It turns out to be a monk.” Hearing that monks in the south were particularly unruly, she encountered bandits and then met a monk—what bad luck! Either way, death seemed inevitable; she decided to enter and see what would happen. The monk, seeing Lady Zheng’s graceful appearance and fine clothes, realized she wasn’t a commoner and treated her with great respect, inviting her into a clean room to talk. As they conversed, it became clear she was a nun. Only then did Lady Zheng calm down and recounted how she had stopped the robbers led by Huang Tiandang. The old nun said, “Madam, you may stay for a few days without trouble, but I dare not let you stay long, fearing that bandits might find out, causing harm to both sides...” Before she could finish speaking, Lady Zheng felt intense pains again. The old nun, over fifty years old and also a convert to Buddhism halfway through life, knew some Buddhist teachings and asked, “Madam, does this pain resemble childbirth?” Lady Zheng replied, “To be honest, I am nine months pregnant. After walking quickly last night, I started having stomach pains—I’m afraid I’m going into labor.” The old nun said, “Madam, please don’t blame me for saying this, but this is a sacred place of Buddha; it cannot be defiled. You must go somewhere else; I dare not keep you here.” Tears streamed down Lady Zheng’s face as she pleaded, “Elder sister, out of compassion, if no place exists anywhere, where else can I go? It seems my past karmas in the Su family are severe, and now I suffer such misfortune. Perhaps it’s better to die!” The kind-hearted old nun said, “Well then, there’s a toilet building behind the hut. If you have nowhere else to go, stay there temporarily until after childbirth; it’s not too late to enter the hut then.” With no other choice, Lady Zheng carried her belly and went to the toilet building behind the hut. Although it was just a toilet building, fortunately it had an open pit at the bottom, which kept it clean. Once inside, she suffered several intense pains and gave birth to a baby. Hearing the baby’s cries, the old nun rushed over and said, “Madam, be glad you’re safe. But there’s one problem: mother and child cannot stay together. If you keep the baby, I’ll find someone to raise him, and you won’t need to stay here. But if you want to stay, you must abandon the baby. Otherwise, crying in this sacred place will arouse suspicion, and if investigated, it will bring more trouble.”

Lady Zheng struggled with her decision, unable to part with either the baby or her husband. Then she said, “I have an idea.” She took off a silk robe worn close to her body, wrapped the baby in it, pulled out a gold hairpin, and pinned it to the baby’s chest. She prayed to heaven, saying, “My husband Su Yun, if it’s my fate to lose my descendants, may heaven have mercy and send a kind person to raise this child.” After praying, she handed the baby to the old nun, asking her to leave him at an intersection. The old nun said “Amitabha” and took the baby, walking about half a li to a place called Daliu Village, where she left the baby under a willow tree. They parted ways by the roadside, wondering if it was like a fig tree producing fruit again. The old nun returned and informed Lady Zheng, who was nearly dead with relief. Needless to say, the old nun comforted her. After washing her hands, she recited a Buddhist scripture in front of the Buddha and brought soup and water to take care of Lady Zheng. Lady Zheng took off all her jewelry and gave it to the old nun.

It was for the cost of staying in the nunnery. She waited until the full moon came, then entered the nunnery to become a novice nun, praying to Buddha and studying scriptures. After several months, fearing trouble in that area, the old nun took her to an old nunnery by Cihu Lake in Dangtu County, where she stayed hidden without going outside.

Meanwhile, Xu Neng got drunk and remained on the chair until the fifth watch of the night before waking up. Seeing their host drunk, everyone had already left. When Xu Neng woke up, he thought of Granny Su. He went into the room to check, but it was empty—Granny Zhu was gone as well. When he called the maids, they were all stunned and unable to answer. Seeing the back door wide open, he realized she had fled. Though he didn’t know where she had gone, he still had to chase after her. Assuming she wouldn’t go south, he headed north, searching in secluded areas. It seemed fate had led her along Granny Su’s old path, to a well. There, he saw a pair of women’s shoes—originally his ex-wife’s old shoes, which he recognized as Granny Zhu’s. He wondered if she must have deliberately come here, willing to risk her life. Peering over the well’s edge, it was pitch black, so he ignored it and continued chasing. After traveling another ten miles, he reached Da Liu Village, but there was no trace of her. Just as he was about to turn back, he heard a baby’s cry. Taking a step forward, he saw a child under a big willow tree—well-proportioned, with a gold pouch in its arms, clearly left by someone. Thinking to himself, “I, Xu Neng, am nearly forty and still have no children. This must be heaven’s gift to me as an heir.” Gently picking up the child, the baby stopped crying. Overjoyed, Xu Neng didn’t pursue further but took the child back home. Upon arriving, he remembered Yao Da’s wife, who had just given birth to a daughter who had died shortly after—perfect for nursing the baby. He gave her some money as a reward to take good care of the infant. “When she grows up, I’ll take care of her myself,” he said, as proven by the poem.

Thorns sprout among lotus and vines; a tiger raised to adulthood harms itself.
Few understand heaven’s cunning plan—planting seeds of disaster that grow into harm.

The story splits into two parts. Back to County Magistrate Su, who was captured by bandits and thrown into Huangtian Dang. As the saying goes, “Life and death are predestined.” If one isn’t meant to live, no amount of effort will save them. Yet County Magistrate Su still had a chance. Half submerged in the polluted water, he drifted until he reached the water gate. By chance, a passenger ship from Huizhou was anchored there. Master Tao got up in the middle of the night to relieve himself and felt something under the boat. He ordered the sailors to lift it up—it was a person, tied up tightly. Alarmed, he wondered if they were alive or dead. Just as he was about to throw them back into the water, such an odd thing happened: County Magistrate Su, having been in the water all night, suddenly opened his mouth and cried, “Save me! Save me!” Seeing he was alive, Master Tao hurriedly untied the ropes and gave him ginger soup to wake him up, asking about his situation. County Magistrate Su explained in detail that he had been robbed by the crew of Secretary Wang from Shandong and now intended to report the matter to his superiors. Master Tao was...

A man of proper sense, upon hearing that he had to sue the family of the official from Shandong, feared being implicated and felt regret. Seeing his expression change, Su Zhijun worried there might be disharmony, so he changed his words and said, “Now that all my funds are gone and I’ve lost my documents, I have nowhere to go. If there’s a place where I can settle down, then we can discuss further.” Lord Tao said, “Please don’t take offense at what I say. If you really want to file a lawsuit, I can’t get involved in such matters. But if you just need a place to stay, there’s a local school in my village. If you’re willing to accept it, you can stay here temporarily.” Su Zhijun thanked him. Lord Tao gave him some dry clothes for him to change into and took him back to his home. Although the village was called Sanjia Village, it actually had only about fourteen or fifteen households. Most families had children who went to school. Yang Gong served as the leader, arranging for each household to take turns providing support for teaching at home before sending the children out to study elsewhere. Remember well: Su Zhijun taught in the village, truly acting as a teacher even though he wasn’t officially in charge of governing the people.

Meanwhile, Lady Su was at home, missing her son Su Yun. She said to her second son, Su Yu, “Your elder brother is an official. He’s been away for three years with no news at all. Show some concern for your brother and go to Lanxi to find out something about him, so as to ease my anxious expectations.” Su Yu obeyed, packed his things, traveled by land when possible and by boat when necessary, and it took him a month to reach Lanxi. Su Yu was a simple and honest man who knew how to handle difficult situations. He went straight to the county office. When the county magistrate left his office, Su Yu knocked on the door of his private residence. The gatekeeper tried to stop him, asking who he was. Su Yu said, “I’m a relative of the county magistrate. Please inform him quickly.” The gatekeeper replied, “Sir, you’re too greedy. If you’re really a relative, at least tell me your name so I can announce your arrival.” Su Yu said, “I’m Su’s biological brother from our hometown. I’ve come all the way from here.” The gatekeeper slapped him and cursed, “Damn it! Your surname is Gao, and you’re from Jiangxi. That’s absurd!” Just then, a few idle officials heard this and came over, mocking him and saying, “Where did this bachelor come from? Just throw him out!” Su Yu tried to explain himself repeatedly, but no one would listen. As they argued back and forth, it alerted the county magistrate, who came out of his private residence to ask what was going on.

When Su Yu heard that the county magistrate had come out, he looked up and saw that it wasn’t his brother. Panicked, he knelt down and said, “I’m Su Yu from Tingzhou in Beizhili. My elder brother, Su Yun, was selected as the county magistrate here three years ago. Since then, there’s been no news of him. My mother is waiting anxiously at home. I came all this way hoping to find some information. Since you’re the magistrate here, you must know something about my brother’s whereabouts.” The county magistrate hurriedly helped him up, bowed to him, and invited him to sit. He said, “Your brother never actually took up his post. The Ministry of Personnel thought he had died, so they assigned this position to me. Since there’s no news from the capital, it’s likely he was attacked by pirates. If he died on the way, surely someone would have returned to report it.” Hearing this, Su Yu was about to cry. “My mother is waiting anxiously at home. I hoped you’d bring back good news. How can I go back and tell her that he died under mysterious circumstances?”

1」Gaozhi County watched from the sidelines, feeling deeply uneasy at not being able to help his fellow official. He comforted him, saying, “Since things have come to this, please do not worry. Stay here for a month or two while I send people to search everywhere for news of your brother. It won’t be long before he returns. All expenses will be covered by me.” He then ordered his servant to take ten taels from the treasury and give them to Su Yu as a gift for his journey, instructing a servant to escort Su Yu to live at the Thousand Gods Temple. Though Su Yu appreciated Gaozhi’s kindness, he was heartbroken; he cried day and night. After staying there for half a month, he suddenly fell ill, and despite taking medicine, he did not recover. Alas! He never got to see his brother again, and now he had to say goodbye to his mother as well. Gaozhi County bought a coffin and personally handled the burial, arranging for the body to be kept in the temple, with a Taoist priest instructed to take good care of it. That’s the story so far.

As for Xu Neng, after bringing back the child, he had Yao Da’s wife act as the nurse and raise the child as his own. As the saying goes, “The only worry is not raising him, and the next worry is whether he’ll grow up properly.” The child grew up to be six years old, extremely intelligent, and was named Xu Jizu. He began studying books. By the age of thirteen, he had mastered the classics and returned home. At fifteen, he passed the imperial examinations and set off for the higher-level exams. Passing through Tingzhou, he got tired from traveling and dismounted to rest. There he saw an old woman with a face like autumn leaves and hair like silver threads, carrying a ceramic jar to draw water from a well. Xu Jizu stepped forward and bowed to her, asking for some clean water to quench his thirst. The old woman, with her weak eyes, saw this handsome young official and invited him to her house for tea. Xu Jizu said, “I’m afraid it’s too far from your house!” The old woman replied, “It’s just ten steps away.” Xu Jizu really dismounted and followed her to her house. Although the courtyard looked like an old household, it was very desolate. The back rooms had been burned down, with piles of debris left uncleaned. Only three rooms remained, separated by earthen walls. In one room, the old woman slept; in another, some broken furniture was stored. The middle room was empty, with two spirit tablets placed there, inscribed with the names of her eldest son Su Yun and second son Su Yu. Next to the hall was a small room where an old maid was cooking fire. The old woman invited the young official to sit in the middle, sitting beside him. She called the maid to bring out a cup of hot tea and said, “Young sir, please drink some tea.” The old woman stared at the young official without blinking, tears streaming down her face. Xu Jizu wondered why and asked her. The old woman said, “I’m seventy-eight years old. I might have said something wrong. I hope you won’t blame me.” Xu Jizu replied, “Just speak freely; why would I blame you?” The old woman asked, “What’s your surname? How old are you?” Xu Jizu introduced himself, saying he was fifteen years old and had luckily passed the examinations to go to the capital for the higher-level exams. The old woman silently counted in her mind and burst into tears. Xu Jizu also felt sad and said, “If you’re so distressed, there must be some sorrowful event!” The old woman said, “I had two sons. The eldest, Su Yun, became a scholar and was appointed as the magistrate of Lanxi County. Fifteen years ago, he went to take up his post with his wife, and never returned. I sent my second son, Su Yu, to check on him at the office, but he also didn’t return. Later, I heard rumors that both sons died at the hands of bandits by the river. My second son drowned in Lanxi. I suffered greatly, and then the neighbor’s wife set fire to my bedroom. Now, it’s just me and this maid living in these few rooms.”

Inside, she sat waiting for death. Just now, she happened to see that the young man’s face was identical to Su Yun’s, and he was only fifteen years old, so she felt deeply saddened. It was already late today; if the young man disdained her poverty, he could stay in the thatched cottage for one night and eat the simple meal she would prepare for him.” With that, she cried again. Xu Jizu was a kind-hearted man who naturally felt compassion for this old woman; he couldn’t bear to leave her, so he agreed. The old woman slaughtered a chicken and cooked food to entertain Xu Jizu. After talking until the second or third watch of the night, they rested together.

The next morning, the old woman got up and prepared breakfast for him. Before leaving, she was reluctant to part, took out an unopened piece of silk from an old box as a gift, saying, “This garment was made by my own hands. I made one for men and one for women, with the same pattern. I gave the women’s garment to my daughter-in-law, but the men’s garment was damaged by soot from a lamp, causing a hole in it. I considered it inauspicious and never wore it myself; instead, I kept it for my deceased son. Today, when I saw you, it was as if I saw Su Yun again. Please accept this garment. If you remember me in my old age, come back next spring with wealth and honor me by sending word through someone in Lanxi County about Su Yun and Su Yu. Only then will I die in peace.” With that, she cried bitterly. Xu Jizu, moved by her words, also shed tears. The old woman saw Xu Jizu onto his horse before returning to the house in tears.

Xu Jizu was overwhelmed with sorrow. Upon arriving in the capital, he passed all the exams and became a Jinshi of the second class, being appointed as a clerk in the imperial court. The officials there respected him greatly for his maturity and experience despite his youth. Some even offered to pay a dowry and give their daughters to him since he was still unmarried. But Xu Jizu refused firmly, as he had not fulfilled his father’s wishes. After two years in the capital, due to a shortage of officials in charge of law enforcement, he was appointed as an imperial censor and sent to Nanjing to review examination papers. This allowed him to return home to marry, at just nineteen years old. By then, he had become a successful man, showing off his power at home—just as the ancient saying goes: “Always watch crabs with cold eyes to see how long they can act arrogantly.”

Meanwhile, Lady Bu had lived in the Cihu Nunnery for nineteen years without ever leaving. One day, looking at herself in the mirror, she noticed that her appearance had changed, and tears streamed down her face. She thought, “I haven’t avenged the murder of my husband, and my child doesn’t even know where I am or whether I’m alive or dead. Even if someone took care of her, who knows whose hands she fell into? Where is she now? My appearance is now thin and haggard, and I’m dressed like a nun—no one will recognize me. Besides, after living comfortably these past few years, I feel guilty toward the nunnery. Now I must go out and ask for alms—to help the nunnery and also to inquire about my child along the way. As the saying goes, ‘Even duckweed in the vast ocean may meet again.’ Perhaps someone has found her and raised her; then mother and child can reunite, and I can explain everything to her.”

“Teach him to be a venger, yet fail to fulfill his wish!” After discussing it with the old nun, she took her bowl and left the monastery.

As she traveled from place to place, she arrived in Dangtu County, where colorful decorations lined the streets to welcome Imperial Censor Xu. Lady Zheng went to one household to ask for alms; the family head declined, saying, “We’re too busy handling our own affairs; come again another day.” Nearby, some women were standing at the door watching the decorations. Seeing this nun, who was very beautiful and not yet old, they realized she couldn’t obtain alms, so they called her over. Hearing the call, Lady Zheng went over and learned more about them. The women invited her inside and treated her to a vegetarian meal while asking about her background. Thinking she wasn’t part of any criminal gang, Lady Zheng decided to confess her suffering from nineteen years ago. Unexpectedly, the woman’s family member, who had been hiding behind a screen, listened for a while, then came out and said to the nun, “You’ve suffered such great injustice. Now that the Imperial Censor has arrived, why don’t you file a complaint?” Lady Zheng replied, “I’m a woman who can’t read; I can’t write a complaint.” The family member said, “If you want to file a complaint, I’ll write it for you.” He went and bought a three-foot-three-inch piece of paper and wrote from beginning to end: “Complainant Lady Zheng, 42 years old, originally from Zhuozhou in Zhili Province. Her husband, Su Yun, was appointed as the magistrate of Lanxi County in Zhejiang after passing the imperial examinations. She followed him to take up his post and passed through Yizhen by boat. Unluckily, the boat owner, a thief named Xu Neng, gathered a group of men to rob her husband of his wealth and even attempt to kill him, trying to also kidnap her. She managed to escape and hid in a monastery, enduring this injustice for nineteen years without justice being done. Thief Xu lives on Wuba Street. I earnestly request that the authorities capture him and punish him according to law. I will be eternally grateful, and I urge you to act swiftly!”

Lady Zheng accepted the complaint and thanked them before leaving. When she reached the official reception pavilion, Imperial Censor Xu was greeting guests aboard a ship on Ningda Road. The water on the bow was crystal clear. Not knowing the risks, Lady Zheng stepped onto the ship. The ship’s attendant quickly tried to stop her, but she began to complain. Hearing this from inside the cabin, Xu felt it was fate, and noticing her pitiful voice, he ordered the patrol officer to bring in the complaint for him and Zhou to see. It would have been better not to look, but after reading it, Xu’s face turned pale. He sent away his attendants and privately asked Zhou, “The woman is accusing my father. I don’t want to accept her complaint, but I’m afraid she might file one elsewhere.” Zhou laughed heartily and said, “Sir, you’re still young and lack experience. What’s difficult about this? Order the patrol officer to take that woman to the office tomorrow for interrogation. There, a few blows with a stick will kill her, eliminating future troubles.” Imperial Censor Xu stood up to thank him, bid farewell to Zhou, gave instructions to the patrol officer to bring the complaining woman to the office for interrogation the next morning, and then returned to the procuratorate to rest, unable to sleep all night. He thought, “My father has been a thief for years; what this woman is accusing him of might be true.”

First, they robbed and killed people; today they’ve beaten a woman to death—surely this is adding insult to injury. If we don’t kill them, then I’m not truly formidable. Suddenly, he remembered meeting Lao Ao in Bai Zhou three years ago, who mentioned his son Su Yun having been forced into something by others—presumably this very matter. He thought, “My father spent his life robbing others; I wonder what karmic debts he’s accumulated. What good deeds could there be that allowed my son to succeed in the examinations? I remember when I was in school, the other students often joked that I wasn’t his biological son. I really don’t know where I came from. Only Grandpa Yao Da might know the details.” So he devised a plan and wrote a letter home, saying, “I’m too busy with my duties to go home. Please come specially to welcome my father, uncles, and relatives at the office in Nanjing. There’s no one to serve me on the road, so please send Grandpa Yao Da first to Qianshi Post Station. Don’t be late!” The next day, he sent the letter through a messenger to be opened personally by his father on Yizhen Wuba Street. The patrol officer took Madam Zheng to the office. When Xu Jizu saw her, his heart ached. After exchanging a few words, he asked, “Did that woman have a son? How did she end up filing a complaint?” Madam Zheng cried, explaining how she had given birth to the child in the nunnery, wrapped him in a robe along with some gold, and left him in Daliu Village, detailing everything. Xu Jizu couldn’t make up his mind and told Madam Zheng, “Stay in the nunnery for now. I’ll investigate the robbers thoroughly before calling you back.” Madam Zheng bowed and left. Xu Jizu rode to Qianshi Post Station and waited for Grandpa Yao Da to arrive.

There was nothing to do during the day until late at dusk. He called Yao Da to his bed, comforted him kindly, and asked, “Who am I born to?” Yao Da replied, “You were born to the master.” After repeated questioning, the answer remained the same. Xu Jizu became angry and said, “I already know everything about being born to someone else. If you can explain clearly, out of gratitude for your wife’s nurturing, I’ll spare your life. But if you lie, I’ll have you beaten to death right here in this county!” Yao Da said, “It’s truly true—I’m your biological son. I wouldn’t dare lie.” Xu Jizu asked, “Don’t you know about Huang Yaodang robbing County Magistrate Su?” Yao Da still refused to speak openly. Furious, Xu Jizu wrote an arrest warrant with Yao Da’s name on it and sent him to Dangtu County to be beaten a hundred times as punishment. Seeing the warrant, Yao Da panicked and kowtowed, saying, “I’m willing to confess. Please, sir, don’t reveal this in front of the master.” Xu Jizu replied, “Everything is under my control. You needn’t fear!” Then Yao Da recounted in detail how they planned to rob County Magistrate Su, how they took Madam Su as their wife, and how they carried the baby home under the big willow tree and had his wife nurse him. Xu Jizu asked further, “Was there a robe and a string of gold buttons wrapped around the baby back then? Are they still there?” Yao Da replied, “The robe was stained with blood, but after washing it clean, it’s still here along with the gold.” By then, Xu Jizu already understood everything. He ordered, “Only you and I know about this. Tomorrow morning, send someone to retrieve the child and the robe, then come to the office in Nanjing to see me.” Yao Da obeyed and left. Early the next morning, Xu Jizu sent officials to bring Madam Zheng from Ciyin Nunnery to the capital to meet him, while he set off for Nanjing to take up his post. Truly, a young man’s success in the examinations brings glory like brocade, while an imperial censor’s reputation is fierce as thunder.

Meanwhile, County Magistrate Su Yun was teaching in Sanjia Village. Recalling events from nineteen years ago, he thought of his elderly mother at home, with no news of her. His wife, Lady Zheng, was pregnant, and his fate was unknown, leaving him anxious day and night. He told Lord Tao about this and wanted to go to Yizhen to find out more. Lord Tao earnestly advised him to stay put and avoid trouble. Taking advantage of the Qingming Festival when people went out to sweep tombs, Su Yun wrote a letter of thanks and left it in the school, expressing his gratitude to Lord Tao. Then he packed up his things and set off. Along the way, he made a living by selling his calligraphy. When he reached the Temple of the Heroic Emperor in Changzhou, he spent the night there. In his dream, the temple was illuminated by bright lights; he prayed and drew lots. The message on the lot read: “The land is safe, but the waters are dangerous; trees in autumn face fierce winds.” To know the day when family will be reunited, one must go to Jinling Prefecture. Waking up at dawn, he remembered every word. He thought to himself, “I was robbed on the river and rescued; I’ve lived in the mountains for these years. The first line, ‘The land is safe, but the waters are dangerous,’ already applies. ‘Trees in autumn face fierce winds’ indicates separation from family. Is there really a day of reunion? Jinling is in Nanjing, and the Imperial Censor’s office is called Fufu. I shouldn’t go to Yizhen anymore; I’ll go straight to the Nanjing Imperial Censor’s office to file a complaint. Maybe then I’ll get justice.” At daybreak, he prayed to the gods and asked for a sign. “If I should go to Nanjing, please grant me a sacred tube.” When he threw it, it indeed turned out to be a sacred tube. Delighted, Su Yun left the temple and headed straight for Nanjing. There, he wrote a complaint and went to the Censor’s office by the river to submit it. The complaint read: I, Su Yun, a native of Huanzhou under direct imperial rule, passed the imperial examinations and became a scholar. I was initially appointed as the county magistrate of Lanxi and set off for my post, passing through Yizhen. Disaster struck when our boat leaked, so we hired another ship from Minister Gong of Shandong, but it was overloaded. Unexpectedly, the boatmen, Xu Neng and Xu Yong, were accustomed to robbing on the rivers. In the middle of the night, they moved the boat to a secluded place and tied us up. Fortunately, we were rescued by someone who provided us food. All our belongings were lost, and the fate of my wife and servants is unknown. Powerful officials protect thieves—only heaven can put an end to this. I appeal to the authorities! The Censor in charge of the river was Su Yun’s classmate. After reading the complaint, he felt great pity for him. He immediately sent a document to the governors of Shandong, ordering Minister Gong to capture the thieves Xu Neng and Xu Yong. Just as the document was sent, Censor Xu Jizu came to pay his respects. The Censor mentioned the matter casually. Xu Jizu took it seriously, left the Censor’s office, and immediately ordered the officials to summon the men from the Censor’s office to his own office to give them instructions. When Xu Jizu returned to his office, the officials brought the men in and made them kowtow, asking, “What orders do you have?” Xu Jizu said, “We already know something about the thieves on Minister Gong’s ship. I’m giving you two taels of silver as funds. You can wait for a couple of days. When I call you, come right away. I’ll ensure you can catch the real thieves without having to go to Shandong.” The men accepted the order and left. Soon after, a messenger arrived...

Old Master Bao arrived. Master Xu went out to greet him, showing some hesitation. Thinking of the kindness shown in raising and teaching him, as well as the debts of gratitude and resentment, he decided to fulfill proper etiquette today. Immediately, officials were sent downstream to bring them to the yamen. It turned out that when Shi Neng and Xu Yong set out, their accomplices—Zhao San, Weng Bibi, Yang Lazi, Fan Bopí, and Shen Huyu—all relied on their kinship ties to prepare a generous gift of a hundred gold pieces to celebrate with Master Xu. It seemed fate had brought them there to seek death. Yao Da first entered the yamen and kowtowed. Master Xu asked him to invite the “First Master” and “Second Master” to the yamen, where they knelt on carpets to pay their respects. Xu Neng accepted it with dignity. The others wanted to bow to Xu Yong, but Shi Yong refused stubbornly, insisting that only Master Xu should bow, offering instead a deep bow. Zhao San and his gang, who had always lived in Xu Neng’s household and treated Xu Jizu like a relative, now, with Master Xu holding high office, saw things differently. Zhao San and the others addressed him as “Imperial Censor,” while Xu Jizu called him “noble relative.” The two sides met as guests and hosts, with meals prepared to entertain them.

That evening, Xu Jizu summoned Yao Da secretly in his study to ask for his gold coin and the blood-stained robe. The pattern on the robe was identical to that given by the old woman from Tingzhou. “That old woman also said my face resembled her son’s; clearly, she is my grandmother. The nun at Cili Lake Temple is my real mother. I’m even happier that my grandfather died, allowing us to reunite here and settle this matter once and for all.”

The next day, a grand banquet was held in the back hall to entertain the seven members of Xu Neng’s group, with much drinking and celebration. Master Xu pretended to be busy with official duties and left alone. He gathered fifty or sixty strong and quick men, arranging everything so that at his signal they would rush into the back hall to capture the six thieves. He also ordered the yamen officials to quickly summon Master Su, who had filed the complaint, to meet him at the entrance. In a short while, Master Su arrived and immediately tried to kneel before Master Xu. Master Xu held him up by both hands, and they stood facing each other. Master Su spoke through tears. Master Xu said, “Old sir, don’t worry. There are many distinguished friends in the back hall; please go and recognize them!” Master Su entered the back hall. First, he was wearing plain clothes and a small hat; second, he had aged over the years; third, it was a surprise. Xu Neng and the others recognized Master Su right away. Master Su, though surprised, still recognized their faces. After looking closely, he was shocked and stepped back, saying to Master Xu, “These people are exactly the pirates from the boat. Why are they here?” Master Xu didn’t respond immediately. With a wave of his fan, fifty or sixty officials rushed in and tied up the seven men, including Xu Neng. Xu Neng cried out, “Jizu, save me!” Master Xu scolded, “You dead thief! Who is your child? Do you recognize this former county magistrate, Master Su, from nineteen years ago?” Xu Neng then cursed Xu Yong, saying, “If only you had listened to me back then and let him stay alive! Now it’s too late to regret it!” He also ordered Yao Da to come forward as evidence, but none of them said anything. Master Xu instructed the patrol officers, “Take these eight people with me and send them to prison. Tomorrow, I’ll prepare the necessary documents and send them to the yamen.”

The distribution was completed, and orders were given to close the doors. Lord Su was asked to return to the back hall. Seeing these bandits captured at the banquet, Lord Su did not understand what was going on. He intended to ask for clarification before expressing his gratitude. Then Lord Xu placed a chair facing south and invited Lord Su to sit, immediately bowing his head in reverence. Lord Su hurriedly stopped him, saying, “Your Excellency has never shown kindness to me; why such humility?” Lord Xu replied, “I have long known nothing of my father’s whereabouts and failed to provide for him—please forgive my unfilialness!” Lord Su insisted, “Your Excellency must be mistaken! I have no son.” Lord Xu said, “A filial child is one born of one’s own father; here is proof in the robe.” He took out the robe given by the old woman from Zhuozhou and handed it to Lord Su. Recognizing it from the hole made for lighting oil on the collar, Lord Su asked, “This robe was made by my mother—how did you get it?” Lord Xu then brought out another robe stained with blood, along with a gold hairpin. After examining them, Lord Su recognized them as his wife’s jewelry, wondering how they ended up there. Lord Xu recounted in detail how he met his mother in Dingzhou, how the nun at Cai Shi Post reported the matter, and how Yao Da revealed the truth. Only then did Lord Su realize everything and cried, holding his head. Coincidentally, just then Wen Zi recognized each other, and a drumbeat was heard outside announcing, “Nun Zheng from Ci Hu Guanyin Temple has been summoned.” The servant quickly ordered her to be brought in. After 19 years apart, Lord Su and his grandmother reunited. Lord Su also introduced his children to their mother. Overcome with grief, the couple and children wept together. Then they cleaned the back hall and prepared another celebration feast. Truly, just as an old tree sprouts new branches and grows lush again, clouds part to reveal a brighter moon.

The next morning, officials from the five provincial administrations, six ministries, six departments, thirteen agencies, and various county offices in Nanjing, upon hearing that Lord Xu’s family had been reunited, came to offer their congratulations. The censor in charge of overseeing the region returned the case file submitted by Lord Su to him, allowing him to conduct his own trial. After bidding farewell to the officials, Lord Xu instructed his subordinates to prepare a large board. The bandits were brought out of prison, each with shackles on their feet and hands, kneeling at the steps. Having grown up in the Xu family, Lord Xu was well aware of these criminals’ history of killing and robbing; there was no need for torture. Relying on his past advice, and since both Lord Su and his wife owed him their lives, he advised his son to spare them. Lord Xu pardoned them all and drove them out of the yamen. They left to express their gratitude. Shandong’s Minister of Works, though far away, still needed to be investigated. The main culprits, Neng You and Zhao San, were sentenced to 80 strokes each. Yang Lahe and Shen Hu, who helped on the ship, received 60 strokes each. Although Yao Da also played a role on the ship, his wife had shown him kindness by nursing him, so he and Weng Bini and Fan Bopí each received 40 strokes. Regardless of the difference, everyone was beaten until their skin was torn and blood flowed. Unable to bear the pain, Yao Da cried out, “Your Excellency personally promised to spare me one stroke—how can you break your word?” Lord Xu then reduced his sentence by 10 strokes, giving him only 30. After the beating, they were ordered to be imprisoned.

Lord Su retreated to the back hall and consulted his father. He drafted a memorial to report the entire incident to the emperor. He first changed his surname to Su Tai, symbolizing that after extreme misfortune comes good fortune. He also proposed executing the bandits and confiscating their property to use as funds for the border defenses. At the end of the memorial, he wrote, “My father, Su Yun, originally came from a humble background and never held any official position. After 19 years of hardships, his desire for officialdom has faded. My grandmother is over eighty years old and lives alone in our hometown; I do not know…”

Survival or death. I am nineteen years old and still unmarried, with no hope of marriage. I earnestly beg for imperial grace to grant me leave to return temporarily to my hometown with my father, so that I may visit my relatives and get married.

The petition was submitted.

By this time, Xu Jizu had changed his name to Su Tai. He wrote a letter with his new name and went to various offices in Nanjing to pay his respects. He also wrote a letter to his niece to express his gratitude to Cao Jiang Lin, the imperial censor. Remembering his grandmother’s words, he sent someone to Lanxi County to inquire about Su Yu’s whereabouts. The officials from Lanxi County reported that Su Yu had arrived there fifteen years ago but died of illness. The county magistrate arranged his funeral, and his coffin was kept in the City God Temple. Su Yu and his father wept bitterly. They then sent someone with enough silver to travel to Lanxi by water, to transport Su Yu’s remains back to his ancestral graves in Fenzhou for burial. The next day, the petition was approved, and all requests were granted. Su Tai was once again appointed as an imperial censor, and his father was allowed to return home via official courier. The Ministry of Justice suggested that Su Yu and his father attend the execution of the thieves. Su Tai had already arranged in prison for Yao Da to be strangled, thus sparing him one more execution. Xu Neng sighed and said, “Although I never married Lady Su, having served as her grandfather for three years, I am content to die now.” The thieves looked at each other, ready to face death. Soon, two beats of drums sounded, followed by the clanging of gongs. The executioners were like the kings of hell, while the executioners themselves were like celestial beings. Wealth taken by force turns to nothingness; all heroes in the world eventually face their fate. In front of the hall of judgment, everyone feared the arrival of evil spirits; on earth, everyone rejoiced at the deaths of those criminals!

Earlier, documents were sent to the officials of Yangzhou Prefecture and Yizhen County, ordering that the six robbers be expelled from their homes, their doors sealed. Any treasures they possessed became property of the government. Families cried over their lost children and possessions. Only Yao Da’s wife, who was originally Su Tai’s wet nurse, cried all the way to Nanjing to see the imperial censor. Su Tai felt grateful for her care during his infancy, and since the criminal had already been executed, there was no need to punish her further. Fearing she might become too upset, he gave her fifty taels of silver to support herself for life, allowing her to settle down wherever she wished. With nothing else to do in the capital, Su Tai bid farewell to his uncle Lin Caojiang. The imperial censor said goodbye to the officials and set off, with two golden banners ahead—one reading “Authorized to Visit Relatives” and the other “Imperially Approved Marriage.” With flags, drums, and music, they returned from Yangzhou in great pomp. Upon passing through Yizhen, Su Tai became very emotional. His mother then reminded him of Zhu Po’s suicide by jumping into a well, and mentioned the old nun in the monastery. The imperial censor ordered an investigation into that well. Some locals said that nineteen years earlier, a corpse had floated on the surface of the well. After three days of trying to identify it, no one could do so, so they paid to have the body buried nearby. Once the information was received, the imperial censor prepared offerings and paper money, sending officials to the grave by the well to offer sacrifices. He also gave a hundred taels of gold to the old nun and ten taels of silver to help her build a temple to pray for the souls of Su Yu, Zhu Po, and Su Sheng and his wife. This is what is meant by repaying evil with good and kindness with virtue. Su Tai and his father personally went to burn incense and worship Buddha.

After all these matters were settled, the next day they arrived in Linqing, Shandong. They first stopped at the ferry station, where they encountered a high-ranking official named Wang Gui, who had retired from his position as a first-rank minister. The ship that Xu Neng had commandeered belonged to Wang Gui’s family. When Xu Neng’s true identity was revealed, chaos ensued in Yizhen County. Wang Gui’s family, fearing retaliation, moved to Shandong to live with their elders.

The minister resided there. Later, it was learned through inquiry that although the boat bore the official emblem of the minister’s residence, it was actually rented, and the royal family was unaware of this. The old minister was extremely grateful. Today, upon seeing the envoy, he personally went to the ferry station to welcome him. Upon meeting Mr. Su’s father, he expressed his thanks repeatedly and hosted a banquet in his honor. At the banquet, he asked, “Since the censor has been granted permission to marry, I wonder whose family this young lady comes from?” Su Yun replied, “I have not yet chosen a bride.” Minister Wang said, “I have a younger daughter in my younger branch of the family; she is twenty-eight years old and quite beautiful. If the censor does not disdain me, I would be happy to arrange a marriage for her.” Mr. Su declined politely at first but eventually agreed. They stayed temporarily in Linqing, choosing an auspicious day for the wedding. There is a poem to prove this: “Under the moon, a red thread once tied her feet; why shoot at the eyes on the bird’s perch?”

Once I hated the minister’s boat, who would have thought the minister himself would become part of my family?

After three days, Mr. Su wanted to leave, but Minister Wang tried hard to keep him. Mr. Su said, “I’ve been away from my mother for so long; I don’t know if she’s still alive. My desire to return home is like an arrow!” Minister Wang didn’t want to cause trouble. Seven days later, he prepared a generous dowry, arranged horses and carriages, and sent the young lady off with her husband in fine clothes. There was no conversation along the way. When they arrived at their old home in Tingzhou, they were glad to find the old lady still healthy. Seeing that both her son and daughter-in-law were already middle-aged, she felt sad. But when she saw her grandson as the man she had met while fetching water years ago, she was overjoyed. She had once regretted having no children, but now she had grandchildren. With two generations of successful candidates in the imperial examinations and many servants, they couldn’t settle in their burned-down house, so they temporarily lived in the censor’s office. They built a new residence for the censor, with officials from the county and prefecture helping with the construction—truly completed in just a short time. Su Yun stayed at home, taking care of his father until he passed away at the age of ninety. Su Tai rose through the ranks to become chief censor. His wife, Lady Wang, gave birth to a son who would succeed him as Su Yu, and both of their sons also passed the imperial examinations. To this day, stories of Su Nu’s efforts to right a wrong are told in the village. There is a poem that goes:

“Dark moon, strong wind, waves surging high;
In this chaotic world, thieves run rampant.
Peaceful waves go back and forth—this is nature’s law;
How can evil people live long?”

Volume Twelve: Fan Tuo Er’s Reunion Through the Mirrors

The curtain rolls up at Water West Tower, where a new tune is sung.
Sleep under the lingering rain and clouds—
Don’t spoil your youthful dreams; enjoy all the wine you can before life ends.
Tomorrow you’ll board the boat again, calling tonight a memory of the past.
It’s still the same face of decline—don’t worry!
The crescent moon shines upon how many provinces?

This poem borrows phrases from Wu songs. The Wu song goes: “The moonlight bends and shines—
How many provinces? How many families happy, how many sad?”

In every household, husband and wife share one tent—
How many families scattered in distant lands?

This song dates back to the Jianyan era of the Southern Song Dynasty, depicting the suffering of the people due to chaos. It stems from the poor governance during the Xuanhe era, with those who favored flattery and power, leading to the Jingkang disaster when the Jurchen invaders captured Emperors Huizong and Qinzong and took them north. Prince Kang crossed the river by boat, abandoning Bianjing and establishing a separate regime under the Jianyan era. At that time, the people along the Eastern Road feared the Jurchens and followed the imperial court southward. They were pursued by enemy cavalry, and amidst the chaos, countless families were separated! Often, fathers and sons, husbands and wives never saw each other again; yet some who were separated later reunited, and these stories became popular legends among the people. As the saying goes:

“The sword’s edge may part or reunite;
The lotus pearl may break or be whole.
Everything is fate; everything depends on heaven!”

Now, there was a man named Xu Xin from Chenzhou who had learned excellent martial arts since childhood. He married a woman surnamed Cui, who was quite beautiful. Their family was wealthy, and they lived comfortably together. But when the Jurchen troops invaded and the emperors were taken north, Xu Xin and Cui discussed that it was unsafe to stay there. They packed their belongings into two bundles, each carrying one, and fled with the other people day and night. When they reached Yucheng, they heard loud cries behind them, thinking it was the enemy chasing them, but it turned out to be defeated soldiers from the southern forces. Due to long-term neglect of military discipline, these soldiers were terrified at the thought of fighting and fled without a fight. When they encountered ordinary people, they robbed them of wealth and women, showing off their strength. Although Xu Xin was skilled, the overwhelming number of enemies left him no choice but to flee for his life. Hearing cries everywhere, he turned around but could no longer see Cui. Unable to find her in the chaotic army, he continued on. After several days, exhausted, he had no choice but to give up.

When he arrived in Zhaoyang, hungry and thirsty, he went to a village inn to buy some wine. During times of chaos, the inn was not as it used to be—there was no wine for sale. Even the food was just simple stuff, and fearing robbery, they only gave it after he paid fully. While Xu Xin was counting the money, he suddenly heard a woman crying. Not caring about his own affairs, as concern only brings chaos, he stopped counting and rushed out of the inn. There he saw a woman wearing only a single garment, with disheveled hair, sitting on the ground. Though she resembled his wife in appearance, Xu Xin felt compassion and thought, “This woman must also have suffered hardships.” He approached her to ask about her situation. She said, “I am from Zhengzhou; my given name is Jinu…”

Following her husband to avoid the soldiers, she unexpectedly got separated along the way, and alone, she was captured by the chaotic troops. After traveling for two days, she arrived at this place. Her feet were swollen, making it impossible for her to move even a step. The bandits stripped her of her clothes and abandoned her here. With no clothes or food, and no one around to help, she wanted to find a way to die, which is why she cried bitterly.” Xu Xin said, “I also lost my wife in the chaos of war; we truly understand each other’s suffering. Fortunately, I have some money with me. My lady, why not stay in this inn for a few days to rest and recover? I’ll try to find out about your husband’s whereabouts and then come to seek you out. What do you think?” The woman wiped away her tears and thanked him, saying, “That would be great.” Xu Xin unpacked his belongings and gave her some clothes to wear. They ate together in the inn, and he rented them half a room where they could settle down together. Xu Xin was very kind, bringing them tea and food every day. Grateful for his kindness, she realized that finding her husband and wife would also be difficult. Being alone today was also fate; it was fortunate that they met each other. A few more days passed, and her feet stopped hurting. Xu Xin and she became husband and wife and set off for Jiankang. At that time, Emperor Gaozong had moved south and ascended the throne, changing the era name to Jianyan. He issued orders to recruit soldiers, and Xu Xin joined as a military officer, settling in the city of Jiankang.

Time passed quickly, and before they knew it, it was the third year of Jianyan. One day, Xu Xin and his wife returned from visiting relatives outside the city. It was already late, and his wife was thirsty. Xu Xin took her to a teahouse to drink tea. There was already a man sitting there. When he saw the woman enter, he stood aside and stared at her intently. The woman kept her head lowered, not paying attention to him, which puzzled Xu Xin greatly. After drinking tea and paying the bill, they left, but the man followed them from a distance. When they reached home, the man was still standing at the door, reluctant to leave. Xu Xin became angry and asked, “Who are you? Why are you spying on someone else’s wife?” The man bowed and apologized, saying, “Please don’t be angry, sir! I have something to ask.” Xu Xin, still angry, replied, “Then speak!” The man said, “If you’re willing to listen, let’s go somewhere private where I can tell you the truth. If you’re still angry, I won’t dare speak.” Xu Xin indeed followed him to a quiet alley. The man seemed hesitant to speak. Xu Xin said, “I, Xu Xin, am also a generous man. You can speak freely.” Only then did the man dare to ask, “Who was that woman just now?” Xu Xin replied, “She’s my wife.” The man asked, “How many years have you been married?” Xu Xin answered, “Three years.” The man asked, “Is she from Zhengzhou, named Wang, with the childhood name Jin Nu?” Xu Xin was shocked and asked, “How do you know that?” The man said, “That woman is my wife. We were separated due to the war, and I didn’t expect her to end up in your hands.” Hearing this, Xu Xin became very uneasy and recounted in detail how he had gotten separated in Yucheng and met this woman at an inn in Suiyang. He said, “At that time, I really felt sorry for her, as she had no one to rely on. I didn’t realize she was your wife. What should I do?” The man said, “Don’t worry. I’ve already married someone else. Our past bond as husband and wife doesn’t need to be mentioned anymore. But since we parted in such haste without even saying goodbye, if we could meet briefly to share our sorrows, I wouldn’t have any regrets.” Xu Xin also felt sad and said, “A true man…”

A photo of the shelf—wherever there’s understanding, I await you at my place today. Since you’ve married again, you might as well bring your new wife along; let us be relatives, so as not to draw attention from neighbors.” The man thanked him joyfully.

Before parting, Xu Xin asked for his name, and the man replied, “I am Lie Junqing from Zhengzhou.” That night, Xu Xin told his servant Jin Niu about the whole situation. Jin Niu thought of his former husband’s kindness and secretly shed tears, not sleeping all night. By dawn, after washing up, Lie Junqing and his wife arrived. Xu Xin went out to greet them. When he saw Junqing’s wife, both were shocked and burst into tears. It turned out that Junqing’s wife was Xu Xin’s sister-in-law, the Cui family. After their husband left Yucheng, she searched for him and ended up in Jiankang with an old man, renting a house to live in. Two months passed with no news from her husband. The old woman said he would never return, so she arranged for her to marry Lie Junqing. Who would have thought that one day they would meet again—truly a stroke of fate. They recognized each other as their former spouses and hugged while crying. Immediately, Xu Xin and Lie Junqing exchanged oaths of friendship and hosted a banquet to celebrate. In the evening, they exchanged their wives, returning each to their original spouse. From then on, they maintained close relations, as proven by this poem:

Husbands exchange wives, wives exchange husbands—what a foolish arrangement.
Meeting again is surely fate’s clever plan; smiling by the lamp, we recognize our old selves.

This story is titled “Mutual Marriages” and takes place in Jiankang during the third year of Jianyan. There’s another similar story called “The Reunion of Twin Mirrors.” Though not as extraordinary, it embodies virtues of loyalty and morality, making it even more meaningful. As the saying goes, stories must be simple to spread far, and words must reflect virtue to move hearts.

In the fourth year of Jianyan, in the south, there was an official from Guanxi named Lü Zhongchuan, appointed as tax supervisor in Fuzhou. At that time, the seven provinces of Fujian were still prosperous. Zhongchuan brought his family to take up the position. Fuzhou, surrounded by mountains and the sea, was a major southeastern city. Also, with unrest in the Central Plains, it provided a refuge. They set out that year and arrived in spring of the following year, passing through Jianzhou. According to “Yudi Zhi,” “Jianzhou boasts beautiful waters and red mountains, making it the most scenic place in eastern Fujian. Just like the old saying: ‘In Luoyang, flowers are as colorful as brocade in March, but I arrived when spring had passed.’” Since ancient times, wars have led to destruction; invaders crossed the river and ravaged Zhejiang. Fujian avoided war but suffered from a famine—a consequence of fate.

The story focuses on the famine in Jianzhou, where rice cost a thousand coins per shi, leaving people struggling to survive. At a time when the country was at war and food was crucial, the government only focused on collecting taxes, ignoring the people’s poverty. As the saying goes, “Even the cleverest housewife can’t make porridge without rice.” With no money or food to pay, the people endured harsh treatment from the officials. In groups of two, they fled into the mountains and became bandits. “Like a snake moving without a head,” they formed their own gangs.

The sun came out. This man’s surname was Fan and his given name Ruwei. He spoke out for justice and saved people from disasters. Bandits flocked to him like a river in flood, gathering to over a hundred thousand. Their activities included setting fires in windy weather and killing people in darkness; when there was no food, they shared whatever meat they had. The military forces could not withstand them and suffered several defeats. Fan Ruwei then took control of the area and built a city called Jianzhou. He declared himself marshal and sent troops in all directions to plunder. All members of Fan’s family were given fake titles and became military officers. Among Fan Ruwei’s relatives was a nephew named Fan Xizhou, twenty-three years old. Since childhood he had mastered a special skill—he could stay underwater for three or four days and nights. Hence he earned the nickname Fan Eel. Originally a scholar who hadn’t achieved fame through official exams, he was forced by Fan Ruwei. Those in his family who refused to join him in rebellion were first beheaded as a warning. Xizhou, valuing his life, had no choice but to follow him. Though among the bandits, he focused on helping people whenever possible and avoided any acts of robbery. Seeing his reluctance, the bandits, using his nickname “Eel,” renamed him “Fan Blind Eel” as a mockery.

Now, Lu Zhongyan had a daughter, nicknamed Shunge, twenty-eight years old. She was beautiful and gentle in temperament. She followed her parents on duty to Fuzhou and arrived near Jianzhou just as Fan’s bandits were attacking soldiers, stealing their luggage and wealth and scattering people everywhere. Lu Zhongyan lost track of his daughter and searched everywhere in vain before giving up and leaving. As for Shunge, she had small feet and couldn’t walk, so she was captured by the bandits and taken to Jianzhou City. Crying bitterly, she was seen by Fan Xizhou along the way, who felt pity for her. When asked about her family, she explained that she was the daughter of an official family. Xizhou then ordered the soldiers to back off and personally untied her. He took her to his home, comforted her with kind words, and expressed his feelings: “I am not actually a rebel; I was forced here by my family. Once the court offers amnesty, I will return to being an honest citizen. If you won’t reject me and become my wife, it would be my greatest fortune.” Shunge initially didn’t want to go with him, but having no other choice, she agreed. The next day, Xizhou reported this to Fan Ruwei, the leader of the bandits, who was very pleased. Xizhou took Shunge to the official residence and arranged the betrothal. Xizhou had an ancestral mirror, a pair of mirrors combined into one fan shape. Its clear light shone brightly; it could be opened and closed, and inside were the characters for “mandarin duck,” making it known as the “Mandarin Duck Treasure Mirror,” which he used as a wedding gift. He invited all of Fan’s family members to witness the wedding ceremony with candles lit.

One was from an old noble family, the other a famous beauty from a distinguished family. One was refined and graceful, the other gentle and delicate. One lived among bandits yet still retained his heroic spirit; the other, though a captive, preserved her noble appearance. That day, the outlaw world had a fine guest; tonight, the beauty found a fortunate partner.

From then on, the couple lived harmoniously, respecting each other like guests. As the saying goes, “A broken pot stays close to the well.” Fan Ruwei committed grave crimes, but he took advantage of the chaos caused by court intrigues, when military strength was weak. Who would have thought that famous generals like Zhang Jun, Yue Fei, Zhang Jun, Zhang Rong, Wu Jiu, and Wu Lin would repeatedly defeat the Jin invaders and bring peace to the country? Emperor Gaozong then chose a site for the imperial altar...

In the winter of the first year of the Shaoxing era, Emperor Gaozong ordered Han Jin Tu, whose given name was Shi Zhong, to lead a large army to capture Fan Ruwei. Since Fan Ruwei was no match for Lord Han, he had no choice but to close the city and defend itself. Lord Han built a long siege wall to encircle the city. It turned out that Lord Han and Lu Zhongchuan had previously known each other in Dongjing. This time, as Lord Han led his troops to suppress the rebels, he knew that Lu Zhongchuan served as a tax inspector in Fuzhou and must be familiar with the local customs of Fujian. At that time, the generals sent on missions all carried imperial decrees allowing them to appoint local talents as they saw fit. Thus, Lord Han appointed Lu Zhongchuan as the commander of the troops stationed outside Jianzhou City, in charge of directing the siege operations. Inside the city, people cried day and night. Fan Ruwei tried several times to break out through the gates, but was always killed by the enemy troops, putting them in an extremely desperate situation.

Shun Ge said to her husband, “I have heard that ‘a loyal subject serves only one lord, and a chaste woman does not marry more than one man.’ I was captured by the rebel army and vowed to die. Thanks to your rescue, I became your wife; now my life belongs to you. With the enemy army surrounding the city, it is certain the city will fall. Once it falls, you will be considered an ally of the rebels and surely not spared. I wish to die before you, unable to bear to see you executed.” She drew the sharp sword beside her bed and attempted to commit suicide. Xi Zhou quickly grabbed her, took away the sword, and comforted her, saying, “I fell into the hands of the rebels against my will. Now with no way to clear my name, I’ve resigned myself to death. You are from a noble family; being captured here means nothing to you. The soldiers under Lord Han Yuanxiang are all from the north, and so are you. You can communicate with them easily—why give up hope? Perhaps you’ll meet some acquaintances who can inform your father, allowing you to reunite with your family. Life is precious; why die needlessly?” Shun Ge replied, “If I am given another chance at life, I swear not to remarry. Even if I were captured again, I would rather die by the sword than lose my chastity.” Xi Zhou said, “With your resolve, I can die in peace. If I somehow survive, I vow to marry you for life as a token of my gratitude for your kindness today.” Shun Ge said, “The ‘Mandarin Duck Mirror’ was meant as a gift for our marriage. I will keep half of it with me, hidden safely. When we reunite, we’ll use this mirror to bring us back together.” After saying this, they sat facing each other.

These events took place in the twelfth month of the winter of the first year of the Shaoxing era. By the first month of spring in the second year of Shaoxing, Lord Han captured Jianzhou City. In desperation, Fan Ruwei set fire to himself and died. Lord Han raised yellow flags to offer amnesty to the remaining rebels, except for the Fan family. Half of the Fan clan died in the chaos, while the rest were captured by the enemy troops and taken to Lin’an as prisoners. Seeing the situation worsen and believing Xi Zhou would surely die, Shun Ge rushed into an abandoned house, tied a silk scarf around her neck, and attempted suicide. Truly, she preferred to die as a chaste spirit rather than live as a woman who lost her integrity. Just then, Commander Lu Zhongchuan led his troops past and saw someone attempting suicide in the ruined house. He quickly ordered his soldiers to stop. Upon approaching, they saw it was Shun Ge. After dying and coming back to life, she could speak only after some time. The father and daughter reunited, filled with both sorrow and joy. Shun Ge recounted how she was captured by the rebels and how Fan Xi Zhou rescued her and they married. Commander Lu was speechless.

It is said that General Han pacified Jianzhou and brought peace to its people. Once everything was settled, he returned to Lin’an with Commander Lü to report their achievements to the emperor. It goes without saying that the emperor rewarded them for their merits. One day, Lord Lü discussed the matter with his wife. Their daughter was still young and unmarried, so it was time to arrange her marriage. Both parents tried to persuade her to remarry. Shun Ge recounted the vows she had made to her husband and firmly refused. Lord Lü scolded her, saying, “A girl from a good family marries a rebel—what else can be done? Thankfully, you’re dead now, freed from this situation. What more do you want?” Shun Ge replied through tears, “That young man from the Fan family was originally a scholar and a gentleman. He was forced by his clan; he had no choice. Although he’s among the rebels, he always tries to do what’s right and never commits any immoral acts. If heaven has eyes, he will surely escape from this perilous situation. We are like duckweed in the sea; perhaps we’ll meet again someday. I prefer to stay at home, take care of my parents, and remain a widow until my death, without any regrets. If you insist that I remarry, it’s better to let me commit suicide rather than become a woman who lacks integrity.” Seeing that she spoke sensibly, Lord Lü stopped pressing her.

Time flew by, and before long, it was the twelfth year of the Shaoxing era. Lord Lü had risen to the rank of military commander and was stationed in Fengzhou to defend the region. One day, an envoy from Guangzhou sent He Chengxin with a message to the military headquarters in Fengzhou. Lord Lü invited him into the hall, asked about matters in that region, and kept him there for a long time before letting him go. Shun Ge peeked through the curtain in the back room. After Lord Lü left, she asked, “Who was the one who brought the message just now?” Lord Lü replied, “It was He Chengxin, an envoy from Guangzhou.” Shun Ge said, “Strange! His speech and mannerisms seem exactly like those of the young man from the Fan family in Jianzhou.” Lord Lü laughed loudly and said, “Jianzhou has been conquered. All those surnamed Fan have been pardoned—only the dead remain. How could anyone still be alive? That envoy from Guangzhou is surnamed He, and he’s an official appointed by the court. He has nothing to do with this. You’re just imagining things. If my concubine heard this, it would be laughable.” Shun Ge was embarrassed by her father’s words and dared not speak anymore. Truly, deep love between husband and wife leads to discord between father and son.

Half a year later, He Chengxin brought another message to Lord Lü’s office. Shun Ge peeked through the curtain again, filled with suspicion. She said to her father, “I’ve already devoted myself to religious life; how could I still have feelings of marriage? But after thinking carefully, that man from Guangzhou who surnames He looks very much like Young Master Fan. Why don’t you invite him to the back room, offer him food and drink, and ask him carefully? Young Master Fan’s childhood name was ‘Er’. Years ago, when they were besieged, knowing defeat was inevitable, they divided a ‘mandarin duck mirror’ in two as a token of memory. If you call him by his childhood name and use this mirror to test him, you’ll surely discover the truth.” Lord Lü agreed. The next day, He Chengxin came to the office to receive a reply. Lord Lü invited him to the back room and hosted a banquet for him. During the drinking, Lord Lü asked about his background. He Chengxin stammered, showing signs of embarrassment, and said, “Isn’t ‘Er’ your nickname? I already know everything. But it’s fine to tell me!” He Chengxin asked Lord Lü to send everyone away, then quickly knelt down and pleaded, “I deserve death!” Lord Lü helped him up and said, “There’s no need to be like this!” Only then did He Chengxin dare to confess everything: “I’m from Jianzhou. My real surname is Fan. In the fourth year of the Jianyan era…”

Note that you should only output the translated text without any additional explanations:
Fan Ruwei, a member of the same clan, incited the starving people to rebel by seizing the city. The young officer ended up among the rebels out of necessity. Later, when the main army arrived to attack and capture the city, all of the rebels’ relatives were executed. The young officer, who had always been resourceful, managed to get in and provide assistance. He then changed his name to He Chengxin and went ahead to accept amnesty. In the fifth year of Shaoxing, he was assigned to Yue Fei’s unit and followed him on campaigns against the rebel Yang Mo by Dongting Lake. Yue Fei’s troops were all from the northwest and not experienced in naval battles. The young officer, being from the south, was skilled in swimming and could stay underwater for three days and nights, which earned him the nickname “Fan Eel”. Yue Fei personally chose him as the vanguard, sending him ahead in every battle, and thus the rebellion was quelled. Yue Fei recommended the young officer’s merits, allowing him to obtain a military position. He gradually rose to the rank of commander in Guangzhou. Over the years, he never revealed this to anyone else. Now that he held a high position, he dared not hide it anymore. Lord Lu asked, “What is your wife’s surname? Was it your first marriage or a remarriage?” Chengxin replied, “While among the rebels, I captured a woman from an official family and married her. After the city fell a year later, we separated and fled separately. We agreed that if either of us survived, we must not remarry—she would not remarry either. Later, I went to Xinzhou and managed to find my old mother. To this day, I still live with her, keeping only a simple maid to cook for us; I have not gotten married.” Lord Lu asked further, “When you made that agreement with your former wife, what did you use as a token?” Chengxin said, “There was a ‘mandarin duck mirror’—when combined, it formed one piece, and when separated, it became two. Each spouse kept one half.” Lord Lu asked, “Is that mirror still there?” Chengxin replied, “I carry it with me day and night; I can’t bear to be separated from it.” Lord Lu said, “May I borrow it to take a look?” Chengxin untied his clothes and from the sash around his waist took out a embroidered pouch, inside which was the precious mirror. Lord Lu took it to examine it, then took out another mirror from his sleeve and combined them—it looked exactly as if they were one. Seeing the mirrors match, Chengxin couldn’t help but cry loudly. Moved by his loyalty and virtue, Lord Lu also shed tears and said, “Your wife is actually my daughter. My daughter is currently in the yamen.” He then led Chengxin to the main hall where they met, and both wept bitterly. Lord Lu comforted them and arranged a celebration banquet. That night, he allowed Chengxin to stay at the yamen.

A few days later, Lord Lu sent his daughter to accompany Chengxin as he set off for his post in Guangzhou. A year later, when Chengxin’s term was up and he was about to go to Lin’an, he took his wife with him to Fengzhou to bid farewell to Lord Lu. Lord Lu prepared gifts of gold and sent officials to escort Chengxin to Lin’an. Realizing that many years had passed and no one would accuse him of anything, and to ensure the Fan family would not lose its lineage, he submitted a request to the Ministry of Rites. He stopped asking for a change of surname but kept his name, becoming Fan Chengxin. He eventually rose to the position of governor of Lianghuai, and the couple lived together until old age. The two mandarin duck mirrors were passed down through their descendants as precious treasures. Later generations commented that Fan Eel, despite having been among the rebels, showed great resourcefulness and saved many lives. His survival today and reunion with his wife were rewards for his accumulated good deeds. There is a poem to prove this:

“For ten years we were separated, like crows at the ends of the sky;
Yet once again, as the sun shines, we’re like mandarin ducks in the mirror.
Don’t say it’s just chance that we’re reunited—
It’s all thanks to the good deeds that moved heaven.”

Volume 13: Three Apparitions – Bao Longtu Resolves a Wrongful Case

Gan Luo acted early while Zi Ya was late; Peng Zu and Yan Hui had shorter lives than Qi. Fan Dan was poor while Shi Chong was rich—after all, it’s all a matter of timing.

It is said during the Yuanyou era of the Great Song Dynasty, there was a high-ranking official named Chen Ya. Having failed in his attempt to criticize Zhang Zihou, he was appointed as the governor of Jiangdong and also in charge of Jiankang Prefecture. One day, while attending an official banquet at Linjiang Pavilion, he suddenly heard someone outside the pavilion shouting, “Without using the five elements, one can still know about fortune, misfortune, rise, and fall.” The high official asked, “Who dares to speak such things?” Some of the officials recognized him and said, “It’s Bian Yin, a sorcerer from Jinling.” The high official ordered him to be brought in immediately. When Bian Yin arrived, he wore a tattered hat without a brim, a blue robe, frosty beard, narrow eyes, and a Wa-like physique. Bian Yin carried a staff in his hand. After bowing deeply, he sat down on the steps. The high official angrily said, “Since you have narrow eyes and cannot read the books of ancient sages, how dare you dismiss the five elements and consider yourself superior!” Bian Yin replied, “I am good at judging when to advance or retreat by listening to sounds, and I can tell life from death by hearing the sound of footsteps.” The high official asked, “Is your skill truly effective?” Before he could finish speaking, they saw a painted boat coming down the river from upstream. The high official asked Bian Yin what kind of disaster or fortune this meant. Bian Yin replied, “The sound is mournful; the boat must be carrying the funeral of a high-ranking official.” The high official sent someone to investigate, and indeed it turned out to be Li Langzhong, the military officer of Linjiang Army, who had died in office, and his body was being taken back. The high official was greatly astonished and said, “Even if Han Dongfang Shuo were revived, he couldn’t surpass you.” He gave Bian Yin ten jars of wine and ten taels of silver before sending him away.

Bian Yin could indeed predict disasters and fortunes through sounds. Now let’s talk about a fortune-teller named Li Jie, who was from Kaifeng Prefecture in the Eastern Capital. Before going to Fengfu County in Chongzhou Prefecture, he opened a fortune-telling shop. There, he pasted a large golden sword made of gold paper, with a sign underneath that read, “Slicing through all the same voices of the world’s great teachings.” This man truly had expertise in yin and yang. He was well-versed in the Book of Changes, skilled at analyzing the six kings, familiar with astronomy through observing the celestial patterns, and knowledgeable about feng shui by studying geography. He understood the five planets thoroughly and could predict good and bad fortune like a prophet; he also knew the secrets of the three destinies and could determine success or failure, rise or fall as if seeing it clearly.

One day, after hanging up the sign, a man came in. What was his appearance? He wore a sash around his back and a headband, two layers of gray shirts, a silk belt around his waist, clean shoes and socks on his feet, and a scroll of writings in his sleeve. After greeting the man with the golden sword, he provided the date and time, and the fortune-teller drew the hexagrams. The fortune-teller said, “This destiny cannot be calculated.” That man was actually Sun Wen, the top official in Fengfu County. He asked, “Why can’t you calculate my destiny?” The fortune-teller replied, “I must inform you, sir, that this destiny is difficult to calculate.” The official asked, “Why is it difficult?” The fortune-teller said, “Sir, if you drink alcohol, don’t come for fortune-telling; if you protect those who are wrong, don’t come either.” The official said, “I don’t drink alcohol, nor do I protect the wrongdoers.” The fortune-teller said, “Please provide the date and time again, for fear of mistakes.” After the official gave the details again, the fortune-teller drew the hexagrams once more and said, “Sir, please refrain from having my calculate your destiny.” The official...

The sage said, “I refrain from giving a precise prediction, but it’s alright to speak.” The official replied, “The omens are not good. Write down four lines; they are as follows:
When the tiger approaches, disaster surely follows.
By dawn, all relatives will be in grief.”

The magistrate read them and asked, “What kind of disaster or fortune does this omen indicate?” The sage replied, “I truly dare not hide it—your high rank will lead to your death.” The magistrate asked again, “In which year will I die?” The sage said, “This year.” He asked further, “In which month of this year?” The sage replied, “This month.” He then asked, “On which day of this month?” The sage said, “Today.” The magistrate asked once more, “At what time of day or night?” The sage answered, “At three o’clock in the morning, today.” The magistrate said, “If you die truly tonight, everything will be settled; if not, I’ll deal with you in the county tomorrow!” The sage replied, “If I don’t die tonight, your highness will come tomorrow to take this sword of execution and cut off my head!” Hearing this, the magistrate grew furious, his anger surging, and he drove the sage out of his divination shop. Why such a fate? It was because the sage knew everything about the world, filling himself with endless worries.

Soon, several officials from the county came out and stopped Magistrate Sun, asking what the commotion was about. The magistrate said, “What’s the meaning of this? I casually bought a fortune-telling reading, and it says I’ll die at three o’clock in the morning. I have no illness at all. How can I die at that time? I’ll throw him into prison so that justice can be done.” The others said, “Fang Xin is a fraud—he sold his house and his fortune-telling business without any remorse.” They strongly supported Magistrate Sun. Then they blamed the sage, saying, “Sir, you’ve angered this famous magistrate; it seems you won’t be able to practice fortune-telling here anymore. It’s easy to predict poverty or low status, but lifespan is hard to determine. You’re not the son of a king or the brother of a judge—how can you predict life and death with such precision, day by day? You should speak more gently.” The sage replied, “If I flatter people, the predictions won’t be accurate; if I tell the truth, I provoke anger.” With a sigh, he packed up his divination shop and moved elsewhere.

As for Magistrate Sun, though he was persuaded by others, he still felt embarrassed. That day, he took the documents back to the county, troubled in mind. When he returned home, his wife saw his furrowed brows and worried expression and asked, “What troubles you? Is there some issue in the county?” The magistrate replied, “No, don’t ask.” She pressed further, “Was it because you were punished by the county magistrate today?” He said no. She asked again, “Was it a dispute with someone?” He still said no. He explained, “Today I went to the county and bought a fortune-telling reading. That sage said I’ll die at three o’clock in the morning, today.” Upon hearing this, his wife’s eyebrows furrowed and her eyes widened in shock. She asked, “How can someone be forced to die just like that, overnight? Why not throw him into prison?”

A lawsuit? The magistrate said, “Just suppress him; everyone persuaded him.” The wife said, “Husband, stay at home for now. I usually have matters to attend to and go in front of the county magistrate to speak on your behalf. Now I’ll go find that scholar to talk to him for you. My husband owes no official money or private debts, nor are there any urgent official matters pressing upon him. Why must he die at midnight tonight?” The magistrate said, “Don’t go, you fool. If I don’t die tonight, I’ll deal with it myself tomorrow—it’s better than you going back to another family.” By then it was already late. The magistrate said, “Let’s prepare some wine to drink. I won’t sleep tonight and will spend the night in amusement.” After a few drinks, he became thoroughly drunk. There he saw Magistrate Sun sitting on a chair, with drunken eyes, dozing off. The wife asked, “Husband, how did you fall asleep so quickly?” She called her daughter, “Go wake your father up.” The daughter went over and shook him, but he wouldn’t wake; she called him several times with no response. The magistrate’s wife said, “Daughter, let’s help Magistrate Sun into the room to sleep. If he still talks nonsense, we’ll hold him by the shoulders and arms and drag him back.” But Magistrate Sun, still under the influence of alcohol, refused to go to bed at all. It was as if he were living in that very day and hour. He was no better than Li Cunxiao in the History of the Five Dynasties or Peng Yue in the Book of Han—aware only of the crickets chirping in the wind, unaware of death approaching unseen.

Seeing her husband unable to sleep, the wife instructed her daughter to light a candle in the kitchen, saying, “Have you heard your father say that the fortune-teller predicted he would die at midnight tonight?” The daughter replied, “Mom, I’ve heard that too. How could such a thing be true!” The magistrate’s wife said, “Daughter, let’s make some money by sewing; let’s see if he dies tonight. If not, we’ll deal with it tomorrow.” She told the daughter, “Don’t sleep!” The daughter said, “How dare I sleep!” But after a while, she dozed off. The magistrate’s wife said, “Daughter, I told you not to sleep—how did you fall asleep?” The daughter said, “I’m not sleeping.” But soon she fell asleep again. The magistrate’s wife called out, asking what time it was. The daughter listened to the drumbeats from the county office—it was exactly three o’clock. The magistrate’s wife said, “Daughter, don’t be careless! It’s such an important time!” But the daughter fell asleep again. Suddenly, they heard the magistrate jump out of bed, and there was a noise at the front door. The magistrate’s wife hurriedly woke the daughter and lit a lamp. They heard a loud noise at the main gate. The daughter and the magistrate’s wife rushed over with the lamp and saw a person in white, covering their face with one hand, stepping outside before plunging into the river of Fengfu County with a splash. It was truly a situation too painful to bear—everything was left to the east wind. That river flowed directly into the Yellow River, rushing swiftly—there was no way to retrieve the body! The magistrate’s wife and the daughter cried loudly by the river, “Magistrate, why did you throw yourself into the river? Who are we to rely on now?” They immediately called the four neighboring households—Sister Diao on one side, Sister Mao on the other, Sister Gao and Sister Bao across the street—all came running. The magistrate’s wife recounted everything that had happened. Sister Diao said, “There really is such a strange occurrence!” Sister Mao said, “I saw the magistrate returning during the day wearing a dark robe with documents in his sleeves; I called out to him.” Sister Gao said, “That’s right; I also called out to him.” Sister Bao said...

“My family member went to the county office early in the morning. I saw the magistrate beating the fortune-teller, and when he returned, he said something. Who would have thought he would really die!” Sister Diao said, “Magistrate, why did you leave us neighbors like this? How could he die so suddenly?” Tears streamed down her face. Sister Mao said, “Thinking of all the good things the magistrate did, how can one not be worried?” She too shed tears. Sister Bao said, “Magistrate, when will we be able to see you again?” Immediately, they filed a lawsuit, and the magistrate’s wife had to perform some rituals to pray for the soul of the deceased.

Three months passed in the blink of an eye. One day, the magistrate’s wife and Ying'er were sitting at home when two women came in, their faces red from eating. One carried a bottle of wine, while the other held two bunches of flowers. They lifted the curtain and said, “This is the place.” When the magistrate’s wife looked, it turned out to be two matchmakers, both surnamed Zhang or Li. The magistrate’s wife said, “I haven’t seen you for a long time.” The matchmaker replied, “The magistrate’s wife has been worried. We didn’t bring any incense paper yesterday; please don’t blame us! How long has it been since the magistrate died?” She answered, “It’s been a hundred days since his death.” The two said, “That’s great! It’s already been a hundred days. When the magistrate was alive, he was such a kind person. Sometimes I would argue with him, but he never got angry. Now that he’s dead, the house is quiet, making it easier to arrange a marriage.” The magistrate’s wife asked, “When will someone like my late husband, Judge Sun, appear again?” The matchmaker said, “That’s not difficult. I have a suitable candidate for you.” The magistrate’s wife said, “Wait, how can he be like my first husband?” After drinking tea, the two left. A few days later, they came to propose another marriage. The magistrate’s wife said, “Don’t keep coming to propose marriages. If you can meet three of my conditions, then come back. If not, don’t even mention marriage; I’d rather remain single for life.” Then she listed those three conditions: “It might be fate that we encounter our enemies from five hundred years ago, both suffering punishment from the state. Just as it’s hard to distinguish between a deer and a minister in Qin’s time, or know whether a butterfly is dreaming of Zhuangzi.”

The matchmaker asked, “What are those two conditions?” The magistrate’s wife replied, “First, my late husband’s surname was Sun, so I want to marry someone with the surname Sun. Second, my first husband was the top magistrate in Fengfu County; I also want someone with a similar position. Third, if I don’t get married, I want him to live in my house.” Hearing this, the two said, “That’s great! You want someone with the surname Sun, someone with a similar position, and to live in your house. If it were other conditions, it would take more effort to arrange, but since these three conditions can all be met, let the magistrate’s wife know that her first husband was the top magistrate in Fengfu County, called Grand Judge Sun. The one who’s coming now is the second-ranking magistrate in Fengfu County. Now that Grand Judge Sun has died, he’s taken his place as the top magistrate, called Young Judge Sun. He’s willing to live in your house. Shall I arrange for the magistrate’s wife to marry Young Judge Sun?” The magistrate’s wife said, “I can’t believe there are so many coincidences!” Matchmaker Zhang said, “I’m seventy-two years old this year. If I’m lying, I’ll turn into seventy-two female dogs and haunt the magistrate…”

“The daughter-in-law eats shit.” The judge’s wife said, “Indeed so. Please explain in detail, good auntie. What is the fate?” Matchmaker Zhang said, “Let’s take advantage of this fine day to get a wedding invitation for a harmonious union.” The judge’s wife replied, “I haven’t bought one at home.” Matchmaker Li said, “I have one here.” She then took out a piece of decorated paper showing five sons and two daughters, with the inscription: “Snow hides Sichuan’s green birds; only then do they appear. Willows conceal parrots’ voices; only then do we hear them.” That day, the judge’s wife asked Ying'er to bring pen and ink so she could write the invitation, which the two matchmakers took away. No gifts were given yet, as messages were exchanged back and forth. Two months later, Judge Xiao Sun returned home.

The couple was truly a perfect match, just as they said. One day, after drinking too much wine, they asked Ying'er to prepare some soup to sober them up. Ying'er went to the kitchen to stoke the fire, complaining, “When the former judge was here, I could go to bed anytime I wanted. Now they make me prepare soup to sober up!” The firewood was blocked in the stove, preventing it from burning. Ying'er lowered her head and struck the firewood against the bottom of the stove. After a few strikes, the bottom of the stove slowly rose, lifting more than a foot off the ground. A man appeared, with his neck wrapped in a pole, hair hanging down, tongue sticking out, and blood dripping from his eyes. He cried out, “Ying'er, please help your father!” Ying'er screamed and collapsed, her face pale, eyes bright, lips purple, and nails blue. It was unclear what happened to her internal organs, but her limbs drooped first. It was as if her body carried a mountain under the light of dawn, and her life was like a lamp whose oil had run out at midnight. The couple rushed to revive Ying'er and gave her some soup to calm her spirit. They asked her what she had seen that made her faint. Ying'er told her mother, “I was stoking the fire by the stove when I saw the bottom of the stove rise. I saw my late father, with a pole around his neck, blood dripping from his eyes, hair hanging down, calling for Ying'er. I was so frightened that I fainted.” Hearing this, the judge’s wife slapped Ying'er hard: “You silly girl! I just asked you to make soup to sober up, and instead you make up all these nonsense stories! Stop it and go sleep!” Ying'er went to sleep.

Later, when the couple returned to their room, the judge’s wife whispered, “Second brother, this girl is useless after seeing such things. Let’s send her away from our house.” Judge Xiao Sun asked where to send her. The judge’s wife said, “I have an idea.” By dawn, after cooking breakfast, the judge went to the office to handle official matters. The judge’s wife called Ying'er over and said, “Ying'er, you’ve been with us for seven or eight years now. I really care about you. Things aren’t the same as when the former judge was here. Do you want to get married? I’ll arrange a marriage for you.” Ying'er replied, “How dare I hope for that? But if I’m to marry someone, it must be…” This decision led to Ying'er’s death at the hands of Judge Taisun. It’s as if one only realizes there are cicadas in the trees when the wind stops, and one sees the moon by the window only when the lamp goes out.

At that time, Ying’er had no say in the matter and was forced to marry a man. That man’s name was Gong Xing; he was also known as Wang Jiujiu. He loved drinking and gambling. Three months after Ying’er married him, all the money they had was spent on lodging. When he got drunk, he would come home and scold Ying’er, saying, “You wretched bitch! Seeing me in such hardship, why don’t you go ask your master for three or five coins so we can have some money for expenses?” Unable to bear his insults, Ying’er tied her skirt around her waist and went to the house of Judge Sun. When the judge’s wife saw her, she said, “Ying’er, you’ve married someone and now you’re here asking for more money.” Ying’er replied, “I really can’t hide it from you. My husband is a drunkard who loves gambling. In just one month, all our money was spent. I have no other choice but to ask you for three or five hundred coins as emergency funds.” The judge’s wife said, “Ying’er, it’s your own problem after you get married. I’ll give you some silver now, but don’t come to me again later.” Ying’er took the silver, thanked her, and went back home. Four or five days passed, and all the money was spent again. One evening, when Gong Xing was drunk, he came over and scolded Ying’er, saying, “You wretched bitch! Seeing me in such trouble, why don’t you go ask your master again?” Ying’er replied, “I already went before to borrow some silver, but they refused. What else can I do now?” Gong Xing yelled, “You wretched bitch! If you don’t behave, I’ll break one of your legs!” Unable to endure his insults, Ying’er went to Judge Sun’s door that night, but it was closed. She wanted to knock, but was afraid of being blamed, so she had no choice but to return. After passing by a few houses, she heard someone say, “Ying’er, I have something for you. I’m worried about the judge’s wife and Judge Sun because of this person.” Ying’er turned around to see a person on the roof, with long hair, wearing loose robes, holding a bundle of something. The person whispered, “Ying’er, I’m your former judge. I know where he is, but I dare not tell you yet. Give me your hand, and I’ll give you something.” Ying’er took it, and when she looked at what it was, it was a bundle of broken silver coins. She went back home and knocked on the door. From inside, someone said, “Sister, why did you take so long to come back from your master’s house?” Ying’er replied, “Let me tell you. I went to my mother’s house to borrow money, but their door was closed. I didn’t dare to knock again, fearing they’d blame me.” She returned, and there was the former judge on the roof, with long hair, wearing loose robes, giving her the silver coins. When Gong Xing heard this, he said, “You wretched bitch! You’re telling lies to me! Where did these silver coins come from? Come in.” Ying’er entered, and Gong Xing said, “Sister, I remember everything you said about seeing the former judge by the stove. There must be some truth to this. But I was afraid the neighbors would hear, so I pretended otherwise. Keep the silver safe and go report this to the county authorities at dawn.” Truly, “If you plant flowers with care, they won’t wither; if you plant willows casually, they’ll provide shade.”

By dawn, Wang Xing thought to himself, “Wait a moment; there are two matters I must report. First, he is the top official in the county—how dare I harm him! Second, there’s no solid evidence, and even this silver belongs to someone else. It would be foolish to file a lawsuit without proof. It’s better to buy some clothes and two boxes and send them to Judge Sun’s house, then go and visit him.” Having made up his mind, he went and bought the two boxes. The couple got themselves cleaned up and went to Judge Sun’s house. When Judge Sun’s wife saw them, clean and carrying the boxes, she asked, “Where did you get the money?” Wang Xing replied, “Yesterday I received a document from the judge, stating that I owed two taels of silver, so I brought these boxes as payment. Now I won’t drink alcohol or gamble anymore.” Judge Sun’s wife said, “Wang Xing, go back first; let your wife stay here for a few days.” After Wang Xing left, Judge Sun’s wife said to Ying Er, “I have an incense offering to return at the Dongfeng Daiyue Temple. I’ll go with you tomorrow.” That night, nothing further happened.

The next morning, after washing up, Judge Sun went to the county office. Judge Sun’s wife locked the door and left with Ying Er. They went to the temple to burn incense, then proceeded to burn incense along the corridors. As they passed by the Speed Reporting Office, Ying Er’s skirt ribbon came loose, so she tied it again while Judge Sun’s wife went ahead. While Ying Er was tying her skirt ribbon, she saw inside the Speed Reporting Office a judge wearing a horned hat and a sash, who called out, “Ying Er, it’s you—the former judge. Come and explain your case to me!” Ying Er took the item, glanced at it, and said, “It’s not strange! Even the clay gods can speak later on! How could such a thing happen to me? It’s truly unprecedented since the beginning of time.” Ying Er quickly put it in her bosom, not daring to tell Judge Sun’s wife. After burning incense, they each returned home. She told Wang Xing about what had happened. When Wang Xing examined the item, it turned out to be just a piece of paper with the following written on it:

“Elder daughter, younger daughter—what others plow, others reap. To know what happens at midnight, lift it and look beneath the water. By February or March next year, the mystery will be solved.”

Wang Xing couldn’t figure out its meaning and instructed Ying Er not to tell anyone else, waiting to see what would happen in February or March of the following year.

In the blink of an eye, it was February of the next year. A new county magistrate took office—he was from Jin Dou City, named Bao Zheng, the famous statesman mentioned in legends. He later became a scholar of the Longtu Pavilion, hence the name Bao Longtu. At that time, he was still in his early days as a county magistrate. Bao Zheng had been intelligent and upright since childhood. As county magistrate, he could resolve complex human affairs and clear up doubtful cases across the land. Within three days of taking office, he hadn’t handled any official matters yet. One night, he had a dream in which he sat in a courtroom with a couplet posted on the wall: “To know what happens at midnight, lift it…”

“Fire under water.” The next day, at the morning court session, Judge Bao summoned the clerks and asked them to explain these two lines, but no one could understand them. Judge Bao obtained a white plaque and wrote those two lines in regular script on it; it was actually written by Junior Sun, the judicial clerk. After writing it, Judge Bao added in red ink at the back: “Whoever can decipher these words shall be rewarded with ten taels of silver.” He hung the plaque at the county gate, arousing great interest among both officials and commoners alike, all eager for the reward and vying to be the first to read it.

Meanwhile, Wang Xing was buying jujube cakes in front of the county office when he heard people saying that the magistrate had posted a white plaque with two lines on it, which no one could understand. When Wang Xing went to take a look, it turned out to be the words written on a piece of paper by the messenger official. He was secretly shocked. “If I were to report this, the new magistrate seems to be a peculiar man; I’m afraid of offending him. If I stay silent, aside from me, no one else knows the origin of those two lines.” He bought the jujube cakes and went home to tell his wife about it. Ying Er said, “The junior judicial clerk appeared three times, asking me to plead his case, and even gave me a packet of silver as a reward. If I go and report this, it’s as if I’m offering sacrifices to ghosts and gods.” Wang Xing remained undecided. He went back to the county area and happened to meet his neighbor, Officer Pei. Wang Xing knew from before that Officer Pei was an official, so he led him to a quiet alley and discussed the matter with him. “Should I report this or not?” Officer Pei asked, “Where is that piece of paper from the messenger official?” Wang Xing replied, “It’s in my wife’s clothes chest.” Officer Pei said, “I’ll go talk to the magistrate first. You go back and get that paper, then bring it to the county office. When the magistrate calls you, show it as evidence.” Wang Xing agreed immediately. After Judge Bao left the court, Officer Pei saw that Junior Sun, the judicial clerk, wasn’t around, so he knelt down and reported, “Sir, only our neighbor Wang Xing knows the origin of those two lines written on the white plaque. He says it was a piece of paper given to him by the messenger official at the Yue Temple, and there were many words written on it, including those two lines.” Judge Bao asked, “Where is Wang Xing now?” Officer Pei replied, “He’s gone home to get that paper.” Judge Bao sent someone to call Wang Xing back quickly.

Wang Xing returned home, opened his wife’s clothes chest, and checked the paper. To his horror, it was just blank paper with no writing at all. Not daring to go to the county office, he stayed at home, worried. When the magistrate’s messengers arrived, with the new official and new government in such a hurry, he had no choice but to take that blank piece of paper and follow the messengers to the county office. Judge Bao sent everyone away, leaving only Officer Pei present. Judge Bao asked Wang Xing, “Officer Pei said you found a piece of paper at the Yue Temple. Show it to me.” Wang Xing kowtowed repeatedly and said, “Last year, my wife went to burn incense at the Yue Temple. She passed by the messenger officials, and a spirit appeared and gave her a piece of paper. There were words written on it, including those two lines from the sir’s white plaque. I hid it in my clothes chest. Just now when I checked, it had turned into blank paper. Here it is now.”

No one dares to lie. Judge Bao took the paper and read it, then asked, “Do you remember these words?”
Wang Xing replied, “I still remember them.” He immediately recited them to Judge Bao.
Judge Bao wrote down the words, studied them carefully for a while, and then said, “Wang Xing, I ask you—did that spirit give any further instructions to your wife regarding this paper?” Wang Xing answered, “The spirit only told her to plead his case.” Judge Bao became furious and shouted, “Nonsense! Even as a spirit, if there’s an injustice, where else can one plead? Why would your wife have to plead for him? He came to ask you for help! Such absurd talk—whom are you trying to fool?” Wang Xing hurriedly kowtowed and said, “My lord, there is indeed a reason.” Judge Bao said, “Explain it in detail. If it makes sense, you’ll be rewarded; if not, today will be the day you face punishment.” Wang Xing explained, “My wife used to serve Judge Da Sun of this county. Her name was Ying Er. A fortune-teller predicted that Judge Da Sun would die on a certain day at a certain hour. Sure enough, he died. My wife then followed the current Judge Xiao Sun, but she was married to me instead. The first time, while working in Judge Sun’s kitchen, my wife saw the former judge appear—his neck wrapped in a well railing, hair disheveled, tongue out, blood flowing from his eyes, shouting, ‘Ying Er, can you help your father?’ The second time, at night outside Judge Sun’s house, she encountered the former judge again, wearing a ceremonial robe with tassels, giving her a packet of silver coins. The third time, in the ancestral temple, the judge appeared and gave her this paper, instructing her to plead his case. That judge was none other than Judge Da Sun, my wife’s former master.”
Hearing this, Judge Bao laughed heartily. “So that’s how it is!” He ordered his men to bring Judge Xiao Sun and his wife over. “You two have done a good deed!” Judge Xiao Sun asked, “What have I done?” Judge Bao explained the meaning of the message: “Eldest daughter, younger daughter, daughter’s son—these refer to grandchildren, clearly referring to Judge Da Sun and Judge Xiao Sun. ‘The earlier generations till the land, the later generations eat from it’ means you’ve taken his wife for free and enjoyed his wealth. ‘To know what happened at midnight, look under the fire by the well.’ Judge Da Sun died at midnight. To know the cause of his death, ‘look under the fire by the well.’ Ying Er saw her master in the kitchen, with disheveled hair, tongue out, blood in his eyes—clear signs of strangulation. His neck was wrapped in a well railing; well means water, and kitchen means person. Water is below fire, so your kitchen must be built above the well. The dead man’s body must be in the well. ‘Next year, in February or March’—that’s today. ‘These words together form the character ‘Bao,’ meaning I, Judge Bao, am here today as an official to clear his name.’ He ordered his men, “Take Wang Xing and Judge Xiao Sun to his kitchen. No matter what happens, restore the strangled body to its original state.”

Everyone seemed skeptical. When they dug at the base of the stove in Sun’s house, they found a stone slab beneath it. After removing the slab, they discovered a well. They called in laborers to drain the water from the well, then lowered bamboo baskets into it to retrieve something from the bottom. An embalmed corpse was pulled up. Everyone gathered to take a look; their expressions remained unchanged. Some recognized it as Da Sun Yasi, with a rope mark around his neck indeed. Xiao Sun Yasi turned pale and dared not speak. All were shocked.

It turned out that Xiao Sun Yasi had originally collapsed from cold in the heavy snow. Da Sun Yasi saw him frozen and, feeling pity for this young man, saved him and taught him how to read and write documents. It seemed there was some grudge between their families. One day, when Da Sun Yasi returned from fortune-telling, Xiao Sun Yasi happened to be in his house. Seizing the opportunity around midnight, he got Da Sun Yasi drunk, strangled him that very night, and threw his body into the well. Xiao Sun Yasi then covered up the incident by placing a stove on top of the well, later pretending it was part of a marriage arrangement. The people reported this to Judge Bao. Both the yasi and his wife confessed voluntarily, and they were both sentenced to death as retribution for Da Sun Yasi’s death. Judge Bao showed mercy to the common people, awarding ten taels of silver to Wang Xing. Wang Xing gave two taels to Pei Kongmu as thanks, and that was that.

During his first term as judge, Judge Bao became famous throughout the land for resolving this case. To this day, people say of Judge Bao Longtu that he resolves human cases by day and ghostly cases by night. Here is a poem to prove it:

“Who can decipher the riddles in these verses? Judge Bao’s judgment shocks even gods and ghosts.
Those who hide their sins in secret rooms—do not think heaven cannot see through them.”

Volume 14: The Ghost in the Cave – The Leper Taoist Exorcises the Monster

Apricot blossoms fade after the rain, their rouge-like color gradually disappearing. The flowing water carries fragrance, but as people drift away, it becomes hard to convey deep affection. I hate parting from my beloved; from behind the wall, my gaze lingers. Who will pick the green plums? Where are the golden saddles? The willows still stand by the southern road. Love fades in an instant—why must those in love part so easily? Swallows chatter endlessly, yet none can convey news of her. With solemn promises and deep vows, unless we meet again, nothing will be clear. Helpless, my heart is filled with endless sorrow.

This poem is titled “Niannvjiu” and was written by a scholar named Shen Wenshu who went to the capital for exams. It actually consists of lines taken from ancient poems. How can we tell? Let me explain from the beginning: The first line reads, “Apricot blossoms fade after the rain.” Chen Zigao once wrote a poem titled “Hanshi Ci,” sent as a tribute to “Jinmen”:

Willow threads are green; in homes beneath willows, the Cold Food Festival arrives.
The orioles sing softly as flowers stand silent; on the jade steps, spring grass is damp.
Lying idle by the incense burner, I lack strength; who can understand my thoughts?
Sandalwood sticks surround the window and back wall; apricot blossoms shed petals in the rain.

The second line says: “The fading red petals resemble the color of rouge.” Li Qingzhao once wrote a poem titled “Late Spring,” expressing in her song “Pinling”: Fading red petals, like the color of rouge. Through the year’s spring days, willows scatter light fluff, while bamboo shoots emerge anew. Lonely, I face the tender greenery of the small garden. Climbing heights isn’t enough; I long for the traveler’s swift return. In future dreams, I’ll still reach the riverside groves even from afar. Surely there’s someone graceful who will gaze at me from afar.

The third line says: “The flowing water carries fragrance.” Lady Li of Yan’an once wrote a poem titled “Spring Rain,” expressed in her song “Huanxi Sha”: Weak roses bend under the rain; affectionate butterflies fly among the flowers; the flowing water carries fragrance as swallows sing. My spirit fades in the southern waters as spring passes; in Dongyang, my clothes grow thin before my mirror even shows it; tonight, the moon shines gently over the small building.

The fourth line says: “As people grow distant, it’s hard to convey my lingering springtime feelings.” Master Baoyue once wrote a poem titled “Spring,” expressed in his song “Liushao Qing”: Lingering spring feelings—my beloved grows distant; it’s hard to express my sorrow at parting. Then comes the mild cold; before the wind, the fragrance is soft; spring lies in the pear blossoms. The traveler leans against the railing at the edge of the world; where soberness comes, the setting sun and crows are in disarray. Outside the door, there’s a swing; on the wall, there’s rouge—whose home is that in the deep courtyard?

The fifth and sixth lines say: “I hate parting from the prince; my gaze ends at the shadow of the wall.” Ouyang Xiu once wrote a poem titled “Qingming,” expressed in his song “Yi Hu Zhu”: Heartbroken by spring’s end, after Qingming, the orioles and flowers are beautiful. I advise you not to speak of sorrow to others. Those fragrant wheels crush the green leaves. From night till dawn, the wind and moon persist; at the shadow of the wall, no one comes—how much sorrow does parting from the prince bring? Even still, the spring cold holds back the aging of the flower branches.

The seventh line says: “Who will pick the green plums?” Chao Wujiu once wrote a poem titled “Juan Ci,” expressed in his song “Qingshang Yuan”: The wind shakes the trees; the rain falls on the green pines; the tender branches bear heavy flowers. My spring dress is tight; I lack strength; I once, together with him, picked green plums. It’s all like a dream—when will we be together again? Pity those hairpins damaged by knocking! Mountains and rivers separate us; the evening clouds are blue; the swallows have come—but there’s still no news at all.

The eighth and ninth lines say: “Where is the golden saddle? The willows still stand by the southern path.” Liu Tiqing once wrote a “Spring Song” dedicated to “Qingping Le”: The weather remains uncertain; the weak sun warms the shadows of the clouds. Where can I find the path lined with flowers using the golden saddle? The willows still stand quietly by the southern path. How weary am I of spring’s charms! It’s sad to grow old and unable to enjoy them anymore. Look at my hair streaked with frost—it won’t grow back along with the fragrant grass.

The tenth line says: “Clouds and rain vanish in an instant.” Yan Shuyuan once wrote a “Spring Song” dedicated to “Yu Meiren”: The flying flowers have their own places where they linger, not staying on the branches. The morning breeze is gentle enough to cause sorrow; it accompanies the flowing water as it passes by the pleasure houses. The complaints of clouds and rain vanish in an instant; I lean idly on the railing and watch. Tears wet the red blossoms from afar; the beauty’s complexion shines just like that of the flowers.

The eleventh line says: “Why do those full of affection part so easily?” Lady Wei once wrote a “Spring Song” dedicated to “Juanzhu Lian”: I remember it was not yet late in spring; we held hands and climbed among the flowers, our sleeves stained with dew from the blossoms. Secretly, I shared my springtime feelings with the flowers, competing to see which pair would bloom first. Why do those full of affection betray each other? With such easy partings, to whom can I pour out my sorrows? Tears wet the branches of the crabapple trees; the god of spring has left me behind.

The twelfth line says: “Swallows chatter in various ways.” Kang Bo once wrote a “Spring Song” dedicated to “Jianzi Mulan Hua”: The poplar flowers have all fallen; clouds cover the greenery as the wind settles. The curtains hang loosely; swallows chatter as they fly around. In the quiet little room, I wake up with my makeup still unfinished. I dream of returning home, but tears stain my golden-threaded clothes.

The thirteenth line says: “Who can explain anything about her?” Qin Shaoyou once wrote a “Spring Song” dedicated to “Yeyou Gong”: Why has the god of spring gone again? The courtyard is filled with flying flowers and fluff. The clever swallows chirp at people, but who can they explain anything about her? Especially when feeling sad, thinking of that person only adds to the pain. When I wake from a dream filled with longing, it lasts through the night. How unbearable it is to hear the name Du!

Sentences fourteen and fifteen say: “A solemn promise and deep oath—unless we meet again.” Huang Luzhi once wrote a “Spring Song” addressed to “Dǎoliànzi”: Plum blossoms are pink, willows sway like gold; light rain and gentle breeze clear the dust from the paths. Where can I express this solemn promise and deep oath? Unless we meet again, those dear ones.

Sentence sixteen says: “Only then can I be sure.” Zhou Meicheng once wrote a “Spring Song” addressed to “Dīdījīn”: Plum blossoms herald the arrival of spring; willow branches grow long, grass sprouts turn green. Unaware, time passes and my hair turns white; how precious is this time! In the orchid pavilion, I drink wine, thinking of her beautiful face; her dark brows are arched, filled with sorrow over the passing of spring. Messages are separated by thousands of miles; only then can I be sure.

Sentences seventeen and eighteen say: “Now, helplessly, my heart is filled with endless sorrow.” Ouyang Yongshu once wrote a poem addressed to “Diéliànhuā”: The east wind blows cold through the curtains; plum blossoms in the snow announce the early arrival of spring. Now, helplessly, my heart is filled with longing; countless sorrows pile up, bringing only frustration. Let the golden stove warm up quickly—why not use a golden knife to cut colorful patterns? Sleep well under the fragrant quilt until dawn, unaware that morning has come through the gauzy windows.

It is said that Shen Wenshu was a scholar. Today, I’ll also talk about a scholar who came to Lin’an Prefecture to take the imperial examinations, turning it into a novel full of twists and turns. Let me ask you—what is the surname and name of this scholar? It is said that during the tenth year of the Shaoxing era, there was a scholar from Fuzhou, belonging to the Qi military family; his surname was Wu and his name was Hong. Leaving his hometown, he went to Lin’an Prefecture in search of success, hoping to make it onto the imperial list at first attempt and reach high positions within ten years. But fate was not on his side, and he failed on the first try. Deeply frustrated and lacking funds, he was too ashamed to return home, so he simply opened a small school under the bridge in the city to make a living, waiting for the next imperial examination three years later. Each month, he engaged in relationships with several boys and girls. It had been over a year since he started running the school. The local families were grateful as they sent their children to him for education.

One day, while teaching in the school, he heard a bell ring above the blue-clothed curtain, and someone entered. Professor Wu saw that it was none other than Aunt Wang, his neighbor who had moved away half a year earlier. She was actually a matchmaker, making a living by arranging marriages. After greeting her, Professor Wu said, “It’s been a long time. Where are you living now?” The old woman replied, “I thought you had forgotten me. Now I live along the city walls near Qiantang Gate.” The professor asked, “How old are you?” The old woman said, “I’m quite old…”

The age of a horse is seventy-five. How old is the young lady?” The professor replied, “Twenty-two.” The old woman said, “Just now the professor seemed to be over thirty despite being twenty-two. I imagine how much mental energy the professor spends every day! In my humble opinion, he surely needs a young lady to accompany him.” The professor said, “I’ve had people come to me several times, but none with such qualities.” The old woman said, “It’s said that like fish, they gather in schools. If the professor were to know about this, he’d find a fine match here. A house worth a thousand strings of coins, along with a maid named Jin’er who’s also of good character. She knows how to play various musical instruments, can write and calculate, and comes from a noble family. As long as she marries a scholar-official, wouldn’t that be great for the professor?” Hearing this, the professor was overjoyed, his face breaking into a smile as he said, “If such a person really exists, that would be wonderful! But where is this young lady now?” The old woman replied, “If the professor were to know, this young lady came from the residence of Grand Tutor Qin; she’s been there for two months now. Many proposals have been made to her—some from officials at the provincial, ministerial, and court levels, some from those working in the imperial administration, and some from shop owners. But nothing works out for her. The young lady insists, ‘I only want to marry a scholar-official.’ Moreover, she has no parents; she only has her maid, Jin’er. Because she knows how to play musical instruments…” Everyone calls her Li Le’niang, and currently she lives at an old neighbor’s house by Baiyan Pond.

Before the two old women could finish speaking, the wind blew the curtain in front of the door, and someone passed by. Old Woman Wang said, “Professor, have you seen the person who just passed by? It might be your chance to take her as your wife…” Old Woman Wang went outside to follow her, and it turned out to be Li Le’niang, who lived in her house. Her surname was Chen, and she was called Chen Qian’niang. Old Woman Wang brought her inside and introduced her to Professor Wu. Old Woman Wang asked, “Qian’niang, has the young lady in our household found a suitor yet?” Qian’niang replied, “Not yet. There have been good matches proposed to her, but she’s too stubborn. She insists on marrying only a scholar-official, yet no such one seems to exist.” Old Woman Wang said, “I have a good match here. I wonder if you and the young lady would be willing to consider it?” Qian’niang asked, “Then whom should I marry?” Old Woman Wang pointed at Professor Wu and said, “What do you think of marrying this official?” Qian’niang replied, “Don’t joke. If I marry this official, that would indeed be great!” That day, Professor Wu couldn’t teach anymore. He sent Deng Xiao’nan and the others away after they promised to return later. He locked the door with a key and went out onto the street with the two old women. They had to buy some wine to entertain them. After three cups of wine, Old Woman Wang stood up and said, “Since the professor wants this marriage to happen, let’s ask Qian’niang to prepare an invitation.” Qian’niang said, “I have one here.” She took out an invitation from her bosom. Old Woman Wang said, “Qian’niang, we can’t tell lies in front of the professor. Just arrange a day when you can bring the young lady and her maid Jin’er to the tavern under Meijiabridge. I’ll be there to help arrange everything.”

“The bridegroom shall see her in a moment.” The bridesmaid agreed, thanked Professor Wu along with the maids, and left. Professor Wu paid for the wine and went home, bringing up the gossip.

On that day, Professor Wu put on some new clothes and dismissed his students. As he walked toward the inn under Meijia Bridge, Wu Po met him from afar. The two entered the inn together. When they reached upstairs, Chen Qianhuan greeted them, and the professor asked, “Where is the young lady?” The bridesmaid replied, “The child and Jinji are sitting in the east pavilion.” The professor licked the window pane with his tongue, opened it, and exclaimed, “Neither of them is human!” How could they not be human? Initially, seeing their beautiful appearance, he thought the woman was the Goddess of the South Sea and Jinji was the princess serving incense in the Jade Emperor’s palace. So how could he say they weren’t human? Look at Fengle Niang:

Her eyes were like cut water, her face rosy as a peach; her hair was lightly styled like cicada wings, her brows delicately arched. Her lips were like red blossoms, her teeth like rows of fine jade. Her grace was beyond ordinary, as if she had descended from the Jade Terrace, just like a goddess leaving the moon.

Since she married Jinji, her eyes remained clear and lovely, her hair attractive. Her brows resembled a new moon, her cheeks like spring peaches. Her demeanor was like that of a delicate flower not yet in full bloom, her skin soft as jade with a fragrant scent. She wore embroidered shoes with golden buckles, and short purple-gold buttons adorned her hair. She peeked at the handsome man, as if riding out of the wall on a red apricot tree. Ever since those buttons were put on, he couldn’t stop sending gifts and messages through geese. Before long, Professor Wu married that woman. The couple got along very well:

Like phoenixes flying high in the pale sky, or mandarin ducks resting neck to neck in the deep waters.
They vowed to write their love story forever in this life and tie their fates together in the next.

One day, it was the middle of the month. The student Qian came early to pay respects to Confucius. Professor Wu said, “Sister, I’ll go first.” As he passed by the stove, he saw Jinji with a strand of dirty hair covering her back, her eyes bloodshot, and marks on her neck. Seeing this, the professor screamed and collapsed. His family rushed over and helped him recover, and Jinji also assisted in lifting him up. His family asked, “Husband, what did you see?” Professor Wu, being a man of modesty, couldn’t say he saw Jinji in such a state. He pretended his eyes were dazzled and lied, saying, “Sister, I forgot to bring a piece of clothing when I got up. A cold wind blew, and I suddenly felt dizzy and collapsed.” Jinji quickly prepared some medicine to calm his nerves, and he recovered. Yet Professor Wu still harbored some doubts in his heart.

Enough of the trivial talk. It happened to be the Qingming Festival holiday, and none of the students came. The professor instructed his family to change into other clothes and go out for a stroll. Passing by Wan Song Ling, they arrived at Jingci Temple. After seeing someone there, they were about to leave when they saw a man watching Professor Wu sing. The professor returned the greeting promptly. It wasn’t anyone else but the man who measured wine at the tavern across from Jingci Temple. He said, “There’s an official here who wants women to invite you over!” When Professor Wu went to the tavern with the wine measurer, it turned out to be Wang Qi, the deputy judge, also known as Lord Wang Qi. After exchanging greetings, Lord Wang Qi said, “I just came to see the professor but didn’t dare approach him directly, so I sent someone to invite you.” The professor asked, “Where are you going now, Lord Wang Qi?” Lord Wang Qi said nothing aloud but thought to himself, “Professor Wu has just married a new wife and hasn’t been home for long. Let me amuse myself at his expense.” He replied, “I want to go to Professor Wu’s house and visit the graves. This morning, the person who checks on the graves said, ‘Peach blossoms have bloomed, and the Du wine is ripe.’ Let’s go drink a few cups there.” The professor agreed. The two left the tavern and headed toward Su Gong Di, where they saw many people enjoying the spring scenery: crowds everywhere, carriages and horses in abundance. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves, the bright sun shone brighter, mandarin ducks swam among the green willows, and pink butterflies flitted among the colorful flowers. Wherever music played, there were dancing and singing. Laughter filled the air near the spring pavilions. Fragrant carriages raced past, with riders competing with their horses. Young men with fair faces struck gongs, while women in red lifted embroidered curtains to look outside.

They rented a boat at the road crossing and went ashore at Mao Jia, then continued past Yu Quan Long Jing. Lord Wang Qi’s grave was located at the foot of Xi Shan Chi Xian Ling. What a tall peak! After descending the hill, they walked another mile to reach the grave. Zhang An, who took care of the graves, greeted them. Lord Wang Qi immediately asked Zhang An to prepare some snacks and wine. In a small garden nearby, the two sat down. They drank homemade Du wine and got very drunk. By then, it was already late; the red sun had set in the west, and the moon had risen in the east. Beautiful women returned home with candles, while fishermen ended their fishing on the river. Fishermen sold their fish and returned along the bamboo paths, while shepherd boys rode their donkeys into the flower-covered villages.

As it grew darker, Professor Wu wanted to leave, but Lord Wang Qi said, “Let’s drink one more cup. I’ll go with you. We’ll cross Chi Xian Ling and take the Nine Li Pine Road; we can stay at a brothel for the night.” Professor Wu said nothing aloud but thought to himself, “I have a new wife at home. If I don’t go back for the night, she’ll be waiting for me. What should I do? Even if I rush to Qiantang Gate now, it will be closed by then.” He reluctantly followed Lord Wang Qi up Chi Xian Ling. You might think things happen by chance, but there’s always a reason. On that very peak, clouds gathered in the northeast and fog spread in the southwest, leading to a heavy downpour. It was indeed like a river of silver pouring down, as if the ocean basin had tipped over—what a fierce rain! With nowhere to shelter, they continued walking in the rain for several dozen steps before seeing a small...

Hide, hide!
The bamboo gatehouse. Official Wang Liu San said, “Stay here for now.” It wasn’t the rain outside the gatehouse that was the problem; rather, pigs and sheep were being led to slaughterhouses, trudging along the path one by one.

Hide!
Two people rushed over during the rain. What they saw was a wild graveyard. There was just a gatehouse in front of the entrance, with no houses inside at all. Two people sat on the stone slope, waiting for the rain to stop before moving on. Looking straight ahead, they saw a man dressed like a prison guard jumping from the bamboo fence next door into the graveyard. He went up to a mound of graves and called out, “Zhu Xiao Si, I’m calling you here today—today you’ll pay for your crimes!” From within the grave mound, a voice replied, “Grandpa, it’s Xiao Si.” Soon, the soil on top of the grave opened, and a man jumped out. The prison guard chased after him and left. Professor Wu and Official Wang Qi San saw this and stood there, trembling, unable to move. When they saw the rain stopping, they continued walking. The ground was slippery, and they were terrified. Their hearts pounded like those of little deer, their legs felt weak like those of defeated roosters, and it seemed as though thousands of soldiers were chasing them. They didn’t dare look back. When they reached the top of the mountain, they pricked up their ears. Voices came from the valley, along with the sound of sticks breaking inside the forest. Soon, they saw the prison guard forcing the man out of the grave mound. The two of them ran away again. At the top of the ridge, there was an abandoned mountain temple. They rushed into the temple and hurriedly closed both doors. They pressed themselves against the doors, not daring to breathe or even fart. Outside, they heard someone shouting, “Kill me too!” Another person said, “You wretched scoundrel! You owe me a favor yet haven’t repaid it—how can I kill you?” Official Wang Qi San whispered to Professor Wu, “Listen to those voices outside—that’s the prison guard and the man who jumped out of the grave mound.” The two of them trembled inside. Professor Wu complained to Official Wang Qi San, “You’ve made me suffer fear here. What about my family back home? They must be wondering what happened to me…” Before he could finish speaking, they heard someone knocking on the door, saying, “Open the door!” They asked, “Who is it?” Listening carefully, it was a woman’s voice saying, “Official Wang Qi San, thank goodness! You kept my husband here all night, forcing me to come looking for him here! Tong Er, let’s push open the door and call your father.” Professor Wu heard the voice outside—it wasn’t anyone else but his wife and Jin Er. How did they know he and Official Wang Qi San were here? Could it be ghosts? Neither of them dared make a sound. Then they heard someone say, “If you don’t open the temple door, I’ll climb in through it!” Hearing this, the alcohol they had drunk during the day turned into cold sweat on their bodies. They heard someone say again, “Mom, it’s not Jin Er being presumptuous, but maybe mom should go back first. Dad will come back tomorrow.” His wife said, “Jin Er, you’re right. I’ll go back first and take care of things.” Then she called out, “Official Wang Qi San, I…”

“And go back. Tomorrow morning, send my husband back.” The two didn’t dare agree to him. The woman and Mian'er said they would go by themselves.

Lord Wang Qi San said, “Professor Wu, your wife and Mian'er are both ghosts. This place isn’t suitable for humans either; let’s leave.” When they opened the temple door to look outside, it was around dawn, and still no one was around. After descending the ridge, there was still over a mile left to go when they saw two people coming out of a forest. In front was Chen Qianniang, and behind her was an old woman. She said, “Professor Wu, we’ve been waiting for you for a long time. Where did you and Lord Wang Qi San come from?” Seeing this, Professor Wu and Lord Wang Qi San realized, “These two old women are also ghosts! Let’s leave!” They rushed down the ridge as fast as they could. The two old women followed slowly behind them. After a night full of chaos, they hadn’t eaten anything, and their stomachs were hungry. Seeing so many strange things that night, they thought, “How can we find a living person to help us?” Just as they were thinking this, they saw a house at the foot of the ridge, with a pine branch hanging in front of the door. Lord Wang Qi San said, “That place is probably selling firewood and wine. Let’s buy some wine here to boost our spirits.” Just as they were about to run into the shop, they saw a man and a woman: wearing headbands made of ox gallbladder, belts made of pig liver, old loincloths, and straw sandals on their feet. Lord Wang Qi San asked, “How do you sell wine?” Deng Han replied, “There’s no soup yet.” Professor Wu said, “At least give us a bowl of cold wine!” But the man didn’t say anything or show any emotion. Lord Wang Qi San said, “This tavern keeper is also awkward—probably a ghost too! Let’s leave...” Before he could finish speaking, a gust of wind arose from the shop:

It wasn’t the roar of a tiger nor the roar of a dragon; in daylight, it couldn’t be blamed on blooming willows, but at night, it revealed mountain demons and water monsters. It blew away the soil in front of the gates of hell and stirred up dust beneath Mount Langdu.

Wherever the wind passed, the bartender disappeared, and the tavern was gone as well. The two were terrified and hurriedly found a boat in front of the Nine-Mile Pine Court, then went to Qiantang Gate and stepped ashore. Lord Wang Qi San went home on his own.

Professor Wu went straight to Wang Po’s house at the foot of Qiantang Gate. He found the door locked. Talking with the neighbors, he learned that Wang Po had been dead for five months already. Professor Wu was stunned and didn’t know what to do. After leaving Qiantang Gate, he went to the site of the current Jingling Palace examination hall, crossed Mei Family Bridge, and arrived by Baiyan Pond. When he reached Chen Qianniang’s house, the door was sealed with bamboo poles, and there was an official lamp in front. On it were eight characters written: “Human hearts are like iron; official laws are like furnaces.” By then, Chen Qianniang had also been dead for over a year. After leaving Baiyan Pond, he headed back to Zhou Bridge.

In his own house, he locked the door with a titanium bar, then went to his neighbor’s house and asked, “Where have my wife and maid gone?”
The neighbor replied, “As soon as the professor left yesterday, the young lady instructed us to go to Lady Qian’s house with Jin'er. They haven’t returned yet.” Professor Wu stood there, confused and unable to say anything.
Then an immortal priest appeared and said to Professor Wu, “You are filled with evil energy; I shall eliminate it from you now to prevent future troubles.” Professor Wu immediately invited the priest in and prepared incense, candles, and talismans. The priest began to chant spells, shouting, “Quick!” Immediately, a divine general appeared—wearing a yellow sash around his forehead, a brocade belt around his waist, sleeves embroidered with floral patterns, and a tight golden armor. He held a sword like autumn wood, with boots that could trample through obstacles. His power reached from the heavens down to the netherworlds. He captured evil dragons from the depths of the sea and evil spirits from mountain caves. By the altar of the Six Dings, he was known as a talisman master; before the throne of the Supreme God, he was called a heavenly warrior.
The divine general whispered, “Whose orders has the True Lord sent?” The immortal replied, “Those who cause chaos in Professor Wu’s house and those who create trouble on Mount Qixian—bring them all to me!” The general obeyed and summoned a gust of wind at Professor Wu’s house. This wind was invisible and intangible, piercing through people’s chests like blooming peach blossoms in February. It gathered yellow leaves on the spot and brought white clouds out of the mountains.
Wherever the wind blew, it captured several evil beings. Professor Wu’s wife, Li Leoniang, was once the third-ranking official in Master Qin’s household. She died after giving birth due to jealousy from the official’s wife. After marrying Jin'er, she was beaten by the official’s wife and committed suicide—she was indeed a ghost. Wang Po died from water poison. Chen Qianniang died while washing clothes by Baiyan Pond. Zhu Xiaokou emerged from a grave on Mount Qixian after being summoned by prison demons; she died from a wasting disease after staring at graves all day. The innkeeper at the foot of the mountain died from typhoid fever. The priest interrogated each of them thoroughly, then took out a gourd from his waist. To humans, it looked like a gourd; to ghosts, it resembled the prison of Mao Du. When he used his magic, those ghosts scurried around in panic and were trapped inside the gourd. He told Professor Wu to bury it at the foot of Mount Qixian. The priest waved his staff into the air, turning it into a celestial crane, and rode off on it.
Professor Wu knelt down and said, “I, Wu Hong, am too ignorant to recognize immortals. I wish to follow you and become a monk. Please save me, dear immortal.” The priest replied, “I am Gan Zhenren from the upper realms. You were once one of my disciples when I collected herbs. Because your heart was not pure, you gave up halfway and thus fell. In this life, you are punished to live in poverty, so that you may experience the suffering of ghosts and overcome your lustful desires. Now that you have seen through these things, you can leave the world and pursue the path of enlightenment. In a year, I will save you.” With that, he turned into a gust of wind and disappeared. From then on, Professor Wu abandoned the secular life and became a monk, traveling throughout the land. Twelve years later, he met Gan Zhenren in the Zhongnan Mountains and followed him. Here is a poem about this:

Fully devoted to the path, free from worldly dust—how dare the great ones offend such a one?
Right and wrong are judged by the heart alone; the ghostly lairs in the Western Hills have long been turned upside down.

Volume Fifteen: The Golden Decree – The Beautiful Maid Repays the Talented Boy

A shepherd gaining a horse is not necessarily good fortune; a blind man like Song Zi is not necessarily ill omen.
Prosperity and misfortune lie in darkness like pitch—only by acting with integrity can one answer heaven’s call.

It is said that within the city of Suzhou there was a Xuandu Temple, built during the Liang Dynasty. Tang dynasty governor Liu Yuxi wrote a poem: “The peach trees in Xuandu Temple,” referring to this very place. It was also known as Xuanmiao Temple. Situated in the heart of the city, it was a masterpiece of Gusu. Its foundation was spacious, and its temples were magnificent—ranging from those dedicated to the Three Pure Ones to those of the Ten Halls, everything was available. There were hundreds of Taoist priests wearing yellow robes. Within it was the Beiji Zhenwu Hall, commonly called the Patriarch Hall. The priests here followed the orthodox Taoism tradition, skilled in writing talismans and sending spirits to determine people’s fortunes. Among them was one priest surnamed Zhang, who often played with a leather sparrow in his hand; people called him Zhang the Leather Sparrow. He was somewhat peculiar—always refusing meat and alcohol, yet he had a particular favorite food. What was it?

In a desolate village under howling moons, in windswept days of frost and snow…
It clearly formed the character for “greatness,” with a dot added beside it.

What he loved to eat was dog meat. The butcher shops treated him as a regular customer—if they caught a strong dog, they would definitely bring it to him. When he enjoyed eating it, the owners would give him money, which he would keep for himself. If there were evil spirits causing trouble, people would ask him to write talismans to protect their homes. When eating dog meat, he would dip his chopsticks in the meat’s juice, write a talisman, and have it posted on the door. Neighbors often saw divine warriors moving around where the talismans were placed, and the evil spirits would immediately cease their activities.

There was a wealthy family who had made profits from usury over the years. To express their gratitude to heaven and earth, they wanted to hold a sacrifice ceremony. They had already invited Zhou Daotu from the Qingzhen Temple to lead the ceremony. Zhou Daotu praised Zhang the Leather Sparrow highly, and the wealthy family, admiring his reputation, ordered their steward to invite him right away. This family kept a very fat dog to guard their home. Zhang the Leather Sparrow had seen it before; now that they asked him to come, he said, “If you want me to come, you must kill this dog for me. Only when the dog meat is thoroughly cooked and the wine is hot will I go to your house.” Bian Fu replied to the wealthy man. Knowing that he was a charlatan, the wealthy man had no choice but to agree. Sure enough, when the wine was hot and the meat was cooked...

Dog meat was brought in, along with Zhang Pi Que. The host welcomed him into the hall and explained his intention to invite him. Incense burners and candles were neatly arranged throughout the hall, and a shrine to the deity was set up; the Taoist priests had already begun offering incense. Zhang Pi Que entered proudly, paid no respect to the other Taoist priests, and simply demanded, “Bring me the rotten dog meat quickly! And the wine should be hot!” Jiao Gong said, “Let’s see what he’ll do after eating and drinking.” A large plate of dog meat and a big pot of wine were placed before Zhang Pi Que, who ate heartily until not a bone remained on the plate nor a drop of wine left in the pot—completely drunk and full. Then he shouted, “Quiet!” He ate happily without even wiping his mouth, then lay down on the prayer mat and fell asleep. His snoring was loud, and he slept from the western altar all the way until the middle of the night. The Taoist priests finished their rituals but he still hadn’t woken up, so none dared disturb him. Jiao Gong and the others grew impatient and began to complain, urging Taoist Priest Zhou to wake him up. Taoist Priest Zhou felt uneasy but didn’t dare argue. He thought, “Zhang Pi Que often gets drunk and sleeps for two or three days—who knows when he’ll wake up this time?” So he burned the petition, thanked the deity, and cleared away the ritual items.

By dawn, after the Taoist priests had eaten and drunk, they were about to leave when they saw Zhang Pi Que jumping up on the prayer mat, spinning around and shouting, “Ten days, ten days! Five days, five days!” Jiao Gong and the other priests, seeing he was delirious, gathered around to watch. Taoist Priest Zhou, brave as ever, stepped forward, hugged him, and woke him up. Zhang Pi Que kept repeating, “Five days, five days!” Taoist Priest Zhou asked why. Zhang Pi Que said, “Who wrote the petition just now?” Taoist Priest Zhou replied, “It was written by me personally.” Zhang Pi Que said, “One character is missing, and two characters are incorrect.” Jiao Gong said, “I also read it several times myself—there were no mistakes. How could such a thing happen?” From his sleeve, Zhang Pi Que pulled out a piece of yellow paper and said, “Isn’t this the petition?” Everyone was shocked when they saw it and exclaimed, “That petition was burned—how could it still be in his sleeve? Not even a bit of the paper corner is damaged!” They read it carefully again, and indeed a character was missing in the sacred title—though it was hard to spot where. Zhang Pi Que pointed to one line: “Suffering losses and hardships to earn double the money; being close to relatives yet treated like a mere son of a thousand gold pieces.” He explained, “‘Suffering losses and hardships’ should have been written as ‘sniffing,’ but it’s written as ‘eating.’ ‘Sniff’ is pronounced ‘chi,’ while ‘eat’ is pronounced ‘ge’—the sounds are different. ‘Wen’ is the character for ‘sue,’ which should replace ‘li nai.’ ‘Nai’ means ‘what can be done?’ and should replace ‘nai bi.’ ‘Nai’ also means ‘endure,’ which should replace ‘nai fan’ in ‘endure hardship.’ ‘Qin’ is the name of a fruit, but it can’t be used here. Are you trying to deceive the deity because you don’t know how to read? Now the deity is furious, and I’m in trouble too.” Jiao Gong and the other Taoist priests, seeing the petition, had no choice but to believe him. They all pleaded, “Let’s rewrite the petition and set up another altar.”

Zhang Pi Que said, “Useless, useless! The omission of a few words in your memorial is a minor issue. But because of this memorial, the Emperor has recorded your good and bad deeds in the heavenly registers. You opened the treasury on your own, became rich through unkind means—taking things lightly when giving them away, and keeping valuable items for yourself while replacing the rest with inferior ones. As for those who pawned goods or money, once the term was up, you pretended to sell them and refused to let them retrieve them. In this way, you exploited the poor while enriching yourself. Your memorial contained no words of repentance, only self-praise. I have already ordered the Thunder Department to burn down your house and destroy your belongings. Out of gratitude for the small kindness you showed, I asked for ten days of grace, but the Emperor refused. After repeated pleas, five days were granted. You should issue a notice stating: ‘Those who come to redeem their pledges within five days will be exempt from interest, only the principal amount will be charged. As for those who have deceived others by swapping their jewelry or taking their goods as collateral, although it may be difficult to return them, if they sincerely wish to give them away, those items can be used to build bridges and repair roads. With such good deeds, the Emperor might reconsider and perhaps recall the Thunder Department.’ At first, Lord Jiao was willing to listen, but upon hearing ‘perhaps recall the Thunder Department,’ he became skeptical. ‘This man surely pretends to use this as an excuse to take my wealth. Could the Thunder Department really be so easily controlled?’ Besides, the person in charge of finances would never relax in calculating profits and losses. He agreed verbally but didn’t truly believe it. Zhang Pi Que and the other diviners left. Lord Jiao sealed up the treasury and stopped using it. On the fifth day, a fire broke out in the treasury, burning down both the front and back halls. The next day, those who had pawned items came to claim them, but he refused to compensate, leading to lawsuits and even the sale of his fields. Lord Jiao became utterly penniless. Some people learned that Zhang Pi Que had predicted the time of the fire, and from then on, they respected and feared him even more.

Zhang Pi Que stayed at Xuan Du Temple for over fifty years before setting sail across the Qiantang River. Due to contrary winds, progress was difficult, so Zhang Pi Que sent celestial generals to pull the ropes, allowing him to move swiftly. Zhang Pi Que laughed heartily, which angered the celestial generals, who attacked him and killed him. Later, a merchant from Huizhou encountered a spirit; Zhang Pi Que descended and claimed to be the great general Ka Yuan Shuai, whose karmic cycle had ended. His generals asked him to return to heaven, not because he was killed. Hearing about the wonders of the Zhenwu Temple, the merchant donated a large sum of gold and piled up a rock in front of the temple as an embellishment. Though this rock looked beautiful, it disrupted the feng shui, resulting in no one among the temple’s monks achieving enlightenment. As the poem says: “The man of thunder once burned down the treasury; his talismans truly drove away ghosts.”

In the Hai Department Temple, there is Zhang Pi Que—don’t say there are no gods, for there indeed are gods.”

Why is Zhang Pi Que’s story told? It’s because there was a family who believed in talismans and summoned spirits, almost causing someone’s death. That person’s surname was Jin and his name Man; he was also from Kunshan County, Suzhou Prefecture. As a young man, he failed to succeed in his studies, so he paid the required fee to become a clerk and worked in the local household department. He was originally a sensible person...

He was extremely self-disciplined in his interactions with others, got along very well with his colleagues, and within just three or four months, everyone in the yamen loved him. He also made friends with these clerks, asking them to support him before the county magistrate, often inviting them for drinks and giving them small gifts. But when the magistrate would conduct interrogations late into the night, he would stay at home instead, getting more and more careless over time. The clerks, grateful to him, would go to great lengths to help him, even though they couldn’t intervene directly before the magistrate. Around mid-May, Jin Lingshi learned that the clerical department was about to assign storage rooms to various clerks, and he thought of securing this favorable position for himself. According to tradition, one clerk was responsible for managing a storage room for two quarters, chosen arbitrarily by the magistrate. Seeing this as an opportunity, all the clerks wanted to get such a role. Whenever the magistrate selected someone, they all agreed. However, the final decision lay with the clerical department. Those who had good relationships with them and gave them gifts could easily get the position, regardless of whether they were new or had completed their term. This was an example of officials using their power secretly.

Jin Man thought to himself, “Although I’m new here, Liu Lingshi from the clerical department is very friendly to me. If I give him some gifts, he’ll surely assign me the room. If it works, my efforts won’t be in vain; if not, I’ll waste money and be laughed at. I need a surefire plan!” Suddenly, he remembered Wang Wenying, who had worked in the yamen for years and had a lot of experience. Why not consult him? He left the yamen and happened to meet Wang Wenying at the entrance. “Uncle Jin, where are you going in such a hurry?” Jin Man replied, “Good brother, I’m here to talk to you.” Wang Wenying asked, “What can I do for you?” Jin Man said, “It’s better if we sit down and talk.” The two went to a tavern nearby and sat down. Jin Man drank heavily while explaining his plan to get the storage room to Wang Wenying. Wang Wenying said, “As long as it gets approved by the department, leave it to me—I’ll make sure you get it.” Jin Man asked, “The department is easy enough, but how can we be sure about the drawing of lots?” Wang Wenying whispered, “Just do this and that—it’s not difficult at all!” Jin Man was overjoyed and thanked him repeatedly. After drinking together again, they parted ways. Jin Man returned to the yamen to buy things for dinner, then invited Liu Yun from the clerical department to his house to discuss the matter. Liu Yun agreed. Jin Man gave him five taels of silver, saying, “This is a small gift for you to buy some fruit. I’ll give you another five taels once everything is settled.” Liu Yun declined politely, saying, “We’re brothers—why be so formal?” Jin Man insisted, “Please accept it. It’s not too much; it shows your kindness.” Liu Yun said, “If that’s the case, I’ll take it for now.” He accepted the silver. They prepared fruits and dishes, and drank together until late at night before parting.

The next day, a clerk who had overheard some rumors brought together the other officials and said to Liu Yun, “Jin is a newcomer; he hasn’t even been here for half a year. How can he already want to take charge of the warehouse? This plan surely won’t work. If you decide to proceed, you’ll have to report it right away on the spot—fearfully, even you might end up in trouble! Don’t be upset then!” Liu Yun replied, “Stop making noise. Everything needs to be discussed properly. Even if he appears friendly in front of everyone and seems perfect, just because he’s chosen doesn’t mean it’s his fault. This is simply a matter of showing favoritism. If we go along with it, it won’t look good in front of our friends; it will only show that we’re heartless.” Another official said, “People fight over fame and profit—what do they care about friends or being heartless?” Liu Yun said, “Alas! Don’t compete with others; just compete with fate. If that’s the case, then it’s fine if you’re chosen tomorrow; if not, these words are unnecessary, and it would only be considered presumptuous.” Two more experienced officials, seeing that Liu Yun made sense, said, “Old Liu, although you’re right, he’s too hasty. Even if he does take charge of the warehouse, it’s unclear whether that will bring good or bad fortune. We should wait until things settle to see how it turns out. What’s the point of arguing? Whether he takes it or not, let’s stop arguing and each go about our own duties.” And so they dispersed. Hearing what the others were saying, Jin Man feared something might go wrong, so he went to ask for favors again, asking the influential locals to write letters to the county magistrate, saying that he was “reasonable and well-off, and could be trusted with various tasks.” This was clearly an attempt to get him to manage the warehouse, though not expressed outright.

Without further ado, on the day of drawing lots, Liu Yun prepared a list of all the officials who should participate and presented it to the county magistrate. He then had someone write down the names on slips of paper, which were submitted for review. After that, the names were mixed together randomly before drawing lots. Wang Wenying’s name was among those drawn first—this was already arranged in advance. You might wonder how fraud could occur during a random draw, but actually, Liu Yun had listed the names in order: Civil, Household, Rites, Military, Criminal, and Public Works. Some from the Civil Affairs department had already served their terms and were included in the list. Jin Man, who worked in the Household Affairs department, was listed first. When it came to Wang Wenying’s turn, a signal had been given in advance. So when Jin Man was the first to draw, things weren’t as easy as they seemed! No one knew the truth—after all, no matter how honest one may be, they can’t escape the cunning of officials. When the other officials saw Jin Man chosen, they all knelt down and said, “He’s a newcomer and shouldn’t be given charge of the warehouse. Moreover, handling finances is no small matter; everything must be reported properly. If Jin Man manages the warehouse, we won’t dare make hasty decisions.” The county magistrate said, “Since he’s a newcomer, he shouldn’t be on the list at all.” The officials replied, “It’s Liu Yun from the Civil Affairs department who accepted bribes from him and included his name on the list.” The magistrate said, “If it was included improperly by the Civil Affairs department, why didn’t you people speak up earlier? Why wait until he was chosen before complaining? This is clearly out of jealousy.” Seeing that the magistrate had made up his mind, none of them dared say another word, ending up looking foolish. In the end, the magistrate showed favoritism on official duty and conducted the draw on the spot.

The author wrote it, and there was no contradiction. Though those officials were jealous, they had no choice but to feign apology and give Jin Man a generous sum of money. A banquet was prepared, and after that, a report was submitted to their superiors—no problem at all.

Now, since Jin Man took over the warehouse on the first day of the sixth month, he gave Liu Yun five taels of silver as thanks. Those clerks, having helped him through fraud, regarded him as a benefactor and became even closer to him than before. Although he was in charge of the warehouse, during the busy farming season everything came to a halt, so there was no way to pay the required taxes or funds. By July and August, there was no rain for a month or so, causing an autumn drought. It wasn’t a complete disaster, but it still led to hardship, and people from the countryside came to complain about the drought. The county magistrate had to go around inspecting various places, but found nothing serious. As time passed, by November, the Imperial Observatory reported that there would be a lunar eclipse on the 15th of that month, and orders were sent out across the country for relief measures. The county followed these orders and notified the subordinate counties. That night, the county magistrate gathered his subordinates, teachers, monks, and Taoists for a relief banquet. According to tradition, the warehouse should have provided a banquet, so the officials were entertained in the back hall. Since no one else could help, Jin Man paid the cooks to prepare the meal, while he himself did not leave the warehouse. He asked Liu Yun and the clerks to take care of the wine vessels and other arrangements at the banquet. The officials simply bowed a few times as per custom and then went to the back hall for drinks. Only the monks and Taoists remained in the front, playing music and making noise until midnight before dispersing. Just as everything was being cleaned up, news came that the new inspector had arrived. The county magistrate hurriedly went down from the boat to welcome him. He also had to handle matters related to the boat and supplies, spending the entire night without sleep.

When dawn broke, upon checking things, four ingots of gold were missing. Jin Man thought, “I didn’t leave the warehouse yesterday. Could someone have used sleight of hand to steal them? I’m afraid they’re still somewhere here.” He searched everywhere but couldn’t find a trace of them. Anxiously, he kept calling Fang Dao, saying, “What bad luck! We’ve lost two hundred taels of silver. What can we use to compensate now? If we can’t compensate, we’ll surely embarrass ourselves in front of the officials. How terrible!” While shouting, he continued searching, turning the room upside down, but there was no sign of them. In a panic, he became disheveled, not knowing what to do. By then, everyone outside knew that silver had been stolen from the warehouse, and they all came to investigate, causing chaos. Among them, those clerks who didn’t want Jin Man in charge of the warehouse were especially happy. They kept making jokes, showing silly faces, and talking cheerfully. Truly, misfortune brings joy to others, while those who try to help end up sharing none of the benefits!

After five or six days, the county magistrate received the inspector and returned to the county. Jin Man had no choice but to report the incident to the county magistrate. Before the magistrate could speak, those clerks interjected, saying, “If you lose silver while in charge of the warehouse, you’ll have to compensate. But when you go to tell the magistrate, will he really not compensate you?” Since the magistrate had favored Jin Man during the previous warehouse selection, he now had some leeway given the loss of silver.

Jin Man said, “You’re in charge of the treasury, and no one else is around—how come there’s no silver left? After all, it must have been spent on prostitution and gambling. Stop making excuses now. I’ll spare you from being beaten for now, but you must replenish the treasury within ten days. If not, I’ll definitely investigate you.” Jin Man left the county office in a frustrated mood. He immediately went to discuss the matter with the local secret police. In the south, such people are called “secret police,” similar to what’s referred to as “foreigners’ hands” in the north. Those who work officially are called “official police,” while their assistants are called “regular police.” Jin Man invited both kinds of police to a tavern for three drinks. He said, “Today I’m troubling all of you not for my own sake. Do ordinary families have four gold ingots? Small coins are more useful, but they’ll inevitably be exposed. As long as you put in effort and catch the thieves, I’m willing to offer twenty taels of silver as a reward.” The police all agreed, saying, “Of course!” Three days turned into nine, and soon the ten-day deadline arrived. The police had drunk several times, but still found no trace. The county magistrate asked Jin Man, “Have you found the silver?” Jin Man replied, “I’ve been searching with the police, but there’s still no sign of it.” The magistrate shouted, “I gave you ten days to make it up—why are you still searching?” He ordered his men, “Take him down and beat him!” Jin Man knelt and begged for mercy, saying, “I’m willing to pay, but please give me another ten days so I can sell some of my family’s belongings.” The magistrate agreed right away.

Jin Man, who was in charge of the treasury, had already managed to save a little money. Now he had to come up with two hundred taels of silver out of nowhere, which was very difficult. He even had to sell all his clothes at home, but it still wasn’t enough. He had only one maid, named Jin Xing, who was fifteen years old and extremely beautiful: she had a straight nose, white teeth and red lips, delicate eyebrows, and lovely eyes. Her hair was like bird feathers cascading down her back, and her hands were soft as bamboo shoots covered in cream. She was like a bean pod still carrying fragrance, or like a young peach bud just beginning to bloom.

Jin Man had always treated her like his own daughter and wanted to find her a good match—perhaps after another year or two, when she met a wealthy man, either as his wife or concubine, he could earn about a hundred taels of silver by arranging her marriage. But now, in desperation, he had no choice but to pawn his house to get the necessary amount of money. He gathered two hundred taels in the form of four gold ingots, placed them in the treasury, and instructed them, “Be more careful next time.”

Jin Man was very unhappy. He locked the treasury door and returned to his office, sitting alone by the door. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Why did he have to use his own wealth like this? It was truly unfortunate! While he was pondering, his servant, Xiu Tong, came in, half-drunk. When he saw his master, he stepped back. Jin Man scolded him, “You stupid fool! Your master is frustrated, and you’re here having fun drinking? I have no money at all, yet you still have money to buy wine?” Xiu Tong replied, “I’ve seen my father upset for two days now, and even I’m unhappy.”

Hah, I often hear people say that wine can ease worries. When one happens to have a bit of money on hand, they buy some liquor to relieve their boredom. When my father didn’t have money for wine, I still had some saved at the shop, so I could just take it. Officer Jin shouted, “Who wants your food!” It turns out that in Suzhou, there’s a custom: anyone who holds an official position, whether inside or outside the government, is addressed as “sir.” Xiutong was sold to the Jin family when he was nine years old and has been raised there since then; now over twenty years old, he’s merely an adopted son, which is why he calls his father “dad.” Xiutong wanting to give his father some wine to lift his spirits shows great filial piety. Yet human hearts are unpredictable, and this act triggered something in the father, almost costing Xiutong his life. As the saying goes: “An old turtle can’t be boiled to death; misfortune shifts to dry mulberry trees.”

At that moment, Xiutong went back inside. Officer Jin thought to himself, “I haven’t slept a wink all night—how could someone else have come in and stolen it? Only Xiutong came in several times to bring things. Could he have stolen the silver?” He then thought, “This boy has followed me around since childhood and is very reliable. I’ve never seen anything amiss with him. How could he suddenly develop thievery in his heart?” He continued, “This guy loves wine. All thieves start with either wine or gambling. After getting drunk and having nowhere else to go, seeing such a large amount of silver right in front of him, how could he resist? But if he spent it all on wine every day, where would he get so much money?” He thought again, “It can’t be him. If he really wanted to steal, he might have taken a few small pieces of silver, but he wouldn’t have the strength to move such a large ingot. And if he did steal it, where would he hide it? Leaving it in the money chest would surely attract attention. Even if he took it out, he’d only take one ingot, leaving three at home. I’ll search his bed tonight and I’ll know for sure.” He thought further, “This isn’t the usual way. If he really stole that much silver, he would surely keep it with his parents at home—why would he leave it with himself? If I can’t find it, it will only make him laugh. If it really is him who stole it, I’ll wrong him unnecessarily and cool his feelings. Oh! I have an idea. There’s a man named Mo Daoren in the county town who can summon spirits to decide matters—success or failure becomes clear. He lives in Yufeng Temple. Why not invite him here to ask and resolve my doubts?” After a night, the next day Officer Jin got up early, ordered Xiutong to buy incense, candles, paper horses, fruits, and also some meat and wine as a gift for the spirit summoner, while he himself went to Yufeng Temple to invite Mo Daoren.

Meanwhile, one of Officer Jin’s old neighbors, a lazy man named Ji Qiguan, happened to see Xiutong buying many things and walked over angrily, asking what was going on. Xiutong replied, “It’s funny to tell. My dad really has bad luck. He already lost two hundred taels of silver on such a foolish affair. We might as well accept it as bad fortune. But then I heard others talking about inviting some monk to summon a spirit. That thief thinks he can fool us today by getting some meat and wine, and tomorrow he’ll definitely demand more as a thank-you. Whether it works or not, we’ll drink three bottles—our initial investment will be covered easily, with even some profit added on. How trivial!” Ji Qiguan thought, “Do you think these monks are really capable?”

Is the living immortal inside? With such good wine and meat, he even fed Xiutong and helped my father gain some strength. Having silenced this thief’s mouth, “Nianzhao, may I thank you as well?” Just then, Jin Lingshi returned from Yufeng Temple. Seeing his family member had arrived, Xiutong left on his own. Jin Man met with Ji Qiguan and asked, “What did you talk about with Xiutong?” Ji Qiguan didn’t believe in summoning generals, so he recounted what Xiutong had said earlier and added, “This boy does have some insight.” Jin Man remained silent in thought, while Ji Qiguan thought it was just idle chatter—unaware that it had stirred up suspicion among the family members, almost costing the boy his life! Jin Lingshi bid farewell to Ji Qiguan and returned to the county, troubled by these doubts. The situation now seemed suspicious: “If he hadn’t stolen the silver, it would have been fine to summon a general—why would he blame that Taoist?” Though he said nothing, it was clear he was “like a clams buried in mud, with a heart full of dirt.”

After a short while, Mo Daoren arrived. He set up an altar and possessed a young student from a neighboring household. Mo Daoren acted as if he were wise, walking in ritual patterns, chanting spells and writing talismans. The young student then began to dance, as if holding a sword, shouting, “General Deng, descend from the altar!” His voice was quite loud, not like that of a child. Seeing a real general descending, Jin Man kowtowed repeatedly, earnestly asking for guidance on identifying the thief who stole the silver. The heavenly general shook his head and said, “It cannot be spoken of; it cannot be spoken of.” Jin Man pleaded again, asking the general to reveal the name of the real thief. Mo Daoren then prepared another spirit tablet and shouted, “Ghosts and gods are impartial; retribution has already come. Those who ask will be answered—immediately!” After Jin Man bowed again, the heavenly general said, “Drive away the outsiders; I will tell you.” At that time, Jin Man’s servants and those working in the yamen heard that Mo Daoren was summoning a general at the Jin family’s house and came to watch, filling the room. Jin Man politely asked them all to leave, leaving only Xiutong behind to respond. The heavenly general called out, “There are still outsiders.” Mo Daoren told Jin Lingshi to send Xiutong outside as well. The heavenly general instructed Jin Man to stretch out his hand, so he knelt down and extended his left hand. The heavenly general dipped his finger in wine and wrote the characters for “Xiutong” on Jin Man’s palm, shouting, “Remember this!” Jin Man was shocked—this confirmed his suspicions. Still fearful, he kowtowed and prayed, “Jin Man has raised Xiutong for over ten years; he has never stolen anything. If this silver truly was stolen by him, then he must be severely interrogated—it’s not a trivial matter. With the gods above, please investigate further, not following human opinions or desires.” The heavenly general dipped his finger in wine again and wrote the characters for “Xiutong” on the table. He also drew them in the air, showing the same two characters. Jin Man believed it to be true, with no more doubts. Then Mo Daoren wrote a dismissal talisman, and the young student collapsed backward. After being helped up, he took a long time to recover and remembered nothing.

Jin Man distributed the three kinds of sacrificial animals as thanks to the general and blessed Mo Daoren. He pushed him forward and went out that very night to summon the underworld enforcers to catch the thief. The leader of these enforcers was called Zhang Erge. Jin Lingshi then questioned him about the matter.

What the boy said, as well as the matter of heaven naming him three times, was described in detail. Even the secret detectives had about eight or nine ways to proceed. Yes, it’s just that he didn’t come through their investigation; he was assigned this task instead. He declined, saying, “Without official authorization, it’s difficult to interrogate.” Gu Man, who frequented the courthouse, surely understood, so he said, “I’ll handle this matter myself; it has nothing to do with you all. As long as we use severe torture to get the truth out, I won’t shortchange even a bit of the twenty taels promised earlier.” Zhang Yinbu agreed and, along with his four brothers, went to get help, then immediately followed Jin Lingshi.

By now, it was time for the night watch. Xiu Tong packed up the items in the hall, had dinner, and then carried a lamp to leave the county to welcome his master. As soon as he stepped outside the county gate, those three or four secret detectives threw ropes around his neck. Without further ado, they dragged him to a cheap inn outside the city. Xiu Tong tried to speak, but the detectives hit him hard on the shoulder with an iron rod and shouted, “You’ve done a good deed!” In pain, Xiu Tong cried out, “Why should I suffer like this?” The detective asked, “Where did you hide these four gold ingots you stole from the treasury? Where is your hiding place? Your master has already confirmed it, and handed you over to us. Confess quickly to avoid more pain.” Xiu Tong began to cry out in despair. Zhou Gu said, “Those with a clear conscience speak firmly; those wronged cry loudly.” In fact, Xiu Tong hadn’t stolen anything, but he was tortured by the detectives as per procedure. Unable to bear the pain, he gritted his teeth but refused to confess.

According to the laws of the Great Ming Dynasty, private torture was not allowed when capturing thieves. If the real thief was identified, the arresting officials would be rewarded. But if they refused to confess and released the suspect, the suspect could sue them the next day, accusing them of framing an innocent person, and they would face punishment themselves. The eight methods of torturing thieves—such as using a headband and iron pants—had already been tried. Yan Gong wore a headband so tight that his eyeballs bulged by about an inch. Iron pants involved placing stones inside the rods, which weren’t tightened properly, causing extreme pain. These were the most severe forms of torture for thieves. Xiu Tong put on the headband and regained consciousness several times, admitting under duress during those moments, but insisting he hadn’t done it when awake. The detectives wanted to put him in the iron pants, but Xiu Tong couldn’t endure the pain and finally confessed, “I was tempted by greed and stole them, hiding them under my brother-in-law Li Dajia’s bed. I haven’t touched them yet.”

The detectives carried Xiu Tong back to his home, gave him porridge to rest, and waited until dawn to report to Jin Lingshi. By then, Xiu Tong was barely alive, unable to move. Jin Lingshi ordered a boat and, along with the guards, went to Li Dajia’s house to search for the stolen goods. Li Dajia lived not far from Xiu Tong’s parents’ house. When the detectives arrived, Li Dajia wasn’t home either, which scared Xiu Tong’s siblings, turning their faces pale. Not knowing what was going on, they opened the back door and rushed to their parents’ house. The detectives searched Li Dajia’s bedroom, lifted the bed, and found the soil beneath loose—proving his lies. Jin Lingshi insisted on digging further, but after more than a foot of digging, nothing was found. Everyone said, “They must have gone to great lengths to create trouble here.” They searched the entire house thoroughly but found no trace of the stolen items. Jin Lingshi had no choice but to return with the detectives and question Xiu Tong again. Xiu Tong wept...

And thus he replied, “I truly was not a thief. You forced me with torture to confess. I endured suffering, but I couldn’t bear to falsely accuse others, so I had no choice but to admit it. The talk about stolen goods under my brother-in-law’s bed was pure nonsense, completely unrelated. Since I was nine years old, my father raised me until I grew up; now I’m in my twenties, and I’ve never committed any mistake at home. The other day, when I saw my father wasting his wealth on officials, I felt heartbroken. Then I saw him believe in those charlatans and spend money on them, which made me even angrier. I never expected my father to suspect me. Today, I only deserve death from my father—there’s nothing else to say.” With that, he stopped breathing. The secret guards called out to him, and only then did he wake up, continuing to cry incessantly. Judge Jin also felt deep pity for him.

After a while, Xiu Tong’s parents and brother-in-law Li Dadao arrived. Seeing Xiu Tong lying on the wooden door, severely injured and barely alive, they cried bitterly and rushed to the county office to make a fuss. The judge was sitting in court when they reported the situation. He immediately sent someone to call Jin Man over and asked, “You lost the silver from the treasury through carelessness. How could you collude with the secret guards to falsely kill thousands without proper interrogation?” Jin Man replied, “I ruined my family and the treasury, so I naturally wanted to investigate this matter thoroughly. Some people claim to be good at summoning spirits; they wrote Xiu Tong’s name three times. I also found his words suspicious, so I believed them. Apart from this slave, there’s no other culprit. I had no choice but to do this; it wasn’t intentional.” The judge realized he must have suffered greatly to compensate, but since the truth was unclear and Xiu Tong’s parents kept pleading for him, he had no choice. It was already the 18th day of the twelfth lunar month. The judge ordered, “With all the busy matters at the end of the year, let’s wait until after the New Year. After the 10th, I’ll personally interrogate you thoroughly.” Everyone dispersed, and Jin Man went home, worried that Xiu Tong might die. Xiu Tong’s parents stayed by his side, taking care of him and sending food and drinks daily. Xiu Tong’s parents continued to cry endlessly—truly as the saying goes: “Even those who travel together as tigers cannot guarantee success or failure.”

Meanwhile, the thieves learned that Xiu Tong’s family was making a fuss and became very anxious. They discussed, “Even with such torture, will he still confess? We know he won’t confess in court tomorrow. If he doesn’t confess, we’ll have to use more torture, and we’ll surely be punished.” So they offered sacrifices to the City God in the treasury, along with incense, flowers, and candles, praying every day. At night, they stayed in the treasury with Judge Jin, seeking retribution. Judge Jin wanted to embarrass them further. On New Year’s Eve, the judge inspected the treasury thoroughly and handed it over to new clerks to manage. Jin Man had been relieved of his duties, though the theft case remained unresolved. He and the other secret guards told the new clerks, “Ask Brother Zhang to stay in the treasury.” The new clerk was also from the same county and got along well with the judge, so he agreed. That night, Jin Man brought two animals, incense, and paper offerings to the treasury and presented them to the City God. He then invited the new clerk and Brother Zhang to share the food. After three drinks, the new clerk mentioned matters related to his family.

He was busy, so he asked Yangjin to take care of things for him and left first. It being a major festival night, Jinman didn’t dare to keep him around. The new warehouse clerk inspected and sealed all the kitchen cabinets, then handed the keys to the warehouse keeper, saying “Sorry for the disturbance,” before leaving. Jinman drank a few more cups, then got up and said to Brother Zhang, “Tonight is New Year’s Eve; tomorrow is the new year. Let’s drink a bit more and have some auspicious dreams. I can’t stay with you at the warehouse.” With that, he locked the warehouse door, took the keys, and went back.

Brother Zhang was locked inside by Jinman. Sighing, he said, “On this festival night, every family is together as a couple—why do I have such bad luck and have to guard their warehouse here?” Feeling depressed, he kept drinking by himself until he became thoroughly drunk and fell asleep in his clothes. At dawn, he dreamed that a deity stretched out a boot foot and kicked him awake, saying, “The silver is there. Chen Dashou put it inside a gourd on top of the kitchen cabinet.” Zhang Yinbu woke up in shock from the dream, quickly got up, and searched the top of the kitchen cabinet, but there was no gourd there. “Could it be that the deity is just teasing me? Or is it just my own delusion?” After a while, he fell back asleep. In his dream again, he heard the deity say, “The silver is inside the gourd—why don’t you get it?” Zhang Yinbu woke up in alarm, sat on the bed, and heard the drumbeats signaling dawn. He got up, pushed open the window, and saw a faint light. He looked up and down in the kitchen cabinet, but there was nothing. He wanted to report it to Jinman, but the warehouse door was locked, so he had to go back to sleep. Soon after, he heard noisy voices outside, along with drums and music—it was the county magistrate going out with other officials to pay respects at the shrine during the festival. It was almost day, and Jinman had already returned the keys to the warehouse to the new clerk. The new clerk opened the door, took out red paper stamped with the seal. Zhang Yinbu, unable to wait any longer, hurriedly put on his hat and stepped out of the warehouse. Just then, the county magistrate returned to the office. Jinman was already dressed neatly in official attire, standing with the other clerks in the hall, ready to bow. Zhang Yinbu approached him and pulled him aside to tell him about the deity in his dreams. “It happened twice—very strange. I came to report it to you. Is there anyone named Chen Dashou in the county?” After saying that, Zhang Yinbu went home without waiting for a reply.

As for Jinman, he visited the county magistrate during the day, then went to the city god shrine in the warehouse and kowtowed four times. He went home to eat but didn’t go to pay New Year’s visits. Instead, he checked names in the county records—everyone who had worked in the county, including clerks, scribes, guards, and night watchmen, was listed, but there was no one named Chen Dashou. He was busy for three whole days, not even having time to drink the usual New Year’s drinks. Angered, his face turned red and his stomach swelled. He went to complain that Zhang Yinbu was lying. Zhang Yinbu said, “It was a real dream; it must have been the deity playing tricks on me.” Jinman then remembered the incident from a few days earlier when he summoned the general, who hadn’t given him any clear answer back then. How could the words in the dream be reliable? With that, he ignored him and went back to the warehouse.

Two more days passed, and it was the fifth day of the first lunar month. According to Suzhou’s customs, on this day every household would offer sacrifices to the gods of the five directions, an activity known as “burning for prosperity.” Only after eating this special meal would people go out to do business. Jin Man was at home eating the prosperity meal when suddenly Lu Youen, a servant from next door, came to pay his New Year greetings. He said, “Congratulations, Uncle Jin! There’s prosperity wine—please let me have a bowl!” Jin Lingshi replied, “Brother, since it’s a festival, you’ve come all the way just to invite me. It’s perfect that you’re here today; let’s drink three cups.” He quickly asked his sister-in-law to warm up a pot of wine and prepare some fish and meat so they could drink together. As they chatted, Lu Youen said, “Uncle Jin, do you know anything about the thief who stole the silver?” Jin Man shook his head. “How could I?” Lu Youen continued, “If you want to find the thief, ask the secret police. If you give them a few taels of silver, they’ll track down the thief for you.” Jin Man said, “I already gave him twenty taels of silver. It’s a pity he doesn’t have the ability to steal my money.” Lu Youen asked, “What if someone finds the thief today and comes to tell you, would you still be willing to give those twenty taels?” Jin Man replied, “Of course not!” Lu Youen said, “Uncle Jin, if you really give me those twenty taels, I’ll bring the thief to you.” Jin Man said, “Good brother, if you truly do this, it will also help me resolve this case and free Xiu Tong. But you must show me concrete evidence, not just guesswork!” Lu Youen replied, “If I weren’t certain, how would I dare speak?” Jin Lingshi quickly took off his hat, took out a gold earring weighing two qian from it, and handed it to Lu Youen, saying, “This is a small token of trust. Once the stolen goods are found, not only will there be more than enough, but even if only twenty taels remain, they’ll be yours.” Lu Youen said, “I shouldn’t accept this from Uncle Jin. It’s the fifth day of the month; as brothers, we should exchange gifts for prosperity.” Lu Youen was a grown servant. He put the earring in his pocket and said, “Uncle Jin, close the door first, and I’ll explain everything in detail.” Jin Man closed the door, and the two sat close together and talked in private. Truly, it’s like searching everywhere without success, only to finally find it after much effort!

It turned out that Lu Youen lived next door to another servant named Hu Mei, who was eighteen years old. He had an older sister named Lu Zhigao. After his wife died, Lu Zhigao moved in with his brother-in-law. Hu Mei was handsome, and many people tried to flirt with him. He was a decent young servant. Since his parents died, he relied entirely on his sister for support. After his sister died, he followed his brother-in-law and began to act badly, becoming accustomed to the three things he cared about: gambling, drinking, and keeping a concubine. At the end of last year, one day when Lu Youen was out, he heard noises of chopping and sawing coming from next door. At first, he didn’t think much of it. But whenever he left, he heard loud noises coming from their house as they were closing doors. When Lu Youen returned home, the noise stopped. Until New Year’s Eve, he drank with his brother-in-law, discussing this matter, but they still didn’t know what was being chopped. Concerned, Lu Youen stayed at home for two days after the first day of the new month, listening carefully, but there was no sound. On the fourth day, he pretended to go visit relatives, standing far away and waiting until the door next door was closed before quietly...

Come back and hide at home. Hearing the sound of chiseling from next door, he peeked through the crack in the wall and saw Hu Mei and Lu Zhigao both crouched on the ground. Hu Mei held a large silver ingot, while Lu Zhigao was using an axe to break off pieces from it. Lu Menyu witnessed this and, that evening, confronted the two and asked, “Why do you often chisel at things like this?” Hu Mei blushed and remained silent. Lu Zhigao said, “Our ancestors left us a piece of good iron; we’re trying to break it into kitchen knives.” Lu Youen thought to himself, “What else could it be? Where did those two get such a valuable ingot?” He kept this to himself that night, and the next day, guessing that Jin Lingshi might be at home burning documents, he went there to report it.

After hearing this, Jin Man went with Lu Youen to look for Brother Zhang but didn’t find him. They stayed at Lu Youen’s place overnight. On the sixth day, they got up early and went to Brother Zhang’s house, bringing along Brother Four and four others. When they arrived at Hu Mei’s house, they found the door locked and no one inside. Lu Menzi called out to ask what was going on. The household member replied, “We heard yesterday that they were planning to take a boat to Hangzhou for a pilgrimage. This morning they both left. They just set sail; they aren’t far away yet. The four of us rushed after them. We just reached Sima Bridge when we saw the man on the small boat going down to buy wine and rice under the bridge. The officials often use his boat since they know each other well. Wang Liu said, ‘Mr. Jin got up really early today!’ Jin Lingshi asked, ‘Liu, why did you go early to buy wine and rice? Where are you going?’ Liu replied, ‘I’m hoping to find a ship to Hangzhou so I can have some business for a month or so.’ Jin Man tapped his shoulder and asked, ‘Who is it?’ Wang Liu whispered, ‘It’s the Hu family.’ It’s the same boat as that used by Lu’s relatives.’ Jin Man asked, ‘Are those two on the boat now?’ Liu replied, ‘The Lu family is on the boat, while Hu is still on shore waiting for his niece to arrive.’”

When Zhang Yinbu heard this, he immediately detained Gan Huaner. Liu said, “What crime have I committed?” Jin Man replied, “It’s none of your concern. Just lead me to the boat, and I’ll let you go.” Liu left the wine and rice at the shop and led the four men across the bridge, ready to capture the thieves. As the saying goes: “If you don’t study hard in your free time, regret will come too late.”

Meanwhile, Lu Zhigao was on the boat, leaning on the railing, eagerly waiting for Hu Mei to come down with his niece to enjoy themselves. But then he spotted Jin Lingshi, and seeing Wang Liu with a rope around his neck, his heart pounded. Suspecting something strange, he ignored his belongings and jumped onto the shore, running for his life. Liu pointed and said, “That man wearing the mourning headband is the Lu family member.” Everyone rushed after him, shouting, “Thief who robbed the treasury, stop running!” Lu Zhigao panicked, stumbled, and was caught by the crowd. They put a rope around his neck and asked, “Where is Hu Mei?” Lu Zhigao replied, “At my niece Liu Choujie’s house.” The crowd told Lu Zhigao to lead the way, and they all rushed to Liu Choujie’s house. Hu Mei had already heard that people were chasing thieves outside, so he had left in secret without telling his niece, and no one knew where he had gone. The crowd had no choice but to take Liu Choujie with them. They all arrived...

At Zhang Ergē’s house, after searching around Lu Zhigao and even inside his socks, they found nothing except a coin. The edges of the coin had been knocked off. Zhang Ergē wanted to take him outside the city to be tortured, but Lu Zhigao said, “If torture is used, I’ll confess right away. Last year, Hu Mei and I gambled heavily and ran out of money. Hu Mei told me, ‘There are plenty of coins in the warehouse.’ I advised him to take some for use. He took four coins during the lunar eclipse night and divided them between us. Since he didn’t dare to polish them fully, he only knocked off the edges for use. That one coin was hidden in a rice barrel, covered with some old clothes; it’s still at home. The other two are with Hu Mei.” Jin Man asked, “I didn’t close my eyes that night—how could he steal them so easily?” Lu Zhigao replied, “Hu Mei came in several times but didn’t dare act since you were sitting there. That night he sneaked in just as your servant was in the kitchen getting candles, spilling sesame oil. You got up to check, giving him the chance.” With their confession, they no longer needed to take him for torture.

At that time, Xiutong was resting at Zhang Ergē’s house, unable to move. Seeing the real thief caught, he gritted his teeth and cursed, “You wretched thief! You stole the silver but caused me so much suffering. Now I have nowhere to seek justice—I just want to bite off a piece of his flesh to vent my anger.” He tried to get up from the straw bed but couldn’t move at all. Everyone came to comfort him and persuaded him to calm down. Heartbroken, he cried softly. Jin Lingshi felt extremely sorry and also shed tears, quickly ordering someone to take him back home to recover. He then went with the others to Hu Mei’s house, unlocked it, and searched. When they poured the rice from the barrel onto the ground, a coin with no edges rolled out. That day, they took Lu Zhigao to the county magistrate. After checking the silver, the magistrate found it missing and ordered fifty lashes for Lu Zhigao before locking him up. When Hu Mei was captured, they charged him together. A warrant was issued to search for Hu Mei, with strict orders to capture him at all costs. The boatman Wang Liuer and the singing woman Liu Choujie, unaware of anything and with the stolen goods not yet recovered, were temporarily released on bail. The two coins found first should have been returned to the warehouse, but since the warehouse’s silver had already been compensated by Jin Man, they were given to Jin Man as per the rules for the original owners. With this decision, everyone in Kunshan agreed. Truly, when the state is just, the people live in peace.

Jin Lingshi took the two coins home and, at a silversmith’s shop, used a chisel to break them open. He gave 2816 taels of silver to Lu Menzi, fulfilling his earlier promise. He gave 10 taels to Zhang Ergē, promising more thanks once Hu Mei was captured. The next day, Jin Man waited for the magistrate to appear in court to express his gratitude. The magistrate, feeling pity and filled with hatred toward Hu Mei, awarded 10 taels of silver as a reward and ordered the authorities to capture Hu Mei immediately.

Half a year later, Brother Zhang Si happened to be in Shuanglin, Huzhou for some business. His boat passed through Loumen in Suzhou when he suddenly saw Hu Mei walking by the pond at Loumen. Brother Zhang Si quickly steered the boat ashore and called out, “Brother Hu, walk slowly!” Hu Mei turned around and recognized him as a detective; he hurriedly took a step forward, turned at a corner, and hid his head inside a tofu shop. Just as the tofu seller was about to make a fuss, Hu Mei pulled out a large, snow-white, shiny silver ingot from his pocket, tossed it on top of the wine jar’s lid, and said, “Let me share this silver ingot with you tonight.” Greedy for the silver, the seller quickly checked it and pointed to a place where Hu Mei could hide it.

Brother Zhang Si rushed to the corner but couldn’t find Hu Mei. A talkative idleman suggested he look inside the tofu shop. When Brother Zhang Si entered the shop, the daughter refused to let him in. He searched the entire house but still found no trace of Hu Mei. He then took out a piece of silver weighing about three or four qian and said to the old man, “This scoundrel is from Kunshan County; he stole from the government treasury. The magistrate is hunting for him. If you know what’s good for you, lead him out, and I’ll give you this silver to buy fruits. If you hide him, when the magistrate comes to arrest him, you’ll be considered an accomplice.” The old man panicked and refused to take the silver, pointing upward. “Where can he go? Neither up to heaven nor down to earth. It’s safer not to say anything.” The old man and his wife lived in just one room, making both tofu and liquor. There was hardly enough space to sleep, so they built a small platform out of wood. Just before going to bed, Hu Mei climbed up using a short ladder, only to be dragged down by Brother Zhang Si, who tied him up with rope and scolded him, “Thief! Where’s the silver?” Hu Mei replied tremblingly, “I used one ingot; the other is on top of the wine jar’s lid.” The old man dared not hide it any longer and took it out from under the floorboards. Brother Zhang Si asked the old man, “What’s your surname and name?” Fearing punishment, the old man didn’t dare answer. Someone else answered for him, “This old man’s surname is Chen, and his name is Dashou.” Brother Zhang Si nodded and left the three or four qian of silver on the old man’s counter. Then he took Hu Mei and returned to Kunshan County that very night.

As the saying goes: Don’t think dishonest acts can go unpunished—evil people will always face their own retribution!

By this time, Lu Zhigao had died in prison. The magistrate felt sorry after seeing someone die from exhaustion. Many people who had connections with Hu Mei came before Jin Man to plead for mercy, and they also asked Wang Wenying to intercede. Remembering that he had lost money due to the same incident, Jin Man had no choice but to act out of kindness in front of everyone. He told the magistrate, “Although Hu Mei stole the silver, it was he who plotted to betray his sister. Besides, not much silver was lost. I beg the magistrate to show leniency.” The magistrate shifted all the blame onto the dead man and only imposed a heavy punishment of thirty lashes on Hu Mei, considering it a minor crime. The silver ingot was returned to Jin Man. Jin Man then gave another ten taels of silver as thanks.

Brother Zhang Si. When Brother Zhang Si mentioned the old man from the wine shop, everyone was terrified. It turned out that last year, on New Year’s Eve, the City God appeared in a dream to Brother Zhang Er and instructed him, “Chen Dashou has already placed the silver inside the gourd on top of the shop.” “Gourd” refers to Hu Mei; “lu” refers to Lu Zhigao; “Chen Dashou” is the old man’s name, whom Hu Mei found atop the shop. The words of the gods are never deceptive. Indeed, those who act deceitfully will be exposed by the all-seeing eyes of the gods.

A few days later, they prepared pigs and sheep and carried them to the City God Temple to offer sacrifices in gratitude. Jin Man felt remorse for having made Xiu Tong suffer so much. After all, aside from drinking alcohol, Xiu Tong had committed no moral faults. Moreover, he was honest and loyal, dying without any regrets. There was nothing good to say in his defense. So Jin Man changed Xiu Tong’s name to Jin Xiu, using his own surname, treating him as a son. He gave him the beautiful maid Jin Xing in marriage, planning to let them become husband and wife once Jin Xiu’s health improved. Jin Xiu’s parents were both overjoyed and speechless.

Later, since Jin Man had no sons, Jin Xiu inherited the family business. Jin Xiu also obtained an official position, known as the “Young Jin Clerk.” After passing three examinations, he rose to the rank of inspector. Later generations wrote poems lamenting Jin Xiu’s injustice. One such poem reads: “Suspect those who seem useless, but don’t doubt those who seem useful. Don’t listen to opinions about right or wrong. Everything must be judged based on truth. Who knows about the injustices throughout history? Judge with your heart, and you’ll be freed from suffering soon.”

Volume 16: The Young Lady Gives Gifts of Money

Who says that past and present events cannot be understood? In truth, prosperity and decline are both illusory. It’s better to live life as it comes, rather than striving after something unattainable. Snow-like white appears at the roots of one’s brows, while the face turns red like fallen flowers. With sorrowful glances, one looks back twice; the desolate forest fills with mournful winds.

These eight lines were written by Wang Chuhou from Huayang County, Chengdu Prefecture, Sichuan Province, when he was nearly sixty years old. Looking at himself in the mirror and seeing a few white hairs, he composed these verses. All things in the world first turn white before turning black—except for one’s beard, which first turns black before turning white. There was also Lord Liu, who, upon seeing gray hair in the mirror, wrote lyrics for “The Drunken Pavilion”: “Throughout my life, I’ve enjoyed the beauty of spring, indulging in love for flowers along the paths. Though old, my heart remains young. My hair is full of gray strands, pressing against the sides of my hat. My temples are like frost, my beard like snow. I lament! How many acquaintances have inspired me to dye my hair?”

I’m advised to pluck them out. What’s the use of plucking them! Once I was young and full of life, but now I’m an middle-aged man. Let me keep some for my later years, so that they remain white.

In the regions around Tokyo, Bianzhou, and Kaifeng, there was a man in his sixties with gray hair and beard. He refused to accept old age and indulged in lust, ruining his family’s wealth and almost turning him into a ghost. What was his surname? What deeds did he commit? It goes like this: How long can dust accompany carriages and horses? Matters related to people’s hearts never truly end.

In the areas around Peizhou and Shengfeng, there was a man named Zhang Shilian who ran a business. After his mother died, he was left alone with no children. He once had a fortune of one hundred thousand, which he entrusted to two managers to handle. One day, Zhang Shilian slapped his chest and said to them, “I’m so old, with no children—what use is all this wealth?” The managers replied, “Sir, why not find a wife? Having sons and daughters will ensure the continuation of your family line.” Zhang was pleased and immediately sent for matchmakers. These two matchmakers were quite skilled at their work.

They discussed potential matches, speaking in ways that seemed perfect. In the world, the phoenix flies alone; in the universe, everything exists in solitude. They used tricks to bring together couples; they found ways to unite those who were separated. They incited the Weaving Maid to feel longing, causing her to leave the Moon Palace.

Zhang Shilian said, “Since I have no children, I ask you two to help me find a spouse.” The matchmaker didn’t say anything aloud but thought to himself, “The client is already very old—who could be a suitable match now? How should I respond?” Then the other matchmaker nudged him and said, “It’s easy.” Before leaving, he added, “I have three conditions.” After stating these three conditions, he caused Zhang Shilian to become a man of suffering, with no grave for his bones, turning him into a ghost.

The matchmaker asked, “What does the client think?” Zhang Shilian replied, “There are three things I want: first, a beautiful and virtuous partner; second, a family of similar status; third, since I have one hundred thousand in wealth, I need someone from a family with the same amount of wealth to match me.” The two matchmakers laughed inwardly but agreed superficially, saying, “All three conditions are easy to meet.” After bidding farewell, they left.

On the way, Matchmaker Zhang discussed with Matchmaker Li, “If we can arrange this marriage, there will be a reward of a hundred or so guan. But what the wealthy man said doesn’t make much sense—why would she refuse to marry a young man and instead agree to go with an old man like you? Are your white beard hairs mixed with sugar?” Matchmaker Li replied, “I have one candidate who happens to be quite suitable—excellent in appearance and from a decent family.” Matchmaker Zhang asked, “Whose daughter is it?” Matchmaker Li said, “It’s the young lady from Lord Wang’s household. When Lord Wang first married her, he doted on her greatly, but later, due to some issue, he lost his affection for her. He’s willing to give her away for free, as long as she comes from a respectable family. She brings along several tens of thousands of guan in dowry, though she might be a bit too young.” Matchmaker Zhang said, “They’re not worried about her being too young; instead, they worry about her being too old. Will Lord Zhang be satisfied with this match? After all, a woman’s heart surely won’t be happy about it. If we tell her that Lord Zhang is ten or twenty years older than he really is, the difference between the two sides will be huge.” Matchmaker Li said, “Tomorrow is an auspicious day. I’ll go to Lord Zhang’s house first to discuss the dowry, and then we can go to Lord Wang’s household and finalize everything right away.” That night, they went their separate ways without further discussion. The next day, the two matchmakers met and went together to Lord Zhang’s house, saying, “Regarding the three conditions you set aside yesterday, I’ve found a candidate who fits them perfectly! First, she’s extremely beautiful. Second, she’s from Lord Wang’s household and has a good reputation. Third, she brings a dowry of a hundred thousand guan—but I’m afraid Lord Zhang might disapprove of her being too young.” Lord Zhang asked, “How old is she?” Matchmaker Zhang replied, “She’s in her thirties or forties.” Lord Zhang smiled broadly and said, “I rely entirely on you to make this happen!”

Without further delay, both sides agreed to the arrangement. Naturally, gifts had to be given, and after all the preparations were done, the wedding took place. The next morning, they performed the three rituals before the ancestral altar. Lord Zhang wore a purple robe, a new headband, as well as new boots and socks. The young lady wore a bright red dress with gold embroidery, a golden veil, and she was truly beautiful—her brows like a new moon, her cheeks like spring peaches. Her grace was like that of a rare flower, and her skin was as smooth as fine jade. Her beauty was indescribable, and no painting could capture her charm. There was no need for clouds from the Chu Gorge to pass by—she was like someone from the Palace of Penglai!

Lord Zhang went upstairs to take a look and secretly admired her. When the young lady lifted her veil, she saw that Lord Zhang had white hair and beard, and she inwardly sighed in disappointment. After the wedding night, Lord Zhang was very pleased, but the young lady wasn’t happy.

More than a month later, someone came and said, “Today is Lord Zhang’s birthday. I’ve brought a gift for him.” It turned out that Lord Zhang’s birthday fell on the middle day of the first lunar month, and he received a gift on that day. When the young lady read the letter, tears streamed down her face. Seeing that Lord Zhang was already sixty years old, she blamed the two matchmakers for leading her astray. When she looked at Lord Zhang again, she felt even more sorrowful—her back started to ache, tears flowed from her eyes, her hearing declined, and tears came from her nose.

One day, the master said to his young wife, “I’ll be out for a while; please stay calm.” The young wife could only reply, “May you return soon.” After saying that, the master left, and she began to think to herself, “I’m alone here, with so many rooms, yet I’ve married an old man with white hair!” As she was troubled, her maid suggested, “Madam, why not go outside and watch the street for some entertainment?” Hearing this, she went outside with her maid. In front of Master Zhang’s house was a store selling rouge and velvet threads. Kitchen cabinets were placed on both sides, and in the middle there was a curtain made of purple silk. The maid hung up the curtain, and two supervisors stood by the door—one named Li Qing, in his fifties, and another named Zhang Sheng, in his thirties. When they saw the curtain being hung, they asked, “Why is that?” The maid replied, “The master has gone out to look at the street.” The two supervisors bowed before the curtain. Beneath the curtain, the young woman showed a hint of red lips and two rows of delicate features; she said few words, which caused Zhang Sheng great distress:

“As vast as a desert, it differs little from an bottomless abyss;
As heavy as mountains, it can’t compare to the endless Mount Tai.”

The young woman first asked Supervisor Li, “How many years have you worked in the master’s household?” Supervisor Li replied, “I’ve been here for over twenty years.” She asked, “Does the master usually take care of you?” He answered, “Everything I need comes from the master.” Then Supervisor Zhang spoke up, “I’ve also been in the master’s household for over twenty years, following my father. Now it’s been over ten years.” The young woman asked, “Has the master taken care of you?” Zhang replied, “All our needs—clothing and food—are provided by the master.” She said, “Wait a moment.” She went back inside and soon returned with some gifts for Supervisor Zhang, who accepted them with bowed head and thanked her. Then she said to Supervisor Zhang, “Surely he won’t give nothing to you? Though these items aren’t worth much money, they still have value.” Supervisor Zhang accepted them as well and thanked her with a bow. After taking another look, she left. The two supervisors went back to their work at the store. Supervisor Li received ten silver coins, while Supervisor Zhang received ten gold coins. At that time, neither knew what the other had received—Li didn’t know it was silver, and Zhang didn’t know it was gold. By evening, the sky grew dark, and one could see: mist surrounding the fields, birds returning to their nests, a beautiful woman returning to her room by candlelight, and travelers seeking shelter in inns along the road. Fishermen carried fish back along the bamboo paths, while shepherd boys rode their donkeys toward lonely villages.

That night, they settled the accounts of the store, presenting the records to Master Zhang—how many yards were sold, how much money was earned or owed, all carefully recorded. The two supervisors took turns working at the store each day, and it was Supervisor Zhang’s turn to stay overnight. Outside, in a small room, a lamp was lit. Supervisor Zhang sat idle for half...

By noon, arrangements were made for a place to stay, when suddenly someone was heard knocking at the door. Manager Zhang heard this and asked, “Who is it?” The reply was, “Open the door; I’ll tell you!” Manager Zhang opened the door of the shop, and the person rushed in, quickly hiding behind the light. When Manager Zhang looked closely, it was a woman. He was surprised and hurriedly said, “Young lady, what brings you here at this hour?” The woman replied, “I didn’t come on my own initiative; I was sent here by someone who instructed me to bring this.” Manager Zhang said, “Did the young lady give you ten coins of gold to ask you to retrieve this?” The woman said, “You don’t understand. Manager Feng received silver. Now the young lady has asked me to give you something else.” She took out a bundle of clothes from her back and opened it, saying, “These few pieces are for you to wear, and there are also some women’s clothes for your mother.” After leaving the clothes, she bid farewell and went out, then turned back and said, “I forgot one more important thing.” She took out a bar of silver worth fifty taels from her sleeve, removing the wrapping. That night, Zhang Sheng received many things for no reason, and he couldn’t sleep all night.

The next morning, Manager Zhang opened the shop and continued his business as usual. When Manager Li arrived, he handed over the shop to him, and Zhang Sheng returned home to show his mother the clothes and silver. His mother asked, “Where did you get these things?” Manager Zhang told her everything that had happened that night. His mother-in-law listened and said, “Child, the young lady gave you gold and clothes and silver—what does that mean? I’m already over sixty years old. Since your father passed away, I’ve only had my eyes set on you. If something happens to you, who will I rely on? Don’t go to the shop tomorrow.” Manager Zhang was a responsible person and very filial. Hearing his mother’s words, he didn’t go to the shop. When Master Zhang saw that he hadn’t shown up, he sent someone to call him, asking, “Why hasn’t the manager come?” His mother-in-law replied, “My child has caught a cold. We’re not feeling well these days and can’t come. Please convey this to Master Zhang; he’ll surely come.” A few days later, when Manager Li saw that he still hadn’t come, he went to call him himself, saying, “Why hasn’t Manager Zhang come? There’s no one to help in the shop. My wife just says she’s not feeling well, and it’s gotten worse these past two days. Manager Li left on his own. Master Zhang sent people to call him several times, but the mother kept saying she wasn’t well enough. After sending people to call him three or five times with no response, Master Zhang guessed, “He must have other plans.” Zhang Sheng stayed at home.

Time passed swiftly, like days and months flying by. In the blink of an eye, more than a month had gone by at home. As the saying goes, “Sitting around leads to ruin.” Although he had received many things from the young lady, he dared not spend that bar of silver easily, and the clothes couldn’t be sold either. Without working, his money ran out over time. He then asked his mother, “Should I go to Master Zhang’s house? With nothing to do now, how can we make ends meet at home?” Hearing this, his mother-in-law pointed at the ceiling and said, “Child, do you see…”

It was gone? When Zhang Sheng looked, he saw a bag hanging from the roof beam; he took it down. He said, “Your grandfather raised you to such a size—this must be the thing you’re looking for.” When he opened the paper bag, it contained a flower-patterned ribbon. His mother-in-law said, “For now, follow this path and learn your father’s trade by selling some silk and yarn.”

That day happened to be the Lantern Festival. Zhang Sheng said, “Tonight is the Lantern Festival, and there are lanterns displayed at Duanmen.” He immediately asked his mother, “I want to go see the lanterns.” His mother replied, “Child, you haven’t pursued this path for a long time. If you go to Duanmen now and pass by Master Zhang’s house, you’ll only cause trouble.” Zhang Sheng said, “Everyone goes to see the lanterns. It says, ‘The lanterns are beautiful this year.’ I’ll go and come back right away; I’ll just pass by Master Zhang’s house.” His mother said, “It’s fine if you want to see the lanterns, but it’s not good if you go alone. It’s better to go with someone you know as company.” Zhang Sheng said, “I’ll go with Brother Wang Er.” His mother said, “It’s fine if you two go together. First, don’t drink alcohol! Second, go and return together.” After giving those instructions, the two went to Duanmen to see the lanterns. Just then, imperial wine was being distributed and gold coins were thrown into the air—it was very lively. Brother Wang Er said, “It’s not worth seeing the lanterns here. We’re small and weak; why should we get into trouble? Let’s go somewhere else where there’s also a turtle mountain made of decorations.” Zhang Sheng asked, “Where is that?” Brother Wang Er replied, “Don’t you know? In Minister Wang’s residence, there’s a small turtle mountain made of decorations, and lanterns are displayed there too tonight.”

The two turned around and went back, arriving at Minister Wang’s residence. It was just as lively as at Duanmen. They met Brother Wang Er in front of the gate. Zhang Sheng cried out in distress, “How did we end up back here? Before leaving, my mother told us to go and return together. How can we meet Brother Wang Er now? If I get back first, my mother won’t worry. But if Brother Wang Er gets back first, she’ll surely think I’ve gone somewhere else.” That night, he couldn’t see the lanterns and wandered around alone. Suddenly, he remembered, “Ahead is the house of my former master, Master Zhang. Every Lantern Festival, he closes his shop and sets up many lantern decorations. I guess he still hasn’t taken down the lanterns yet.” He continued walking until he reached Master Zhang’s door. To his surprise, the door was open. Two bamboo poles crossed each other, with a bowl filled with floating lanterns tied to them beneath them. There was also a notice posted on the door. Zhang Sheng was stunned, unable to speak or move. He stepped under the light of the lanterns and read what was written on the notice: “The Left Military Inspector of Kaifeng Prefecture has found that the commoner Zhang Shilian has violated…” He had only read the word “violated” when suddenly he didn’t know what crime he had committed. Then he heard someone shout from below the lantern, “How dare you come here and look around!” Zhang Sheng was terrified and quickly tried to leave. But the man chased after him, shouting, “Who are you? How bold! Why are you asking questions and looking at this notice at night?” Zhang Sheng ran away.

Gradually, they reached the end of the alley, about to turn back. After two more hours, they saw a bright moon shining high in the sky. As they walked on, someone rushed up from behind and called out, “Manager Zhang, someone is asking for you.” When Manager Zhang looked, it was a wine merchant. Zhang Sheng said, “It must be Brother Gong waiting for me at the alley entrance with some wine for us to drink on our way back; that would be great.” He followed the wine merchant into the shop, up the stairs, to a pavilion. The wine merchant said, “It’s here.” When the curtain was lifted, Manager Zhang saw a woman dressed in disheveled clothes with messy hair. It was as if her hair was like untidy clouds, reflecting her longing for past splendor; tears of sorrow streamed down, recalling her former wealth and status. On an autumn night, the moon was covered by clouds, and peony flowers were buried under soil.

The woman said, “Manager Zhang, it’s me who invited you.” Manager Zhang took a look; though her face seemed familiar, he couldn’t recall her. The woman asked, “How can Manager Zhang not recognize me? I am the young lady.” Manager Zhang replied, “How can the young lady be here?” She said, “It’s hard to explain!” Zhang Sheng asked, “What happened to you, madam?” She replied, “I shouldn’t have trusted the matchmaker. I married Mr. Zhang, but he was arrested for forging fake silver and taken to the left military tribunal. To this day, no one knows where he is. All my family assets and properties were seized. Now I have nowhere to go, so I’ve come to seek refuge with you. Please remember how I used to be and let me stay in your house for a while.” Zhang Sheng said, “That’s not possible! First, my mother is very strict, and second, there’s the saying, ‘Don’t wear shoes in a melon field, don’t tidy your hat under a plum tree.’ I definitely can’t allow you to stay in my house.” Hearing this, she said, “You’re using common sayings—‘It’s easy to call a snake, but hard to send it away.’ I’ll show you…” She took something out of her bosom: Only when the bell rings does one realize the temple is hidden in the mountains; only by the shore does one know water separates the villages. She showed a string of 108 Western pearls, each as big as a chicken egg, shining brightly. Zhang Sheng exclaimed in awe, “I’ve never seen such a precious treasure!” She said, “All my assets were seized by the authorities, but I managed to hide this. If you’ll let me stay in your house, you can sell these pearls one by one to make a living.” Hearing this, Manager Zhang thought to himself:

Returning home, I worry only of the setting sun;
I fear the journey will be slow.
With wealth, beauty, songs, and wine,
Who could resist such temptations?

That day, Zhang Sheng said, “If the young lady wants to stay in my house, it depends on whether my mother agrees.” She replied, “I’ll go ask your mother with you; I’ll wait for your reply across the street.” Zhang Sheng returned home and told his mother everything that had happened. His mother, an kind-hearted old woman, heard of her misfortune and cried out, “How sad! Where is the young lady?” Zhang Sheng replied, “She’s right across the street.”

“Wait,” said the mother-in-law. “Let’s meet! After the greeting, the young lady repeated in detail what she had said earlier: ‘Now that I have no relatives to turn to, I’ve come to see you, mother-in-law, hoping you’ll allow me to stay!’ Hearing this, the mother-in-law said, ‘It’s fine for you to stay for a few days, but I’m afraid we’re too poor to provide proper care; you’d better go seek help from other relatives.’ The young lady then took out a rosary from her bosom and gave it to her mother-in-law. Under the light of the lamp, the mother-in-law saw it and decided to let the young lady stay at home. The young lady said, ‘Someday I’ll cut some of these beads to sell and open a shop selling rouge and silk threads, with flower decorations hung in front as a sign.’ Zhang Sheng said, ‘With such a precious item, selling it casually would only bring a little money. Besides, there’s still fifty taels of silver untouched—perfect for buying goods.’ Since Zhang Sheng had been handling business for Master Zhang at the sweatshop, people called him ‘Young Master Zhang’. The young lady kept trying to approach Zhang Sheng, but he remained firm as iron, treating her merely as his masteress and showing no interest in anything else.”

It was the Qingming Festival at that time. How could one not see the scenes everywhere? In the suburbs, a gentle breeze carried paper money. People laughed and sang on the fragrant grasslands; the weather was sometimes sunny, sometimes rainy, with apricot blossoms in bloom. On the crabapple branches, birds chirped softly; by the willow banks, people slept in drunken stupor. Beautiful women competed to paint on boards, while colorful threads swayed as they tried to imitate immortals.

Everyone in the city went out to enjoy themselves at Jinming Pool, and Young Master Zhang also went out. (When he returned in the evening and tried to enter Wansheng Gate, he heard someone calling out, ‘Manager Zhang!’ At that moment, Zhang Sheng thought to himself, ‘Now everyone calls me Young Master Zhang, but when they refer to me as the manager of the factory, it’s actually Master Zhang.’ Zhang Sheng saw that Master Zhang had four characters engraved on his face in gold, his hair disheveled, his clothes untidy. He immediately entered the inn and sat down in a quiet corner. Zhang Sheng asked, ‘Why are you in such a sorry state?’ Master Zhang replied, ‘I’ve fallen into this predicament because of a marriage arrangement! The young lady originally came from Tuzhaoxuanfu. On the first day of this year, she was looking out from behind a curtain at the street. A boy carrying a box passed by, and she called him over and asked, “Is there anything new in the mansion?” The boy replied, “There’s nothing special, but a few days ago, Wang Zhaoxuan lost a string of 108 Western pearls. Everyone involved is being blamed.” Hearing this, her face turned either blue or red. The boy left. Soon after, about twenty men came to my house and took away all my belongings as well as hers. They arrested me and took me to the military prison to be interrogated about those 108 pearls. I had never seen them, so I said I didn’t have them. They beat me mercilessly and locked me up in jail. It was only because the young lady committed suicide in her room that the case wasn’t resolved and I wasn’t executed. To this day, the whereabouts of those 108 pearls are unknown.’ Hearing this, Zhang Sheng thought to himself, ‘The young lady is in my house, and the pearls are also in my house—I should have cut them and sold them long ago.’ He was very anxious. He offered Master Zhang some food and drink before saying goodbye.)

On his way back, Zhang Sheng thought to himself, “How truly deceiving!” When he returned home and saw the young lady, he stepped back one step at a time and said, “Madam, please spare Zhang Sheng’s life!” The young lady asked, “Why does he say that?” Zhang Sheng repeated what Master Zhang had said earlier. Hearing this, the young lady said, “It makes sense. Look at the seams in my clothes; each sound is louder than the last. How could you ignore this? He says I’m here with you, so he deliberately says such things to make you not keep me.” Zhang Sheng replied, “You’re right too.” A few days later, someone called out from outside, “Someone is looking for the young master!” Zhang Sheng went out to greet them—it was Master Zhang. Zhang Sheng thought to himself, “Since the young lady sent me out to meet them, whether they’re human or ghosts, it will become clear soon.” He asked the maid to bring out the young lady. But when the maid went, she couldn’t find her anywhere—the young lady had disappeared. Realizing then that the young lady was indeed a ghost, the young master told Master Zhang everything that had happened. He asked, “Where is that string of beads?” Zhang Sheng went to his room and brought it out. Master Zhang ordered Zhang Sheng to go with him to Wang Zhaoxuan’s office, hand over the beads, cut off a few of them, and use the money to settle the debt. Wang Zhaoxuan then pardoned Zhang Shilian’s crimes, returned his belongings, and allowed him to reopen his rouge and velvet thread shop. Master Zhang also invited a Taoist priest from Tianqing Temple to perform a ritual in honor of the young lady. It was because the young lady had deep feelings for Zhang Sheng during her lifetime, and even after her death she continued to follow him. Thanks to Zhang Sheng’s sincere heart, which never wavered, he avoided suffering and remained unharmed. Nowadays, many are tempted by wealth and lust, but those like Zhang Sheng are rare as one in ten thousand. There is a poem that praises this:

Who isn’t greedy for wealth or fond of lust? It’s hard to corrupt a person of pure heart, either in success or failure. If one can be like Supervisor Zhang in youth, neither ghosts nor humans can harm them.

Chapter Seventeen: The Humble Scholar Achieves Success Suddenly

Sorrow lingers in the kiln; the sound of books weighs on the scholar’s shoulders. Those who fail in life are looked down upon, yet those who enter glory rejoice. Though the sun may sometimes be obscured, the Yellow River remains clear. Clouds in the eyes cannot be trusted—firmly hold onto your footing.

This poem, “Xijiang Yue,” generally suggests that fortune and misfortune come in cycles. One should not boast about one’s abilities due to temporary success, nor should one lose heart due to failure. During the Ganlu era of the Tang Dynasty, there was a prime minister named Wang Ya, who held the highest rank, wielded great power over all officials, had countless servants, and spent tens of thousands of coins daily—his wealth and glory were beyond description. His kitchen was adjacent to a Buddhist temple. Every day, the water used to wash pots and bowls flowed into the ditch, and that water flowed out from the temple. One day, an old monk going out happened to see white particles in the ditch—some as big as snowflakes, others as small as jade shards. Upon closer inspection, they turned out to be pieces of white rice, washed away from the pots and bowls in Prime Minister Wang’s kitchen. The old monk clasped his hands and said, “Amitabha Buddha, what a sin, what a sin!”

A poem as an introduction:
In spring we plow, in summer we weed,
Each grain requires hard work and effort;
In spring, fine chaff is discarded like shattered jade,
And when cooked, it becomes fragrant rice like piles of silver.
With full meals three times a day, there’s no other worry,
But even a single bite can relieve poverty.
It’s sad to see the mess in the ditches;
Pity those who suffer poverty in the world!

After the elder finished reciting his poem, he called for workers to scoop up the leftover food from the ditches, wash it clean in fresh water, spread it out on sieves, and dry it in the sun for a thousand days. It was then stored in ceramic jars, to be seen when the jars would be filled. After three or four months, the jars were full. Within two years, more than six large jars had been filled.

Prime Minister Wang Ya thought he would enjoy wealth for a thousand years and luxury for generations. Who knew that extreme joy brings sorrow? One day he offended the court, and his fate was uncertain—whether he would live or die. By then, all his guests had left, his servants had fled, and his granaries were seized by his enemies. Of Prime Minister Wang’s twenty-three family members, ten died of hunger. Their cries of pain could be heard from the neighboring temple. The elder, hearing this, felt compassion. Though separated by just a wall, unless they dug a tunnel through it, there was no way to help them. The elder softened the dried food stored in the jars, steamed it, and gave it to them. Prime Minister Wang found it delicious. He sent a maid to ask the old monk why a monk, who lived a monastic life, had such fine food. The monk replied, “This isn’t ordinary food for a monk. It’s leftover food from washing pots and dishes in the palace, which ended up in the ditches. I thought it was useful, so I didn’t throw it away. I washed it clean with fresh water and dried it in the sun for use during lean times by the poor. Who would have thought it would help your household in such a crisis? Truly, every bite and sip is predestined.” Hearing this, Prime Minister Wang sighed, “I’ve wasted resources like this all my life—how could I not fail? This disaster is inevitable.” That night, he died from poison. How could he have known such a day would come during his times of wealth! As the saying goes: The poor always long for wealth, while the wealthy face danger. This is the result of excessive fortune bringing misfortune—self-inflicted blame. If people are poor now, how can they know they might become wealthy someday? Even in times of glory, who believes in future hardships? Now, let me tell another story about suffering first and happiness later. Dear listeners, if among you are those like Han Xin who endured humiliation, or Su Qin who overcame great difficulties, listen to this tale and hold your heads high, waiting for the right time—never lose heart first. Here are four lines of poetry:
The autumn wind and withered grass will surely meet spring,
Even a cricket in the mud will stretch its limbs.
Don’t laugh at those who try to paint tigers—they’ll surprise you once their fangs and claws are ready.

During the Tianshun era of our dynasty, in Yuelu County of Fujian Province, there was a eunuch family surnamed Ma, named Wanqun, who held the position of Censor in the Ministry of Personnel. Because he criticized eunuch Wang Zhen for abusing power and ruining the country, he was stripped of his status and became a commoner. His wife...

Ma Deqing had only one son, named Ma Ren, with the courtesy name Decheng. At the age of twelve, he showed great intelligence and was well-versed in knowledge. His intelligence was comparable to Yan Ziyuan’s ability to understand ten things after hearing just one; his knowledge was like Yu Shinan’s vast storehouse of learning. His writings were truly outstanding, and his reputation was beyond compare. Ma Deqing cherished him as precious as gold and jade, always speaking highly of him. Among the wealthy young men, some did so because he was a nobleman from a distinguished family, and others because they believed his talent would lead to rapid success, so they all rushed to flatter him. Two of them flattered him especially earnestly—truly going to great lengths.

They offered warmth in cold times and busied themselves when there was nothing to do. They called each other brothers whenever they met, sharing expenses without hesitation. If they happened to mention the fine wine in a shop, they would invite him to drink three cups. If they praised the beauty of a prostitute, they would even pay for her services for a month. They acted as if their hands still carried the scent of her touch, and they stepped carefully so as not to tread on spit. Their jokes and playful taunts were endless; it seemed only a wife and children were missing from their efforts to please him. One was named Huang Sheng, nicknamed Huang Bingwan; the other was Gu Xiang, nicknamed Feitian Paozhang. Both of their ancestors had served as officials, and though they were wealthy, they only pretended to be learned. They treated Ma Decheng like a great bodhisattva, hoping to benefit from his future wealth and status. Ma Decheng, being an honest and upright man, returned their courtesy, and seeing their sincerity, he became friends with them. Huang Sheng then proposed to give his younger sister, Liu Fan, in marriage to Ma Decheng. Hearing that she was both beautiful and intelligent, Ma Decheng was overjoyed. But since childhood he had made a vow: if he wanted to enjoy his wedding night, he must first achieve success through exams. Seeing his lofty aspirations, Ma Deqing did not press him, so by the time he turned twenty, he had not yet married.

During the annual examinations, one day Huang Sheng and Gu Xiang invited Ma Decheng to a bookstore to buy books. Next to the bookstore was a fortune-telling shop with a sign that read, “To know whether your fate is good or bad, consult Zhang Tiekou!” Ma Decheng said, “Since his name is ‘Tiekou,’ he will surely speak frankly.” After buying the books, they went next door and bowed to Mr. Zhang, saying, “I am a humble student seeking your guidance.” The man examined his birth dates, calculated the interactions between the five elements, and analyzed the strengths and weaknesses of the five stars. Then he said, “If you don’t mind my blunt words, sir…” Ma Decheng replied, “You tell me about misfortunes and blessings—why hide anything?” Huang Sheng and Gu Xiang, who were nearby, feared the man might say something offensive. Huang Sheng said, “Please be careful what you say!” Gu Xiang added, “This man is a famous scholar in our county. Just look at how well he did in this exam—wasn’t he the top scorer?” The man replied, “I’m simply stating what logic dictates. I’m not sure if it’s correct. Your fate indicates ‘talent leading to prosperity.’ With a father of high status, you should be born into an aristocratic family.” Huang Sheng and Gu Xiang laughed heartily and said, “That’s exactly right!” The man continued, “In terms of your destiny, it shows ‘fate tied to greatness,’ meaning your writings will be outstanding.” They laughed again and said, “Great! You’re very accurate!” The man added, “It’s unfortunate that at the age of twenty-two, you’ll face many obstacles in your career, causing minor troubles. Not only could it lead to financial ruin, but it might also put your life at risk. If you survive until twenty-one, you’ll have another fifty years of success. But even then, it may seem impossible to overcome even the smallest hurdles.”

When he won, Mi Dao cursed and said, “Nonsense! There’s no such thing!” Gu Xiang stepped forward with his fist and said, “Hit him, you bastard, and break his iron teeth.” Ma Decheng raised both hands to stop them, saying, “The principles of fate are subtle; it’s enough to say he can’t predict accurately—there’s no need to argue over it.” Huang and Gu kept speaking rudely, but Ma Decheng persuaded them fiercely. The man simply wanted nothing to happen and didn’t even want his fortune-telling fees anymore. After all, advice is welcomed by all, but blunt words are disliked by everyone.

At that time, even Ma Decheng thought he could easily achieve success through his own efforts. Though he didn’t blame the man too much, he also didn’t believe him. Who would have thought that after three attempts, his name wasn’t on the list? From the age of fifteen when he first took the exams until now at twenty-one, he hadn’t passed any of the three rounds. If it were just a matter of age, it wouldn’t be a problem, but repeated attempts seemed to work against him. Another year passed, and he was just twenty-two. One of Ma Decheng’s students filed a complaint against Wang Zhen. Wang Zhen suspected the mastermind behind this and, carrying over old grudges, secretly convinced key officials in the court to investigate Ma Wanqun’s past crimes as an official, accusing him of embezzlement and ordering his arrest. Ma Wanqun was originally an honest official; upon hearing this news, he fell ill and died within days. Ma Decheng showed great sorrow and loyalty, but the officials, seeking to please their superiors, forced him to pay ten thousand taels as compensation. At that point, he had no choice but to sell his property. As for items subject to taxes, the officials simply appraised them and sold them off. He only managed to keep a small farm that hadn’t yet been taxed, unknown to the authorities. Relying on Gu Xiang, who had been his close friend in the past, Ma Decheng asked him to temporarily assume ownership of his family’s assets. He also sent antiques and books worth several hundred taels to Huang Sheng’s house. Yet the officials sold off all of Ma Decheng’s family’s land and property, still falling short of the required amount, and kept finding faults. Ma Decheng stayed temporarily in a tomb-like house. One day, Gu Xiang sent someone to tell him that the authorities already knew about the remaining farms—he couldn’t hide them any longer. With no other choice, Ma Decheng had to surrender. Later, he heard that it was actually Gu Xiang who reported him, either out of fear of future consequences or to gain the favor of the officials. Ma Decheng understood how fickle human nature was and simply smiled. Over a year later, Ma Decheng went to Huang Sheng’s house to retrieve the items he had left there. He visited several times, but no one would meet him, nor did they send him a letter. When he opened it, there was no letter inside—only an account sheet. It listed various expenses for certain dates, specifying which ones should be covered jointly and which alone. This happened more than once. After deducting the value of the antiques and books, not a single item was returned. Angered, Ma Decheng tore up the account sheet in front of the messenger and cursed loudly, “Such despicable scoundrels! Never meet them again!” From then on, their relationship ended completely. Huang Sheng was glad to cut ties with the Ma family, exactly as he wished. This matched the four lines from Lord Feng of the Western Han Dynasty: “Only through difference in status can true friendship be seen; only through life and death can true bonds be revealed.”

Ma Decheng stayed in the tomb-like house observing mourning, wearing tattered clothes and struggling to make ends meet. When his father was alive, he had helped others, but now that he was in trouble, who would help him?

Decheng refused to sell the trees on the grave. Old Wang pointed to several large cypress trees by the road and said, “These trees aren’t nearby; selling them won’t bring much profit.” Decheng agreed, set a price, and had one tree cut down. The inside was already hollowed out by insects, so it was worth nothing. Another tree was cut down, with the same result. Decheng sighed, “This is fate!” and ordered them to stop. Those two trees could only be used as firewood, yielding little money, which would run out in just a couple of days. All that remained was a 12-year-old servant from his own household. He asked Old Wang to sell him as well, for five taels of silver. After that servant left, he began having nightmares every night. His master didn’t want him anymore and returned him to Old Wang, demanding the original price. Decheng had no choice but to reduce the price by two taels out of kindness before selling him. Strangely enough, he no longer had nightmares after that. Those nightmares were clearly meant to get those two taels back from Decheng.

Time flew by, and soon his term of service ended. Decheng was extremely poor and had nowhere to turn to. He remembered that a cousin of his served as an official in Hangzhou Prefecture, Zhejiang, and that the county magistrate of Deqing County was also a student of his father. He thought it might be better to go seek help from them; perhaps they could offer some assistance. He burned some of his belongings and entrusted Old Wang to sell them to raise money for the journey. He washed his old clothes, packed them up, and set off on foot toward Hangzhou. But ten days earlier, his cousin had passed away. When he arrived in Deqing County and went to see the county magistrate, it happened that the magistrate was arguing with his superiors over financial matters and had decided to retire due to illness, leaving no way to get in touch. It was truly as if misfortune kept coming one after another.

With no place to turn to, Decheng thought that there must be many officials in Nanjing. He took a boat to Jingkou, intending to cross the river, but strong west winds made it impossible for the boat to move forward. He had no choice but to walk all the way to the capital. There were several city gates in the capital: Shence, Jinchuan, Yifeng, Huaiyuan, Qiling, Shicheng, Sanshan, Jubao, Liantongji, Hongwu, Chaoyang, and Taiping.

Ma Decheng entered the city through Tongji Gate and stayed at an inn for the night. The next day, he went to various government offices to inquire. In previous years, there had been many officials from his province, but now those who had been promoted had done so, those who had changed positions had done so, those who had died had died, and those who had fallen on hard times had continued to struggle. He came with high hopes but couldn’t return with them fulfilled. He stayed there for over half a year, using up all his money. Even though he tried to beg for food from Doctor Wu in Wumen, he eventually had to go to the Lu Mengzheng Monastery to ask for alms. One day, while seeking alms at Da Baoen Temple, he met someone he knew. He asked about the situation back home. He then learned that the provincial authorities were conducting annual examinations, and since Decheng hadn’t given any gifts to the teachers during his previous term, he hadn’t received any correspondence or permission to continue studying elsewhere. He hadn’t realized he had been away for so long. Now, with no communication, the authorities had dismissed him from the examination. From afar, there was no way to appeal. It was truly as if misfortune kept piling up: “The roof leaks, and then it rains all night; the boat is delayed, and then a headwind hits.”

When Decheng heard this news, he sighed deeply several times, too ashamed to face anyone. He wanted to find a place to stay temporarily so as to earn a living by teaching, and then figure out what to do next. Yet people were shallow-minded and unable to distinguish right from wrong. Hearing that this young man had such an appearance, they assumed he must be a dissolute fellow. Even if someone had kind intentions, who would believe him or invite him? Some time passed, and the monks began to resent him for his arrogance and rude behavior—things too many to mention here. Fortunately, there is always a way out for those in trouble. A supply officer named Zhao needed someone to accompany him to Beijing, both to keep company and to write letters on his behalf. He discussed this with the abbot of Chengen Temple. When Decheng heard about it, he thought, “This is a chance to go to Beijing—it could be very convenient.” So he asked the monk to arrange it. The secular monk was eager to get rid of that poor wretch, so he praised Decheng’s merits in front of Zhao, emphasizing his qualifications. Zhao was a military officer who didn’t care much about details; as long as it saved money, he agreed to meet Decheng at the temple and arrange for him to join them on the ship later. Decheng was eloquent, and the two got along well. The next day, they arrived at the Yellow River bank. Decheng stepped ashore by chance. Suddenly, there was a loud noise, as if the heavens and earth were splitting apart. He quickly got up to see what was happening and was shocked to find that the riverbank had collapsed. Zhao’s supply ships were scattered everywhere, with no trace of them. All he could see was the raging waters stretching as far as the eye could see.

Decheng looked around helplessly, cried to the sky, and lamented, “This is heaven ending my life! It’s better to die!” Just as he was about to jump into the river, an old man saved him and asked about his background. After Decheng explained his situation, the old man felt pity for him and said, “You’re young and handsome—surely you’ll have a chance to succeed in the future. It’s not far to Beijing, and the expenses aren’t high. I have a few silver coins with me; take them as a start!” He reached into his sleeve, but found nothing. Exclaiming “Strange!”, he took a closer look and saw a small hole at the bottom of the sleeve—someone must have cut it earlier while he was out. The old man sighed and said, “The ancients said, ‘If fate favors you, it’s your time of luck.’ Even if you’re willing, there’s still a set time for everything. It’s not that I’m stingy; it’s simply that your fate isn’t favorable. I’d like to invite you to my home, but I’m afraid the distance is too great.” Instead, he took Decheng to the city center and borrowed five coins from a familiar merchant to give to him. Decheng was deeply grateful and accepted them, thanking him repeatedly before parting.

Decheng thought about how those five coins wouldn’t be enough for such a long journey. He came up with a plan: he bought paper and pen and started selling his writings along the way. Decheng was good at writing, but unfortunately, his luck wasn’t on his side, and he couldn’t gain the appreciation of scholars or literati. All he could get were a few pennies from local shops and inns—people there knew nothing about quality and weren’t willing to pay much. Decheng ate irregularly, sometimes hungry and sometimes full, until he finally reached Beijing and checked into an inn. The innkeeper suggested he seek help from some important officials. There were two kind-hearted men: one was Deputy Minister You of the Ministry of War, and the other was Cao Guanglu, a high-ranking official. Decheng wrote his name card and went to see Lord Cao first. When Lord Cao saw his disheveled clothes, he felt...

Delighted, and knowing he was Wang Zhen’s enemy, he dared not resist. After sending off Xiao Chengyi, he took his leave. When he went to see Minister You, that man was also unhelpful; offering nothing of his own, he wrote a letter recommending Decheng to General Lu stationed at the border. The innkeeper, seeing this letter, thought there might be opportunities, so he lent Decheng five taels of silver as funds. Who would have known that the northern barbarians led by Esen were causing havoc, plundering people and livestock? General Lu missed his chance and was brought back to the capital to face punishment; even Minister You was dismissed from office. Decheng had served in the frontier regions for thirty or forty months with no success, so he returned to the capital and stayed in an inn.

The innkeeper, unable to recover the five taels of silver, still owed money for rent and food. He couldn’t simply throw Decheng out, so he came up with an idea. In the alley ahead lived Captain Liu, whose eight-year-old son needed a tutor. Captain Liu highly praised Decheng and offered twenty taels as a gift. The innkeeper kept one season’s worth of the payment for himself and approved the loan amount. Captain Liu was very generous, giving Decheng a set of new clothes and inviting him to live at his place. From then on, despite lacking food and other necessities, Decheng spent his time studying classics and literature again. Just three months later, the student developed smallpox. Although the doctor prescribed medicine that worked, the child died twelve days later. Captain Liu, who had only this one son, was in deep grief. Then some malicious people told him, “Ma Decheng is an omen of disaster, a calamitous figure who brings misfortune wherever he goes. Commander Zhao invited him, and his grain ships were ruined; Minister You recommended him, and he lost his position. He’s an inauspicious scholar—don’t get close to him.” Captain Liu didn’t think his son’s fate was determined by destiny, yet he blamed the teacher for bringing misfortune.

Rumors spread throughout the city, giving him a strange nickname: “The Dull Scholar.” Whenever the Dull Scholar passed by in the streets, everyone closed their doors. Those who encountered him early in the day had bad luck—traders suffered losses, those searching for people failed, those filing lawsuits lost, and debt collectors ended up in fights or arguments. Even schoolchildren were beaten by their teachers when they met him. Because of these things, he was regarded as a monster. If they happened to meet on a narrow road, people would spit at him and chant something auspicious before passing by. Poor Ma Decheng, though well-educated and decent, now faced hunger by day and no shelter at night due to his bad luck. At that time, there was a scholar from Zhejiang named Wu, who was very stubborn. Having heard of the Dull Scholar’s reputation, he believed it to be true and went out of his way to meet him. He invited him to his residence and showed great interest in his knowledge. Before they could sit down properly, Wu received word that his father had died at home, so he left in a hurry. He then recommended Decheng to Lu Hongtong. Lu invited him to his house and treated him generously. But just as they were about to start eating, a fire broke out in the kitchen, causing panic and everyone to flee. Decheng, hungry, walked a few steps before being captured by the authorities and taken to court. Luckily, Lu Hongtong was a righteous man who paid to spare him from being shackled. From then on, the Dull Scholar...

That bitch, though her fame was well-known and no one would hire her, still made a living by selling her calligraphy. She was accustomed to writing letters and birthday scrolls for families, and enjoyed composing Spring Festival couplets. At night, she would often stay at temples such as the Ancestor Temple, Guan Sheng Temple, and Wu Xian Temple. Sometimes she would write prefaces on behalf of Taoist priests, earning a few coins to get by.

Now, let’s shift to another story. Huang Sheng, that wretched scoundrel, after Ma Decheng left, initially hoped he would return to his hometown. But when the master dismissed him, he didn’t go home. Someone later sent word that he had followed Commander Zhao on a grain ship to the capital to repair the breaches in the Yellow River, and had since disappeared. Unconcerned, he pressed his sister, Sixth Aunt, to remarry. Sixth Aunt swore by death that she would never marry again. By the late Tianshun era, Huang Sheng bribed officials to secure a place on the imperial examination list; those who flattered him flocked around him. Hearing that Sixth Aunt was still unmarried, suitors came to her door day after day, but she firmly refused, leaving Huang Sheng helpless. In winter, he packed his bags and went to the capital to take the exams. When Ma Decheng saw the exam results and knew Huang Sheng would succeed and surely come to the capital, recalling his old grudges, he was too ashamed to meet him and fled ahead.

Yet Huang Sheng was obsessed with fame and status. If it were achieved through his own efforts, he would have accepted it calmly. But since he had bought his position as a scholar, he reveled in it like a villain using a gentleman’s tools. He spent fifty taels of silver to obtain a permit and rushed to the capital, finding a fine residence where he could study the classics. He spent his days strolling through flower-lined streets and willow-lined alleys, indulging in pleasure at his relatives’ homes. As the saying goes, “Excess of joy brings sorrow,” and he ended up covered in sores from promiscuity. As the exams approached, he gave a hundred taels of silver to a doctor, begging for a quick recovery. The doctor used poisonous powder, and within a few days he appeared healthy enough to finish the exams and return. Less than half a year later, the sores worsened, and despite treatment, he died tragically.

Having no brothers or heirs, his relatives rushed to seize his property. His wife, Lady Wang, had no one to rely on, so everything depended on Sixth Aunt. She handled both funeral arrangements and relations with relatives, and by establishing an heir according to family rules, everyone was satisfied and silent. Sixth Aunt also received a share of the family wealth, amounting to several thousand taels. Remembering her husband’s fate—whether true or not—and how much money he had spent, she sent people everywhere to search for him. Someone from the capital reported that Ma Decheng wasn’t dead but was living in poverty there, known as “the dull scholar.” Sixth Aunt, being a wise woman, gathered her silver and servants, hired a ship, and traveled to the capital to find her husband. She learned that Ma Decheng was writing the Lotus Sutra in the Great Compassion Pavilion of Longxing Temple in Zhending Prefecture. So she sent a hundred taels of silver, several sets of new clothes, and a carefully written letter, entrusting it to her servant to deliver to her husband, with instructions: “I will now join Ma Sir in the monastery. Please come here to study and take the exams without delay.”

Wang An arrived at Youxing Temple and met the abbot, asking, “Where is Lord Ma from Fujian?” The abbot replied, “I only have a ‘mediocre scholar’ here; there’s no such thing as Lord Ma.” Wang An said, “That’s him. Please lead me to him.” The monk led him to the Great Compassion Pavilion and pointed, “Isn’t the one writing scriptures at the table next to him the mediocre scholar?” Wang An had seen Ma Decheng several times when he was at home. Even though he was now in humble clothes, how could he not recognize him? As soon as he saw Ma Decheng, he knelt down and kowtowed. Ma Decheng, however, was in poverty and hardship and didn’t expect this; he couldn’t recall immediately. In a hurry, he helped Wang An up and asked, “Who are you?” Wang An replied, “I am from the Huang family in Jiangle County. I’ve been sent by the young lady to welcome Lord Ma. She has a letter for him here.” Ma Decheng then asked about it. “Has your young lady married into some noble family?” Wang An answered, “The young lady has remained faithful to her principles to this day, vowing not to remarry. Due to recent tragedies in her family, she came to the capital personally to seek Lord Ma out, hoping to go north with him. She asks that you arrange the departure at once.” Ma Decheng opened the letter and found it to be a poem, which read:

Why does the young man long for distant travels?
He should know his dreams aren’t yet realized.
There are opportunities in the south—let’s prepare to ascend the Phoenix Tower together.

After reading it, Ma Decheng smiled slightly. Wang An offered him clothes and silver, asking when they could set off. Ma Decheng said, “I’m well aware of the young lady’s kindness. But I have a saying: ‘To enjoy a romantic night in a palace, one must first achieve success in the imperial examinations.’ I’ve been poor and neglected my studies for a long time. Now that I have some funds to cover expenses, I’ll wait until next year’s autumn exams before daring to meet her.” Wang An didn’t dare press him and returned with a reply letter. Ma Decheng took some silk left over from writing scriptures and composed four lines in response:

I’m tired of wandering through life’s troubles;
I’m glad to see you again after so long.
I once made plans to pursue love with her;
Please don’t let those words leave the Phoenix Tower.

Ma Decheng sealed the poem and gave it to Wang An. Wang An rushed back to the capital overnight and reported to Young Lady Liu Wan. After reading the poem, she was filled with regret.

That year, Emperor Tianshun faced the “Tumu Incident,” and the empress dowager requested that Prince Yu take over the throne, changing the era name to Jingtai. King Zhen and his entire family were confiscated, while those who accused him suffered losses instead receiving promotions and favors. When Young Lady Huang heard this news in her residence, she sent Wang An back to Youxing Temple to inform Ma Decheng. Although Ma Decheng was now living in a monk’s quarters, surrounded by books and enjoying fine food and clothing, things were no longer as they used to be. The monks, knowing that he was Lord Ma, treated him with great respect. He was thirty-two years old at the time, experiencing good fortune, just as Master Zhang Tiekou had predicted. This shows that everything is determined by fate; humans can do little to change it.

Decheng said he was reviewing his past studies in the temple when he received news from Gong An. He packed his belongings, bid farewell to the elder, and headed to the capital to find a place to stay. Miss Huang sent two servants to take care of him, providing all necessary daily necessities and seeing him off with great enthusiasm. Decheng drafted a memorial describing how his late father, Ma Wanqun, had suffered because of speaking out honestly. In it, he asked for mercy to restore his father’s reputation and also sought to secure his own future. The emperor approved his request, restoring Ma Wanqun to his former position with three rank upgrades, allowing him to resume his studies and official duties. The lands and property that had been confiscated were returned to him by the authorities. Decheng sent someone to inform Miss Huang of this. Miss Huang then sent Wang An with silver to Decheng’s residence, asking him to follow the proper procedures for purchasing grain. The next spring, he passed the examination to become the top student, and by autumn he became the number one scholar. He prepared a celebration at his residence and married Miss Huang. The following spring, he ranked tenth in the provincial examinations and achieved the second class in the imperial exams, qualifying as a Shujishi. He submitted a request for leave to return home, burned incense at his father’s grave, and the emperor granted his request. The couple returned home in splendor, greeted by officials from the local government. All the lands and houses that had been confiscated in previous years were redeemed at official prices, recorded properly, not a penny missing. Those who had neglected them in the past now flocked to their door like in a market. Only Gu Xiang felt ashamed and moved to another county. At that time, Master Zhang Ti Kou was still alive. Upon hearing that Mr. Ma had returned victorious, he came to offer his congratulations, and Decheng gave him generous gifts before he left. Later, Ma Renzhi rose to become minister of Rites, War, and Justice, while Miss Huang was granted the title of first-rank lady. Their two sons both passed the highest levels of the examinations, continuing their family’s legacy. To this day, people in Yanping Prefecture use the term “dull scholar” to refer to those who fail to pass the examinations. There is a poem that laments:

For ten years in distress, with few true friends;
One day, success comes, fulfilling all hopes.
Autumn chrysanthemums and spring peaches come in their time—
Why search the depths of the sea for a needle?

Volume 18: An Old Student Repays Gratitude Over Three Generations

Buy an ox to learn farming, build a thatched hut by the woods.
Knowing old age is near, spend a few years in the mountains.
Seeking wealth or office is but an illusion;
Those skilled in poetry and wine are truly immortals.

In this world, everything seems to increase in value,
But old age brings no monetary reward from writings.

These eight lines are words of a wise man. The last line says, “Old age brings no monetary reward from writings.” There’s even a commentary on this line. Generally, success in life comes at different times—some achieve it early, others later. Those who succeed early may not truly succeed, and those who succeed late may not end up well-off. One shouldn’t rely too much on youth, nor give up in old age. These terms of “youth” and “old age” are merely related to age and cannot be taken as absolute criteria. For example, Gan Luo became prime minister at twelve, but if he died at twelve, those twelve years would have been spent with graying hair and a bent back. With so little time left, he couldn’t truly be called young. Another example is Jiang Taigong, who was still fishing by the Wei River at eighty. After meeting King Wen of Zhou, he was taken aboard the king’s carriage and appointed as his teacher. When King Wen died, King Wu ascended the throne, and Jiang Taigong continued to serve as a high-ranking official.

The strategist, Suo Wu Gongdai Shang, laid the foundation for the Zhou dynasty to last eight hundred years; he was granted a fief in the State of Qi. He also taught his son Ding Gong to govern Qi, while remaining as prime minister of the Zhou dynasty, living until the age of 120 before dying. Who would have thought that an old fisherman at eighty could still accomplish so much later on in life? Looking at it this way, at eighty he was still in his youth, just starting out, like a bridegroom or someone taking the imperial examinations—certainly not considered old. People only care about status in the present; who knows whether days will be long or short in the future? They are too busy flattering the young and wealthy, but once they grow a few years older, they neglect them—such people are shortsighted and ignorant. Just like in farming, there are early crops and late crops; who knows which yields better? As the ancients said: “The peach blossoms in the eastern garden bloom early but wither first; the pines by the stream grow slowly but retain their greenery until late.”

Enough with these idle talks. Back during the legitimate reigns of our dynasty, in Xing’an County, Guilin Prefecture, there was a scholar surnamed Xianyu, named Tong, with the courtesy name Datong. At the age of eight, he was recognized as a prodigy; at eleven, he entered the imperial examinations and was promoted ahead of schedule. His talent was such that even Dong Zhongshu and Sima Xiangru would seem insignificant in comparison—he truly had vast knowledge and could wield his pen like a weapon against armies. As for his ambition, even if someone like Feng Jing or He He achieved three top honors in the examinations, he would still consider himself superior, truly capable of conquering all obstacles with his brilliance. Yet, despite his great talent and lofty aspirations, his fate was unfortunate. Year after year he took the examinations but never saw his name listed on the yellow list or marked with red ink. By the age of thirty, it was time for him to pay the tribute required of scholars. Being a talented and ambitious person, he refused to take this path. A poor scholar’s family relies on just a few taels of silver from studying to afford books. If he left school without this source of income, he might end up in prison, wasting more money. Besides, it was better to take the examinations within one’s own province than in prison—so he reasoned. By chance, he expressed this idea to some friends, and another scholar who also needed to pay the tribute approached him, asking to take his place in exchange for several dozen pieces of gold. Xianyu Tong thought he had made a good deal.

At first it was out of kindness, then it became a common practice—everyone wanted to avoid paying the tribute and rushed to do so.

Starting from the age of thirty, Xianyu Tong gave up his turn to pay the tribute eight times in a row. By the age of forty-six, he was still trapped among those who had to pay the tribute, struggling in the ranks of those who couldn’t pass the examinations. Some laughed at him, some pitied him, and some tried to persuade him. He ignored those who laughed at him and refused those who pitied him. Only those who tried to persuade him angered him greatly, as he would say, “You urge me to pay the tribute, but you never mention that I’m too old to pass the examinations. But do you know that greatness belongs to those who are mature? Liang Hao passed the examinations at the age of 82, bringing honor to all men who are determined to study. If I had wanted to succeed earlier, I would have done so at thirty. With hard work, I could have become a local official and enriched myself. But now it’s a world governed by examinations. If Confucius hadn’t passed the examinations, who would have known of his talents?”

I vaguely remember a few old essays from back then. I encountered a blind examiner who just guessed randomly, and I managed to pass and become a Jinshi in my sleep. Some people would become his disciples, calling him teacher, talking highly of him—who would dare to set another exam for those wearing veiled hats? Moreover, there are so many unfair practices in officialdom. Those who become officials are like copper or iron castings; they can act recklessly, and no one dares to criticize them. As for those in charge of tax collection, they work diligently, but their superiors still take advantage of them. When it comes to reporting back, only the Jinshi officials are considered; no matter how corrupt or cruel they may be, from an impartial perspective, there’s still room for leniency. They say, “Though this official violates the rules, perhaps considering his new appointment or youth, we can hope he’ll reform. As a last resort, we might demote him due to his impetuosity.” After a few years, he’ll start acting again. If he manages to get some silver to ask for a reversal, it’s just a transfer to another place—nothing serious happens. As for those in charge of tax collection, even a small amount is treated as if it were ten times as much. If they encounter someone powerful, they have nowhere to turn. No matter how honest and capable such officials may be, they still have to rely on others to cover for the Jinshi officials. With so many unfair practices, those who become Jinshi can’t advance further in their careers. I’d rather remain a scholar all my life, crying out for justice before the King of Hell after death, than humble myself and suffer constantly, living a life of frustration! So he composed a poem, which went as follows:

Throughout history, those with qualifications have struggled in the court,
Valuing only academic titles, not the person themselves.
The true scholar fears losing his reputation,
Just as Ye Gong pretended to love dragons, seeking nothing real.
If there’s still no chance, I’d rather grow old in simplicity.
The efforts of heroes are wasted on iron inkstones;
In old age, one speaks of peace in Pingjin.

During the Han dynasty, there was a Marquis of Pingjin named Gongsun Hong. At fifty, he studied The Spring and Autumn Annals; at sixty, he ranked first in the imperial examinations and became prime minister and marquis. Xianyu Tong passed the exams at sixty-one, and people thought his poetry was excellent—this is a later story.

After reciting these eight lines of poetry, Xianyu Tong’s determination grew even stronger. But fate was against him. As he neared fifty, “It’s still the old Su Qin,” and he couldn’t change his situation. A few years later, he even failed the preliminary exams. Every time exams were held, he was the first to be stopped by the examiners, earning the disdain of many. By the sixth year of Tianshun, Xianyu Tong was fifty-seven, with gray hair, yet he still mixed among the younger scholars, discussing literature tirelessly. Those young people either saw him as a strange creature and avoided him, or as a joke and mocked him. But that’s not what matters here.

It is said that the magistrate of Xing’an County was surnamed Ci, named Yushi, with the courtesy name Shunzhi. He was from Xianju County, Taizhou Prefecture, Zhejiang Province. In his youth, he excelled in the imperial examinations and enjoyed great reputation. He loved discussing literature and art, as well as debating ancient and modern matters. However, he had one flaw: he favored the young and contemptible while treating the elderly with indifference. When he saw a handsome young man, he would give him extra praise; but if it was an older, more mature person, he would regard them as worthless, addressing them as “senior” in a mocking manner. During the examination period, the superior officials ordered the county to conduct exams. As usual, the magistrate would examine all the scholars in the county, review their papers, and, confident in his own judgment, arbitrarily ranked them. He secretly selected one person as the first place winner and was very proud of himself. In front of all the scholars, he boasted, “Our county has produced a top candidate—this man has the spirit of the Wu and Yue regions; he will surely succeed, and no other scholar in the county can compare to him.” Everyone bowed in obedience, as if before an emperor honoring a famous hero, not knowing which one to honor. When the names were called, only one person stepped forward from the crowd. What did this person look like?

He was short and fat, with half black and half white hair. His worn-out scholar’s robes were patched many times. Everyone looked at him, wondering if he resembled a judge. Without exaggeration, he truly deserved the title of “senior”—today he spoke freely. Don’t envy him, nor lament for yourself; eventually, everyone becomes old. There’s no need to strive or compete; they just take turns serving as leaders.

That person at the top wasn’t anyone else but the 56-year-old oddity and laughingstock named Xianyu Tong. All the scholars in the hall burst into laughter, saying, “Senior Xianyu has been chosen again!” Even Kuai Gong felt ashamed and turned red in the face, speechless. They had misread the papers earlier; now, how could they regret it? Holding back their anger, they hastily finished grading the papers. To their delight, aside from the first-place winner, all the others were handsome young men, which brought some joy. After distributing the results that day, the magistrate returned to the office, feeling displeased.

It is said that Xianyu Tong had once been a renowned scholar in his youth. After being delayed for several years, although his ambition hadn’t faded, he still felt frustrated—like Qu Yuan who sang of his solitude, or Ji Qian of Luoyang who felt ashamed. Today, by surprise, he became the top scorer, which gave him some satisfaction. When it came to the academic exams, perhaps his writing wasn’t the best, but thanks to being the top scorer in the county, he qualified for the higher-level examinations. He went there happily. While his friends studied diligently, Xianyu Tong spent his days playing around in the streets. Others saw him and guessed, “This old man must be here to send his son or grandson to the exams; what a carefree person!” If they had known he was a scholar who had passed the examinations, they would surely have laughed at him.

On the seventh day of the eighth month, suddenly, there was great fanfare in the streets as examiners were welcomed to the examination hall. While watching, Xian Yu Tong saw Lord Lin from Xing’an County, who was in charge of selecting candidates for the “Li Ji Peng Fang” examination. Xian Yu Tong thought to himself that since he and Lord Lin had studied together and Lord Lin had ranked him first in his previous exams, he must like his writing. This time, there was a high chance of success. But Lord Lin had other plans; he said, “I’ll choose a young student—his career ahead is long, he can serve as an official for many years, and his teacher can rely on him. Those old scholars are useless if chosen.” He added, “During last year’s exams, I was blinded and mistakenly chose Xian Yu Tong, which was embarrassing in front of everyone. If I choose him again, it will be another joke. When I review the papers, those with neat work are likely those who have studied for a long time. Don’t choose him. Pick those with a naive style, messy grammar, uneven prose, timid arguments, and weak judgments—that’s surely a young beginner. Although their knowledge isn’t thorough, they can still be nurtured for a few more exams. They’re still young, so let’s get rid of Xian Yu Tong this time.” With that decision made, he reviewed the papers as usual, selecting a few with imperfect but somewhat decent work, marking them clearly, and submitting them to the chief examiner. The chief examiner marked all of them as “pass.” On the 28th of August, the chief examiner and the examiners gathered in the “Zhi Gong Tang” to open the envelopes and compile the list. The first place in the “Li Ji Peng Fang” category went to a student from Xing’an County, Guilin Prefecture, with the double surname Xian Yu and name Tong, who specialized in the “Li Ji.” It was once again that strange, ridiculous person who got lucky. Lord Lin was greatly surprised. Seeing Lord Lin’s displeasure, the chief examiner asked why. Lord Lin replied, “That Xian Yu is already old; if he’s placed at the top, he won’t be able to inspire the younger students. I’d prefer to exchange his place with someone else.” The chief examiner pointed to the plaque on the wall and said, “Since this hall is called ‘Zhi Gong Tang,’ how can we show favoritism based on age? Since ancient times, the top spot has belonged to those who are mature, so that we can inspire the aspirations of all scholars in the land.” Thus, no exchange was made, and he was declared fifth place overall. There was nothing Lord Lin could do. As the saying goes:
“You may try every means possible, but fate cannot be changed.
You intended to choose the young man, yet still picked the old oddity.”

Lord Lin had resolved not to choose Xian Yu Tong, so only those with neat writing were selected. Xian Yu Tong, having studied for a long time, naturally had neat writing—so how could he be disadvantaged? It turned out that on the seventh day of the eighth month, Xian Yu Tong saw Lord Lin enter the hall and thought there was a high chance of success. Back at his lodging, he drank too much alcohol, damaging his stomach, which caused diarrhea. He forced himself to enter the exam hall, distracted by thoughts of writing while suffering from diarrhea, finishing his essay in a hurry. The same happened in the second and third exams—his great talent went unused at all. He thought he would definitely pass, not realizing that the examiner didn’t care about neat writing, allowing him to end up at the top. It was a case of extreme misfortune turning into good fortune, a twist of fate. In Xing’an County, only he passed as a candidate. After the banquet that day, among those of the same age group, he ranked first. The examiners were happy to see their students, except for Lord Lin, who was displeased. Xian Yu Tong felt grateful for Lord Lin’s recognition twice over.

Well, the examiner became even more insistent, while the examiner in charge grew increasingly lazy. For the imperial examinations in the capital, he followed the usual procedures without any intention of showing extra care or effort. Next year, Xianyu Tong would be 58 years old; he took the exams again and failed once more. When they met, the examiner said nothing else but advised him to take an official position instead. Xianyu Tong had been a scholar for forty years but refused to become an official; after passing the exams just that year, how could he give up on becoming a scholar and return home to study? He became even more enthusiastic about it. Whenever he heard that someone else had passed the exams as a scholar, he would take paper, ink, pen, and brush and join them in writing. No matter how others teased, laughed at, or dismissed him, he didn’t care at all. After finishing his writing, he would read through everyone else’s work and leave satisfied—this became his routine.

Time passed swiftly, and before long three years had gone by, and it was time for another round of exams. Xianyu Tong was now sixty-one years old. Though his age had increased, his enthusiasm remained the same. During his second attempt at the exams in the capital, he had a dream. In the dream, he ranked first and his name appeared on the list of successful candidates, but under it it was written “The Book of Songs,” not “The Book of Rites.” Xianyu Tong was a man of deep learning—how could he not know one of these classics? Desperate for success, he believed the words in the dream and changed his subject to “The Book of Songs” for the exam. Coincidence often plays a role in life. The county magistrate who appointed him was an honest official, and he was promoted to a position in the Ministry of Rites. That year, Xianyu Tong took part in the advanced exams again. The examiner, unaware of Xianyu Tong’s change in subject, thought to himself, “I made a mistake twice before by choosing that ‘senior’ Xianyu Tong. This time, he’s even older. If he passes in the ‘Book of Rites’ section again, that would be a blessing for life. I shouldn’t look at ‘The Book of Rites’ anymore; I’ll switch to ‘The Book of Songs.’ Whether that ‘senior’ Xianyu Tong passes or not, it has nothing to do with me.” When it came time to review the papers, he requested to see the papers from the “Book of Songs” section. He then thought, “There must be many scholars like that ‘senior’ Xianyu Tong in the world. If he doesn’t pass, and some other guy does, isn’t that like being struck by lightning?” He realized that experienced scholars surely understood the classics thoroughly, while younger people who focused solely on the Four Books might not be as proficient in the classics. Now, since the exams required thorough knowledge of the classics, those with only superficial knowledge might influence the results—these must be young people. After reviewing the papers and announcing the results, the top paper from the “Book of Songs” section was ranked tenth overall. When he opened it, it turned out to be from a student from Xing’an County, Guilin Prefecture, surnamed Xianyu, named Tong, who had studied “The Book of Songs”—again, that 61-year-old fool! He was so angry that he was stunned, like a dead log or ash! Had he known from the start that success was predetermined, he would have regretted putting in so much effort earlier. The examiner thought again, “There are many people with the same name in the world, but there can’t be two Xianyu Tongs in Xing’an County, Guilin Prefecture. But he always studied ‘The Book of Rites’—why did he change to ‘The Book of Songs’? How strange!” When Xianyu Tong came to pay his respects, the examiner asked why he had changed his subject. Xianyu Tong recounted the dream he had had. The examiner sighed repeatedly and said, “A truly destined scholar!” From then on, the relationship between the examiner and Xianyu Tong as teacher and student became even stronger than before.

He scored one point. He had tried before; Xianyu Tong ranked second in the examinations and was appointed as an official in the Ministry of Punishments. People said that in his later years, since he held a low-ranking position, it made him feel frustrated, but he remained calm and untroubled.

It is said that during his tenure, he spoke out boldly at the Zakeyuan office, criticizing Grand Secretary Liu Ji in his memorials. This angered Liu Ji, who sought faults against him and had him imprisoned. At that time, the officials in the Ministry of Punishments all flattered Liu Ji, wanting to get rid of him. Fortunately, Xianyu Tong did his best within the ministry to intervene, which helped the man avoid severe punishment. He also worked with others from the same year to seek leniency for him through various offices, and thus the man received a milder sentence. The man thought to himself, “If it weren’t for this old teacher, my life would be in danger today.” So he went to Xianyu Tong’s residence to express his gratitude. Xianyu Tong said, “A student owes three times as much to his teacher for his kindness. Today’s small act of service is merely a token repayment; there’s still much left to repay.” That day, the teacher and student parted after drinking together joyfully. From then on, whether the man was at home or on duty, he would send people to check on Xianyu Tong once or twice a year, though the gifts were modest, just as a token of appreciation.

Time passed quickly. Xianyu Tong continued to move up within the ministry, and before he knew it, six years had passed, and it was time for him to be promoted to prefect. People in the capital valued his talents and respected his maturity, so the Ministry of Personnel wanted to find him a good position. Xianyu Tong didn’t care much about this.

By chance, news reached him that his former student, Ce Gong, had quarreled with a wealthy family over burial ground boundaries, leading to a fight. Ce Gong’s family lost a servant, who claimed to have been killed by Ce Gong’s son, and reported the case to the authorities. Ce Gong’s son had no way to defend himself and fled to his father’s post in Yunnan. The authorities suspected he had fled to avoid responsibility for the murder, and sent many people to arrest him; several family members were also detained, causing great fear. Since there was a vacancy as prefect in Taizhou, Xianyu Tong asked someone to secure that position for him. The Ministry of Personnel knew Taizhou wasn’t a desirable post, but since he was willing, they agreed and promoted Xianyu Tong to prefect of Taizhou.

Three days after taking office, the wealthy family learned that the new prefect was their former student, who had come specifically to resolve their dispute, likely out of bias. They spread rumors at the office to create trouble, but Xianyu Tong ignored them. When the family members came to complain, he pretended not to pay attention. Secret agents were sent to capture the servant, determined to bring him back. After more than two months, the servant was captured in Hangzhou. He was brought before the prefect for trial, and it turned out he had fled on his own, with nothing to do with the family. The servant was punished and handed over to the family, who then released him. One day, Ce Gong personally went to the burial site to inspect the boundaries. Seeing that the servant had been released, he realized his lawsuit was baseless and feared losing in court. He asked the prefect for help and also sent people to the Ce family, offering to give up part of the land to settle the dispute. Now that the matter was resolved, he didn’t want to keep enemies. The prefect approved the settlement, imposed a light punishment on the Ce family, and reported the case to his superiors. Both families were satisfied. As the saying goes: “Worried only when there’s no mirror above, afraid only when there are evil spirits below.”

Xian Yu Dashou then wrote a letter and sent someone to Yunnan Prefecture to reply to Master Fang. Master Fang was overjoyed, thinking, “‘Plants thorns to get pricks; plants peaches and plums to gain shade.’ If it weren’t for this old student, it would have been difficult to improve my financial situation these days.” So he wrote a sincere letter of thanks, sent his son Qianwen with gifts as a token of gratitude, and went to the prefecture to express his thanks.

Xian Yu said, “I have spent my later years in obscurity, abandoned by the world. I owe great thanks to your esteemed teacher for recognizing my talents three times and helping me pass the examinations. I always feared I might die before being able to repay such kindness. Today, since your brother has been falsely accused, it is only right that the truth be revealed. I have done nothing more than a small effort to repay my teacher’s kindness in promoting me; I still owe him much!” He then took care of the family affairs for Young Master Qian and advised him to study at home. From then on, there were no further issues.

Xian Qian served as governor in Taizhou for three years, gaining great fame. He was promoted to military inspector in Huining Circuit, and later became an integrity commissioner in Henan. Diligent in his duties, even in his eighties he still had the energy of a young man, and was promoted to governor of Zhejiang. Xian Yu thought, “I passed the examinations at the age of sixty-one. I’ve enjoyed success in the scholarly path and a smooth career without any setbacks. Now that I’ve reached the position of governor, my honor is at its peak. I’ve always been diligent and honest, living up to the expectations of the court. It’s time for me to retire bravely now. But I still haven’t fully repaid the kindness my teacher showed me three times. Since this post is in Master Fang’s jurisdiction, perhaps I can do something small to repay him.” So he chose a day to take up the position. Needless to say, he was greeted with great honor along the way. The next day, he arrived in the capital of Zhejiang Province. By then, Master Fang had also risen to the position of senior advisor but, due to illness, could no longer handle affairs and had retired home. Hearing that Xian Yu had become the governor of the province again, he brought his twelve-year-old grandson and went personally to Hangzhou to meet him. Although Master Fang was a teacher, he was more than twenty years younger than Xian Yu. Now that he was retired and suffering from eye disease, he was even more pitiable. Xian Yu, though already eighty years old, was as strong as a young man and held a high official position. This shows that success doesn’t depend on timing. Master Fang sighed many times.

As the saying goes: “Why envy the abundance of peaches when pines and cypresses endure? Please examine the branches that stand firm in cold weather.”

After taking office, Xian Yu planned to send someone to visit Master Fang as a courtesy. When he heard that Master Fang had arrived, he was overjoyed and went out to greet him, inviting him to his private residence where they met as teacher and student. Master Fang called his twelve-year-old grandson and said, “Meet your great-grandfather.” Xian Yu asked, “Who is this teacher?” Master Fang replied, “I owe my life to your great-grandfather. Your elder son once faced difficulties, but was later exonerated—this kindness is truly overwhelming. Now, fortune has favored my province once again. I am old and sick, and won’t live long. Your elder son hasn’t achieved much through studying; I only have this grandson, named Qianwu, who is quite intelligent. I’ve brought him here to entrust him to you, hoping for your guidance.” Xian Yu said, “This student is too young to pursue an official career. It’s precisely because I still haven’t fully repaid my teacher’s kindness that I’ve come here despite my inadequacies. Today, since your teacher has entrusted his grandson to me, this is an opportunity for me to repay his kindness. I would like to keep your grandson in my office to study with my own grandchildren. I wonder if you’re comfortable with that?” Master Fang replied, “If I can receive guidance from your great-grandfather, I’ll die satisfied!” So he left the two apprentices to take care of Qianwu, allowing him to study in the governor’s office, while Master Fang left. Qianwu was indeed very intelligent.

People and their writings improve day by day. Even in the autumn of the year, when it was time to pursue learning, Xian Yu Gong highly recommended this child as a prodigy, encouraging him to continue his studies. He remained in the government office, studying diligently.

Three years later, he had completed his studies. Xian Yu Gong said, “This boy can pass the imperial examinations; I can now repay my teacher’s kindness.” He gave Bi Wu three hundred taels of silver as funds for writing tools, personally delivering them to Xianju County in Taizhou. Just two days before the examination, the local magistrate died of illness. After mourning, Xian Yu Gong asked, “What did your teacher say before dying?” Bi Wu replied, “My father left instructions that since he himself succeeded in passing the exams at a young age, he should cherish those who are older and wiser. He tried hard on his own, but it was thanks to our respected ancestors who always guided him. Our descendants must never neglect those who are more experienced!” Xian Yu Gong laughed heartily and said, “Today, I repay my teacher’s kindness three times over, so that everyone will understand that supporting the elderly is also useful—we should not favor the young while despising the old!” Then he bid farewell and returned to his province, submitting a request to retire. Once approved, he rushed back and spent his days leisurely in the countryside. In his free time, he taught his descendants and drank wine and composed poems with other elders in the village. Eight years later, his eldest grandson, Xian Yu Han, passed the imperial examinations and went to the capital. Coincidentally, the magistrate of Xianju County also passed the exams that year and was in the capital as well. The two families became close friends, having been classmates in their youth and studying together. When the results of the examinations were announced, the two families congratulated each other.

Xian Yu passed the exams at the age of 56 and reached the highest rank at 61. He served in government for 23 years, wearing official robes and receiving honors for three generations. After retiring home, he saw his grandson pass the exams as well and lived until the age of 96—a total of 40 years in his later life. To this day, people in Zhejiang still value education, continuing to study even in their sixties or seventies, with many achieving success late in life. A poem says:

Why strive so hard for fame and wealth? Sooner or later, it’s all in God’s hands.
As long as one learns to bear fruit like the peach tree, three thousand years isn’t too long.

Volume 19: Cui Yanei and the White Eagle That Summoned Demons

The ancient version is titled “The Three Strange Events of Ding Mountain,” or alternatively “The White Eagle of Silla.” Early in the morning, the emperor scolded his concubines; no one dared to offer advice. In the Penglai Palace, they welcomed the emperor; in front of the Flower Vase Tower, they presented lychees. Before the drums stopped beating, others kept playing; the imperial robes were still there, while battle clothes followed. Descendants turned into sources of disaster during peaceful times, forgetting the efforts of the former emperor in founding the dynasty.

This poem refers to the seventh emperor of the Tang Dynasty, known as Emperor Xuanzong. According to ancient legends, there is a star in the sky called the Xuan Star, also known as the Venus Star, the Third Star, or the Bright Star.

It is also called the Taibai Star, or the Bright Star. People who do not know it call it the Dawn Star. When it first appears, the east is still dark; as dawn approaches, that star gradually fades away. It brightens first and then fades—this is what is meant by “Xuan”. During the reign of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, when Yao Chong and Song Qiong were prime ministers, rice and wheat cost only three or four coins each, and there was no need to transport food over long distances. But after Yao and Song died, Yang Guozhong and Li Linfu became prime ministers, causing Emperor Xuanzong to develop four vices: indulgence in women at home, lust for birds abroad, addiction to wine and music, and extravagant decoration of palaces.

Emperor Xuanzong’s most beloved was a concubine named Yang Taizhen. This concubine secretly favored a barbarian man named An Lushan, who weighed 360 pounds. He could sit like a flying swallow, run as fast as a galloping horse, and dance the Hu Xuan dance with great speed. Emperor Xuanzong loved his strength and agility, so he gained favor. An Lushan then declared Emperor Xuanzong his father and the concubine his mother. Yang Taizhen shaved An Lushan’s hair, applied powder to his face, drew two eyebrows, and painted a white nose. She dressed him in brocade and colorful silk, had several strong palace maids carry him around the six palaces. At first it was just for fun, but gradually Taizhen and An Lushan started to plot rebellion. One day, while An Lushan was enjoying himself in Taizhen’s palace, a maid announced, “His Majesty has arrived!” An Lushan was extremely agile and climbed over the wall to escape.

The concubine rushed out to greet him in panic, with disheveled hair and improper speech, calling the emperor “my lord” by mistake. Emperor Xuanzong immediately got up and ordered Gao Lishi and Gao Qi, the supervisors of the six palaces, to send Taizhen back to her residence so she could reflect on her mistakes. The concubine begged to see the emperor but was refused, and she left the palace in tears.

It is said that after leaving the concubine for three days, Emperor Xuanzong could find no pleasure in food or rest. Gao Lishi understood the emperor’s feelings and suggested, “The concubine was sleepy during the day and spoke improperly, offending His Majesty. Now that she has reflected for three days, she must have realized her mistake. Why doesn’t Your Majesty summon her?” Emperor Xuanzong ordered Gao Lishi to go and see what the concubine was doing at home. Gao Lishi went to Yang Taizhen’s private residence, met with her, and reported back to the emperor, saying, “The lady looks sorrowful, neglecting her grooming. As soon as she saw me, she asked about the emperor’s well-being and burst into tears. Then she took her dressing table, faced the mirror, picked up a scissors from Bingzhou, cut a strand of her black hair, tied it with a multicolored velvet thread, sealed it herself, and asked me to deliver it to His Majesty. With tears in her eyes, she said, ‘Everything I possess comes from Your Majesty. Only my body and skin were given to me by my parents. I use these to express my gratitude for Your kindness. Please do not forget our promise on the Mid-Autumn Festival.’” It turned out that Emperor Xuanzong and the concubine had made a secret vow on the Mid-Autumn Festival at the Chenxiang Pavilion, promising to be together forever. Upon hearing Gao Lishi’s report and seeing the sealed strand of hair, Emperor Xuanzong was deeply moved and ordered Gao Lishi to bring the concubine back to the palace in a luxurious carriage. From then on, he favored her even more.

At that time, tributes kept coming from all directions: the Western Xia sent a moon-shaped lute, Southern Yue sent five flutes, Xiliangzhou sent wine, and Silla sent white falcons. The wine was presented to the emperor, while the lute was given to Zheng.

Guanyin, the jade flute was bestowed upon Prince Ning, the emperor’s younger brother, while the Silla white falcon was given to Prime Minister Cui. Later, when scholar Li Bai wrote a poem about the Peony Pavilion, comparing Zhao Feiyan to the Empress Dowager, he concealed his sarcasm within it. Gao Lishi reported this to the Empress Dowager, who in turn complained to the emperor, resulting in Li Bai being demoted. Prime Minister Cui had originally been friends with Li Bai; due to this connection, he was also affected and ordered to serve in Dingzhou, Zhongshan Prefecture in Hebei. As the saying goes: “An old turtle cannot be boiled to death; its misfortune spreads to even the withered mulberry trees.”

When Prime Minister Cui arrived in Dingzhou Zhongshan Prefecture, people from near and far came to welcome him. After handing over his official seals, he ruled with fairness—like water that is clear, like a scale that is balanced, like a rope that is straight, like a mirror that is bright. Within a month, the prefecture was so well governed that nothing was lost along the roads. It was early spring during the Tianbao era of the Liao dynasty: springtime, with tender willows and fresh flowers, plum blossoms fading; grass covering the ground, mandarin ducks singing in the north, swallows chirping in the neighboring houses. Horses pranced in the fields, and fragrant carriages rolled along the wide roads. The sun warmed things, ice melted, water turned green, the wind was gentle, rain was light, and mist was thin. In the eastern pavilions, nobles held banquets, and many people came to enjoy the flowers in the city.

Prime Minister Cui had a subordinate named Cui Ya, in his twenties. He was good-looking and loved hunting. On a spring day, he went before his master with clasped hands and said, “Father, I request a day off to go hunting in the countryside. What are your thoughts?” His master replied, “If you go, make sure to return soon.” Cui Ya said, “I understand, Father. But there’s one thing I’d like to ask of you.” His master asked what it was. Cui Ya said, “I’d like to borrow the imperial gift, the Silla white falcon, to take with me.” His master said, “Fine, but take care of it and don’t let it get lost. This is a gift from the emperor; it’s the only one of its kind in the world. If it’s lost and the emperor demands it back, where will you find another?” Cui Ya said, “I can take it with me without problem. I just want to show it off in the prefecture for everyone to see.” His master said, “Return soon and drink little.” Cui Ya borrowed the Silla white falcon and had a servant carry it. Sure enough, he took it out. He led a horse adorned with silver saddles out, mounted it, and left. Just then, someone tried to stop him, saying it was inappropriate to bring such a rare bird out, as it could lead to strange problems. It was truly an unprecedented and rare occurrence. Here’s a poem to prove it:

“Outside, birds are in chaos; inside, morals are ruined. What harm does it cause to use them a little?”

In the morning, the eagle was taken out; by dusk, it returned, accompanied by fragrance of rouge.

Cui Ya loved hunting. After borrowing the Silla white falcon, he was very happy. He had a servant carry it. Their group also included people with water-polished spearheads, slingshots, bent arrows, eagles with round eyes and curved beaks, and dogs with thin waists and deep mouths. They left the city, crossed Peach Creek, passed by Plum Valley, entered the green willow forest, and crossed...

At Fragrant Grass Ferry, Apricot Flower Village looms high in sight; thatched cottages line the banks beneath green curtains. It’s truly:
A weather neither warm nor cold, with homes scattered half in the village and half beyond its walls.

After traveling twenty or thirty miles, realizing everyone was tired from walking, they found an inn. The young official dismounted from his horse and went inside to ask, “Is there any good wine I can buy to reward everyone and help them keep going?” A bartender came out singing. Upon looking at him, he was tall—eight feet tall—with a leopard-like head and a swallow-shaped neck, deep-set eyes, resembling Zhang Fei by the broken bridge over the water, or Wang Yanzhang from Shuizhen Town.

The young official was shocked upon seeing the bartender and said, “How can someone have such an ugly appearance?” The bartender sang silently and stood aside. The official ordered, “Bring some good wine for us to drink as a reward for everyone.” The bartender brought out a barrel of wine from inside. They had wine cups with them, which were placed on the table. One cup was poured out first for the official:
Wine, wine, wine, to invite friends and companions. Do not delay; time passes quickly. Drink before meals, follow with tea. It’s essential in the face of the wind, and necessary when facing the moon. Li Bai could drink a stone’s worth at once, while Liu Ling would sober up after just five dou. When a gentleman touches it with his lips, his face turns like a peach; when a beauty drinks it, her waist becomes like a willow.

Seeing the red color of the wine, the official was alarmed: “Why is it so red?” He stepped on the bartender’s heel, went over to the wine jar, lifted the lid, and took a look—so frightened that he felt as if his soul had left his body.

All he saw was blood mixed with floating rice grains. The official came back outside and told everyone not to drink the wine. He gave the bartender a few silver coins as payment for the wine. The bartender accepted the money and thanked him. The official mounted his horse and left the inn. After traveling another mile or two, they encountered another hill. Outside the city walls is called “guo,” beyond that is “jiao,” outside “jiao” is “ye,” and farthest out is “pei.” After traveling for half a day, they finally reached Mount Heng in the north. At the foot of Mount Heng stood a small peak, with truly majestic mountains: mountains rising abruptly in all directions, surrounded by greenery, with misty clouds and flowing streams like musical instruments. The peaks resembled those beyond Qianshan, visible at a glance. He thought to himself that since the cloud-covered peaks were still there, it would be fitting to climb them again. Though the Seven Sages of the Later Ages are admirable, the Four Elders of their prime should not be idle. Just as the official was about to climb the mountain, he looked up and saw two wooden posts at the foot of the mountain, with a plaque nailed to each post bearing a few words. The official immediately read it and said, “What a dangerous path this is!” He stopped his horse and ordered, “Let’s go back!” Everyone rushed over, and the official pointed to the plaque for them to see. Those who could read said, “This mountain leads to the north…”

Yuehengshan Road is also known as Dingshan. There is a road there that cannot be traveled on. There are many spirits and ghosts in it. Those who are gentlemen should take the small path at the foot of the mountain to go back and forth; they must not cross this mountain. This is hereby informed in advance.

“What shall we do now?” asked the court servant. “We have no choice but to go back.” Just as they were about to return, someone came out with a falcon perched on his shoulder and a horned eagle in his hand. He said, “Court servant, men and women live here. Above, there are countless beautiful sights, as well as various strange birds and beasts. Since you’ve come out for hunting, if you don’t enter this mountain and instead take the small path, where will there be any birds or beasts? It’s a shame to waste the Silla white falcon, and it’s also a shame to waste my horned eagle. All these little falcons, hunting dogs, slingshots, and bows are just useless now.” The court servant replied, “That makes sense. Listen to me: if anyone catches a living animal, they’ll get three taels of silver when they return to the mansion, along with some wine to drink. If they catch a dead one, each person will get one tael of silver and some wine too. But if no birds or beasts are caught, there will be no silver or wine.” Everyone agreed to this wager.

The court servant whipped his horse and went up the mountain first. The others also followed. To their surprise, they didn’t catch a single bird or beast. Suddenly, they heard a rustling sound in the grass. The court servant used his magical water from the Five Wheels and Eight Lights to take a look, and exclaimed in delight! A bright red rabbit stepped out from the grass. Everyone rushed forward, and the court servant said, “Whoever catches this red rabbit will receive five taels of silver!” Behind the horse stood a man holding a Silla white falcon. The court servant asked, “Why aren’t you releasing it?” The idle man replied, “Without orders from the master, I dare not act on my own.” The court servant ordered, “Go quickly!” The man fetched the order and released the white falcon to chase after the red rabbit. As soon as the falcon was set free, it flew away like an arrow. The rabbit, seeing the falcon approaching quickly, dived into the shallow grass. When the falcon saw that the rabbit had disappeared, it flew straight over the mountain ridge. The court servant said, “Help me find the white falcon!” He also spurred his horse and chased after it. When he reached the middle of the mountain, he saw a pine forest:

Loose, loose. With steep trunks and dense shade, they endure the years and withstand the winter. They reach high into the blue sky, with towering green peaks. Their shapes resemble umbrellas, and their forms are like dragons. The rustling of their leaves in the wind, and the overlapping shadows of their branches under the moonlight. Throughout the four seasons, they embody the virtues of a gentleman. Once, five such trees were even granted titles by high officials. The court servant, holding a water-polished horn target and slingshot, rode his horse and chased after them. He saw the white falcon fly into the forest, so he entered the forest as well. Initially, the white falcon had a small bell around its neck. Behind the forest was a steep cliff with no way up, yet they could hear the sound of the bell coming from the top of the cliff. When the court servant looked up, he was shocked and said, “I’ve never seen anything so strange!” On top of the cliff, under a large tree, sat someone...

A skeleton of varying lengths: Zhen.
Wearing a golden moth hat on its head, dressed in a brocade robe with gleaming gold armor. The brocade robe was a shade of lychee red; the gold armor shone brightly, and it wore a pair of parrot-green boots. Looking at that skeleton, its left hand held a white falcon, while its right hand used one finger to pluck the bell on the falcon’s neck, guiding the bird with whistles from its mouth. The servant said, “It’s not acting strangely! I’ll go get it now, but there’s no way to get there.” He had no choice but to plead below, “Honorable deity, I don’t know which sacred being you are, but I’ve lost my Silla white falcon. I hope you’ll return it to me!” The skeleton seemed indifferent. After pleading like this five or seven times and offering seven or eight large bets, still not a single person appeared in the forest, and the skeleton remained uninterested. Unable to bear it any longer, the servant picked up the slingshot in his hand, loaded it fully, and aimed closely before firing. With a loud noise, both the skeleton and the white falcon disappeared. When he rode out of the forest, no one was in sight. Looking around the forest, everything was covered in green grass. As dusk fell, the servant continued slowly, feeling hungry. He dismounted, untied his horse, and led it along, ready to leave the mountain pass. Looking up at the sky:

The sun had already set in the west, crows and magpies cried loudly in the forest. Fishermen stopped their boats, while travelers hurried on their journeys; misty villages lay in the distance. Mountain temples were quiet, with silver lamps lit before the Buddha. The moon rose over the eastern suburbs, and the wine shops in the isolated villages closed down. Colorful woodcutters returned, climbing ancient paths and crossing streams, occasionally hearing the cries of tigers or the howls of wolves. In secluded courtyards, ladies waited by the doors for their husbands to return. The servant, alone with his horse, came to a place that wasn’t the path he had taken earlier. Under the starlight, he saw several thatched cottages in the distance. The servant thought, “Thankfully, there are people here; that’s good.” He went over and saw a courtyard:

A courtyard, by the embankment and hillside, with green-tiled roofs and white clay walls. Mulberry and hemp plants reflected the sunlight, with elm and willow trees lining the area. Pheasants called from the bamboo groves, and wild dogs barked in the village. Soft mist covered the thatched cottages, and gentle fog enveloped the fields and mulberry trees. Families had enough food to feed their chickens and dogs, and no troubles plagued their descendants.

The servant tied his horse to a willow tree in front of the courtyard and went to knock on the door. He said, “I’m a passing traveler who’s lost my way. I’d like to stay here for the night and find my way home tomorrow.” No one answered from inside. The servant tried again, saying, “I’m the son of Prime Minister Cui from Zhongshan Prefecture. I’ve lost my Silla white falcon and am lost. I’m asking for shelter for the night.” After knocking a few times, someone finally replied, “Coming, coming!” Footsteps echoed as someone came out to open the door. When the servant looked, he cried out in shock! It wasn’t anyone else but the bartender from the village inn earlier. The servant asked, “How come you’re here?”

The bartender said, “Sir, this is the master’s home. I’ll go and inform him, then I’ll come back.” Not long after the bartender left, several men in green clothes escorted a woman dressed in red out. Wu Daozi was skilled in painting, unable to capture her graceful charm; he was also eloquent, yet couldn’t fully express all her elegance.

The young man didn’t dare lift his head. “Madam, Cui Ya has lost his way. I dare ask for shelter here for one night. When I return home, I will repay your kindness.” The woman replied, “It’s been a while since we’ve had guests like you. Please come inside my house.” The young man said, “How dare I enter so rashly!” But she kept inviting him repeatedly. After some hesitation, he agreed and followed her in. They arrived at a thatched cottage, where lamps shone brightly. Women in green brought tea. The young man asked, “May I ask where this place is? What’s your surname?” Hearing his question, she smiled, revealing her delicate lips, and spoke a few words. The young man thought, “This is strange!” After drinking tea, he took the cup. He wondered why he was given tea when he was hungry. As he pondered, the woman ordered wine to be prepared. In no time, everything was ready: tables spread out, lamps shining brightly, various dishes and cups on the table, and precious foods on jade plates. On the coral-covered table, beautiful women served food; in cups made of sulfur, maids poured fine wine.

The young man bowed and said, “I’m grateful for the wine, but I dare not accept it.” The woman replied, “It’s fine. Have some wine. My family is also from noble families.” The young man asked, “May I ask which family that is?” She said, “No need to ask. You’ll know someday.” He said, “My parents expect me to return home. Could you please show me the way so I can go back soon?” She replied, “It’s fine. My family is related to high-ranking officials, and you’re the son of a prime minister. Our families are well-matched. I thought our marriage would never happen, but here we meet!” Hearing this, he became even more anxious but dared not refuse and agreed. One cup after another, he drank several rounds of wine. The young man asked for directions to go home. She said, “It’s fine. My father will send you back tomorrow.” He said, “Men and women shouldn’t sit together or eat together. As the saying goes, ‘Don’t put shoes in a melon field, don’t tidy your hat under a plum tree.’ I’m afraid of offending you.” She replied, “It’s fine. Even if we don’t become husband and wife, I’ll still send you back tomorrow.”

In a daze, he heard voices and the sound of horses outside. A woman in green reported, “The general has arrived.” The woman said, “My father has come. Please wait a moment.” She stepped forward gracefully.

The servant said, “What general is there here?” fidgeting nervously, he led him to a side room and behind a pavilion, where voices could be heard inside. The servant went to the dark spot, pried open a paper window, and peeked in—then was so frightened that he broke out in cold sweat and couldn’t move, saying, “My life is lost! After traveling all night, I’ve ended up in someone’s house.” Through the window, he saw two rows of crimson chairs arranged in the pavilion, with a skull about ten feet long sitting in the main seat—that was the one hit by the bullet during the day. Let’s see what it says next. The girl, seeing her father call out, said, “Father, is everything alright?” The skull replied, “Child, why haven’t you come to see me? I went outside during the day and saw a snow-white falcon. I found it strange, so I caught it and held it in my hand. Then someone at the foot of the mountain shot me with a bullet, hitting me right in the eye—it hurt so much! When I asked the mountain gods, I learned it was Cui Ya Nei, the son of Prime Minister Cui. If I catch this wretch, I’ll tie him to the general’s pillar and slice out his heart. With my left hand I’ll hold the wine, and with my right hand I’ll take his heart; I’ll drink a cup of wine and chew on a piece of his heart to avenge my grievance.”

Before he could finish speaking, a man came out from behind the screen—it wasn’t anyone else but the bartender from the village inn earlier. The general said, “You dog, did you hear that too?” Ban Quan replied, “I just heard something, but it’s unbelievable. Cui Ya Nei came to the inn early to buy wine, not knowing he’d hit the general’s eye!” The girl said, “Father, perhaps he accidentally hit you. Please forgive him!” Ban Quan said, “Sister, don’t blame me for speaking too much. Cui Ya Nei just came to drink wine with you in the thatched cottage.” The girl pleaded with her father, “Young Master Cui drank wine with me—he’s my destined spouse from five hundred years ago. For my sake, please forgive him!” The general remained anxious, while the girl kept urging him to calm down. Cui Ya Nei, listening from outside the window, thought, “I can’t stay here any longer; what am I waiting for?” He left the thatched cottage, opened the courtyard gate, mounted his horse, whipped it, and the horse galloped away at top speed, rushing blindly through the night until dawn, leaving Ding Shan. Cui Ya Nei said, “I’m ashamed!”

As they were talking, more than a dozen men rushed out of the woods, shouting loudly and surrounding Cui Ya Nei. He said, “How miserable! I’ve escaped the dragon’s den only to fall into the tiger’s lair!” Upon closer inspection, they turned out to be his attendants. Cui Ya Nei said, “You scared me half to death!” The men asked him, “Where have you been all night? If we hadn’t seen you today, we would have been in great trouble.” Cui Ya Nei told them everything that had happened. Everyone put their hands to their foreheads and said, “Thank goodness you’re still alive! We didn’t dare return last night and waited in these woods until today. That was actually a New罗 white falcon, perched on a tree behind the woods—we just captured it now.” The man who raised falcons said to Cui Ya Nei, “Since men and women live here, there are many strange birds and beasts in these mountains. We should send someone out to hunt again. It’s a pity we lost the New罗 white falcon.” Cui Ya Nei said, “That bastard is back again!” The men helped Cui Ya Nei return to the mansion. After leaving the banquet hall, they entered the main hall and saw their parents, then bowed respectfully. The father said, “You weren’t back all night—where have you been? Your mother was worried sick.” Cui Ya Nei said, “Father and mother, last night I witnessed something extraordinary!” He recounted all the events from beginning to end. The father grew impatient and said, “You young fool, stop talking nonsense! Punish him by locking him in the study, with guards watching to ensure he doesn’t leave!” Cui Ya Nei had no choice but to go to the study.

Time flies like an arrow, and days pass swiftly—three months have gone by in the blink of an eye. It was summer at that time: hot weather, rain-washed pavilions, gentle fans, a slight breeze, people with their sleeves open, playing chess or horse games. Ancient cauldrons burned with dragon’s blood incense, while walls were adorned with paintings of famous people. Bamboo swayed in the wind above, and rows of green pines framed the dark tiles. The best fruits were plump plums and floating melons, offering freshness against the green backdrop.

The young man hadn’t stepped out of the academy for three months. Today, however, the weather was hot, so he went to the garden behind the academy to cool off. Once seated, he said, “I haven’t dared leave the academy for three months; it’s so pleasant to be here cooling off today!” Listening to the clock, it was already the second watch of the night. A moon appeared rising in the east: the moon, ever-present, rising in the east at night and setting in the west at dawn. It’s rare to see it full; more often it’s incomplete. It’s especially beautiful at midnight, during the autumn months. Its soft light dispels the harsh frost, and its brightness outshines even the snow. A gentle breeze blew through the window in the deep night, stirring deep feelings of longing in those who were apart.

Guided by the moonlight, the young man strolled around, observing everything. Suddenly, dark clouds appeared. Through the gaps in the clouds, he saw a man driving a fragrant carriage, carrying a woman inside. The man driving the carriage was none other than Ban Da, the bartender from the previous day. In the carriage sat a woman in a red dress. Under the moonlight, the young man recognized her as the woman who had invited him to stay and drink wine at her house. She got out of the carriage and said, “Young man, I kindly invited you the other day—why did you leave without saying goodbye?” The young man replied, “Good! I won’t go. With my left hand I hold the wine, and with my right hand I hold my heart. Please spare my life, madam!” The girl said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m neither human nor ghost. I’m a fairy from the upper realms. You’re destined to be married to me after five hundred years. I’ve come here specially to share this joy with you.” She told Ban Da to drive the carriage away. The young man was instantly captivated by her beauty.

Desire, oh desire—hard to resist, easy to deceive. Hidden in secluded chambers, lurking along willow-lined paths. It weakens the will of the humble and destroys the virtues of the noble. The last king was criticized for his talent, while King Zhou had strength but no wisdom. A knife that doesn’t hurt when used on others can still kill them when faced directly. Only then do we realize that our eyes are like rippling waves—endless numbers of wise and foolish people are lost in them.

The two spent several days together in the academy. One day, the young man asked, “These past few days, you wouldn’t let us enter the academy. What’s the reason?” That night, he saw a bewitching woman. First, she reported to the housekeeper, then to her husband. His husband became extremely anxious and rushed into the academy with his sword. When the young man saw him, he could only stay silent. His husband said, “My son, I sent you to study in the academy—how could you attract the wives of our neighbors? If the court finds out, they’ll say I’ve allowed you to act like this, which will harm your future career!” The young man could only mutter, “Father, it’s not true.” Before his father could ask further, a girl stepped out from behind the screen, greeting him with “Wanfu.” Seeing her, his husband grew even more anxious. He raised his sword and stepped forward, shouting—

The voice said, “Strike!” If the sword didn’t descend, everything would be lost; but with one strike, the man was forced to take three steps back. Looking at the sharp blade in his hand, all that remained was the hilt—he was shocked and couldn’t move. Then the girl said, “My lord, don’t worry! I am bound by a five-hundred-year marriage contract with Lord Cui; we shall become husband and wife soon and ascend to immortality together.” The man was at a loss and went to consult his wife, suggesting they invite a judge. But how could they catch them?

While he was in such distress, an official came and reported, “My lord, there is a judge named Luo Gongyuan who has just taken up his post here.” The official added, “My lord refuses to see guests.” When asked why, the official recounted the previous incident. Luo Gongyuan said, “There is an immortal practicing asceticism here who can resolve this matter. His name is Luo Gongyuan—he is my elder brother.” The man immediately invited him to meet. After the tea ceremony, he asked where the true immortal was. Upon learning the details, he wrote a letter inviting Luo Gongyuan to come down from the mountain and meet him at his residence. When Prime Minister Cui saw Luo Gongyuan, he indeed found him extraordinary in appearance. He led him to the study, where he met the woman. Luo Gongyuan advised her, “Look at me and release Lord Cui.” But she refused to comply. After repeated attempts to persuade her failed, he began to use magic. Suddenly, a strange wind arose—wind that swept through the greenery and red clothes, blowing from north to south, then east to west. It made the willow leaves bloom in spring and the parasol trees shed their leaves in autumn. Coolness entered the wealthy homes while cold spread through the poor alleys. It sounded like drumbeats shaking the earth and thunder rumbling across the clear sky. It cleared the dust from the world, bringing light where darkness once reigned.

After the wind passed, two Taoist apprentices were sent. One held a demon-binding rope, while the other carried a black staff. Luo Gongyuan ordered the apprentices to capture the woman. When she saw them coming, she cried out for Ban Da. Ban Da appeared out of thin air, angrily raising his fists to confront them. Evil cannot overcome good, so the two apprentices first tied Ban Da up with the rope, then the woman in the red dress. They ordered her to reveal her true form. Ban Da turned into a giant insect, while the woman became a red rabbit. She said, “I am the Skull God—a general from the Jin dynasty who died and was buried on Ding Mountain. Over time, I transformed into a monster.” Luo Gongyuan defeated these three monsters and saved Lord Cui’s life. Since then, Ding Mountain has been peaceful. This story is known as “The New Luo White Eagle” or “The Three Monsters of Ding Mountain.” Here’s a poem to prove it:

Tiger slaves, rabbit women, and living skulls—all cause trouble atop the mountain.
But since the true immortal resolved it, travelers say there’s no more worry.

Volume 20: The Gold Eel Incident Causes Trouble

All day long I was in a daze, lost in dreams; suddenly, hearing spring was over, I forced myself to climb the mountain. Passing by a bamboo courtyard, I met a monk and had a chat, gaining another half day of leisure in this fleeting life.

It is said that during the reign of Emperor Huizong of the Song Dynasty, there was an official named Ji An who worked as a prison warden at the Northern Ministry. He lived with only his wife. One day, while off duty at home and facing the heat with nothing to do, he prepared a fishing rod and headed to Jinming Lake to fish. After fishing all day with no catch, Ji An grew impatient and was about to pack up and go back when he felt something float up from the water. He thought it was nice but didn’t know its value. “Where can I get money for this?” he wondered. He put the rod back in the basket and set off home. As he walked, he heard someone calling his name, “Ji An!” When he turned around, there was no one. He called again, “Ji An, I am the ruler of Jinming Lake. If you release me, I will make you incredibly rich; if you harm me, I will ensure your entire family dies a violent death.” Listening carefully, he realized the voice came from inside the fish basket. Ji An said, “Don’t be silly!” and continued on without further words.

When he got home, he put down the rod and basket. His wife said, “Husband, go quickly to the hall—the marshal’s messenger has come to call you twice. I don’t know what it is, but go and find out.” Ji An replied, “Today is my day off from work. Why would they call me?” Before he could finish speaking, another messenger arrived, saying, “Prison warden, the marshal is waiting for you.” Ji An hurriedly changed his clothes and went to handle official matters. After finishing, he returned home, took off his clothes, and asked for food to be prepared. His wife placed something in front of him. Upon seeing it, Ji An was shocked and cried out in pain, not knowing what to do. “My life is ruined!” his wife was also surprised and asked, “What’s wrong? Why are you crying so much?” Ji An then recounted his fishing experience earlier that day, saying, “It was a golden eel. It said, ‘I am the ruler of Jinming Lake. If you release me, you’ll become extremely rich; if you harm me, I’ll make your whole family die a violent death.’ How could you harm it? My life is indeed ruined!” His wife spat and said, “Nonsense! Golden eels can talk too! I saw no food, so I prepared something for it to eat. Since there’s nothing else, I ate it myself.” Ji An remained troubled.

That evening, the couple undressed and went to bed. Seeing his distress, his wife stayed by his side to comfort him. From that night on, she became pregnant. Her brows drooped, her eyes looked dull, her belly swelled, and her breasts grew larger. Soon, ten months passed. At the time of childbirth, she called a midwife, who delivered a girl. Just as the saying goes: Wild flowers bloom every year without being planted; worries arise daily with no cause.

The prison warden saw this and the couple was overjoyed. They named the girl Qingnu.

Time flew like an arrow. In the blink of an eye, the girl reached the age of twenty-eight and grew into a woman with a graceful figure. She was clever and intelligent, and had acquired various skills. Her parents cherished her as if she were their very life. During the Jingkang year of Bingwu, chaos ensued among the soldiers and officials. Thus, Ji An, his wife, and daughter packed up their belongings and wandered to the provincial capital. Later, they learned that the imperial court had moved to Hangzhou, and the officials followed there as well. Ji An then set off on a long journey toward Lin’an. After a day or two, the family entered the city, found temporary shelter, and began looking for work. Since the officials were present there every day, it wasn’t difficult for them to find employment in the government offices. Ji An arranged for a place where his family could live. After a few days, Ji An said to his wife, “When I return next time, if I don’t find some way to make a living, we’ll run out of money. We need to find some means of support.” His wife replied, “I’ve been thinking the same. If there’s nothing else to do, the best option is to open a tavern. Even when you were away, I and the children sold goods at home.” Ji An agreed, saying, “You’re right; it’s exactly what I was thinking.” He then set about arranging this.

The next day, he went to find someone to measure wine. It was a man from outside who had grown up in Lin’an, living off charity. He had no parents and was alone. His surname was Zhou, and his name was De; he was the third son in his family. They chose an auspicious day and time to open the tavern. Zhou San started selling fruits in front of the shop and preparing simple soups. In the evenings, he would stay at Ji An’s house. When Ji An wasn’t home, the mother and daughter would sell goods by themselves. Zhou San worked hard and was never lazy. Before long, several months passed. One morning, Ji An said to his wife, “I have something to tell you. Don’t get angry with me.” His wife asked, “What is it? Just speak.” Ji An replied, “These past few days, I’ve noticed that Qing Nu no longer looks like the girl she used to be.” His wife said, “I haven’t let her go out day or night. There must be no reason for her to change like this!” Ji An insisted, “Don’t downplay it! I saw her exchanging glances with Zhou San.” No further words were exchanged that day. One day, when Ji An wasn’t home, the mother called Qing Nu over and said, “My child, I have something to tell you. Don’t hide anything from me.” Qing Nu replied, “There’s nothing.” The mother then said, “These past few days, I’ve noticed that your appearance has become rough and unattractive. Tell me the truth.” Qing Nu refused to speak. Seeing that the girl was inconsistent in her answers, acting nervously and with her face turning red and blue, the mother realized there must be some secret. She grabbed Qing Nu and searched her body. Qing Nu only sighed and cried out in pain, slapping herself and blaming the girl, asking, “Who has corrupted you?” Unable to withstand the beating, Qing Nu cried and confessed, “I have an affair with Zhou San.” Hearing this, the mother was terrified and dared not make a sound. She clenched her feet and kept crying, wondering what to do. “What kind of scheme is this? When your father returns, I must say I was just taking care of things at home, pretending everything was normal!” Unaware of all these events, Zhou San continued selling wine in front of the shop.

By evening, Ji An returned to rest and arranged some food to eat. His wife said, “I have something to tell you. Just as you predicted, that girl’s body was ruined by that wretch Zhou San.” When Ji An heard this, he thought everything was over; but upon hearing it, anger surged in his heart and hatred filled his soul, and he wanted to beat Zhou San. His wife stopped him, saying, “Let’s discuss it first. If we beat him, our family will be in trouble!” Ji An said, “I had hoped to send that wench to an official’s household, but she did such a thing. If I can’t keep her, I’ll just beat her to death.” His wife tried to persuade him repeatedly for an hour. Once his anger subsided slightly, he asked how to resolve this matter. His wife calmly came up with a plan, which was: “The cicadas sense the golden wind blowing through the trees first; one never knows when death will come.”

His wife said, “There’s only one way to avoid trouble.” Ji An asked her to explain. She said, “That wretch Zhou San still works in our household. Why not marry him?” At that moment, they had no choice but to divorce their daughter and give her to Zhou San; otherwise, they would be laughed at and driven away. Unexpectedly, Ji An agreed to his wife’s suggestion and ordered Zhou San to leave that day. On the road, Zhou San thought, “This morning I saw that woman beating Qing Nu, and tonight she sent me away. Could it be that the secret has been revealed? If this gets out, I’ll end up in court. What should I do?” He didn’t know what to do. It’s like when crows and magpies travel together—good or bad luck is uncertain.

After that, someone from Ji An’s household went to arrange the marriage with Zhou San. Gifts were given, and a wedding date was set—no need to elaborate further.

Before long, Zhou San became part of the family, and more than a year passed. The couple got along well. They secretly planned to move out, as they were lazy and liked to sleep late at home. Zhou San behaved shamelessly. Ji An couldn’t stand it and constantly quarreled with him. He discussed with his wife the possibility of taking legal action to get a divorce. Previously, they were afraid of being laughed at, so they didn’t act; now, they decided to set a trap to catch Zhou San red-handed, start a fight, and file a lawsuit. Even the neighbors couldn’t stop them, and they finally got a divorce. Zhou San had no choice but to leave Ji An’s household and fend for himself. Qing Nu didn’t dare speak up, feeling troubled inside, facing a situation of separation and despair.

After half a year of being divorced, someone came looking for Ji An’s wife—a matchmaker. After meeting, she sat down and said, “I heard that your young lady is available for marriage, so I came here specially.”

An Dao said, “He’s quite intelligent; I hope you can arrange this marriage.” The old woman replied, “It’s none other than someone who holds an official position assigned by the Tiger Wing Camp. His surname is Qi and his name is Qing.” Upon hearing this, Ji An thought it was fate, so she agreed right away. She immediately issued a notice and offered him a few drinks as a welcome. The matchmaker then said, “The old woman has thought of everything! We must thank her when the marriage is settled.” After thanking her, the couple talked among themselves, saying, “It’s good—firstly, he holds an official position; secondly, he’s older, so he’s more mature; thirdly, that Zhou San won’t dare cause trouble now that she’s married to an official. I know this Qi Qing well—he’s quite capable.” They were pleased with the arrangement. After going through all the necessary procedures, the marriage was finalized.

As for Qing Nu and Qi Qing, they simply didn’t get along—two young people with mutual affection, but Qi Qing being older didn’t suit Qing Nu’s wishes. They argued constantly, with no peace for even a single day. Their parents, seeing that things weren’t working out, decided to divorce their daughter and sought help from officials, who issued a divorce decree based on the circumstances. Qi Qing, having no power, had to accept the divorce. When drunk, he would come to Ji An’s house and curse. One day, he uttered these words: “Mr. Zhang drinks wine while Mr. Li gets drunk; there’s a knife on the willow tree, and blood on the mulberry tree.” It was as if to say, “It’s easy to be obedient in a comfortable life, but when guests arrive at home, letters are sent.”

It’s likely all about fame and profit, left unopened on the bed.

Whenever Qi Qing got drunk, he would come and curse, but they didn’t dare argue back. At first, the neighbors tried to mediate. But later, when he came drunk, they ignored him as if it were normal. One day, Qi Qing pointed at Ji An and said, “Watch me kill you, you wretched dog!” Then he left. The neighbors all knew about this.

Meanwhile, Qing Nu stayed at home for another half year. One day, an old woman came to chat. Could it be to propose a marriage? After meeting and drinking tea, the old woman said, “I have something to discuss. I’m afraid Ji An might get anxious.” Ji An and her husband said, “Go ahead and speak.” The old woman continued, “Having seen that the marriage proposals failed twice, why not send the young lady to a good official’s household? She could go there every three or five years, and it wouldn’t be too late to arrange another marriage then.” Hearing this, Ji An thought to herself, “It’s good—firstly, those two proposals were just pretenses; secondly, we’ve wasted some money and resources. But whom should we marry her to?” She asked, “Old woman, do you have any good place in mind for my daughter?” The old woman replied, “There’s an official who wants the young lady. He specifically asked me to come and talk. He’s been to your house before and knows her. He’s the clerk of Gaoyou Army, and he’s here on official business with no one to accompany him. He just wants to take her back to his house. I don’t know if Ji An will agree or not.” After discussing it for a while, the couple said, “If it’s you who recommends it, we definitely won’t disappoint. Please arrange this marriage for us.” And so it was done that day.

They decided on a date through discussion and wrote it down. Then Qingnu bid farewell to her parents and went to serve that official. Fate decreed that they should be separated like husband and wife, unable to see each other. As the saying goes:
“Heaven is silent; where can one seek it?
It’s neither high nor far—it lies in people’s hearts.”

That official was the clerk of Gaoyou Army, with his family at home. He went to the capital to handle his duties. His surname was Li, and his name was Ziyu. Once he obtained Qingnu, they lived together as husband and wife. During the day it was the Cold Food Festival, and at night it was the middle of the first lunar month. Qingnu always had what she needed—clothes when she wanted them, food when she wanted it. A few months later, news came from the official’s family, urging him to return, fearing expenses in the capital. In just one day, everything was prepared: luggage was packed, servants were hired, and a boat was rented. They set off by water to return home. Along the way, they indulged in pleasure and wine, delaying their journey as much as possible.

When they finally arrived home, the real master and others welcomed them. The lady of the house came out to meet the official. The official simply bowed briefly and said, “It must not be easy for you to manage everything at home.” Then he asked Qingnu to come in and pay respects to the lady. Qingnu lowered her head, entered, and stood there ready to bow. But the lady said, “Don’t bow yet!” She then asked, “Who is this?” The official replied, “To be honest with you, with no one around in the capital, I brought her along as company. Today I’ve brought her to serve you.” When the lady saw Qingnu, she said, “You two seem very happy together! Why have you come here?” Qingnu replied, “I encountered hard times; please show mercy.” The lady then ordered two maids to come and remove Qingnu’s crown, take off her clothes, and dress her in coarse cloth. Her feet were tied, her hair was loose, and she was sent to the kitchen to fetch water, cook, and do chores. Qingnu cried out in pain, begging the lady, “Please consider my elderly parents back home. If you don’t want me, I’d rather receive compensation and return home.” The lady said, “If you want to leave, know this—first you must endure hardship in the kitchen. Your days of comfort are over now.” Qingnu looked at the official and said, “You brought me here, but now you treat me like this! Please speak on my behalf to the lady.” The official replied, “See what kind of person she is! Even the highest officials can’t change her mind. For now, there’s nothing you can do. My life is in danger too; I’ll speak to her when she calms down.” Immediately, Qingnu was taken to the kitchen. The official said, “If the lady doesn’t want her later, just send her back with compensation—why get angry?” The lady retorted, “How cheeky! Still talking nonsense!” From then on, she was forced to work in the kitchen until dawn.

One evening, the official went to the kitchen and heard someone calling out to him in the darkness. He recognized it as Qingnu’s voice. He approached, and the two hugged each other, crying silently, not daring to speak loudly. Then they said...

The man said, “I shouldn’t have brought you back and made you suffer like this!” Qingnu replied, “You just keep making me suffer here—when will it end?” The man pondered for a while before saying, “I have a way to save you. If I tell them, they’ll send you to the Ya family so that your ransom can be arranged. I’ll find a place for you to stay there secretly, and I’ll bring you money from time to time. Does that sound good?” Qingnu said, “If that’s possible, it would indeed be great! It would mean the disaster is passing away.” That night, the man couldn’t resist telling her about it: “Qingnu has suffered enough. If we no longer need her, we’ll send her to the Ya family to get her ransom paid.” Qingnu agreed, unaware of many details. The man sent one of his trusted men, named Zhang Bin, to handle this matter. He settled Qingnu in a house a street or two away from the main residence, keeping it secret from Qingnu’s master. The man would often come by, have a few drinks with her, and then inevitably engage in improper behavior.

In the mansion, there was a young boy named Folang, only six years old, who was very beloved. Sometimes he would go to play with Qingnu. His father would say, “Don’t tell your mother; she’s your sister.” The child would nod in agreement. One day, Folang came over and wanted to enter. Zhang Bin and Qingnu were sitting together drinking wine. When Folang saw them, he said, “I’ll tell my father.” Both of them quickly tried to hide, and Zhang Bin hurriedly left. Qingnu grabbed Folang and held him in her arms, saying, “Young master, don’t talk nonsense. Your sister is here drinking wine. When you come, I’ll give you some fruit to eat.” But Folang kept insisting, “I’ll tell my father what you and Zhang Bin are doing.” Hearing this, Qingnu thought to herself, “If you tell him, what will happen to us?” She then had an idea: “It’s better for you to suffer than for me. There’s no other choice—next year, on this day at this time, it will be your death day!” She grabbed Folang, threw him onto the bed, and strangled him. In less than half a bowl of rice’s worth of time, the little boy died. As the saying goes: “Time, like fire and wind, burns away even the heart’s warmth.”

After killing the little boy, how could she get out of this mess? Just as she was at a loss, Zhang Bin arrived. Qingnu said, “That wretch kept insisting on telling my father. In my panic, I strangled him.” Hearing this, Zhang Bin cried out in despair, “Sister, my family has an old mother—how can we get out of this?” Qingnu replied, “You told me to ruin him—how can I let him live? If your family has an old mother, I also have parents. Now that things have come to this, let’s pack our things and flee back to our hometown to see our parents. There’s no other way.” Zhang Bin had no choice but to agree. The two packed their things and fled.

Off he went. Unable to stay at home without seeing Fran, he went to Qingnu’s house and found that she and Zhang Bin had left; the child was strangled to death in bed. He filed a lawsuit and offered a reward for their capture—no problem at all.

Zhang Bin and Qingnu set off for Zhenjiang. Zhang Bin was preoccupied with his mother and thinking about this incident, which caused him to fall ill; he rested in an inn. In just over a day, all his personal belongings were used up. Zhang Bin said, “I don’t even have a single coin—how can I get by?” Tears streamed down his face as he said, “Just leave me to become a ghost of poverty!” Qingnu said, “Don’t worry; I have money.” Zhang Bin asked, “Where is it?” Qingnu replied, “I know how to sing well. It wouldn’t be shameful if I did that here. Why not buy a drum and go singing in various inns, earning a few coins to use? What do you think?” Zhang Bin said, “You’re from a good family—how can you do such things?” Qingnu said, “There’s no other choice. As long as you’re safe, I’ll go back to Lin’an with you to see my parents.” From then on, Qingnu worked hard in the inns of Zhenjiang.

Meanwhile, Zhou San, after getting divorced, couldn’t work as a broker anymore. He tried to seek help from relatives but was turned away. His clothes became soaked with sweat throughout the summer and were torn by autumn. When he returned to the capital, he passed by Ji An’s residence. It was deep autumn, and it was raining lightly. Ji An stood by the door. When Zhou San saw him, he bowed politely. Ji An recognized Zhou San but didn’t ask why he had come. Zhou San said, “I’m just passing by to see my father-in-law and sing a song for him.” Seeing Zhou San’s tattered clothes, Ji An felt pity and said, “Come in; have some wine first before you go.” He had no choice but to let him in, though it was extremely risky—letting him in for wine meant either death, which was too painful, or exile, which was too humiliating!

Ji An invited Zhou San inside. His wife asked, “Why did you bring him in without reason?” Zhou San greeted his mother-in-law and said, “It’s been a long time. Since I got divorced, I fell ill and couldn’t work as a broker. I tried to seek help from distant relatives but was rejected. How are you, sister?” Ji An replied, “Don’t mention it! Ever since you left, I’ve had no way out. For now, I’m working for some officials for a couple of years, and then I’ll figure something out.” She ordered her servant to bring some wine for Zhou San. After he drank it, there was nothing else to do, so Zhou San thanked her and left. It was already late, and it was raining lightly. Zhou San thought, “It’s my fault—they kept me for wine! It’s not that their home isn’t good; it’s all because of my own troubles.” He walked away, wondering, “What should I do now? It’s deep autumn—how will I get through this winter?”

Since ancient times, people have devised plans to survive, thinking thus: “It’s better to wait until nightfall, then pry open the gate of the guardhouse. That old couple goes to bed early and won’t be on guard. I can take some things and use them to get through the winter.” The road was quiet, not very busy. After returning and waiting for a while, he pried open the door and slipped in, closing it behind him. Listening carefully, he heard the guard’s wife say, “Is the door properly shut? There’s noise outside.” The guard replied, “It’s tightly locked.” His wife said, “It’s raining; I’m afraid something bad might happen. Let’s go check and be sure.” The guard indeed got up to look. Zhou San heard this and thought, “Damn it! If they get up and catch me, it won’t be good!” He went to the stove, grabbed a knife, and stood there in the darkness. The guard, unaware of what was happening, stepped out of the room. Zhou San let him take one step forward before slashing him from behind. Feeling the resistance, the guard fell to the ground, dead. Zhou San said, “There’s only that old woman left; I might as well kill her too.” Without making a sound, he went to the bed, lifted the curtain, and killed the guard’s wife. He lit a lamp and packed up all the valuables in the house. After a chaotic half night, Zhou San carried the packs and pulled the door shut, finally making his way out through the northern gate.

By now, dawn had broken, and people were opening their doors. The guardhouse was completely silent. Neighbors wondered, “Could they have been killed while sleeping?” They called out through the door but got no response. When they pushed the door, it opened easily. Inside, they saw the guard’s corpse lying on the floor. They called for the guard’s wife, but she didn’t respond either. Entering the room, they saw blood-soaked corpses on the bed, with all the chests open. Everyone said, “It must be Qi Qing! He used to come drunk every day, shouting insults, and we wanted to kill him. Today he actually did it!” They immediately sent someone to arrest Qi Qing. Unaware of what was happening, Qi Qing was tied up and taken to Lin’an Prefecture along with the neighbors. Upon hearing about the murder, the prefect summoned Qi Qing before him and asked, “How dare you commit murder and plunder within the city walls despite having official authority!” At first, Qi Qing tried to defend himself, but later, under the testimony of the neighbors about his abusive behavior, he had no chance to explain. The case was reported to the imperial court, which found Qi Qing guilty of murdering for wealth within the city walls. He was sentenced to be executed at the market square. As the sword fell, a gentle breeze blew, and blood covered the streets where the bodies lay.

Qi Qing had just received one strike. As for Zhou San, who had killed two people, how could he get away unscathed? There’s no justice in the world! How many times has heaven wronged anyone? It’s just that the time hasn’t come yet.

Zhou San continued on his journey until he reached Zhenjiang Prefecture, where he found an inn to stay at. With nothing to do, he went out for a walk and felt hungry, so he bought some wine to drink. At one shop’s entrance, he saw a sign that read: “Wine that awakens spring, summer, autumn, and winter; wine that makes people drunk in all directions.”

On Wednesday when she entered, the bartender greeted her. She asked about the liquor strength and had some vegetables served first. After drinking two cups, suddenly a woman appeared, wearing a gong on her head. Before entering the room, she said, “Greetings.” Zhou San looked up, and both of them were shocked—it was Qing Nu. Zhou San said, “Sister, how come you’re here?” She asked her to sit down. She told the server to bring another cup and then said, “Your family said they would sell you to an official, but what’s happening now?” Hearing this, Qing Nu shed tears. Then came soft words like those of a mandarin duck, followed by pearls falling like threads.

She said, “After being divorced, I couldn’t find a husband. Now I’ve been sold to the military clerk in Gaoyou. When I arrived there, his wife was jealous and made me do chores like lighting fires and fetching water for cooking—there are too many hardships to describe…” Zhou San asked, “How did you end up here?” Qing Nu replied, “To be honest, later I had an affair with the local officer’s subordinate. The young master saw us and wanted to tell his father, so they tried to kill me. With no other choice, I fled here. That man is now sick in the inn, so I’m trying to save some money. Today, fortune brought me to meet you. After drinking, I’ll go back to the inn with you.” Zhou San said, “He must be just like your husband; I can’t go.” Qing Nu replied, “It’s fine; I have my own ways.”

How could she let Zhou San go and risk ruining another person’s life? Here’s a poem to prove it:

At dusk, we meet in the fragrant pavilion;
A lifetime’s worries shared in one night.

Outside the window, the cold chicken flaps its wings;
Already, gratitude fades with the morning wind.

They went back to the inn together and talked heart to heart. At first, she had to buy medicine and cook porridge to take care of Zhang Bin. But after Zhou San arrived, she stopped caring about him—sometimes feeding him, sometimes not. Zhang Bin, seeing them living together openly at home, grew even sicker and eventually died. They had no choice but to buy a coffin to bury him. Zhou San moved back to the inn, and the two continued as husband and wife. Zhou San said, “I have something to say: you don’t need to go out and sing anymore; I’ll find a way to earn money for us.” Qing Nu replied, “Why say that? It was out of necessity that I did that.” From then on, their affection was like a phoenix flying high in the pale sky, or mandarin ducks resting neck to neck in the deep water.

They enjoyed each other’s company, wishing nights were longer;
In solitude, they regretted how long the nights stretched.

One day, Qing Nu said, “Since I left home, I’ve had no news. How about we go together to the capital and seek our parents?” — “The villain kills his own son.” Zhou San said, “That’s great!”

“I just can’t go back with you.” Qingnu asked, “Why?” Zhou San was about to speak but held back again.
If they didn’t say anything then, it would be fine; it wouldn’t work no matter what. But if they spoke, it would be like moths flying into fire—self-destructive. As the saying goes: Even beneath the flowers and leaves, thorns hide; how can one’s heart remain free of malice?

Qingnu insisted on getting detailed answers. Zhou San said, “To be honest, my parents were killed, and now I’m walking around here. How can I go back?” Hearing this, Qingnu burst into tears and clung to him, shouting, “How could you kill my parents?” Zhou San replied, “Stop! I shouldn’t have killed your parents, nor should you have killed the young master and Zhang Bin—we’re all doomed.” Qingnu pondered for a long time, unable to respond. In the blink of an eye, several months passed. Suddenly, Zhou San fell ill and couldn’t get out of bed. The money he had was also used up. Qingnu looked at Zhou San and said, “There’s no food or firewood at home—what shall we do? Don’t scold me. Use your wits as before and go sing to make some money. Once you recover, we’ll deal with it again.” With no other choice, Zhou San agreed. From then on, whenever she made some money singing, there were no complaints; but when she couldn’t earn enough, Zhou San would scold her, saying, “You must like men too much—go with them!” Without giving her a chance to explain, if she couldn’t earn money, Qingnu had to borrow some from the tavern owners and repay it once she did.

One day, during the deep winter, it started snowing. Qingnu stood on a high building, leaning on the railing. She saw three or four guests coming upstairs to drink. She thought, “It’s snowing heavily; I won’t have money to go back tonight, and that man will scold me again. Fortunately, those three or four guests are here to drink—I’ll try to sell myself to them.” She went to lift the curtain to show herself. She cried out, “Oh no!” It wasn’t anyone else but the guard stationed in the mansion. He called out, “Qingnu, how shameless! You’re here!” Frightened, Qingnu dared not make a sound. It turned out that the mansion had received word that she had passed through Zhenjiang, so they sent a guard to catch her. He asked, “Where is Zhang Bin?” Qingnu replied, “He’s sick and dead. I’m currently living in a shop with my first husband, Zhou San. That man killed my parents in Lin’an, and now I’ve run into him here—we live together.” They couldn’t even drink wine that day. Immediately, Qingnu was tied up, and Zhou San was dragged from his bed and tied as well. They were taken to the mansion for interrogation. Both admitted their crimes and reported them to the court. Qi Qing was executed separately due to his death. Zhou San was convicted of killing his father-in-law and mother-in-law for greed, and Qingnu was convicted of killing two people out of lust. They were both taken to the execution ground to be beheaded. As the saying goes:
“The crime precedes, and punishment follows. After this, when will there be a return? Open your eyes—today you realize that divine retribution is near.” Truly, “As long as one follows the teachings of the sages, one need not violate the laws.” These two were indeed...

There are criminal laws to deal with overt offenses, yet unseen spirits and gods watch over us. There’s no escaping this truth: Good and evil will eventually be rewarded, it’s only a matter of whether it happens sooner or later.

Later generations commented on this incident, saying that by locking up the golden eel, they had actually lured it out. At that time, the golden eel was in a bamboo basket, and it spoke, saying, “If you harm me, I will cause your entire family to die unjustly. It should only be the husband and wife who are punished for their crimes—why involve so many others like Zhou San, Zhang Bin, Qi Qing, and many more? It seems these people were also part of this fate; they must have been spirits involved in this case, using the golden eel as a pretext. Even the words spoken by the golden eel, under Jin Mingchi’s control, remain uncertain—still, they are signs of evil. Since Ji An knew something was unusual about it, he shouldn’t have taken it home, thus causing its death. In general, one should not harm anything that is abnormal. As the poem goes: Li saved the red snake and gained a beautiful sister; Sun cured the dragon’s son and obtained a rare book.”

I advise you not to harm things that are extraordinary—good and bad deeds will surely be rewarded in the afterlife.

Volume 21: Emperor Taizu of Zhao Sends His Daughter Thousands of Miles

Rabbits run fast and crows fly swiftly; all worldly affairs over the centuries remain vague. Prosperity and wealth are but dreams at midnight; emperors throughout history are like pieces in a game. Yu unified the nine provinces, Tang received his legacy, Qin conquered the six states, and Han ascended to the throne. A hundred years pass in little time; still, one spends day and night in indulgence.

It is said that toward the end of the Zhao Song dynasty, there was a hermit on Shishi Mountain in Hedong. He wouldn’t reveal his name, calling himself Old Man Shi. Some who knew him said he was originally a talented hero who, due to the chaos caused by the Hu Yuan rebels, tried to offer strategies to the military but was ignored. So he raised an army of his own and restored several provinces and counties. Later, seeing that the situation was worsening and realizing that the end was near, he disguised himself and hid in this mountain. He took the name of the mountain as his surname, supported himself through farming, and shunned the idea of seeking official positions. Sometimes he would discuss the rise and fall of past dynasties with great enthusiasm.

One day, two scholars, an elder and a younger man, were strolling around Shishi Mountain when they met the hermit. They casually talked about the founding of the Han, Tang, and Song dynasties. The hermit asked, “In what way is the Song dynasty better than the Han and Tang?” One scholar replied, “It emphasized culture over military power.” Another scholar said, “No dynasty ever executed its high officials.” The hermit laughed loudly and said, “Your views are not correct. The Han dynasty liked to wage wars against foreign tribes. Although scholars advocated for reducing military efforts, the barbarians feared them and acknowledged the Han’s strength. Even Emperor Wu of Wei relied on their might to subdue the Xiongnu. In the early Tang dynasty, the imperial army was at its strongest, but later it turned into regional warlords. Though they were rebellious and disobedient, they checked each other’s power, and ultimately the empire still relied on them. The Song dynasty preferred peace with the barbarians and was reluctant to use force. Later, they resorted to annual tributes as a means to avoid war. When the Jin and Yuan dynasties rose, the Song dynasty perished.”

It merely addresses the flaw of emphasizing military strength while neglecting cultural development. Not executing high-ranking officials may be in line with principles of loyalty and integrity, but tolerating those who seek power at all costs leads to mismanagement of the state. This allows villains to enjoy undeserved advantages when in power and face unforeseen disasters when removed from it. Throughout the Song dynasty, government affairs deteriorated due to such practices. As a result, by the end of the dynasty, the country was in dire straits, its rulers captured by enemies, and their bodies left unburied—wasn’t it too late? To claim that the Song dynasty was superior to the Han and Tang dynasties—is that really the case? The two scholars asked, “According to your view, what makes it superior?” The hermit replied, “Although it falls short of the Han and Tang dynasties in other aspects, it excels in not being greedy for women.” The two scholars asked, “How can we see that?” The hermit said, “Emperor Gaozu of Han was excessively infatuated with Concubine Qi, while Emperor Zong of Tang engaged in incestuous relations with his sister-in-law. The Lü and Wu families nearly brought the state to ruin, while Fei Yan and Yang Guifei dominated the imperial court. In the Song dynasty, although there were rulers who indulged in pleasure, none were known for lustful behavior. That’s why figures like Gao, Cao, Xiang, and Meng were renowned for their moral integrity—this far surpasses the Han and Tang dynasties.” The two scholars left in admiration. Truly, to understand the principles throughout history, one must consult those with wisdom and foresight.

It was said that the emperors of the Song dynasty were not greedy for women, thanks entirely to the wise strategies laid down by Emperor Taizu. Not only as an emperor later on, but even during his early years, he held lavish banquets sparingly and showed little favoritism toward women. Even before he rose to power, he was a man of integrity, acting with honesty and free from any corruption. This can be seen from the story of “Sending a Lady Thousands of Miles.” Truly:

Their loyalty endures through ages,
Their heroic spirit reaches the heavens.
A true ruler over eight hundred provinces,
Displaying his bravery with just a staff.

Regarding the chaotic period of the Five Dynasties, there are four lines of poetry:

Zhu, Li, Shi, Liu, Guo—
Liang, Tang, Jin, Han, Zhou...
Fifteen emperors in total,
Causing chaos for fifty years.

All these dynasties were regional powers, unable to unify the land. At that time, territories were divided, and the people had no stable rulers. Even in the Later Zhou dynasty, which marked the end of the Five Dynasties, there were still five kingdoms and three military regions. The five kingdoms were: Zhou under Guo Wei, Northern Han under Liu Chong, Southern Tang under Li Yu, Shu under Meng Chu, and Southern Han under Liu Ge. The three military regions were: Wu-Yue under Qian Chu, Jingnan under Gao Baorong, and Hunan under Zhou Xingfeng.

Although there were five kingdoms and three military regions, the Zhou dynasty, succeeding the Han, Tang, Jin, and Han dynasties, was considered the legitimate dynasty. Zhao Kuangyin, the founder of the Song dynasty, once served under the Zhou dynasty as the commander of the imperial guards. Later, due to the Chenqiao Mutiny, he replaced the Zhou dynasty and became emperor, unifying the country under the name Great Song. Before he rose to power, his father, Zhao Hongyin, had served under the Han dynasty as the governor of Yuezhou. People called him “Young Master Zhao” or “Big Brother Zhao.” He had a face as red as blood, eyes like morning stars, strength to match ten thousand men, and a spirit that could conquer the world. He enjoyed making friends with heroes from all over the land.

Angry, stepping in to help when injustice is seen—such a meddling fool who invites trouble upon himself. First, he caused chaos in the imperial brothel in Pei City, disrupted the imperial garden, offended Emperor Han Wei, and fled into exile. In Guanxi, he killed Dong Da by the bridge and obtained the famous horse Chi Tian Lin. In Huangzhou, he defeated Song Hu; in Shuozhou, he beat Li Ziying to death with three blows; and in Luzhou, he wiped out the entire family of Wang Lijianchao. When he arrived in Taiyuan, he met his uncle Zhao Jingqing. At that time, Jingqing was a monk at Qingyou Temple, so he let the young man stay there. Unbeknownst to him, the young man fell ill and lay bedridden for three months. Once recovered, Jingqing accompanied him day and night, urging him to rest and not go out wandering.

One day, Jingqing had to leave and instructed the young man, “Niece, please sit quietly for a while. Since your illness has slightly improved, do not move around!” After Jingqing left, the young man couldn’t sit still. He thought, “Even if I don’t wander around the neighborhood, it’s fine to take a walk around this temple.” He closed the door to his room and wandered through the temple. First, he went to the Hall of the Three Pure Ones, then walked through the east and west corridors and the seventy-two departments. He also visited the Temple of Mount East and then went to Jiani Hall, sighing deeply. Truly, “The golden furnace keeps its fire burning for a thousand years; the jade lamp shines brightly for ten thousand years.”

After passing by the Multi-Scenic Tower and the Jade Emperor Pavilion, he saw magnificent halls everywhere. The young man marveled at how splendid Qingyou Temple was—there was never enough to see or enjoy. Everywhere he turned, it seemed like a place of tranquility, but then he saw a small hall right opposite the Ancestors’ Palace, marked as the “Hall of Subduing Demons.” Its door was tightly shut.

The young man looked around once more and was about to turn away when he suddenly heard crying—female voices. He listened carefully; the sound came from inside the hall. He thought, “What kind of trick is this? This is a place for monks—why hide a woman here? There must be something suspicious going on. I’ll go ask the temple boy for the key to open this hall and find out what’s going on, so I can feel at ease.” He returned to his room and asked the temple boy for the key to the Hall of Subduing Demons. The temple boy replied, “The master keeps that key himself. It contains important secrets, and outsiders are not allowed to enter.” The young man thought, “Don’t trust those who seem honest; always be wary of those who are unkind! So my uncle isn’t a good person after all. He kept telling me to sit quietly and not go outside—turns out he was up to such things. What kind of discipline do monks follow? I’ll open that door today. What’s there to fear?”

Just as he was about to move, Zhao Jingqing returned. The young man greeted him angrily, not even calling him uncle, and demanded angrily, “What good has it done you to become a monk here?” Caught off guard, Jingqing said, “I haven’t done anything.” The young man asked, “Who is locked up in the Hall of Subduing Demons?” Only then did Jingqing realize what was happening. He waved his hand and said, “Dear niece, don’t meddle in other people’s affairs!” The young man became furious and shouted loudly.

He cried out, “Monks live a life of purity and inaction, untouched by the worldly dust. Why is there a woman locked inside the hall, crying and wailing? It must be some immoral act! You too should use your conscience. Either admit it or explain clearly—there’s still room for negotiation. Don’t try to deceive me; I, Zhao, am not someone who will blend in with you!” Seeing his stern words, Jing Qing said, “Dear niece, you’re wronging your foolish uncle!” Gong Yu replied, “Whether it’s a mistake or not is unimportant. Tell me, is there indeed a woman inside the hall?” Jing Qing answered, “Yes.” The young man said, “Again?” Knowing Gong Yu’s impatient nature, Jing Qing didn’t dare to speak outright and replied cautiously, “Although there is a woman, it has nothing to do with the affairs of our monks.” The young man said, “As the head of this monastery, even if someone else commits a crime and hides her there, you must be aware of it.” Jing Qing said, “Dear niece, calm down. This girl was brought here by two notorious bandits from somewhere unknown. A month ago, they entrusted us to take good care of her; if anything goes wrong, they vowed to destroy us completely. Since you were still ill, I didn’t tell you.” The young man asked, “Where are those bandits?” Jing Qing replied, “They’ve gone there for now.” Gong Yu refused to believe it and said, “How can that be! Quickly open the door of the hall and bring the girl out so I can interrogate her thoroughly.” With that, he took up his iron staff and stepped forward.

Jing Qing knew his temper was like wildfire and it was better not to resist. She hurriedly fetched the key and followed him to the Hall of Subduing Demons. Jing Qing unlocked the door from outside, while the woman inside heard the lock turning and thought strong men had arrived, so she cried even more. The young man didn’t hesitate; as soon as the door opened, he stepped in. The woman hid behind a statue, curled up in fear. The young man approached, put down his staff, and saw that the woman was indeed beautiful: her brows resembled spring mountains, her eyes like autumn waters. Full of sorrow and resentment, she looked like Xi Shi holding her heart; on the verge of crying, she resembled Yang Fei cutting her hair. Without the sound of a pipa, she was like a beauty who hadn’t left the border; if her melodies were harmonious, she would clearly be a Cai woman forcibly married to a barbarian. She possessed a natural grace that even paintings couldn’t truly capture.

The young man comforted her, “Young lady, I’m not like those vile perverts. Don’t be frightened. Tell me where you come from and who brought you here. If anything is unfair, I, Zhao, will help you.” The woman then raised her sleeve to wipe her tears and bowed deeply. The young man returned the bow. She first asked, “What’s your honorable name?” Jing Qing replied, “I’m Gong Yu from Pei City.” The woman said, “I hear you, sir!” Before she could say another word, she burst into tears again.

It turned out that the woman also went by the surname Zhao, with the childhood name Jing Niang. She lived in Xiaoxiang Village, Jieliang County, Puzhou, and was only sixteen years old. She had come with her father to Yangqu County to fulfill a vow at Mount Beiyue when they encountered two notorious bandits: one named Zhang Guang’er, known as “Flying All Over the Sky,” and the other named Zhou Jin, called “Rolling on the Ground.” Seeing Jing Niang’s beauty, they spared her father...

They took the girl’s life and kidnapped her to the Mountain God Temple. Zhang Zhou Er and the strongman both wanted to marry her and refused to give in to each other. After discussing it for two or three days, fearing that their friendship would be ruined, they left the girl at the Demon Subduing Hall of Qingyou Temple. They instructed the monk to take good care of her and watch over her, then go elsewhere to find another beautiful woman, kidnap her as well, so that they could have a pair together and marry on the same day, making her the mistress of the stronghold. The strongman left for a month yet has not returned. Afraid of him, the monk had no choice but to watch over her.

After the girl explained her situation, Young Master Zhao said to Jing Qing, “I was quite rude just now; I almost offended my uncle. Since this girl is a proper young lady who was kidnapped unjustly by a strongman, if I don’t save her today, who else will?” He then said to the girl, “Don’t be sad, young lady. With me here, I’ll ensure you return to your hometown and see your mother again.” The girl replied, “Though I appreciate your kindness in freeing me from this dangerous place, my home is thousands of miles away. As a lone woman, how can I make such a long journey?” The young master said, “If we’re going to save someone, we must do it thoroughly. I’ll travel thousands of miles to send you back personally.” The girl thanked him, saying, “If you do this for me, you’d be like parents to me.”

Jing Qing said, “Dear niece, this absolutely cannot be done. That strongman is very powerful, and the authorities can’t arrest him. If you save this girl today, the person in charge will surely blame you; when they come to ask me for her, how can I deal with that? It will get me involved too!” The young master laughed and said, “It’s easy to be bold out there, but hard to move forward carefully. I, Zhao, always stand up for what’s right and fear no one. Even though that bandit is fierce, can he compare to King Lu of Luzhou? He must also have ears and know my name. Since you monks are afraid of trouble, I’ll leave a mark here so you can inform that bandit.” With that, he picked up his iron staff, stood sideways, and struck the red tung wood window in the hall with force. With a loud crack, all the lattice windows were shattered. He struck again, knocking the four pillars askew. The girl hid far away, trembling with fear. Jing Qing’s face turned pale as he kept repeating, “Sin!” The young master said, “If that strongman comes again, just say that I broke open the temple door and took her away. Everyone has their own faults and debts. If he comes to look for me, tell him to come all the way from Puzhou.”

Jing Qing said, “Puzhou is thousands of miles away. There are thieves along the road. It’s difficult even for a single rider, let alone with a young lady to accompany him. We must think carefully before acting!” The young master laughed and said, “During the Three Kingdoms period, Guan Yu traveled a thousand miles alone, defeated six generals at five passes, and protected two imperial sisters until he met Uncle Liu in Gucheng. That’s what a true man does. If I can’t even save a single young lady today, what kind of person am I then? If we encounter that enemy on the road, let them both die.” Jing Qing said, “But still…”

There’s another theory. In ancient times, men and women did not sit at the same table or share utensils. It’s a kind gesture for a noble niece to accompany a young lady over a long distance, but how can others know the true intentions behind it? If young men and women travel together, suspicions may arise and they could become the subject of gossip. Wouldn’t that be regrettable? Isn’t it better to follow the ways of a true hero?” The young man laughed heartily and said, “Uncle, don’t blame me for speaking up. You monks are always full of pretense, being inconsistent inside and out. As real heroes, we only care about whether we can overcome our opponents in battle; we don’t mind what others say.” Seeing that he had made up his mind, Jing Qing asked, “When will your niece set off?” The young man replied, “Early tomorrow morning.” Jing Qing said, “I’m afraid your niece isn’t yet strong enough.” The young man said, “That doesn’t matter.” Jing Qing instructed the servant to prepare wine for the farewell. At the banquet, the young man said to Jing Niang, “Young lady, earlier my uncle mentioned that there might be suspicions along the way and rumors could arise. So, I take this opportunity to declare us brothers and sisters. My surname is Zhao, and yours is also Zhao—after five hundred years, we’ll be one family. From now on, let’s call each other brother and sister.” Jing Niang replied, “Sir, how dare I elevate myself above you?” Jing Qing said, “Since we’re traveling together, this is the best arrangement.” He called the servant to bring a kneeling mat, and Jing Niang asked her benefactor to kneel first, saying, “Allow your humble servant to pay you respects.” The young man bowed in return. Jing Niang then bowed to Jing Qing, addressing him as uncle. At the banquet, Jing Qing told many stories about his niece’s heroic deeds, filling Jing Niang with joy. They drank all night until late, after which Jing Qing offered his own room for Jing Niang to sleep, while he and the young man stayed in the outer room.

At dawn, Jing Qing got up to prepare breakfast and also packed some dried food and beef jerky for the journey. The young man tied up his luggage and instructed Jing Niang, “Sister, dress simply as a village girl—don’t wear fancy clothes that might attract trouble.” After breakfast, the young man dressed as a traveler, and Jing Niang dressed as a village girl; both wore snow caps that covered their eyebrows. The brother and sister bid farewell to Jing Qing. As Jing Qing escorted them to the door, he suddenly remembered something and said, “Niece, if you can’t leave today, we still need to discuss it.” What could Jing Qing have said? As the saying goes: “A magpie needs feathers to fly far; a tiger needs teeth and claws to move forward.”

Jing Qing said, “One horse can’t carry two people. This young lady has small shoes and socks—how can she keep up? Won’t that delay our journey? Wouldn’t it be better to find a cart to go together?” The young man replied, “We’ve thought about this for a long time. A cart requires extra care. I’ll let the sister ride this horse. I swear I’ll walk a thousand miles to accompany her without hesitation.” Jing Niang said, “Your humble servant feels ashamed to burden you with such a long journey. As a woman, I can’t even hold the reins—how dare I take the honored horse? I absolutely refuse!” The young man insisted, “You’re a woman, so you must rely on your feet. My feet aren’t small either, so walking is perfect for me.” After much refusal, the young man wouldn’t listen, so she had no choice but to get on the horse. The young man put on his sword and carried an iron staff, then bowed to Jing Qing before leaving. Jing Qing said, “Niece, be careful on the road. Be wary of bandits—be thorough in defending yourself. Don’t let anyone hold you back.”

“I see someone outside.” The young master said, “It’s fine, no problem.” With that, he slapped the horse’s tail and shouted, “Go!” The horse rushed off at full speed, and the young master followed closely behind on foot.

Along the way, they had to stop for food and water, resting at night and traveling in the morning. In just one day, they reached the area of Jiexiu County in Fenzhou. That red-hued horse was originally a swift steed capable of racing against the wind and lightning; from Qingyou Temple to Fenzhou, it was only about three hundred li, so such a fast horse wouldn’t need even half a day to cover the distance. First, the young master feared he might not be able to keep up if he continued on foot; second, a lady like Jingniang wasn’t used to riding fast, so they moved slowly. Additionally, bandits were common along the road, so they had to travel slowly and rest early, covering only a little over a hundred li per day.

That day, they arrived at a place at the foot of a hill, called Huangmao Inn. There used to be a village there, but due to chaos and disorder, everyone had fled, leaving only a small inn standing. As dusk approached and the road ahead was desolate, the young master said to Jingniang, “Let’s rest here and set off early tomorrow.” Jingniang replied, “As you wish.” The innkeeper took their luggage, and Jingniang dismounted and removed her snow hat. The innkeeper took one look at her and stuck out his tongue three inches long, unable to pull it back. He thought to himself, “How can there be such a beautiful woman?” He led the horse behind the house, while the young master invited Jingniang inside to sit down. The innkeeper’s son came over and stared blankly. The young master asked, “What do you have to say, young man?” The innkeeper replied, “Who is this young lady? Is she your guest?” The young master said, “She’s my sister.” The innkeeper said, “Sir, I’m not being rude, but with all these mountains and rivers, you shouldn’t be traveling with such a beautiful woman!” The young master asked, “Why not?” The innkeeper replied, “Fifteen li from here lies Jieshan—a sparsely populated area where bandits roam. If those villains find out, you’ll end up giving her to them as their wife, and they’ll even demand a ransom.” The young master flew into a rage and cursed, “You cowardly dog! How dare you speak falsely to my guest!” Then he punched the innkeeper right in the face. The innkeeper spat blood, covered his face with his hand, and rushed away. The innkeeper’s wife spoke from behind the kitchen. Jingniang said, “Brother, you’re a bit too impatient.” The young master replied, “This guy doesn’t know when to shut up; he surely isn’t a good person! Let me show him what I’m capable of.” Jingniang said, “Since we’re staying here, we can’t afford to offend him.” The young master asked, “What’s there to fear?” Jingniang went to the kitchen and spoke kindly to the innkeeper’s wife for a while before she calmed down and started preparing food.

Jingniang returned to her room. There was still some light on the steps, as the lamp hadn’t been lit yet. The young master was sitting there talking with Jingniang when suddenly someone came in and peeked at the door. The young master shouted, “Who dares to spy on us?” The man said, “I just came to chat with the innkeeper’s son; it has nothing to do with you.” After saying that, he went to the kitchen and whispered something to the innkeeper’s wife before leaving. The young master watched it all.

He had already harbored some suspicion. The lights were on, but the waiter didn’t respond. The innkeeper brought the meal to their room. The brother and sister had dinner, and Gong Yu instructed Jing Niang to close the door and go to bed first. He himself carried a sword and staff, walking around the house. Around the second watch of the night, they heard cries and kicking sounds coming from beneath the grass hut behind them. It was late October, and the moon had just risen. The young man quietly approached to take a look and saw a man knocked to the ground by a horse. Seeing someone coming, the man struggled to get up and ran away. The young man realized it was a horse thief. He chased after him for several miles, but when he turned past the Slippery Water Bridge, the man was gone. On the other side of the bridge, there was a small hut with bright lights inside. The young man suspected the man was hiding there. When he went in, he saw an old man with white beard sitting on the upper bed, reciting scriptures. His eyes were like mist, his beard like frost, his eyebrows like willow fluff, and his face had the color of peach blossoms. If not a celestial being, he must be a hermit in the mountains. When the old man saw the young man enter, he hurriedly got up and bowed. The young man returned the bow and asked, “What scripture are you reciting?” The old man replied, “The ‘Scripture of the Heavenly Emperor’s Relief of Suffering’.” The young man asked, “What’s the benefit of reciting it?” The old man said, “I see the world in chaos, and I hope a benevolent emperor will emerge soon to put an end to the turmoil and save the people from misery.” Hearing this, the young man felt it matched his own plans and was pleased. He then asked, “There are many thieves in this area. Do you know where they are?” The old man asked, “Are you perhaps the same woman on horseback who stayed at the thatched inn at the foot of the slope?” The young man confirmed it. The old man said, “I’m glad I met you; otherwise, you might have been frightened.” The young man asked why. The old man invited him to sit down and explained, “Two strong men have emerged in this region, gathering followers to rob houses and cause trouble in the Fenlu area. One is called Zhang Guang’er, who can fly everywhere, and the other is Zhou Jin, who can roll wherever he goes. In the past half month, they’ve stolen a woman somewhere. They’re arguing over who should marry her, so they’ve stayed elsewhere until they find another woman to marry. All the inns along the way have been instructed by these men. If they find a beautiful woman, they report it immediately and receive a generous reward. When you arrived tonight, the waiter went to inform Zhou Jin. He sent Yao Wang to scout first, saying, ‘Not only is the woman beautiful, but she also rides a fine horse. A single traveler isn’t a threat.’ There’s also Chen Ming, who can travel a thousand li in a day—the fastest runner. The thieves sent him to steal the horse first. The rest of the bandits are camped under the Red Pine Forest, waiting for you to pass by at dawn to carry out their robbery. You must be careful.’” The young man said, “I see. How do you know all this?” The old man replied, “I’ve lived here for a long time and know everything that happens. Please don’t reveal my identity to the thieves.” The young man thanked him and stood up. Walking back in the light, he found the door still slightly open and slipped inside.

Meanwhile, the waiter returned home to assist Chen Ming in stealing a horse. He was talking with his wife in the room. His wife brought him warm wine to drink. When she saw the young man enter, she hid behind the lamp. The young man came up with a plan and asked the innkeeper’s wife for some wine. The woman took an empty pot and filled it with wine from the jug by the door. Suddenly, the young man struck him on the back of the head with an iron rod, knocking him to the ground; the pot also fell to the side. Hearing the old man cry out in pain, the waiter also rushed out of the room with a knife. But the young man, being more experienced, struck him down with his rod. Two more blows ended the old man’s life. The woman was terrified and couldn’t help in time. The young man then recounted what the old man had said. She turned pale with fear and said, “If it’s so difficult to proceed, what shall we do?” The young man replied, “Don’t worry, I’m here—be at ease.” He pushed open the main door, heated some wine in the kitchen, drank until he was half drunk, prepared the horse, covered its mouth with a cloth to silence it, tied everything up, dragged the two corpses to the pile of firewood in the kitchen, and set fire to it. He also set fire to both the front and back doors. Once the fire grew strong, he led the woman onto the horse and set off.

By then, dawn was approaching. As they passed by Liushui Bridge, they wanted to ask the old man for directions again, but the room where he recited scriptures was gone. All that remained was a small temple built with earth walls, about three feet high. Inside the temple, a shrine god sat nearby. They realized that it was the shrine god who had guided them at night. The young man thought, “He called me a nobleman and saw that I didn’t dare sit upright—I must be someone special. If I succeed someday, I’ll bestow honors upon him.” He urged his horse forward. After traveling a few miles, he saw a pine forest that resembled flames in the sky. He shouted, “Sister, slow down! It seems we’re approaching the Red Pine Forest.” Before he could finish speaking, seven men emerged from the grass, armed with steel forks, and charged at the young man. The young man quickly raised his iron rod to defend himself. The men tried to lure him into the forest while fighting. Angered, the young man raised his rod and shouted, “Strike!” He split one of their skulls in half. That man was Yao Wang, also known as Wild Fire. The young man told the woman to hold the horse steady and said, “I’ll go into the forest and deal with those bandits before joining you.” She replied, “Be careful, brother!” The young man continued on his way. Truly, the holy emperor has the support of all spirits, while the great general commands respect in every direction.

In the Red Pine Forest, Zhou Jin was stationed with forty or fifty men. Hearing footsteps outside the forest, he thought it was Yao Wang sending a message, so he rushed out with his long spear, facing the young man head-on. Realizing it was a fierce opponent, the young man didn’t waste words and attacked with his rod. Zhou Jin fought back with his spear. After about twenty rounds of combat, the men inside the forest heard that Zhou Jin had an enemy and rushed forward, surrounding him completely. The young man said, “Those who are skilled, come forward!” With his iron rod, he moved like a golden dragon protecting his body and a jade python coiling around him, sweeping through his enemies like falling leaves.

The wind blew fiercely, scattering them like fallen flowers on the ground. They were driven apart in all directions. Zhou Jin grew terrified; his spearsmanship became chaotic, and he was knocked down by Gong Yu with one strike. The soldiers shouted and fled in panic. Gong Yu delivered another strike, ending Zhou Jin’s life. When he turned around, Jing Niang was no longer there. He searched frantically everywhere, but Jing Niang had already been surrounded by five or six soldiers and taken away into the Red Pine Forest. Gong Yu rushed after them, shouting, “Where are those thieves going?” Seeing the prince approaching, the soldiers abandoned Jing Niang and scattered. The prince said, “My dear sister must be frightened!” Jing Niang replied, “Just now, there were two men among those soldiers who had followed Xiang Ma to Qingyou Temple. They recognized me. They said, ‘King Zhou is fighting against this guest; it seems the guest can’t defeat him. We’ll take you to King Zhang first.’” The prince said, “That wretch Zhou Jin has been eliminated by me. I just don’t know where Zhang Guang’er is.” Jing Niang said, “It would be better if you never met him.” The prince urged his horse to move faster.

After traveling about forty miles, they arrived at a market town. The prince was hungry. He took hold of the reins, intending to help Jing Niang dismount and go into an inn. But all the innkeepers were busy preparing meals and didn’t even come to greet the travelers. Suspicious, and fearing trouble because of Jing Niang with him, he led his horse past the inns, only to find all doors closed. At the end of the street, there was a small house with its door also shut. Finding this strange, he knocked on the door, but no one answered. Turning behind the house, he tied his horse to a tree and gently knocked on the back door. An old woman opened the door and looked outside, looking very frightened. The prince hurriedly entered and bowed to her, saying, “Don’t be alarmed, old woman. I’m just a passing traveler with a lady with me. I’d like to borrow your fire to have some food before leaving.” The old woman made strange noises. Jing Niang also entered, and the old woman immediately closed the door. The prince asked, “Are those inns preparing a feast to welcome some official?” The old woman shook her head and said, “Traveler, don’t meddle in other people’s affairs.” The prince said, “What’s so wrong with asking? I’m a distant traveler. Please explain to me!” The old woman replied, “Today, the Great King is passing through here, so the villagers have gathered money to prepare food to ensure peace. My son has also been called by the inns to help.” Hearing this, the prince thought, “So that’s why. I might as well deal with them completely and put an end to the troubles at Qingyou Temple.” He said, “Old woman, this is my sister. She came here to fulfill a vow at Nan Yue Temple. She’s afraid of encountering bandits and getting scared. Could you please hide her for a while until the Great King passes by? I’ll surely thank you generously.” The old woman said, “It’s fine for a young lady to stay temporarily, but the traveler shouldn’t stick his head out and cause trouble!” The prince said, “I’m a man who knows how to handle things. I’ll go ask around along the road first.” The old woman warned, “Be careful! If you’re lucky, I’ll give you some hot water to drink. But there won’t be any food.”

The young master took his staff and went out through the back door, intending to ride a horse to meet them first. Suddenly he thought, “I once said ‘I can walk a thousand miles’ at Qingyou Temple. If I fear bandits with horses today, I’m not a true hero.” So he strode out quickly. Coming up with a plan, he returned to the inn and called out loudly, “The great king is arriving soon! I’m the one who prepares everything in advance. Have you finished serving food after they dismounted?” The innkeeper replied, “Everything’s done.” The young master said, “Prepare a meal for me first.” Under their pressure, who dared question whether he was genuine or not? They also had to make things convenient for him in front of the great king—providing rich food and hot drinks—and they hurriedly brought it out. The young master ate heartily, almost finishing nine-tenths of it when news spread outside that “the great king has arrived; quickly set up an altar!” Unperturbed, he took his protective dragon and went outside. There he saw more than a dozen pairs of spears, swords, sticks, and clubs leading the way. When they reached the inn door, they all knelt down.

Zhang Guang'er rode a tall, swift horse, with Chen Ming, known as “Thousand-Mile Walker,”紧 following behind with the whip. Behind them were thirty or fifty thugs, along with a dozen vehicles. You might wonder why Zhang Guang'er’s entourage was so well-organized for just two “great kings.” After all, there’s no fixed pattern for how strongmen move in and out; moreover, they didn’t care about lone travelers, so Zhou Jin underestimated them. Zhang Guang'er had been robbing along different routes, but Chen Ming reported, “The other great king has captured a beautiful woman; he’s asking her to meet him at Jieshan.” That’s why they came in an orderly procession, passing through villages and towns with a magnificent display of power. The young master hid beside the north wall, watching clearly. When the horses got close, he shouted, “Bandits, watch out for my staff!” He leaped out from among the crowd like an eagle diving from the sky. In the blink of an eye, the horse panicked and jumped forward. The staff struck hard, breaking one of its front hooves. The horse fell in pain, and Zhang Guang'er quickly jumped off. Chen Ming rushed forward with a stick, but was knocked over with a single strike by the young master. Zhang Guang'er swung his twin knives to fight against the young master. The young master stepped into an open area to face the thug head-on. After fighting for over ten rounds, Zhang Guang'er slashed with his knife, but the young master raised his stick and hit his finger. Losing control of his right hand, Zhang Guang'er felt weak in his left as well and retreated. The young master shouted, “You’re known as ‘Flying All Over the Sky’—today, I won’t let you fly away!” He stepped forward and swung his staff at the back of Zhang Guang'er’s head, turning him into minced meat. Pitifully, those two famous strongmen both died on the same day. Truly, “their souls drifted away like ‘Flying All Over the Sky,’ while their bodies rolled on the ground.”

The thugs tried to flee, but the young master shouted, “I’m Zhao Dalang from Peijing. I have a grudge against the bandits Zhang Guang'er and Zhou Jin. Today, I’ve eliminated them both; this has nothing to do with you people.” The thugs dropped their weapons and knelt down together, saying, “We’ve never seen a general as heroic as you. We’re willing to serve you as our leader.” The young master laughed heartily and said, “I don’t even desire noble titles in the court—how could I possibly become a bandit?” Seeing Chen Ming among the thugs, he called out and asked, “Was it you who stole the horse last night?”

“Is it you?” Chen Ming kowtowed in submission. The young master said, “Come with me; I’ll treat you to a meal.” Everyone followed him to the inn. The young master instructed the innkeeper, “Today, I’m going to rid your place of two evils. These are all honest people. The food prepared earlier should be given to them to eat their fill; I’ll take care of distributing it myself. Reserve a meal for Zhang Guang’er; I might need him later.” The innkeeper dared not refuse.

After everyone had eaten, the young master called Chen Ming and said, “I hear you can travel three hundred li a day and have useful skills. How did you end up with the bandits? I have a task for you today. Will you agree?” Chen Ming replied, “If the general has any assignment, I won’t shun danger.” The young master said, “I’m in the capital because I fought in the imperial garden and caused trouble at the imperial pavilion, so I fled here. Could you go to Bianjing to find out what’s going on? Within half a month, wait for me at Qingyou Temple under Zhao Zhiguan in Taiyuan Prefecture. Don’t break your promise!” The young master wrote a letter to his uncle Zhao Jingqing using pen and inkstone and gave it to Chen Ming. They divided the bandits’ vehicles and wealth into three parts. One part was given to the townspeople to compensate for the troubles they’d suffered before. The bodies of the killed bandits, along with their weapons, were left for the people to take back to their hometowns and request rewards from the officials. Another part was distributed among the followers as money for clothing and food, so they could go back to their lives. The final part was split into two halves: one half was given to Chen Ming as travel expenses, and the other half was sent to Qingyou Temple to repair the doors and windows of the Hall of Subduing Demons.

After making all these arrangements, everyone was grateful. The young master asked the innkeeper to bring a table of food to the old woman’s house. Her sons also came and met the young master and Jingniang. They told the old woman about how the evils had been eliminated, and everyone was happy. The young master said to Jingniang, “My brother hasn’t been able to act as a host throughout the journey. Today, I’m offering this as a token of gratitude to ease your worries. You don’t need to thank me repeatedly.”

That night, the young master gave the old woman ten taels of silver from his bag and stayed at her house. Jingniang thought of the young master’s kindness: “Even Hongfu, a prostitute, could choose her own hero. Not to mention feeling ashamed of not being able to repay such kindness—what else could I rely on for the rest of my life but this heroic man?” She wanted to offer herself, but was too shy to speak; if she stayed silent, he was such a straightforward man—how would he know her true feelings? After much deliberation, she stayed awake all night. Before long, the rooster crowed at dawn, and the young master got up, pretending to leave. Jingniang was upset. She came up with a plan—on the way, she pretended to have severe stomach pains and asked several times to relieve herself. She asked the young master to help her onto the horse and then off it again. With each movement, she pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, clinging tightly. During the night stay, she complained of being cold or hot, asking the young master to adjust the blankets and add clothes. With her softness and fragrance, how could he remain unmoved? The young master, being upright by nature, treated her with great kindness without finding it strange at all.

After another three days of travel, they passed through Quwo and were over three hundred li away from Puzhou. They spent the night in a deserted village. Jingniang remained silent, hesitating in her heart: Now that they were almost home, she kept being too shy to speak.

Missing this opportunity, once back home, the matter would be dropped, and it would be too late to regret it! After dusk, all was silent; the faint light flickered as Jingniang remained awake, sighing and weeping by the lamp. The young man asked, “Why are you unhappy, dear sister?” Jingniang replied, “I have something important to say, but I’m afraid it might seem presumptuous—please forgive me, kind sir!” The young man said, “What suspicion could there be between siblings? You may speak freely!” Jingniang continued, “I am a delicate maiden who has never left home. I was captured by bandits while accompanying my father on a pilgrimage and imprisoned in Qingyou Temple. It was only because of those bandits that I survived for a few days and was able to meet you. If those bandits had attacked me again, I would rather die than submit. Today, you have rescued me from suffering, traveled thousands of miles to see me off, and even avenged me, eliminating future threats. Your kindness is like having new parents—I cannot repay it enough. If you don’t mind my plain appearance, I would like to prepare a bed for you so that I can at least offer some small repayment. Will you agree?” The young man laughed heartily and said, “You’re mistaken, dear sister! We met by chance, and I saved you out of compassion, not because of your beauty. Besides, we share the same surname—marriage is impossible. As siblings, how could such things happen? I am a man of integrity like Liu Xia Hui; you shouldn’t imitate Wu Mengzi, who abandoned morals for lust! Stop speaking rashly and causing others to laugh.” Jingniang blushed with shame, remaining silent for a while before speaking again, “You think I talk too much, but I am not a vulgar woman. With my weak body, I owe everything to you—there’s nothing else I can offer in return. I dare not hope to marry you, but even if I could serve you as a servant for just one day, I would die satisfied.” The young man became furious and said, “I am a man of integrity who has lived a life of honesty—never corrupt. How dare you treat me as someone who expects repayment for his kindness, as some self-serving good Samaritan? If your evil intentions persist, I’ll stop helping you from now on—don’t blame me if things end here.” His voice was fierce. Jingniang bowed deeply and said, “Today I realize your virtue surpasses even that of Liu Xia Hui and Lu Mengzi. I am but a woman with limited understanding—please forgive me!” The young man calmed down and said, “Dear sister, it’s not that I’m stubborn. I came here out of loyalty. If I act out of personal feelings now, I’d be no different from those bandits. That would turn my sincere feelings into pretense, making a mockery of all honorable men.” Jingniang replied, “Your wisdom is great. If I can’t repay your kindness in this life, I’ll remember it until death.” They talked until dawn. It was truly like: “The fallen flowers wish to follow the flowing water, yet the water remains heartless toward them.”

From then on, Jingniang treated the young man with even greater respect, and he felt even more pity for her. They traveled in silence until they reached Puzhou. Although Jingniang lived in Xiaoyang Village, she didn’t recognize it. The young man asked for directions as they moved forward. From horseback, Jingniang saw the familiar surroundings and felt deeply sad.

Meanwhile, in Xiaoxiang Village, Master Zhao had been grieving for his daughter Jingniang for over two months since her disappearance. The old couple cried every day. Suddenly, a servant came to report that Jingniang had returned on horseback, followed by a burly man with a red face who carried a stick. Master Zhao said, “This is bad! It’s those bandits coming to claim my daughter!” His wife asked, “Are there only one bandit? Let our son Zhao Wen go and find out what’s going on.” Zhao Wen replied, “How could anyone return from the clutches of bandits unharmed? My sister was kidnapped by them—how could she be sent back? It must be someone who looks like her; it’s not really her.” Before he could finish speaking, Jingniang entered the main hall. Her parents embraced her and wept. After crying, they asked how she had been able to return. Jingniang explained that she had locked the bandits up at Qingyou Temple. Fortunately, Young Master Zhao happened to pass by and rescued her. They recognized each other as brothers and sisters, and he accompanied her all the way home, killing two of the bandits along the way. She then recounted everything in detail.

“Now that our savior is here, we must not neglect him,” said Master Zhao. He hurriedly left the hall, met Young Master Zhao, and thanked him, saying, “If not for your bravery, my daughter would have fallen into the hands of those bandits, and I would never have seen her again!” He then ordered his wife and Jingniang to thank Young Master Zhao as well, and called his son Zhao Wen to meet their savior. They slaughtered a pig and held a feast to entertain the young man.

Zhao Wen privately discussed this with his father, saying, “Good news doesn’t spread far, but bad news does. Our sister was kidnapped by strongmen, bringing misfortune to our family. Now she’s returning with this red-faced man. No one acts selflessly without gain. Surely this man has feelings for my sister. Why else would he bring her all this way? After going through so much, who would want to marry her? It would be better to take this man as a son-in-law, solving both problems and avoiding gossip.” Master Zhao was indecisive and easily swayed. After hearing his son’s words, he asked Jingniang to come and he said, “You’ve traveled thousands of miles with that young man—surely you’ve promised yourself to him. Now my brother wants to take you as his wife. What do you think?” Jingniang replied, “That young man is honest and selfless. He treated me like a real sibling, without any inappropriate remarks. I hope my parents will let him stay at home for ten or fifteen days so I can show my gratitude properly. This matter shouldn’t even be mentioned.” Her mother conveyed her words to Master Zhao, but he didn’t agree.

After a while, the feast was ready. Master Zhao invited the young man to sit at the head table, while the old couple sat beside him. Zhao Wen sat on the left, and Jingniang on the right. After several rounds of drinking, Master Zhao spoke up, saying, “I must confess something: My daughter’s remaining years are thanks to our savior. I am deeply grateful, but I don’t know how to repay you. Luckily, my daughter isn’t yet married. I want to give her to you as your concubine. Please don’t refuse.” Hearing this, the young man became furious and cursed, saying, “You old fool! I came here out of loyalty, yet you insult me with such words. If I were interested in women, I could have married her on the road—why bother traveling thousands of miles? You’re so ungrateful. All my efforts were wasted.” With that, he overturned the table and stormed out. Master Zhao…

The couple lived in fear. Seeing the young master’s rudeness, Zhao Wen didn’t dare to approach either. Only Jing Niang was extremely anxious; she rushed over, grabbed the young master’s clothes, and pleaded, “Please calm down, sir! At least consider my humble request.” But the young master refused, shook off Jing Niang’s grasp, ran to the willow tree, removed his red scales, mounted his saddle, and rode away at top speed.

Jing Niang collapsed in tears. Her parents persuaded her to return to her room and scolded their son, Zhao Wen. Embarrassed and angry, Zhao Wen also left the house. His wife, hearing her parents blaming her husband because of her sister-in-law, became very displeased. She tried to persuade them but instead spoke harshly to Jing Niang, saying, “Sister-in-law, although parting is painful, it’s also heartless for that man to come all this way just to leave suddenly. If he were a man of integrity, he would have gone through with the marriage. You’re young and beautiful; I’m afraid you won’t find a good match. Don’t worry too much!” This angered Jing Niang so much that she cried uncontrollably and was speechless. She thought to herself, “Because of my bad fortune, I was raped, but luckily a hero saved me. I hoped to entrust my life to him. Who would have thought things would turn out so badly, leading to such a scandal? Even my parents and siblings can’t understand me—let alone others. I can’t repay the kind man’s kindness; instead, I’ve tarnished his reputation. It’s all my fault. With such a miserable fate, it’s better to die in the Qingyou Temple, avoiding all these troubles and achieving purity. Now it’s too late for regrets. Even if I die a thousand times, death is still the only way to show my loyalty.” Late at night, when her parents fell asleep, Jing Niang took a pen, wrote four lines of poetry on the wall, mixed soil with incense, bowed to the young master four times toward the sky, and then hanged herself from the beam using her white silk robe.

Pitiful was this noble maiden, reduced to a mere dream.

When the old couple woke up in the morning and found their daughter missing from her room, they went in and saw her hanging from the beam. Shocked, they cried loudly. On the wall were the words of her poem: “Heaven gave me beauty, but no chance to shine; I suffered humiliation and oppression. Tonight, I die to repay the young master; may heaven and earth witness our mutual honor.”

Zhao’s mother untied her daughter, and soon her son and daughter-in-law arrived. Understanding the meaning of her poem, Zhao’s father realized how pure and virtuous his daughter had been. He scolded his son severely. Without delay, they bought a coffin and chose a place to bury her.

Meanwhile, the young master rode his red-scaled horse overnight to Taiyuan, where he met Zhao Zhiguan. It had already been three days since he set out. He reported that the last emperor of Han had died, Guo Linggong had abdicated, and the country’s name had been changed to Zhou.

Heroes of the world. Overjoyed, he stayed for several days, then bid farewell to Zhao Zhiguan and returned to Bianjing with Chen Ming, enlisting as a junior officer. From then on, he followed Emperor Shizong on campaigns north and south, earning promotions until he became the commander in chief of the imperial troops. Later, when Zhou abdicated in favor of him, he became the founding emperor of the Song dynasty. Chen Ming, who had also contributed greatly, was promoted to the position of military governor. After the emperor ascended the throne, he conquered the Northern Han. Remembering the brotherly bond he once shared with Jingniang, he sent people to Jieliang County in Puzhou to search for news of her. The messengers returned with a poem written by her in prison. The emperor was deeply moved and conferred upon her the title of Lady of Chastity and Righteousness, building a shrine in Xiaoxiang Village. As for that man from the Yellow Thatched Inn by the Flowing Water Bridge, he was granted the title of Lord of Taiyuan and ordered to have a temple built there; to this day, offerings continue there. This story is titled “Young Master Zhao Causes a Ruckus at Qingyou Temple, Traveling a Thousand Miles to Deliver Jingniang.” Later poets praised him with these lines:

Unattached to personal feelings and unafraid of power,
He traveled a thousand miles alone to deliver Jingniang.
The Han and Tang dynasties were filled with chaos,
But who could compare to the hero Zhao Dalang!

Volume 22: The Song Official’s Reunion, Breaking the Straw Hat

Do not force what is not meant to be;
If fate has it so, there’s no need to worry.
No matter how turbulent the waves may be,
There’s always a steady path through them.

It is said that during the Zhengde era, in Ganshan County, Suzhou Prefecture, there lived a man named Song Dun, descended from an official family. His wife, surnamed Lu, the two of them did no business but relied on the land inherited from their ancestors to earn some rent.

By forty years old, they still had no children. One day, Song Dun said to his wife, “As the saying goes, ‘Raise sons to support you in old age, store grain to avoid famine.’ We’re both over forty yet have no offspring. Time flies, and before we know it, our hair will turn white. Who will take care of us in old age?” Tears streamed down his face as he spoke. Mrs. Lu replied, “Our Song family has always been kind and virtuous, never having done anything evil. Besides, since you’re the only child, heaven surely won’t deprive your ancestors of an heir. It will happen eventually. If not now, even if they grow up, they might leave us along the way. It would be futile effort, bringing only more sorrow.” Song Dun agreed.

Before he could dry his tears, they heard someone coughing nearby. A voice called, “Is Yufeng at home?” In Suzhou’s custom, everyone, regardless of status, had a nickname by which they were addressed. Yufeng was Song Dun’s nickname. Listening carefully, Song Dun recognized the voice after the second call—it was Liu Shunquan. Liu Shunquan, whose full name was Youcai, inherited a large ship from his ancestors, using it to transport passengers and goods to various places.

The burden is relieved. With some extra money saved from the journey, a perfectly complete household setup is all carried aboard the ship.
Even this very ship is worth hundreds of gold pieces, entirely crafted from fragrant elm wood. In the waterways of the Jiangnan region, many engage in such business. Liu Youcai was Song Dun’s closest friend; upon hearing his voice, he hurriedly came out to greet him. There was no need for formal bows—they simply greeted each other with clasped hands and sat down to drink tea. Song Dun asked, “How did Shunquan find time today?” Liu Youcai replied, “I’ve come specifically to borrow something from Yufeng.” Song Dun laughed and said, “What does your ship lack that you’d ask our humble home to lend?” Liu Youcai said, “I’m not here for anything else. This item is extra in my house, which is why I dare to ask.” Song Dun said, “Since it truly belongs to our family, we certainly won’t be stingy.” Liu Youcai calmly described the item in question. It was made of fine yellow cloth, sewn with meticulous stitches, ready to be offered in worship. It was also believed to contain sacred talismans meant to enhance the deity’s presence.

Song Dun and his wife had struggled to have children, so they burned incense everywhere to pray for offspring, creating bundles of yellow cloth and bags to hold offerings like Buddha statues and coins. After burning the incense, they hung these bundles in their home’s temple, showing great sincerity. Liu Youcai was five years older than Song Dun and was now 46 years old; his mother, Mrs. Xu, also had no children. He heard that there were salt merchants in Huizhou who wanted children and had built a new temple dedicated to the Goddess in Suzhou, outside Yanmen, where prayers never ceased and the incense burnings were intense. Liu Youcai happened to have an opportunity to sail to Fengqiao to pick up a guest and thought he could stop by the temple to offer prayers, but since he hadn’t prepared any bundles or bags yet, he came to borrow them from the Song family. When he explained the reason, Song Dun remained silent, deeply grateful. Liu Youcai said, “Yufeng, do you really intend to be stingy? If anything goes wrong, I’ll compensate with two instead of one.” Song Dun replied, “How could that be! It’s just one item. Since the temple is so sacred, I too would like to go along. I just don’t know when.” Liu Youcai said, “We can set off right away.” Song Dun said, “I have another set of bundles and bags at home—two in total, which can be shared.” Liu Youcai said, “That’s great.” Song Dun went inside and told his wife about his plan to go to the city to burn incense. She was also happy. Song Dun took down two sets of bundles and bags from the wall in the temple, keeping one for himself and lending the other to Liu Youcai. Liu Youcai said, “I’ll head to the ship first. Please come quickly, Yufeng. The ship is under Dabankiao Bridge at the north gate. If you’re not too busy, you can have some simple vegetarian food here; no need to bring rice.” Song Dun agreed. He quickly prepared some incense, candles, paper horses, and other offerings, put them together, put on a newly made white silk robe, and rushed out through the north gate to board the ship. With the help of the favorable wind, they covered the seventy-mile distance in just half a day and arrived easily. The ship stopped at Fengqiao, and there was nothing much to talk about that night. Here’s a poem to illustrate it:
“The moon has set, crows cry, frost fills the sky;
Maple trees by the river, fishing lights against sorrowful eyes.”

Outside the city of Gusu, there’s Hanshan Temple; at midnight, its bell sounds reach the guest ship.

The next day, early in the morning, after washing up on the ship and eating some simple food to clean his mouth and hands, he carried a pair of yellow cloth bundles containing offerings for the dead. Inside the yellow cloth bags were paper horses and prayers, which he hung around his neck. He then walked to the temple of the Goddess in Chenzhou just as dawn was breaking. The temple gates were open, but the main hall doors were still closed. The two of them wandered around the halls, admiring the neat construction. As they were marveling at it, suddenly the main hall doors opened, and a temple attendant came out to welcome them inside. At that time, no other pilgrims had arrived, and the candlesticks were empty. The attendant placed down the glass lanterns to light the candles and asked for the prayers so that he could pray on their behalf. After burning incense and praying, they each gave the attendant a few coins as thanks before leaving with the paper offerings. Liu Youcai tried to invite Song Dun back to the ship, but Song Dun refused. Liu Youcai then returned the cloth bundles and bags to Song Dun, and they parted with mutual thanks. Liu Youcai went to Fengqiao to pick up the guests.

Song Dun thought it was still too early and wanted to take a boat home through Loumen. Just as he was about to leave, he heard moaning sounds coming from beneath the wall. Upon approaching, he saw a small thatched shelter built beside the temple wall, inside which lay an old monk who was seriously ill and on the verge of death. He didn’t respond when called or answer when questioned. Moved by compassion, Song Dun stayed to watch. A man came over and said, “Sir, why just watch? Why not do something good?” Song Dun asked, “How can I do something good?” The man replied, “This monk came from Shaanxi. He’s seventy-eight years old. He says he’s never eaten meat in his life and has only recited the Diamond Sutra every day. Three years ago, he tried to raise funds here to build a monastery, but found no donors. So he lived in this thatched shelter, continuing to recite the sutras. There’s a vegetarian restaurant nearby that serves only one meal in the morning; nothing after that. Some people feel pity for him and give him money or rice, but he uses it to pay for the meals at the restaurant, not keeping a penny for himself. Recently, he fell ill and hasn’t been able to eat for half a month. Two days ago, he could still speak. We asked him, ‘Since you’re suffering like this, why not go now?’ He said, ‘The time hasn’t come yet; I’ll wait a couple more days.’ This morning, he couldn’t even speak anymore. He’s bound to die soon. If you feel pity for him, buy a simple coffin and cremate him—that would be a good deed. He said ‘the time hasn’t come yet,’ perhaps that time is upon you.” Song Dun thought, “I’ve come here today seeking offspring. If I do a good deed and go back, even the gods will know.” He asked, “Is there a coffin shop here?” The man replied, “It’s at Chen Sanlang’s house at the end of the alley.” Song Dun said, “Please accompany me to take a look.”

The man led him to Chen’s house. Chen Sanlang was in the shop, directing carpenters in cutting wood. The man said, “Sanlang, I’ve brought you a customer.” Sanlang replied, “If the customer wants to see wooden coffins, our shop has some ready-made ones inside; if they want something custom-made, they can choose from what’s here.” Song Dun said, “I want something custom-made.” Chen Sanlang pointed to one set and said, “This is the best one; it costs three taels.” Before Song Dun could...

He tried to haggle, but the man said, “This guest is buying it to give to the old monk in that thatched hut as a good deed; you also deserve half of the merit, so don’t ask for too low a price.” Chen Sanlang replied, “Since it’s for a good deed, I dare not ask for more. Let it be one tael and six qian at the original price—not a penny less.” Song Dun said, “That’s a fair price.” He remembered a piece of silver he had on him, weighing about five or six qian, left over from burning incense—less than a hundred copper coins in total—which still wasn’t even half of what was needed. “I know where to get it—the boat of Liu Shunquan is not far from Fengqiao,” he said to Chen Sanlang. “I’ll go by your price, but I need to run something by a friend first. I’ll be back in a moment.” When Chen Sanlang returned, he said, “Take your time.” The man became displeased and said, “Since the guest has shown kindness, now you’re looking for a way to get out of it. You don’t have any silver with you—why did you come then?”

Just then, people were passing by in the street, many talking about the old monk. Half a month ago, they could still hear him chanting scriptures, but this morning he had passed away. Truly, “As long as one has breath, there are countless uses; once it’s gone, everything comes to an end.”

The man said, “Haven’t you heard? That old monk is dead! He’s waiting in the underworld, eyes open, waiting for you to ruin him!” Although Song Dun said nothing, he thought to himself, “Since I’ve decided on this coffin, if I go to Fengqiao and Liu Shunquan isn’t on the boat, I can’t just sit around waiting for him to return. Besides, as the saying goes, ‘Price doesn’t choose the buyer.’ If another customer appears and offers more money, buying this coffin would mean I’d break my promise to this monk. No, no!” He took out the silver—just one piece—and asked to be weighed. To his surprise, it turned out to be a yuanbao. It seemed small at first, but when weighed, it was over seven qian heavy. He gave it to Chen Sanlang first. Then he took off his new, pure white lake silk robe and said, “This robe is worth more than one tael. If you’re not satisfied, we can offset the difference later when I come to redeem it; if it’s useful, please accept it.” Chen Sanlang said, “Our shop is bold—please don’t mind our calculations.” He accepted the silver and the robe. Song Dun also pulled out a silver ingot weighing about two qian and gave it to the man, saying, “Please exchange this for some copper coins for funeral expenses.” The people in the shop all said, “What a kind guest! He’s taking on such a big responsibility. For the smaller expenses, we should also contribute some money to help.”

Song Dun went back to the thatched hut and saw that the old monk had indeed disappeared. Tears welled in his eyes—he felt as if the monk were a relative, and his heart ached deeply, though he didn’t understand why. Unable to bear to look any longer, he left with tears streaming down his face. When he reached Loumen, the boat had already set sail, so he hired a small boat and returned home that day. His wife saw her husband returning at night, not wearing a robe and looking worried, thinking he must have been in a dispute with someone, and hurriedly...

He came to ask. Song Dun shook his head and said, “It’s a long story!” He went straight to the Buddha hall, hung up the two bundles of cloth bags, kowtowed in front of the Buddha, then entered the room, sat down, asked for tea, and only after that did he begin to talk, detailing everything about the old monk. His wife said, “That’s exactly what should be done. It’s not strange at all.” Seeing how wise and virtuous his wife was, Song Dun’s worries turned into joy.

That night, the couple slept until dawn. Song Dun dreamed that the old monk came to thank him, saying, “Huan Yue was destined to have no children, and his lifespan would end there. But because of your kind heart, heaven ordered that his life be extended by half a century. I have another connection with you; I wish to become your son as a way to repay your kindness.” Lady Lu also dreamed of a golden-bodied Arhat entering her room; she cried out in her dream, waking her husband as well. They shared their dreams, unsure whether to believe them or not, and lamented endlessly. Truly, as the saying goes: “You reap what you sow.”

Encourage people to do good, for they will reap what they’ve sown.

From then on, Lady Lu became pregnant and gave birth to a child after ten months. Because of her dream about the golden-bodied Arhat, the child was given the nickname Jin Lang, and his official name became Song Jin. The couple was overjoyed, needless to say. At that time, Liu Youcai also had a daughter, named Yichun. As they grew up, some people suggested that the two families get married. Liu Youcai was willing to it, but Song Dun disapproved of his family’s humble background as fishermen, considering them not from a noble lineage. Though he said nothing, he harbored disapproval in his heart. When Song Jin was six years old, Song Dun fell ill and passed away. As the old saying goes, “In a household, everything depends on the head of the family. Ten women cannot compare to one man.” After Song Dun’s death, Lady Lu took charge of the household. There were continuous poor harvests, and people exploited her as a widow by imposing heavy taxes and duties on her. Unable to cope, she gradually sold their land and house and had to rent a place to live. At first, they pretended to be poor, but later they simply relied on others’ generosity. In less than ten years, they became truly poor, and Lady Lu also died of illness.

With everything lost, Song Jin was left with nothing but his bare hands. The landlord drove him out of the house, leaving him with nowhere to go. Fortunately, since childhood, he had learned how to write and calculate. By chance, a local scholar who had been appointed as the county magistrate of Jiangshan County in Zhejiang Province was looking for someone who could handle writing and calculations. Someone recommended Song Jin to him, and the scholar had him brought in. Seeing his young age and handsome appearance, the scholar was very pleased. When asked about his skills, it turned out he was proficient in calligraphy and skilled in arithmetic. He kept Song Jin in his study right away, gave him new clothes, shared meals with him, and treated him very well. On an auspicious day, the county magistrate and Song Jin boarded an official ship and set off for their post. Truly, as the saying goes: “The drums urge us onward; the gentle breeze blows the colorful sails.”

It is said that though Song Jin was poor and humble, he still came from a noble family. Now that he worked in Lord Fan’s household, how could he tolerate being degraded and treated like a servant, subjected to mockery? The stewards took advantage of his youth and his awkward behavior, becoming even more disrespectful toward him. From Kunshan onward, they traveled by water, but once they reached Hangzhou, they switched to land travel. The others criticized their master, saying, “This young servant from Song Jin’s family is here to write accounts and serve the master; he ought to be cautious and humble. Yet he knows nothing of propriety. The master is being too kind to him, letting him sit and eat with them. On the boat, it might be tolerable, but when they stop for the night on land, the master must maintain some dignity. We suggest that he be made to write a letter of guarantee so that things will be in order. That way, when they arrive at the office, he won’t dare act recklessly.” Lord Fan, who was easily influenced, followed their advice. He called Song Jin into the cabin and asked him to write such a letter. How could Song Jin agree? After much pressure, Lord Fan became angry, ordered that his clothes be stripped off, and had him thrown out of the boat. The servants dragged him away, stripping him completely, leaving him in just a plain cotton shirt as they pushed him onto the shore. So angry was Song Jin that he couldn’t speak for a long time. He saw sedan chairs and horses ready to help County Magistrate Fan disembark. With tears in his eyes, Song Jin had no choice but to step aside. Having no possessions and suffering from hunger, he was forced to follow in the footsteps of those two ancient figures: Wu Xiang, who played the flute while living in Wu, and King Han, who relied on a fisherwoman for food.

He begged for food in the streets during the day and sheltered in ancient temples at night. Moreover, though in dire straits, Song Jin still retained a bit of pride from his noble background. He refused to become like those street beggars, living shamelessly—eating whenever they could and enduring hunger otherwise, sometimes having a meal and sometimes not. Over time, he grew pale and thin, losing all his former vigor. It was truly as if:

“A beautiful flower loses its color in the rain; fragrant grass turns gray after the frost.”

It happened to be late autumn, with cold winds blowing. Suddenly, a heavy rainstorm struck. With no food and thin clothes, Song Jin endured hunger and cold in the Wang Temple at Beixing Pass, unable to escape. The rain lasted from the early morning until noon. Song Jin tightened his belt before stepping out of the temple. Before he could take a few steps, he encountered someone. When he looked up, it was Liu Youcai, a close friend of his father Song Dun, also known as Shunquan. Too ashamed to face him, Song Jin dared not acknowledge him and simply walked away with his head lowered. But Liu Youcai had already seen him. He grabbed him from behind and called out, “Aren’t you little Song? Why do you look like this?” Tears streamed down Song Jin’s face as he bowed and said, “I’m in disheveled clothes and unable to show proper respect. Thank you for asking, uncle.” He then recounted everything that had happened, including how Lord Fan had treated him rudely. Uncle Liu replied, “Everyone has a sense of compassion. If you’ll work on my ship, I’ll ensure you have enough to eat and wear.” Song Jin immediately knelt down and said, “If you would take me in, it would be as if you gave me new parents.”

At that moment, Old Liu led Song Jin to the riverbank. Old Liu boarded the boat first and told Liu Kuo about the situation.
Liu Ji said, “This benefits both parties—what’s not good about that?” Old Liu then called the young official from Song’s family onto the boat, took off his old cloth robe, and gave it to him to wear. He led him to the stern, where he met Mother Xu and his daughter Yichun; they also greeted each other. Song Jin stepped away from the bow. Old Liu said, “Give some food to the young official from Song’s family.” Liu Jun replied, “There is food, but it’s cold.” Yichun said, “There’s hot tea in the pot.” She quickly fetched a pot of scalding hot tea. Liu Jun took some pickled vegetables from the kitchen cabinet and mixed them with the cold rice, handing it to Song Jin and saying, “Young official from Song’s family, buying and selling on the boat isn’t like at home—just use whatever’s available!” Song Jin accepted it. Seeing the light rain falling, Old Liu called his daughter, “There’s an old felt hat in the stern—get it and give it to the young official from Song’s family to wear.” When Yichun took the old felt hat, it was already torn at one side. Quick-handed, she pulled out needles and thread from her sleeve, sewed up the tear, and threw the hat on top of the boat, saying, “Take the hat and wear it.” Song Jin put on the torn hat, drank the tea, and ate the cold rice. Old Liu told him to take care of the cooking on the boat, clean it, and go to the shore to welcome guests; he returned only in the evening, and there was no conversation that night.

The next day, when Old Liu got up, he saw Song Jin sitting idly at the bow. Thinking to himself, “A newcomer shouldn’t be allowed to get too comfortable,” he snapped, “A boy who eats our food and wears our clothes should at least spin ropes or make ropes when he’s free—it’s useful. Why just sit around?” Song Jin quickly replied, “I’ll do whatever you order; I dare not disobey.” Old Liu then handed him some hemp bark and asked him to make ropes. Truly, under such pressure, how could he dare not bow his head?

From then on, Song Jin worked diligently day and night, never slacking off. Moreover, being skilled in writing and calculations, he kept accurate records of all goods and transactions on the boat. Other boats often asked him to use the abacus and keep accounts. All the guests respected and liked him, praising him as a clever young man. Old Liu and Liu Jun, seeing his diligence, treated him well, providing him with fine clothes and food. In front of guests, they considered him their nephew. Song Jin also felt content and at ease, growing fatter day by day. Everyone on the boat envied him.

Time flew by, and before long, more than two years had passed. One day, Old Liu thought to himself, “I’m getting older, and I have only one daughter. I need a worthy son-in-law to support me in my old age. Someone like the young official from Song’s family would be perfect. But what does Mother think?” That night, he drank wine with his mother, with his daughter Yichun by their side. Pointing at his daughter, Old Liu said to his mother, “Yichun is now of marriageable age, but she still doesn’t have a husband. What should we do?” Liu Ji replied, “This is a major matter for us in our old age—how can you not take it seriously?” Old Liu said, “I’ve been thinking about it every day.”

It’s just rare to find someone as perfect as Song Xiaoguan—someone with such talent and ability, one in a thousand. So I can’t just give him my daughter.” Liu Ou said, “Why not just agree to it?” Old Liu pretended to say, “Mother, what are you saying! He has no home or support; he relies on us for food on the ship. He has no money at all—how can we give our daughter to him?” Liu Chu said, “Song Xiaoguan is from an official family, and besides, he’s the son of an old friend. When his father was still alive, people tried to arrange a marriage for him. How could you forget that? Although he’s poor now, looking at his good looks, and since he knows how to write and calculate, having such a son-in-law would bring honor to our family. We two will also have someone to rely on in our old age.” Old Liu asked, “Mother, have you made up your mind?” Liu Chu replied, “How could I not?” Old Liu said, “Then that’s great.”

It turned out that Liu Youcai had always been afraid of his mother. He had long admired Song Jin but was worried that his mother wouldn’t agree. Now that she was willing, he was overjoyed. He immediately called Song Jin and arranged the marriage in front of his mother. At first, Song Jin was modest, but seeing the genuine goodwill of Old Liu and his wife, and knowing he wouldn’t have to spend a penny, he agreed. Old Liu went to the Yin Yang Sheng family to choose an auspicious day, then reported back to his wife and took the ship back to Kunshan. First, they prepared a set of silk clothes for Song Xiaoguan to wear. With new clothes, hat, shoes, and socks, Song Jin looked extremely handsome.

Though he lacked Zijian’s talent, his appearance surpassed that of Pan An.

Liu Ou also prepared some clothes and other items for his daughter. When the auspicious day arrived, they invited relatives from both families and held a grand wedding feast. Song Jin became the son-in-law on the ship. The next day, relatives came to offer congratulations, and they celebrated for three days. After getting married, the couple loved each other deeply, needless to say. From then on, business on the ship flourished day by day.

Time flew by, and before they knew it, a year and two months had passed. Yichun became pregnant and gave birth to a daughter. The couple cherished her dearly, taking turns holding her. Just over a year later, the girl contracted smallpox. No medicine worked, and she died after twelve days. Song Jin was heartbroken over his beloved daughter and cried bitterly. Overwhelmed by grief, he developed a rash disease. He felt cold in the morning and hot in the evening, his appetite declined, and his body grew weaker. At first, Old Liu and Liu Chu hoped he would recover and sought medical help. But after a year, his condition worsened instead of improving. He was barely human—unable to write or calculate. They wished he would die so they could be free from his suffering, yet he wouldn’t die. The two elders were filled with regret and blamed each other: “We originally hoped to rely on a son in our old age. Now look at this wretched creature—neither alive nor dead, like a rotten snake wrapped around us. It ruined our beautiful daughter’s life. How could this be?”

“What plan should we use now? We need to get rid of that enemy first, and then let our daughter find another suitable husband, only then will we be satisfied.” The couple discussed it for a long time and came up with a plan, keeping their daughter in the dark. They claimed there were goods to be picked up north of the river, so they set sail there. When they reached Wuxi area near Chizhou, they arrived at a desolate place—just an isolated mountain, endless waters, wild shores and cliffs, with no sign of human life. That day there was a slight headwind, so Lord Liu deliberately steered the ship toward the sandy shore, ordering Song Jin to push it from the water. Song Jin was slow and clumsy, so Lord Liu scolded him, “You worthless wretch! If you can’t even push the boat, at least go cut some firewood on the shore to burn, so we don’t have to spend money buying it.” Feeling ashamed, Song Jin took a small knife and went ashore to cut wood. While he was away, Lord Liu pushed the rudder hard, turned the ship around, set full sails, and sailed downstream.

“No need to worry about family suffering hardships; just glad that the enemy is out of sight.”

Meanwhile, Song Jin went ashore to cut wood. Though there were many trees in the dense forest, he didn’t have the strength to chop them down. He could only gather some broken branches, cut some withered thorns, and pull out dry vines, tying them into two large bundles. But he still didn’t have the strength to carry them. He had an idea: he took another dry vine and threaded the two bundles together, leaving a long end to hold, walking like a shepherd leading an ox. After walking for a while, he remembered he had left his knife behind, so he went back to retrieve it and also tied it to the bundle, dragging it slowly ashore. By the time he returned to where the boat was, it was gone—only the mist over the river and sand islands stretched as far as the eye could see. Song Jin walked along the river, searching but finding no trace of the boat. As the sun set, he realized he had been abandoned by his father-in-law. With no way out, he cried bitterly until he couldn’t breathe anymore and collapsed on the ground. After a while, he regained consciousness. Suddenly, he saw an old monk on the shore, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. The monk planted his staff on the ground and said, “Where are your companions? This is not a place to stay!” Song Jin quickly got up and bowed, introducing himself, saying, “I was deceived and abandoned by my father-in-law, Lord Liu. Now I’m alone with nowhere to go. I beg the venerable monk to help me save my life.” The old monk replied, “My humble hut isn’t far away. Come with me and stay for the night; we’ll figure something out tomorrow.” Song Jin was extremely grateful and followed the old monk.

After walking for a while, they indeed found a thatched hut. The old monk struck stones to make fire, cooked some porridge, and gave it to Song Jin to eat. Then he asked, “What grudge does your father-in-law have against you? I’d like to hear the details.” Song Jin told him everything about marrying aboard the ship and falling ill. The old monk asked, “Does your father-in-law hold a grudge against you?” Song Jin replied, “When I first asked for his hand in marriage, he took me in and arranged the wedding. Now that I’m sick, he abandons me. It’s because of my weak fate—I wouldn’t dare harbor any resentment toward others!” The old monk said, “From what you say, you truly are an honest and kind person. Your illness stems from emotional distress, not something that medicine can cure. Only by purifying the mind and regulating emotions can you recover.”

“Have you recited Buddhist scriptures on ordinary days?” Song Jin replied, “No.” The old monk took out a scroll from his sleeve and gave it to him, saying, “This is the Diamond Sutra, the heart seal of our Buddha. It’s presumptuous of me to teach you this now, but if you recite it once a day, it can dispel all false thoughts, cure illnesses, prolong life, and bring endless benefits.” Song Jin was actually the reincarnation of an old monk from the temple in Chenzhou; in his previous life, he had dedicated himself to reciting this sutra. By receiving it orally today, he was able to recite it fluently right away—this was the result of past karmic connections. Song Jin sat in meditation with the old monk, closing his eyes and reciting the sutra. Before dawn, he fell asleep. When he woke up, he found himself sitting on a grassy slope, with neither the old monk nor the thatched hut in sight. Yet the Diamond Sutra was still in his arms, and he could recite it as soon as he opened it. Deeply astonished, Song Jin used water from a pond to wash his mouth, then recited the sutra once more. All his worries vanished, and his sickly condition improved instantly. He realized that it was the holy monk who had manifested to save him, thanks to his past karma. Song Jin bowed deeply in gratitude to the heavens for their protection. Still, his life was like duckweed adrift on the sea, with no stable foundation. Walking on foot, he soon felt hungry. Seeing a faint sign of a household among the trees ahead, he decided to ask for food again. This experience led to a turning point: Song Jin turned misfortune into fortune. As the saying goes, “When the road seems dead end, a path will open; when the water runs dry, it will find a new source.”

Song Jin went to the nearby mountain but saw no signs of people, only weapons planted throughout the forest. Uncertain, he ventured forward. There he found a ruined temple, inside which there were eight large chests, tightly sealed and covered with straw. Song Jin thought, “These must be hidden by thieves; the weapons are meant to deceive people. Though their origins are unclear, it’s safe to take them.” He came up with a plan: he broke some branches and placed them on the ground to mark the path as he stepped out of the forest until he reached the riverbank. By luck, there was a large ship whose rudder had been damaged by the waves, so it was docked there for repairs. Song Jin pretended to be panicked and said to the people on the ship, “I’m Qian Jin from Shaanxi. I was traveling with my uncle to Huguang for business when we were robbed by bandits. My uncle was killed, and I pretended to be just a young servant. I’ve been ill for a long time and beg for your mercy to let me stay alive. The bandit sent one of his men to stay with me in the temple to guard the goods, while he went elsewhere. Fortunately, that man was killed by a venomous snake last night, and I managed to escape here. Please take me along.” The sailors weren’t convinced at first. Song Jin added, “There are eight huge chests in the temple, all containing my family’s wealth. The temple isn’t far from here. I beg you to go ashore and carry them back to the ship. I’ll give you one chest as thanks. We must hurry, or if the bandits return, we won’t be able to do anything and will be in danger.”

Everyone was seeking wealth from afar, and upon hearing about the eight chests, they eagerly agreed to help. Sixteen strong young men were gathered, along with eight ropes and poles, to accompany Song Jin to the temple. There indeed were eight large chests, each very heavy. Two people carried each chest, using exactly eight poles. Song Jin then collected the weapons from the forest.

Hidden among the tall grass, all eight chests were brought ashore, and the rudder was repaired. The boatman asked Song Jin, “Where does the old guest wish to go now?” Song Jin replied, “I’m going to Nanjing to visit my family.” The boatman said, “My ship is heading to Guazhou; it’s fortunate that it’s a convenient route.” They set sail immediately and stopped after traveling about fifty li. Everyone, flattered by the fact that the man from Shaanxi was wealthy, pooled their money to buy wine and meat as a gift to celebrate. The next day, a strong west wind arose, so they raised the sails. In a few days, they arrived in Guazhou and moored there. It was only ten li across the river from Guazhou to Nanjing. Song Jin hired another ferry boat, having seven of the heavier chests carried ashore, while giving one chest to the crew as a token of his promise. The crew opened the chest and divided its contents among themselves—no need to elaborate further.

Song Jin crossed to Longjiang Pass and found an inn to stay at. He called a blacksmith to make keys and open the chest. Inside, it was filled with gold, jade, and precious treasures. It turned out that these had been accumulated over many years by bandits, not stolen from just one household in a single incident. Song Jin first sold some of the treasures in the market and earned thousands of gold pieces. Fearing suspicion from the innkeeper, he moved to the city, bought servants to serve him, wore fine clothes, and ate luxurious foods. Of the remaining six chests, he kept only the finest items; the rest were sold, yielding tens of thousands more in gold. He purchased a large house inside Yifeng Gate in Nanjing, renovated the halls and gardens, and furnished everything needed for a luxurious life. He opened a pawnshop in front of the house and acquired several estates, with dozens of rooms. He had ten capable managers and four beautiful boys to attend to him. Everyone in the capital called him “Mr. Money,” as he rode in carriages and had vast wealth. As the saying goes, “One’s environment affects one’s temperament, and one’s habits affect one’s physique.” Today, Song Jin was wealthy and healthy, with radiant skin and a bright complexion—far from his once gaunt and poor appearance. Truly, “When fortune favors one, one’s spirit thrives; when autumn comes, one’s beauty shines anew.”

Now, let’s turn to another story. That day, Liu Youcai tricked his son-in-law into coming ashore, then turned the ship around and sailed downstream with the wind. In the blink of an eye, they had traveled a hundred li. The elderly couple was secretly delighted. Yi Chun’s daughter still didn’t know anything, thinking her father was still on the ship. She prepared the medicine and called out to him, but he didn’t respond. Thinking he was asleep at the bow, she went to wake him. But her mother snatched the medicine from her and poured it into the river, scolding, “Where is that leper? Do you still want him?” Yi Chun asked, “Is he really there?” Her mother replied, “Your father saw that he was seriously ill and feared he might infect others, so he tricked him into coming ashore to fetch firewood, then turned the ship around.” Yi Chun grabbed her mother and cried bitterly, “Give me Song Lang back!” Hearing the crying from inside the boat, Mr. Liu came over and tried to persuade her, “My child, listen to me. For a woman, marriage brings lifelong suffering. That leper will die sooner or later, and we’re bound to be separated anyway. It’s not fate for you to be with him. It’s better to end things early to avoid wasting your youth. I’ll find you a good husband to complete your life—forget about him!” Yi Chun cried, “What kind of thing is this, Father? It’s cruel and unjust, against nature. This marriage between Song Lang and me was arranged by our families. Once we became husband and wife, we were meant to live and die together. How can you go back on that?”

Regret? Even if he is terminally ill and doomed to die, we should still let him pass away peacefully. How can we bear to abandon him in a desolate place? If Father shows pity for me, please set sail immediately and search for Master Song so he won’t be mocked by others.” Lord Liu said, “That man with the ulcer has surely left the boat and gone to another village to beg. What’s the point of searching? Besides, the wind is against us now, and we’re already a hundred miles away. It’s better to stay put than to move around. I advise you to give up!” When Yichun saw her father refused, she cried out loudly, stepped over the side of the boat, and tried to jump in. Fortunately, Mother Liu was quick enough to pull her back. Yichun vowed to die and continued to wail bitterly.

The two elders didn’t expect their daughter to be so stubborn. With no other choice, they stayed awake all night to watch over her. The next morning, they had no choice but to comply and set sail again. The wind and currents were against them, and after a whole day, they hadn’t covered even half the distance. Another night passed in tears and unrest. It wasn’t until the third day that they reached the spot where they had moored the boat earlier. Yichun went ashore by herself to look for her husband. There, she found two bundles of firewood on the beach and a knife—recognizing it as the one from the boat. She realized those bundles of firewood must have been carried there by Master Song. With the objects still there but her husband gone, her pain intensified. Refusing to give up, she insisted on continuing the search. Her father had no choice but to accompany her. After walking for a while, they saw only dark trees and deep mountains, with no sign of anyone. Lord Liu advised her to return to the boat, but she cried all night again. Early the next day, she asked her father to go ashore with her once more. It was still just barren land, with no trace of her husband. She returned to the boat in tears, thinking, “In such a deserted place, where could my husband go to beg? Moreover, being seriously ill, he couldn’t walk. He must have thrown the firewood and knife on the cliff and committed suicide by drowning.” After crying, she looked toward the river and tried to jump again, but Lord Liu stopped her. Yichun said, “Father and Mother raised my body, but not my heart. I’m destined to die anyway. It’s better to let me die early so I can see Master Song one last time.”

The two elders, seeing their daughter in such agony, felt extremely guilty. They said, “Our child, it’s your father and mother’s fault. We made a mistake in planning, which led to this situation. Regretting now is useless. Have mercy on us old people who only have you. If you die, our lives will also be at risk. Please forgive your parents’ sins and live peacefully. Your father will write a notice and post it everywhere along the riverside towns. If Master Song is still alive and sees this notice, we’ll surely be able to reunite. If there’s no news after three months, you may do good deeds to help find your husband. Your father won’t hesitate to spend money for this purpose.” Only then did Yichun stop crying and thanked them, saying, “If that’s possible, I can die in peace.” Lord Liu immediately wrote a notice seeking her husband and posted it where it could be seen on the walls of the riverside towns. After three months, there was still no news. Yichun said, “My husband must really be dead.” She quickly prepared mourning clothes, dressed in black, set up an altar for sacrifices, invited nine monks to perform rituals for three days and nights, and used her own money to pray for her deceased husband’s soul. Lord Liu and Lady Liu loved their daughter deeply and dared not disobey her. After several days of turmoil, they finally calmed down. She continued to cry every morning...

Moreover, at dusk, she cried again. Those on nearby boats, hearing this, could not help but sigh with pity. A group of acquaintances, upon learning of this, all felt sorry for Officer Song and pitied Lady Liu. Yi Chun cried continuously for half a year before finally stopping. Old Man Liu said to his wife, “If our daughter stops crying these days, her heart is gradually cooling down. It’s time to persuade her to get married; otherwise, what can we two old people rely on with just a lonely daughter?” Liu Zhu replied, “Your husband is right. But I’m afraid she won’t agree; we need to approach it gently.”

More than a month passed. On December 24th, Old Man Liu returned to Kunshan by boat to spend the New Year. He got drunk at his relatives’ house and, in his drunken state, tried to persuade his daughter, saying, “The New Year is approaching—put aside your mourning!” Yi Chun replied, “Husbandhood is a lifelong duty of filial piety—how can it be put aside?” Old Man Liu opened his eyes wide and said, “What lifelong filial piety! As your father, I allow you to take him when I permit it; if I don’t allow it, then you’re not allowed to.” Seeing her father’s firm stance, Lady Liu stepped in and said, “Wait until I’ve spent the remaining days of the year mourning. On New Year’s Eve, we’ll prepare a bowl of soup and food as an offering, and then put aside the mourning!” Seeing that her parents wouldn’t agree, Yi Chun began to cry, saying, “You two are plotting to harm my husband, and now you won’t even let me continue my mourning—forcing me to remarry someone else. How could I betray Song Lang by losing my chastity? I’d rather die while continuing my mourning than live without it.” Old Man Liu was about to lose his temper when his wife scolded him a few words and pushed him into the cabin to sleep. Yi Chun cried all night again.

On New Year’s Eve, the 30th of the month, Yi Chun paid tribute to her husband and cried for a while. Her mother-in-law persuaded her to stop, and the three of them had dinner together. Her parents, unhappy to see her refuse meat and alcohol, said, “My child! You refuse to end your mourning—why not eat a little meat? Young people shouldn’t weaken their strength.” Yi Chun replied, “A person who isn’t dead, struggling to survive, can’t even eat too much of this plain rice—let alone meat dishes.” Liu Zhu suggested, “Since you don’t want meat, at least drink a cup of plain wine to ease your sorrow.” Yi Chun said, “A single drop can never reach the netherworld. Thinking of the deceased, how could I bear to swallow it?” With that, she began to cry bitterly again, refused to eat even the plain rice, and went to bed. Old Man Liu and his wife realized their daughter’s resolve was unbreakable and stopped forcing her from then on. Later generations composed poems praising Yi Chun’s integrity. The poem reads:

“Chastity and loyalty among women are known through the ages;
How can those like the boatwoman be compared to such virtuous women?
Vowing to die rather than change her steadfast resolve,
She truly deserves to be called a paragon of ancient sages.”

Now, turning back to the story: Song Jin stayed in Nanjing for one year and eight months, managing his affairs so well that he left them in the care of a steward. He took with him three thousand taels of silver, four servants, two handsome boys, and a ship, heading to Kunshan to visit Old Man Liu and Liu Zhou. Neighbors said, “These three…”

He went to Yizhen. Song Jin sold silver for cloth, then went to Yizhen and delivered the goods to a well-known merchant there.

The next day, he went to the river mouth and found Liu’s boat. From afar, he saw Hun wearing simple clothes and unadorned makeup at the stern of the boat, realizing she had remained chaste and unmarried, which filled him with sorrow. Returning to his lodging, he told the master, “There’s a woman on a boat downstream, dressed in mourning but very beautiful. I’ve arranged for it to be Liu Shunquan’s boat from Kunshan, and this woman is his daughter. I’ve been widowed for two years now, and I wish to marry this woman as my second wife.” Then he took out ten taels of silver from his sleeve and gave it to the master, saying, “This modest gift is meant as payment for wine; please use it on my behalf. When things go well, I’ll reward you generously. If it involves money or gifts, I won’t hesitate to spend even a thousand taels.” The master accepted the silver gladly, went straight to the boat, invited Old Liu to an inn, prepared a sumptuous feast, and seated Old Liu at the head table. Old Liu was shocked and said, “I’m just a boatman—why such great hospitality? There must be some reason.” The master replied, “Drink three cups first before you refuse.” Old Liu grew even more suspicious, thinking, “If no explanation is given, I certainly won’t sit down.” The master said, “There’s a wealthy man from Shaanxi in this shop, with vast wealth. He’s been widowed for two years and admires your daughter’s beauty. He wants to marry her and is willing to offer a dowry of a thousand taels. I’ve asked you to intercede; please don’t refuse.” Old Liu said, “For a boatwoman to marry into a wealthy family would indeed be her greatest wish. But my son is extremely steadfast in his chastity. At the mention of remarrying, he wants to die. I dare not accept this request, nor can I accept your kind offer.” He tried to get up, but the master grabbed him by the arm and said, “This arrangement was also suggested by that wealthy man. Since he’s already spent money, we can’t let it go to waste. If things don’t work out, it won’t matter.” Old Liu had no choice but to sit down.

During the drinking, the master continued, “That man’s request comes from sincerity. I hope you’ll return to the boat and discuss it calmly.” Old Liu, having had his daughter try to drown him several times, only shook his head and didn’t say much. After the drink ended, they parted ways.

The master returned home and recounted Old Liu’s words to the wealthy man. Song Jin then realized how firm Hun’s resolve was. He said to the master, “It’s fine if the marriage doesn’t happen. I still want to hire his boat to transport goods upstream. Won’t you allow that?” The master replied, “Boats serve all passengers in the world. Of course, I’ll agree.” He immediately discussed hiring Old Liu’s boat with him, and Old Liu agreed. Song Jin ordered his servants to first load the goods onto the boat, leaving the merchandise on shore—it wouldn’t be too late to send them tomorrow. Song Jin wore fine clothes and a sable hat, accompanied by two handsome boys dressed in green velvet, each holding incense burners and ruyi scepters. Old Liu and his wife mistook them for the wealthy man from Shaanxi and didn’t recognize them. After all, a husband and wife are different from others. Yi Chun watched from the stern, not daring to believe it was her husband, but secretly marveling at the resemblance—about seven or eight parts alike. As soon as the wealthy man boarded the boat, he said to the person at the stern, “I’m hungry; give me something to eat. If it’s cold, bring me some hot tea.” Yi Chun already suspected something. The wealthy man then scolded the servant, saying, “This boy eats my food and wears…”

“My family makes clothes; in our free time we spin ropes and make cords, which are useful. We can’t just sit idle!” These words were clearly what Old Liu had told Song Xiao Guan when he first boarded the ship. Hearing this, Yi Chun grew even more suspicious.

After a while, Old Liu personally brought tea to Mr. Qian. Mr. Qian said, “There’s a broken straw hat on your boat’s stern; could I borrow it?” Old Liu, being foolish and careless, went straight to ask his daughter for that broken straw hat. Yi Chun handed the hat to her father, murmuring four lines of poetry:

“The hat may be broken, but it was sewn by my own hands.
I think of those who wear hats— they no longer look as they once did.”

Hearing the poem from behind the stern, Mr. Qian understood what was meant. He took the hat and also recited four lines:

“The immortal and the mortal have changed completely; thus no one recognizes them.
Even if they return in fine clothes, they can’t forget that old straw hat.”

That night, Yi Chun said to her father and sister-in-law, “Mr. Qian in the cabin is likely Song Lang. Otherwise, how would he know about our broken straw hat? Moreover, their faces are similar, and his words are suspicious. We should question him carefully.” Old Liu laughed heartily and said, “Silly girl! That wretched Song family member is long gone—his flesh and bones have decayed. Even if he hadn’t died back then, he would just be begging for food. How could he possibly become so wealthy?” Liu Bao said, “You used to complain that your parents advised you to abandon filial piety and remarry, and you would jump into the water to die over it. Now that you see this guest is wealthy, you want to recognize him as your husband. If you do and he doesn’t, won’t that be shameful?” Yi Chun was filled with shame and didn’t dare speak. Old Liu then called his wife aside and said, “Honey, don’t say such things. Matters of marriage are determined by fate. A few days ago, Shopkeeper Wang invited me to his tavern for drinks. He said that Mr. Qian from Shaanxi was willing to offer a generous dowry to marry my daughter as his second wife. Since my daughter is stubborn, I haven’t given an answer yet. Now that she’s willing herself, why not take advantage of this opportunity and arrange her marriage to Mr. Qian, so that we can enjoy a comfortable life in our later years?” His sister-in-law said, “Father is right. Maybe Mr. Qian came to inspect our boat for a reason. Father can surely find out what his intentions are.” Old Liu replied, “I have my own reasons.”

The next morning, Mr. Qian got up, finished dressing, and held the broken straw hat, examining it back and forth at the bow of the boat. Old Liu asked, “Sir, what do you think of this broken straw hat?” Mr. Qian replied, “I admire the stitching. Such skillful needlework must come from a master hand.” Old Liu said, “It was sewn by my daughter. What’s so special about it? A few days ago, Shopkeeper Wang conveyed a message from you. I wonder if it’s true.” Mr. Qian deliberately asked, “What was the message?” Old Liu said, “He said you lost your wife two years ago and haven’t remarried yet, and you want to marry my daughter.” Mr. Qian asked, “Do you agree or not?” Old Liu replied, “I couldn’t ask for anything better. But I regret that my daughter is too steadfast in her chastity, vowing never to remarry, so I dare not promise lightly.” Mr. Qian said, “Your son-in-law…”

“Why did he die?” Old Liu said, “My son-in-law unfortunately suffered from a serious illness. That year, he failed to return from gathering firewood on land. The old man didn’t know and set sail without him. He searched for three months with notices posted everywhere, but mostly found only those who had drowned and died.” The wealthy man said, “If your son-in-law hadn’t died, he would have met a strange man who cured his illness and even made him very rich. If the old man wants to meet his son-in-law again, he can give away his daughter in marriage.”

At this moment, Yichun listened attentively. Upon hearing these words, she began to cry and scolded, “Wretched money-grubber! I fulfilled my filial duties for you for three years, enduring great hardships. And now you still don’t tell the truth—what shall I do?” Song Jin also shed tears and said, “My wife, come and see me!” The couple hugged each other and wept bitterly. Old Liu said, “Mother, it’s clear now that he’s no longer that wealthy man. We must go and apologize to him.” Old Liu and Liu Shu entered the cabin and bowed repeatedly. Song Jin said, “Father-in-law and mother-in-law, there’s no need for such formalities. Just promise me that when I’m sick in the future, you won’t try to exploit me again!” The two elders were filled with shame. Yichun then took off her mourning clothes and threw the spirit tablet into the water. Song Jin called his servants to kowtow to their new mistress. The old couple killed a chicken, prepared wine, and treated their son-in-law well—offering both a welcome feast and a celebration banquet. After the meal, Old Liu mentioned that his daughter had never eaten meat or drunk alcohol. Song Jin wept sadly and personally toasted with his family, urging her to start eating meat. He then said to Old Liu, “Since you tried to exploit me and end my life, cutting off all ties of kindness and loyalty, it’s only right we stop recognizing each other. Today, I reluctantly drink this cup of wine out of respect for your daughter.” Yichun said, “Without that attempt to exploit you, how could you have succeeded? Besides, your parents also benefited recently. From now on, remember gratitude rather than resentment.” Song Jin replied, “I will follow my wise wife’s orders. I’ve already established a household in Nanjing, with plenty of land and wealth. You two can give up your boat business and come with me there to enjoy a comfortable life—wouldn’t that be wonderful?” Old Liu thanked him repeatedly. That night, they said nothing more. The next day, when Shopkeeper Wang heard about what had happened, he boarded the ship to offer congratulations, and they drank together for another day.

Song Jin left three servants at Shopkeeper Wang’s house to settle accounts, then set sail for his mansion in Nanjing. After staying there for three days, he went with his family to Kunshan to visit their ancestors’ graves and offer sacrifices. Relatives and friends gave them generous gifts. By then, County Magistrate Fan had resigned and was living at home. Hearing that Song Jin had become successful, he was afraid of being seen by neighbors and avoided entering the city for over a month. After finishing his duties toward his ancestors, Song Jin returned to Nanjing. His family was overjoyed, and they lived in comfort and prosperity, as is to be expected.

As for Yichun, she noticed that Song Jin would go to the Buddhist temple every morning to worship and recite scriptures. She asked why. Song Jin told her about the “Diamond Sutra” taught by the old monk, which spoke of curing illnesses and prolonging life. Yichun also developed faith and asked her father-in-law to teach her. The couple recited the scriptures together, continuing to do so throughout their lives. In the end, both lived past ninety years old, free from illness.

End. His descendants became wealthy families in Nanjing, and some even achieved high ranks in the government. Later generations commented: “Liu the old man failed to persevere in doing good; Song, a minor official, turned misfortune into fortune.”

The Diamond Sutra eliminates disasters and reunites separated family members.

Volume 23: Le Xiao Abandons Life in Search of Fortune

Also known as “The Record of Joy and Harmony.” Anger and loud voices spread from the sea gates; boatmen said it was the spirit of Zi Xu. The sky sent snowy waves and thunderous roars; the earth held silver mountains with thousands of horses galloping. It corresponded to the celestial cycles determining day and night, and regulated the dawn and dusk across the universe. Where are the wars between Wu and Yue now? A fisherman’s song passes through the late-night village.

This poem specifically describes the tides of the Qiantang River in Hangzhou, and it is truly remarkable—its timing is precise and error-free. From ancient times to the present, no one has been able to explain its origins. It is said that there are four wonders in the world: the drum-changing ceremony in Leizhou, the buried treasures in Guangde, the mirages off Dengzhou, and the tides of the Qiantang River.

These three wonders occur once a year each. Only the Qiantang River experiences them twice a day. Since ancient times, it has been called “Ciluo River” because of its dangerous winds and waves that often capsized boats. The mountains on both sides were home to many tigers and leopards, hence named “Tiger Forest.” Later, since the character for “tiger” violated the ancestral taboo of Emperor Gaozu of Tang, it was renamed “Wu Forest.” Also, due to the river’s fierce and rapid tides that harmed residents, it was named “Ninghai Army.” By the end of the Tang Dynasty and during the Five Dynasties period, Qian Kuan from Lin’an County had a son. When he was born, a red glow filled the room; those who saw it thought a fire had started and rushed to put it out. But it was actually a boy with blue hair growing more than an inch long on his feet. His parents considered him a monster and wanted to kill him. His stepmother refused, so he was kept, and thus he was given the nickname “Po Liu.” As he grew up, he became over seven feet tall, handsome, intelligent, and brave. His given name was Luo, but he was also called Ju Tiao Mei. In his youth, he worked as a rogue merchant. Due to intense persecution by the authorities, he went to Zen master Fajie on Mount Qingshan. One night, Fajie heard a voice in the temple saying, “Tonight, Prince Qian Wusu is here; do not disturb him!” Realizing he was an extraordinary person, Fajie did not dare keep him and wrote a letter recommending him to Governor An Huan in Suzhou. Qian then served as a military officer under the governor, staying overnight in the horse stable.

One scorching hot day, the governor got up late and walked alone in the back garden. Near the horse stable, he saw Qian Chui sleeping there. Just then, behind the main hall, there was an abandoned well from which two little ghosts emerged to tease Qian Chui. Suddenly, a divine figure in golden armor shouted at them, causing them to flee.

The king said, “This is Prince Wusu here; no rudeness is allowed!” Upon hearing this, the governor was greatly alarmed and hurried back to his mansion, deeply puzzled. He then treated Qian Chun with great respect. Later, when Huang Chao caused chaos, Qian Chun distinguished himself by defeating the rebels, and Emperor Xinzong appointed him as a military governor. When Dong Chang rebelled again, Qian Luo suppressed the rebellion, and Emperor Zhaozong conferred upon him the title of King of Wuyue. With Hangzhou as its capital, the kingdom enjoyed peace. However, due to its limited territory and the turbulent Yangtze River, the king was often dissatisfied.

One day, an official presented a golden koi fish, over three feet long, with bright eyes, meant for the imperial cuisine. Seeing how strong and healthy the fish was, the king couldn’t bear to kill it and ordered it to be kept in a pond. That night, he dreamed of an old man wearing a tall hat and wide sash, who said, “Young lord, last night, in my drunkenness, I transformed into a golden koi and swam along the riverbank. I was caught and given to the emperor as food. I thank you for sparing my life. Now I come to beg you to release me back into the river; I will surely repay you generously.” The king agreed, and the dragon left. The king woke up suddenly from the dream. Early the next morning, he went to the palace, ordered the fish to be caught, and sent it back into the river. That night, he dreamed again of the dragon, who thanked him, saying, “How can I repay your kindness of saving my life? In my dragon palace’s treasure trove, there are many rare treasures—luminous pearls, walls made of jade. Whatever you desire, I will present it to you.” The king replied, “Precious pearls and jade walls are not what I desire. My country is located in a remote coastal area, less than a thousand li in size, and moreover, the vast Yangtze River with its turbulent waves constantly threatens us. If you could grant me more land to expand my kingdom, that would be my wish.” The dragon said, “That’s easy. But if I lend it, when shall I get it back?” The king replied, “After five hundred kalpas.” The dragon said, “In the future, you can cast twelve iron pillars, each twelve feet long. Please board a boat, and I will gather shrimp and fish on the water’s surface. Wherever you point, I’ll place an iron pillar, and the water will gradually recede, revealing flat land. You can build ponds with stones, and thus your land will expand.” The dragon left, and the king woke up.

The next day, he ordered twelve iron pillars to be cast. He personally boarded a boat and watched from the river. Indeed, there were groups of fish and shrimp in twelve places. He then ordered the iron pillars to be sunk, and the water receded. The king stepped ashore and saw that in no time, sand and stones had formed flat land, stretching from in front of Fuyang Mountain all the way to Zhoushan by the sea gate. The king was overjoyed and ordered stonemasons to carve stones into slabs, which were then strung together with yellow silk ropes to form ponds. Since carving the stones was slow, he issued an order: “If any soldiers or civilians bring boats loaded with new or old stone slabs, one boat will be exchanged for rice.” People from various places brought boats full of stone slabs in exchange for rice. Thus, the riverbanks were built, with plenty of stone slabs left over. This is how it came to be called the Qiantang River. When Emperor Gaozong of the Song Dynasty moved south and made Qiantang his capital, renaming it Lin’an Prefecture as the temporary imperial seat, the area began to thrive with a simple and pure culture. Every year on the 18th day of the eighth month, the tide day, people from all walks of life would go to the riverbanks to enjoy the tides.

Those who know how to swim well hold ten flags in their hands and move about in the water—this is called “playing with the tides,” and it’s truly a sight to behold. Yet there are those who don’t understand the depth of the water and try to do this, only to be knocked over and lose their lives. When the governor of Lin’an learned of this, he issued orders repeatedly to ban such practices, but it failed to change this custom. A poem by Scholar Dongpo serves as evidence: “The boy from Wu grew up by the turbulent waters, daringly risking his life without any concern.” “If the East Sea knew true wisdom, it would transform its waves into fields of mulberry trees.”

It is said that in Southern Song Dynasty’s Lin’an, there was an old family surnamed Le, named Meishan. They originally came from Anping Alley in Xianfu Fang, with seven generations of scholars in their family. Due to financial difficulties, they moved to live outside Qiantang Gate and opened a general merchandise store. People respected their family background and called him Uncle Le. His mother, Lady An, had only one son named He. He was handsome, intelligent, and clever. As a child, he was raised by his maternal uncle, An San, in Yongqing Alley, and attended school at the nearby Xijiangshi Academy. Xijiangshi Academy had a daughter named Shunniang, who was one year younger than Le He. The two studied together, and their classmates joked, “Your names, ‘Xilehe Shun,’ seem like they were meant for each other by fate.” As they grew older, they took these words to heart and secretly promised to marry each other. This was just a playful idea at first, but it turned out to be the foundation of their future union. Truly, “Fate is determined in past lives; it began long ago at the peach blossom gathering.”

By the time Le He was twelve, Shunniang was eleven. Le He returned home, while Shunniang remained in her secluded quarters, so they never saw each other. Though still young, Le He was thoughtful and often thought of Shunniang, unable to let go of his feelings for her. Three years passed, and as Qingming Festival approached, An San took his nephew to visit graves and then went to enjoy the West Lake. In Lin’an, it was customary for boat owners to go as they pleased—whether in groups of friends or with families, men and women alike would find a spot to sit, drink wine, enjoy the scenery, and have fun. An San led his nephew onto a boat and found a seat. Just as they sat down, another group of women boarded the boat. It turned out to be Lady Xijiangshi and her daughter, along with a maid and a nurse. An San recognized them and quickly bowed, asking his nephew to greet them as well. By now, Shunniang had grown up beautifully. After not seeing each other for three years, meeting on the lake was like finding a treasure. Although they sat at separate tables, they kept looking at each other, clearly feeling love for one another. It was unfortunate that others were watching, preventing them from expressing their feelings. When the boat reached Lake Heart Pavilion, An San and the other men went inside to stroll, while Le He pretended to have stomach pain and stayed in the cabin. He tried to talk to Lady Xijiangshi to get closer to Shunniang. They exchanged glances full of affection. After a while, the guests left the boat, and they were separated again. In the evening, they parted ways. An San sent his nephew back home.

Home. Le He was filled with thoughts of Shun Niang and composed a poem:

“Tender buds, fragrant yet unopened, not because of bees and butterflies do they arouse curiosity.”

“If in future I may be her companion on a small boat, I’ll return drunk from West Lake every day.”

Le He inscribed this poem on peach-colored paper, folded it into a square token, and kept it in his sleeve. He sneaked into the city and went to Xi’s house in Yongqing Alley to wait for Shun Niang, but found no way in. This happened several times. Hearing that the Temple of the Tide King was sacred, he secretly bought incense, candles, and fruits to pray before the deity, wishing to become husband and wife with Xi Shun Niang in this life. After praying, as he burned the paper money at the altar, the square token accidentally fell from his sleeve. A gust of wind blew the fire and burned it up. When he rushed to retrieve it, only the character “partner” remained. Le He picked it up and thought, “‘Partner’ implies two people, which is also an auspicious sign.” He was very pleased. Suddenly, he saw an old man sitting inside an archway, dressed simply yet with a distinctive appearance, holding a fan inscribed with the words “Marriage predestined.” Le He stepped forward and bowed, asking, “What is your surname, sir?” The old man replied, “My surname is Shi.” Le He asked again, “Can you predict matters of marriage?” The old man said, “I can somewhat forecast such things.” Le He said, “I, Le He, would be grateful if you could tell me where my destined partner lies.” The old man laughed and said, “You’re still young—why think about such things now?” Le He replied, “When Emperor Wu of Han was a child, his mother held him on her knees and asked, ‘Do you want A’jiao as your wife?’ The emperor replied, ‘If I get A’jiao, I’ll keep her in a golden house.’ There’s no difference between young and old when it comes to love.”

The old man then asked for the date and time, traced it on his fingers, and said, “Your destined spouse is someone you know, not a stranger.” Seeing that his prediction matched, Le He said, “To be honest with you, sir, I indeed have someone I know in mind. I wonder what the fate holds.” The old man led him to an octagonal well and told him to look into it to see if there was a connection. Le He reached out to look into the well but saw only turbulent waters, like vast seas, as smooth as mirrors. Inside stood a beautiful woman, about sixteen or seventeen years old, wearing a purple robe and an apricot-yellow skirt, delicate and lovely. Upon closer inspection, it was indeed Shun Niang. He was both shocked and overjoyed. But the old man pushed him from behind, causing him to fall right onto the woman. He cried out in surprise and suddenly woke up, realizing it was just a dream. His hands still clung tightly to the pillar of the pavilion. It was truly like: “The millet isn’t ripe yet; in a dream, I’ve reached Huaqing.”

When Le He woke up, he looked at the stone stele in the pavilion. The deity’s surname was Shi and name Gui. During the Tang Dynasty, he donated money to build dikes to protect against floods, and after his death, he was honored as the King of the Tides. Le He thought to himself, “So the old man I saw in the dream was actually the King of the Tides. If I fabricate a marriage match, it will almost certainly succeed.” He went home and told his mother to arrange a marriage proposal to Xi Shun Niang. Aunt An, being a simple woman who didn’t understand proper etiquette, immediately approached Lord Le about it. Lord Le said, “Matters of marriage require…”

A match made in heaven. Although my family once had six generations of scholars, it has declined over time, and we now rely on business to make a living. I would be delighted to marry into an honorable family with a distinguished background. But will her parents agree to such a marriage, fearing no one else will ask for her hand? If we send intermediaries to propose, it might only bring ridicule. Seeing his father’s refusal, Le He asked his mother to persuade her uncle to intercede. An Sanlao’s opinion was the same as Lord Le’s. Deeply disappointed, Le He spent the whole night sighing in frustration. The next morning, he framed a plaque with the words “Birthplace of My Beloved Wife Shunniang” and ate meals facing it three times a day; at night, he placed it beside his pillow, called out to her three times, and then went to bed. On festivals like Qingming on the third day of the third month, Double Ninth on the ninth day of the ninth month, Dragon Boat Festival, and the tide-watching events in August, he always dressed up in fine clothes and crowded among the people, hoping to chance upon Shunniang by luck. Other families with daughters, seeing that Le Xiao Sheren was older, also came to propose marriages. His parents wanted to agree several times, but Le He firmly refused, making a vow that he would not consider marriage until Shunniang from the Xi family was married off.

By coincidence, while Le He vowed not to marry, Shunniang also faced no suitors; fortune did not favor her, and she remained unmarried. Time flew by, and three years passed in the blink of an eye. Le He was now eighteen, and Shunniang sixteen. The man had no home, and the woman had no family.

Though both were handsome and beautiful, what would become of their marriage? Fortunately, neither’s family had made a decision yet—only if the magpie brought good news could their union happen.

Let’s turn to another story. At that time, peace reigned between the north and south. That year, a envoy from the Jin Dynasty named Gao Jingshan came to China on a diplomatic mission. Gao Jingshan was skilled in writing, so the court appointed a Hanlin scholar to accompany him. After the Mid-Autumn Festival, the birthday of the Eighteen Tides arrived. A colorful pavilion was set up by the river outside the city, at the Zhejiang Pavilion, where a grand banquet was held to entertain the envoy as he watched the tides. There were more than one official accompanying him. The commander led the naval forces, sailing on warships back and forth across the river, firing colorful fireworks. Wealthy families along the river strung up colorful banners for miles, making the river look like a carpet of silk. Hundreds of water performers showed off their skills—some riding rolling logs, others performing water puppetry. One could see waves crashing against the shore as boats moved with them. The turbulent currents rushed in from the sea, roaring loudly as if reaching the heavens. From afar, it resembled silk ribbons flying in the air, and from afar, it sounded like an army charging. The people of Wu were brave and skillful at navigating the white waves; fishermen moved effortlessly through the river, showing off their prowess. Truly, the vast blue waves rolled everywhere, and snow-white waves rushed toward the clouds.

When the northern envoy Gao Jingshan saw this, his hair stood on end, and he couldn’t stop marveling at such a spectacular sight. Scholar Fan said, “Seeing this, why not compose a beautiful poem?” He immediately had the writing tools brought over. Gao Jingshan declined modestly.

Repeatedly, he composed the poem “Niannvjiao”:
Clouds and waves stretch for thousands of miles, presenting a scene of unparalleled beauty through the ages—scenery unique to the southeast. A thin line of clouds crosses the azure sea; suddenly, thunder roars like a mighty wall. Thousands of horses seem to gallop toward the sky, flocks of geese plunge downward, with swirling mist and snow. The people of Wu are brave and valiant, truly heroic in braving the waves.
I imagine flags in red, the melodies of Wu and Chu music, all sounding together with those from the barbarians. With such beautiful landscapes and people, how can one believe that evil forces cannot be eradicated? Moreover, this is an imperial palace, surrounded by stars symbolizing good fortune; even the slightest light can be seen. In awe, I remain silent, waiting by the railing for the moon to rise.

After Gao Jingshan finished composing it, everyone present praised his talent. Only Scholar Fan said, “Your poem is excellent, but it’s a pity that ‘thousands of horses galloping toward the sky, flocks of geese plunging downward’ makes the tide seem too gentle. The tide should be compared to the might of a jade dragon.” Then Scholar Fan composed “Shuitiaogetou,” saying:
Ascending to the heights to gaze eastward, I realize how vast the universe is. Sea and sky meet; the tide rises from a mere tip at the horizon. Its fierce momentum rivals that of five dragons playing in the water, constantly emerging and disappearing among the waves. Snowy waves and swirling clouds—waves like frozen crystal. They sweep across the waves, rolling in gracefully, as if the ocean itself is in motion. Heaven bestows its silver rivers, creating a magnificent sight both north and south of the river. I wonder where those who seek fortune go? They ride on celestial steeds—when will they return? The heavens’ silver rivers are narrow, yet their waters flow down to the human world!

After Scholar Fan finished his poem, Gao Jingshan saw it and exclaimed in delight, “What a wonderful piece! It surpasses descriptions of horses racing—truly like jade dragons playing in the water.” Without further ado, everyone enjoyed drinks in celebration.

Meanwhile, in Lin’an, wealthy and common households alike heard that the court was hosting northern envoys that day, with various performances arranged. All the men and women in the city went to watch. Le He learned that the Xi family also planned to go see the tide, so early in the morning they got ready and headed to the mouth of the Qiantang River. They searched around but couldn’t find Xi Shunniang. Eventually, they arrived at a place called “Tiankaituohua,” also known as “Tuanweitou.” It was named so because one could see the tide from all sides, as if surrounded by a circle. Over time, people mispronounced it as “Tuanyu Tou.” At this spot, the tide was extremely strong; many people lost their footing and were swept away by the waves, while others had their clothes soaked. They all gathered by Xiapu Bridge to dry themselves. Someone composed a poem titled “Linjiangxian” mocking those who went to watch the tide:
Since ancient times, Qiantang has been unmatched. People flock in groups to watch the tide, not even waiting for Mid-Autumn Festival. They head to the riverbank to enjoy themselves. On the beach, they gaze at the rising tide, unaware of the waves that reach nearly the sky. With clean headscarves, they struggle to keep their clothes dry. By Xiapu Bridge, it’s like being by a pool of despair—naked and disheveled like ghosts. Back in the city, they dry their clothes, still wondering when the tide will recede.

Le He searched around “Tuanweitou” but didn’t find Shunniang. He turned around and searched again. At that time, the area was crowded with people surrounding tents and colorful screens. Le He, being nimble, squeezed through the crowd, looking carefully step by step. After walking for a while, he saw a woman enter one of the tents.

Le He recognized this woman as Xi’s wet nurse. Following closely behind, he indeed saw Xi’s family—men and women—all gathered together, drinking and enjoying themselves. Le He didn’t dare get too close, yet he also didn’t want to stay too far away. He stood right beside the pavilion, staring intently at Shun Niang, wishing he could step forward, embrace her, and speak with her. The young lady looked up and, from afar, recognized him as Le Xiaosheren. Seeing him hesitate and act uncertainly, she felt pity for him. But since her parents were always by her side, never leaving her side, there was no way for them to meet. Truly, their heartfelt feelings were conveyed without words.

Just as Le He and Xi Shun Niang were gazing at each other in distress, they suddenly heard that the tide was coming. Before the sound faded, it sounded like a mountain collapsing—the tidal wave was several zhang high as it rushed forward. There’s a poem to prove this: “Silver mountains rise in stacks, towering like rabbits; the waves surge through the air as if flying. Surely it’s Zi Xu’s spirit still alive, exerting its power to this day.”

That tidal wave was even larger than in previous years, reaching high up onto the shore, overturning the silk canopies and knocking down the pavilions. Everyone started shouting and stepped back. Shun Niang, distracted by Le Xiaosheren, lost her sense of danger for a moment, took a few steps forward, slipped, and fell into the waves.

Pitiful! A girl from a luxurious household became someone tossed about by the waves. Le He, anticipating the tide, moved to a higher place. Though reluctant to leave Shun Niang behind, he kept his eyes on the pavilion and shouted, “Avoid the water!” Suddenly, he saw Shun Niang fall into the river. This was a shock—there was no time to think. At the moment she fell, Le He’s gaze followed her into the water, and without hesitation, he jumped in as well, rolling along with the waves. He couldn’t swim at all! But driven by love, he risked his life. Meanwhile, Xi and his wife, seeing their daughter fall into the water, panicked and cried out, “Save her! Save her! We’ll reward generously whoever saves our daughter!” Shun Niang wore a purple robe and apricot-yellow skirt, making her easy to spot. Some wave-skimming youths, walking on top of the waves as if on solid ground, rushed over at the call to rescue the girl in the purple robe and apricot-yellow skirt.

Le He jumped into the water and reached the bottom, feeling no pain from the waves, as if in a dream. When he arrived at the Temple of the Tide God, he saw bright lights and swirling incense smoke. Le He bowed and prayed to the Tide God to save Shun Niang from her perilous situation. The Tide God replied, “I have already taken Xi Shun under my care; now I hand her over to you.” With that, a little spirit emerged from behind the divine curtain and brought Shun Niang out. Le He thanked the Tide God and led Shun Niang out of the temple.

The door. They were overjoyed with each other, unable to utter a word; their four arms clutched tightly around one another. Their bodies felt either heavy or light as they rose above the water’s surface. Those who watched the tides saw the purple robe and apricot-yellow skirt appearing in the waves and hurried to seize them. When they were pulled out of the water, it wasn’t just one person but two. Four or five people lifted them by head and feet and carried them ashore. They said to Xi Jiangshi, “We’re glad we’ve saved even your son-in-law!” When Xi’s parents, maids, and nurses came to see them, it was August, and everyone was wearing thin clothes. The two lay face to face, chest to chest, closely entwined, too tightly bound to be separated or awakened. Their bodies were still warm, in a state between life and death. The parents were extremely anxious and distressed, not knowing what had happened. Xi’s family members cried together. Everyone rushed to take a look, saying such a miracle had never been seen before.

Meanwhile, Le Meishan was at home when someone told him his son had gone to “Tuanyu Tou” to watch the tides and had been swept into the river by the waves. In panic, he stumbled along until he reached “Tuanweitu”. He then heard that a man and a woman had been rescued, and the woman was Miss Xi from Xi Jiangshi’s family. Le Meishan pushed through the crowd to take a look and recognized his son, Le He. Calling out “My dear son!”, he burst into tears, saying, “During your lifetime you couldn’t find a partner to play the flute with; who would have thought you’d end up united after death?” Xi Jiangshi asked about the situation, and Le Meishan recounted how three years earlier his son had insisted on proposing marriage and sworn not to marry anyone else first. Xi’s parents complained, saying, “Our Le family has a long history of scholars. Besides, the two were young and studied together—why didn’t you tell us sooner? Now that they’re awake, we’re willing to give our daughter to your son.” Both families kept calling out to their children. After about half an hour, they gradually regained consciousness but continued to hold onto each other tightly. Le Meishan said, “My son is waking up. Mr. Jiangshi has agreed to give you Shun Niang as your wife.” Before he could finish speaking, Le He opened his eyes and said, “Don’t make empty promises, father-in-law!” He jumped up and bowed to Xi’s parents in gratitude. Miss Xi also woke up soon after. Both of them were fully recovered and even spat out some water. Xi killed Xi Jiangshi, while Le killed Le Da Ye. Both families changed into new clothes and carried them home in a small sedan chair.

Later, Xi Jiangshi asked a matchmaker to go to the Le family to discuss marriage, wishing to adopt Le He as his son-in-law. The matchmaker was An Sanlao. The Le family agreed without hesitation. A suitable day was chosen, and Xi’s family sent gifts such as gold and silk. With music and festivities, Le He was brought home to get married. Their love for each other goes without saying. After a month, Le He and Shun Niang prepared sacrifices and went to Chaoyu Temple to offer thanks. Seeing how intelligent Le He was, Xi Jiangshi hired a tutor to teach him at home, and he later passed all the exams. To this day, in Lin’an, stories about successful marriages still mention the phrase “Xi Le He Shun”. There’s a poem to prove it:
“Young, filled with passion, growing wilder each day,
Yet it was love that moved the king of the tides.”

When love reaches its deepest depths, life and death’s trials mean nothing.

Volume 24: The Lady of Jade Hall Meets Her Husband in Adversity

Unlike the earlier version of “The Story of Prince Wang’s Aspirations,” here the prince first wanders through the streets as a youth; upon meeting her in the Jade Hall, their fates are intertwined. Tens of thousands of gold coins are spent, while tears stream from her beautiful eyes. Wealth is lost, servants and horses are taken away, and he ends up imprisoned alongside criminals. Despite all hardships, their bond remains unbroken until old age.

It is said that during the Zhengde era, there was a man in Nanjing’s Jinling city named Wang Qiong, also known as Si Zhu. He passed the imperial examinations in the Yichou year and rose to become Minister of Rites. Due to Liu Dai’s abuse of power, he was impeached and ordered to return to his hometown. Not daring to delay, he packed up his belongings and family and set off. Lord Wang regretted that some of his salary was still owed to others and couldn’t be retrieved immediately. His eldest son was a clerk in Nanjing, and his second son was preparing for the imperial exams. After some hesitation, he called his third son over. This son’s full name was Jinglong, with the courtesy name Shunqing; he was just sixteen years old. He had fresh-looking features and a graceful appearance. He could read ten lines at a glance and write essays effortlessly—truly a talented young man. Lord Wang cherished him as much as his own breath or most precious possession. He summoned him and instructed, “I’ll leave you here to study. Wang Ding will collect the debts. Once the money is gathered, return home quickly so as not to worry your parents. I’ll leave all the accounts here for you.” He then called Wang Ding over and said, “I’m leaving you here with your uncle to collect debts. Do not let him engage in reckless behavior. If I find out, you’ll face severe punishment.” Wang Ding bowed and said, “I wouldn’t dare.” The next day, they packed up and set off. Wang Ding bid farewell to the prince, and they went to Beijing to find new lodging. The prince obeyed his father’s orders, studying at the new place while Wang Ding collected the debts. In just over three months, all thirty thousand silver coins were recovered. The prince checked the accounts carefully and found no deficiencies, then instructed Wang Ding to choose a day to leave. The prince said, “Wang Ding, since everything is settled, let’s go stroll around the streets and alleys for a while before leaving tomorrow.” Wang Ding locked the door and asked the landlord to keep a close eye on the guest. The landlord replied, “Don’t worry, I know what to do.” The two left the lodging and went to the main street to admire the sights of the capital. They saw crowds of people and bustling traffic. The crowds represented the voices of the mountains and rivers; the traffic consisted of officials from various ministries. Those doing business brought rare treasures from all corners of the country; those leisurely strolling enjoyed the blessings of the emperor. Every alley was adorned with colorful fabrics, and every household sang songs of joy.

The prince was delighted, but suddenly he saw five or seven sons of high-ranking officials, each playing the lute and drinking merrily. The prince said, “Wang Ding, what a lively place!” Wang Ding replied, “Uncle, this isn’t even the liveliest place yet!” The two went to Donghua Gate. The prince opened his eyes wide to take in the magnificent scenes.

Upon arrival, they saw golden phoenixes adorning the gates and golden dragons on the pillar bases. Wang Ding asked, “Third uncle, how is it?” The young master replied, “It’s truly a wonderful place.” They walked forward again and asked Wang Ding, “Where is this?” Wang Ding said, “This is Zi Jin City.” The young master glanced inside and saw an atmosphere of prosperity and brilliance. After observing for a while, he realized that nothing could surpass the wealth and glory of emperors, and he sighed deeply.

Leaving Donghua Gate, they continued walking for some time until they arrived at another place where several well-dressed women stood in front of the gate. The young master asked, “Wang Ding, where is this?” Wang Ding replied, “This is a tavern.” So they entered the tavern with Wang Ding.

The young master sat down and saw five or seven tables filled with people drinking. At one table, two women were sitting together drinking. The young master found those women extremely beautiful, even more so than those standing outside the gate. As he was looking at them, the bartender brought the drinks. The young master asked, “Where are these women from?” The bartender said, “They are Cui Xiang and Cui Hong, daughters of the Yi Cheng Jin family.” The young master remarked, “They look very graceful.” The bartender added, “And that’s not even the best of them. Their family has another beauty, the third sister, named Yu Tang Chun, who is extremely beautiful. But the brothel owner asks too high a price, so she hasn’t been arranged yet.” Hearing this, the young master paid the bill and went downstairs, saying, “Wang Ding, let’s take a walk in the Chun Yuan alley.” Wang Ding warned, “Third uncle, don’t go. If the master finds out…” The young master replied, “It’s fine. I’ll just take a quick look and come back.” They then went to the entrance of the alley. Indeed, there were flower-lined streets, embroidered pavilions, and red-lacquered buildings. Everywhere, people played musical instruments and applied cosmetics. Gold was spent to buy laughter—only princes and nobles could afford such things; beautiful women invited others to enjoy themselves. Just as he thought the air was filled with fragrance, he suddenly heard singing from another courtyard. Even scholars could be bewitched by such beauty, let alone true monks who might break their vows.

The young master was dazzled and hesitant, not knowing which house belonged to the Yi Cheng Jin family. Just then, a young man selling melon seeds named Jin Ge came over. The young master asked, “Which house belongs to the Yi Cheng Jin family?” Jin Ge replied, “Uncle, are you trying to play tricks? I’ll show you the way.” Wang Ding said, “My master doesn’t engage in such things. Don’t make a mistake.” The young master insisted, “I just want to see them once.”

Jin Ge went and informed the brothel owner. She hurriedly came out to greet them and invited them in for tea. Seeing that she wanted to keep them for tea, Wang Ding became anxious and suggested, “Third uncle, maybe we should go back.” The brothel owner asked, “Who is this person?” The young master replied, “He’s just a humble servant.” The brothel owner said, “Brother, come in and have some tea too. Why be so stingy?” The young master ignored her and followed the brothel owner inside. Wang Ding warned, “Third uncle, don’t go in. If the master finds out, it won’t be my problem.” He muttered to himself behind them. The young master didn’t pay attention and sat down inside.

The brothel owner told her maid to prepare tea. After the tea was served, she asked, “What is your surname, sir?” The young man replied, “My surname is Wang. My father is a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Rites.” Hearing this, the brothel owner bowed and said, “I’m sorry for not recognizing you earlier; please forgive me.” The young man said it was no problem and asked not to worry about it. He had long heard of the fame of her daughter, Yutangchun, and came specifically to meet her.

The brothel owner said, “Yesterday, a client wanted to arrange a meeting with my daughter and offered a gift of 100 taels of silver, but I refused him.”

The young man replied, “100 taels? That’s nothing! I wouldn’t dare exaggerate. Apart from the current emperor, my father ranks among the highest officials. Even my ancestors were once high-ranking officials.” Hearing this, the brothel owner was secretly pleased and ordered Cuihong to invite the third sister out to meet the distinguished guest. After a while, Cuihong returned and said that the third sister wasn’t feeling well and declined to come. The brothel owner stood up with a smile and said, “My daughter has been spoiled since childhood. Let me go call her myself.” Wang Ding, anxious, said, “If she won’t come, then leave it at that—don’t go calling her again.” But the brothel owner ignored him, went into the room, and called, “Third sister, my child, your luck has come! The son of Minister Wang has come specifically because he admires you.” Yutangchun kept her head down and said nothing. The brothel owner hurriedly urged, “My child, Wang Gongzi is a very handsome man, not even sixteen or seventeen years old, with plenty of wealth. If you can win his heart, you’ll not only enjoy a good reputation but also live comfortably for life.” Hearing this, Yutangchun immediately got dressed to meet the young man. Before leaving, the brothel owner warned her, “My child, be attentive and polite—don’t neglect him.” Yutangchun replied, “I understand.”

When the young man saw Yutangchun, he was impressed by her beauty: her hair styled like dark clouds, her brows curved like new moons, her skin as pure as snow, and her face glowing like the morning glow. Her sleeves featured delicate jade-like shapes, and her skirt was adorned with narrow gold trim. Her simple makeup added to her charm; even without makeup, she was stunning. Among all the beautiful girls in the house, she surpassed them all in grace and beauty.

Yutangchun glanced at the young man—his clear features, fair complexion, red lips, graceful figure, and neat clothes—and was secretly delighted. She then bowed to the young man. The brothel owner said, “This isn’t a proper place for a distinguished guest. Please come to the study for a brief conversation.” The young man agreed and entered the study. It was indeed beautifully furnished, with bright windows, a clean desk, ancient paintings, and an antique stove. But the young man wasn’t interested in examining these things; his eyes were fixed on Yutangchun.

The brothel owner helped by having her daughter sit beside the young man, and she instructed the maids to prepare wine. Hearing about the wine, Wang Ding became anxious and kept urging the third sister to return. The brothel owner gave the maids a signal: “Invite this gentleman into the room to drink wine.” Cuixiang and Cuihong said, “Brother-in-law, please come inside. We’ll drink some celebratory wine with you.” Wang Ding initially refused, but Cuihong and the others pulled him inside. With sweet words, they persuaded him to drink a few cups. At first, he was reluctant, but later he became enthusiastic and even forgot about everything else, enjoying himself fully.

While drinking, he heard a message that the young master was calling for Wang Ding. Wang Ding hurried to the study and saw cups and dishes laid out; the servant had already arranged for musicians to play instruments. The young master drank merrily. Wang Ding stepped closer, and the young master whispered in his ear, “Go get two hundred taels of silver, four pieces of silver bars, plus twenty more taels in smaller coins, and bring them here.” Wang Ding asked, “What does my third uncle need all this silver for?” The young master replied, “Don’t meddle. With no choice, Wang Ding went downstairs, opened his leather suitcase, took out four fifty-tael gold coins along with the silver bars, then returned to the courtyard and said, ‘My third uncle has it.’” The young master didn’t even look at them and ordered them given to the courtesan, saying, “The silver and bars are as a gift for your daughter’s first meeting; these twenty taels in smaller coins can be used for various expenses.” Wang Ding thought the young master wanted to take Third Sister back, using so much money. Hearing it was just a gift for the first meeting, he was so shocked that his tongue stuck out three inches. Meanwhile, as soon as the courtesan saw all the gifts, she told a maid to bring over an empty table. Wang Ding placed the silver and bars on the table. The courtesan pretended to decline briefly before calling for Jade Sister, saying, “My child, thank the young master.” She added, “Today it’s Young Master Wang, and tomorrow it will be Brother-in-Law Wang.” She then sent the maid inside to take the gifts. “I’ve prepared some drinks in my room; please enjoy them freely, young master.” The young master and Jade Sister held hands and went to the chamber, where a small table surrounded by screens was already set with delicacies and fine foods. The young master sat down, while the courtesan played the zither and Jade Hall Spring sang to accompany him. It was so enchanting that it made their bones relax and their souls wander in delight. Seeing that it was getting late and the three officials still hadn’t left, Wang Ding urged them several times. The maid, following the courtesan’s orders, refused to pass on his messages. Unable to enter the room, Wang Ding waited until dusk. Cuìhóng offered to let him stay overnight, but he refused and went back to his place. The young master continued drinking until the second watch of the night before leaving. Jade Hall Spring served him kindly, helped him undress, and they spent the night together in love, a story too detailed to describe.

At dawn, the courtesan ordered the kitchen to prepare food and soup, then went to the chamber to seek favor, calling out, “Brother-in-Law Wang, what joy!” The maids and servants all came to kowtow. The young master instructed Wang Ding to give each of them one tael of silver. Cuìxiāng and Cuìhóng each received a set of clothes along with three taels in silver. Wang Ding had originally planned to pick up the young master and return to his residence in the morning, but seeing him spend money so freely, he sensed something was wrong.

The young master thought to himself, “It’s so convenient to get whatever I need from these servants. I might as well move my leather suitcase to the courtyard and handle things myself.” When the courtesan saw the suitcase arrive, she became even more obsequious. It was like having cold food every morning and lantern festivals every night; before he knew it, he had stayed there for over a month. The old courtesan, wanting to show her gratitude, arranged a grand banquet with music and performances, inviting only the three officials and Jade Sister. Raising her cup, she toasted the young master and said, “Brother-in-Law Wang, my daughter and…”

“You two have become husband and wife; may your bond last forever. For all matters at home, I hope you’ll support each other.” The three officials were probably worried, while the brothel keeper felt uneasy, regarding that silver as worthless dirt. She lied on behalf of the old brothel keeper, incurring many debts, all of which were paid off for her. They also made several pieces of jewelry and drinking utensils, prepared some clothes for her, allowed her to renovate her house, and even built a pleasure house for Yu Tangchun as her bedroom. To whatever she asked, everything was granted. Truly, it’s said: “Wine doesn’t intoxicate people; they get drunk on their own. Beauty doesn’t bewilder people; they get lost in their own desires.”

The family members were so anxious they didn’t know what to do. They urged Wang Ding to go back time and again. At first, the three officials gave vague promises, but when pressed, they even cursed Wang Ding harshly. With no other choice, Wang Ding had to ask Yu Jie to persuade them. Yu Jie, who knew well how dangerous that brothel keeper was, also tried hard to persuade the young man, saying, “No one is happy forever; flowers don’t stay bright for long. As soon as you run out of money, she’ll turn against you and stop recognizing you.” But Wang Ding still had some money on hand, so he didn’t believe her words. He thought to himself, “If my beloved doesn’t listen to her, why should I listen?” Then he thought, “If the master finds out about this, what will happen? It’s better to go home and tell him; let him decide what to do. It has nothing to do with me.” So Wang Ding said to the three officials, “I’m useless in Beijing; I’d better go back first.” The three officials, already annoyed by Wang Ding’s interference, were glad to see him leave. They said, “Wang Ding, when you go, I’ll give you ten taels as expenses. When you get home, check with the master and just say the accounts aren’t settled yet, so your uncle sent me here first.” Yu Jie also gave five taels, and the brothel keeper gave five taels as well. Wang Ding bid farewell to the three officials and left. Truly, “Each should clean the snow in front of their own door; don’t worry about the frost on others’ roofs.”

As for the three officials, they were blinded by wine and lust and didn’t want to go home. Time flew by, and before they knew it, a year had passed. That wicked woman kept making demands day after day. Not to mention handling expenses, buying ingredients, hiring maids, she even demanded money for her birthday celebrations. The three officials ran out of money. Once she saw he had no money, she became indifferent and stopped treating him as before. After another half month, the whole family started arguing. The brothel keeper said to Yu Jie, “With money, one is like a high-ranking official; without it, one’s like someone in an orphanage. Since Young Master Wang has no money, why stay here? Have you ever seen a high-ranking official stick around with a poor wretch?” Yu Jie dismissed her words as nonsense.

One day, the three officials went downstairs, and a maid reported it to the brothel keeper. The brothel keeper called Yu Tangchun down and asked, “When are you going to send Wang San away?” Seeing that the conversation wasn’t going well, Yu Jie turned and went back upstairs. The brothel keeper followed up and said, “Don’t you want to talk to me?” Yu Jie replied, “You people are so heartless! Young Master Wang gave us thirty thousand taels of silver. If not for him, our family would be in debt everywhere—how could we have such plenty today?” The brothel keeper flew into anger and rushed at her...

She cried, “The third son is beating his mother!” The wretched woman heard this, without distinguishing right from wrong, grabbed a whip, rushed upstairs, pushed Yu Jie to the ground, and began beating her wildly. The maids were in chaos, with blood and tears flowing everywhere.

Meanwhile, San Guan was outside the Wu Gate, chatting with friends. Suddenly, he felt his face heat up and his body tremble. Suspicious, he bid farewell and headed straight for Baihua Tower. Seeing Yu Jie in such a state, his heart was torn apart. He hurriedly comforted her and asked what had happened. Yu Jie opened her eyes, saw San Guan, and struggled to gather her strength, saying, “My family affairs have nothing to do with you.” San Guan replied, “My dear, you’ve been beaten for my sake—how can you say it has nothing to do with you? I’ll leave tomorrow so as not to burden you further.” Yu Jie said, “Brother, I advised you to go back at first, but you wouldn’t listen to me. Now I’m alone here, with no money, and over thirty miles away—how can I go? How can I rest easy? Look, we can’t return home and end up stranded outside; it’s better to endure for a few more days.” Hearing this, San Guan collapsed to the ground in despair. Yu Jie stepped forward, hugged him, and said, “Brother, don’t go downstairs anymore. Let’s see what that vile woman will do.” San Guan said, “If I go home, I won’t be able to see my parents and siblings; if I stay, I can’t bear her harsh words. And I can’t bear to leave you. If I stay, that vile woman will keep beating you.” Yu Jie said, “Brother, don’t worry about whether she beats you or not. We’ve been husband and wife since childhood—how can you leave me suddenly?” As night fell, the maid usually brought a lamp upstairs, but today there was no fire either. Seeing San Guan in pain, Yu Jie pulled him onto the bed and made him lie down. He kept sighing deeply. San Guan said to Yu Jie, “It’s better if I leave! Otherwise, when wealthy guests arrive, you’ll have to suffer even more.” Yu Jie said, “Brother, let that vile woman beat me however she wants. Please don’t get up under any circumstances. As long as you’re here, I’m alive; if you really leave, I’ll just die.” The two cried until dawn. When they got up, no one brought them even a bowl of water. Yu Jie called out, “Waiter, bring some tea for your brother-in-law.” The brothel owner heard this and cursed loudly, “Dareful servant! Stop beating her and let Xiao San come and get it herself!” Neither the maid nor the servant dared to come. With no choice, Yu Jie went downstairs herself, fetched a bowl of rice, and brought it upstairs with tears streaming down her face, saying, “Brother, eat something.” Just as he was about to eat, he heard cursing from below. If he didn’t eat, Yu Jie would persuade him again. He finally took a bite, when the vile woman shouted from below, “Xiao San, you dareful servant! How can a ‘skilled wife make porridge without rice’?” San Guan clearly heard her words but had to endure. Truly, those with resources are full of spirit, while those with no money feel ashamed.

As for the vile woman, she was angry with Yu Jie and wanted to beat her. If she hurt her, Yu Jie wouldn’t be able to earn money; if she didn’t beat her, she still longed for Wang Xiao San. This put Xiao San under immense pressure. Being a man obsessed with wine and women, he considered committing suicide at that moment. If the high official sent someone to rescue her, it would be too late. After much deliberation, he found no solution. The brothel owner said, “I have a clever way to get her to leave our place. Tomorrow is your turn…”

It was the girl’s birthday; it was something like this, called “the Reverse House Plan.” Wang Ba said, “That’s fine.” The brothel keeper called up to the girl upstairs, “Has your brother-in-law eaten yet?” The brothel keeper came upstairs and said, “Don’t blame me! My household affairs have nothing to do with your brother-in-law.” She then set out the wine as usual. While drinking, the old brothel keeper hurriedly said with a smile, “Third Sister, tomorrow is your daughter’s birthday. You should ask Brother-in-law Wang to prepare a gift and send it to her.” Sister Yu prepared the gift that very night. Early the next morning, the old brothel keeper said, “Brother-in-law Wang, get up early. It’s still cool; you can take the gift to your daughter’s house.” After walking half a mile away from the inn, the old brothel keeper pretended to be surprised and said, “Brother-in-law Wang, I forgot to lock the door. Go back and lock it.” Not knowing the trick, the young man went back to lock the door. Meanwhile, Wang Ba came around from Deng’s Alley and said, “Third Sister, there’s a messenger on your head.” Suddenly, Sister Yu turned around, but Wang Ba whipped her twice on the head and then fled out of the city along the stream.

The three officials returned to the inn, locked the door, and rushed outside to look for Sister Yu. They didn’t see her and encountered a group of people. The young man bowed and asked, “Have you seen a man and a woman go this way?” Those people weren’t good; they were thieves. Seeing the three officials dressed neatly, they came up with a plan and said, “They just went west of the reeds.” The three officials thanked them, and the young man headed toward the reeds. Those men led the three officials into the reeds and waited there in front. When the three officials got close, they jumped up and shouted, then grabbed them, stripped off their clothes and hats, and tied them to the ground with ropes. The three officials struggled uselessly, feeling dazed. Until dawn, they could only think of Yu Tangchun, saying, “Sister, you don’t know where you are; how can you know I’m suffering here?” Not to mention the young man’s troubles, Wang Ba, that lustful woman, took Sister Yu away, traveling 120 miles in one day before stopping at an inn. Sister Yu knew she had fallen for Wang Ba’s trick and worried constantly about the three officials, tears streaming down her face.

Back to the three officials in the reeds, they kept calling for help. Many locals came over, untied the ropes from the young man, and asked, “Where are you from?” Too shy to say he was the young man or that he had been with Yu Tangchun, and with no clothes on, tears in his eyes, he said, “Uncles, I’m from Henan. I came here for some small business. Unfortunately, I met some villains who stripped me of all my clothes and left me without a penny.” Seeing the young man’s youth, the people gave him a few pieces of clothing and a hat. The three officials thanked them, put on the torn clothes and hat, but still couldn’t find Sister Yu and had no money. He continued on to Beijing, crawling along rooftops with his head down, without anything to eat from dawn till dusk. Starving, he found shelter at night, but no one would take him in. Someone said, “With your appearance, which family would take you in? Go to the main shop entrance; there’s someone who beats a gong. If you work hard day and night, you can make a living.” The three officials went straight to the main shop entrance, where they saw someone beating a gong. The three officials stepped forward and called out:

“Uncle, I’ll take the first watch.” The official asked, “What’s your surname?” The young man replied, “I’m Wang Xiao San.” The official said, “Then you take the second watch! If you miss your shift, you won’t get paid, and you still have to work.” Wang Xiao San was used to a carefree life; he was too lazy and missed his shift. The official scolded him, “Xiao San, you wretched fool! You don’t deserve such a easy life. Hurry up and leave.” With no other choice, Wang Xiao San went to an old man’s residence to stay there. As the saying goes, in different places, people experience different fortunes.

As for that ungrateful prostitute, she said, “We’ve been here for a month. I think Wang San must have gone home by now. Let’s go back.” They packed their things and returned to their original residence. Only Yu Jie kept thinking about the young man day and night, neglecting food and sleep. The prostitute came upstairs and tried to persuade her, “My child, Wang San has already gone home. Why do you still think about him? There are so many noble young men in Beijing. You keep thinking only of Wang San and refuse to serve customers. You know my nature—no need to say more.” With that, she left. Yu Jie cried bitterly, wondering how Wang Shunqing could have left without any money. “If you were leaving, at least give some notice so I won’t keep worrying. When will I be able to see you again?” Not to mention Yu Jie’s thoughts about the young man, let’s talk about how the young man survived in Beijing by begging. On the streets of Beijing, there was a skilled craftsman named Wang Yinjiang who had once made wine vessels for Minister Wang. The young man, while working at the old woman’s house, used all of Wang Yinjiang’s jewelry-making tools. One day, as he passed by the old man’s residence, he suddenly saw the young man. He was shocked, stepped forward, grabbed him, and said, “Uncle! What’s become of you?” Wang Xiao San told him everything from start to finish. Wang Yinjiang said, “Since ancient times, there have been heartless people! Uncle, come stay with us for a few days. We’ll provide you with simple food and drink, and someone from my master’s household will come to pick you up later.” Overjoyed, Wang Xiao San followed him to Wang Yinjiang’s home. Wang Yinjiang treated him with great respect as a son of a minister and took good care of him for over half a month. His wife, however, grew impatient when no one from the minister’s household came to pick him up. She thought her husband was lying. While he was out shopping, she said, “We have our own family to feed—how can we spare food for others? We kindly invited you to stay for a few days, but everyone must fend for themselves eventually. We can’t keep feeding you forever.” Unable to bear it any longer, Wang Xiao San lowered his head and left. He wandered around until he arrived at the Guan Temple. Realizing that Guan Yu was the most sacred deity, he decided to seek his help. He entered the temple, knelt before the statue, and recounted how that ungrateful prostitute had betrayed him. After praying for a long time, he stood up and admired the paintings depicting the deeds of the Three Kingdoms in the corridors.

Meanwhile, on the street outside the temple, a young man was shouting, “Local melon seeds—one bucket per yuan. Gaoyou duck eggs—half an egg per yuan.” Who was this man? It was Jin Ge, the melon seller. Jin Ge said, “It’s just that business isn’t doing well these days due to poor harvests.”

At that time, when Uncle Wang was still at our monastery, he took care of providing two hundred pieces of food for a while, but after he left, my parents couldn’t afford it anymore. Since Uncle Wang’s family has gone, who will buy such things now? The market hasn’t been open for two or three days—how can we get by? I’ll go rest in the temple before continuing on.”

Jin Ge entered the temple, placed the plates on the altar, and knelt down to bow. The Three Officials recognized him as Jin Ge and, too ashamed to face him, covered their faces and sat by the threshold. After bowing, Jin Ge stood up and also sat by the threshold. The Three Officials thought Jin Ge had left the temple, so they lowered their hands, but Jin Ge recognized them and said, “Uncle, why are you here?” The Three Officials, filled with shame and tears, recounted what had happened earlier. Jin Ge said, “Uncle, don’t cry. Let me invite you to eat something.” The Three Officials replied, “I’ve already eaten.” Jin Ge then asked, “Have you not seen your aunt these past two days?” The Three Officials said, “I haven’t seen her for a long time! Jin Ge, please go to our monastery secretly and tell my aunt how poor I am now. See what she says, then come back and tell me.” Jin Ge agreed, picked up the plates, and headed out. The Three Officials added, “Go there and see the situation. If she misses me, tell her I’m in such a plight here; if she doesn’t truly care for me, then don’t say anything either—just come back and let me know. That family treats people differently depending on whether they have money or not.” Jin Ge said, “I know.” After bidding farewell to the Three Officials, he went to the courtyard and stood outside the building.

As for Yu Jie, she rested her chin in her hand, wiping away her tears with her sleeve, calling out repeatedly, “Wang Shunqing, my brother! Do you not know where you’ve gone?” Jin Ge said, “Ah, she really misses Uncle Wang!” With a cough, Yu Jie heard him and asked, “Who’s outside?” Jin Ge went upstairs and said, “It’s me. I’ve come to buy some melon seeds for you.” Tears streamed down Yu Jie’s eyes as she said, “Jin Ge, even if there were lamb and fine wine, I wouldn’t have the heart to eat melon seeds.” Jin Ge asked, “Aunt, why do you seem so distant these past two days?” Yu Jie ignored him. Jin Ge asked again, “Do you miss Uncle Wang, or someone else? Tell me, and I’ll take you to them.” Yu Jie said, “Since Uncle Wang left, I think of him every day. Who else could there be? I once remembered an ancient story…” Jin Ge asked, “Who was it?” Yu Jie replied, “In the past, there was a beautiful woman named Ya Xian. Zheng Yuanhe spent all his gold on her and tried to win her heart through songs. Later, he focused on studying poetry and books and became famous. Ya Xian became renowned in the world of romance. I always aspire to be like Ya Xian—it would be great if Uncle Wang could be like Zheng Yuanhe.”

Hearing this, Jin Ge remained silent, thinking to himself, “Uncle Wang is just like Zheng Yuanhe now—although he doesn’t compose songs, he still begs for food in the monastery.” Then he softly called out to his aunt and said, “Uncle Wang is currently resting in the temple. He asked me to secretly give you some money so you can help him get to Nanjing.” Yu Jie was shocked and said, “Jin Ge, don’t deceive me.” Jin Ge replied, “Aunt, if you don’t believe me—”

“Come with me to the temple and take a look,” Yu Jie said. “How far is it from here to the temple?” Jin Ge replied, “It’s three li from here to the temple.” Yu Jie asked, “How dare we go?” She then asked, “What else does Third Uncle have to say?” Jin Ge said, “It’s just that there’s a lack of silver money for expenses; nothing else.” Yu Jie said, “Go and tell Third Uncle, ‘Wait for me at the temple on the 15th.’” Jin Ge went to the temple to inform the Three Officials and then took them to Wang Jiang’s house. “If they won’t keep you there, come to my house instead.” Fortunately, Wang Jiang was home and took the young man in.

Meanwhile, the brothel owner asked again, “Third Sister, you haven’t eaten for these two days—still thinking about Wang San! You think of him, but does he think of you? How foolish I am! I’ll find someone better than Wang San so you can have something new.” Yu Jie said, “Mother, there’s one matter in my heart that I can’t resolve.” The brothel owner asked, “What is it?” Yu Jie replied, “I originally asked for Wang San’s silver money. I spoke to him at night and swore an oath in front of the City God. Now that I’ve fulfilled my vow, I’ll take another man.” The brothel owner asked, “When will you go to fulfill your vow?” Yu Jie said, “Let’s go on the 15th.” The brothel owner was very pleased and prepared incense, candles, and paper horses in advance.

On the 15th, before dawn, she woke her maid up and said, “Go and burn these paper horses while I wash my face.” Yu Jie also got up, prepared herself, packed her private silver money along with hairpins and jewelry, and told her maid to take the paper horses straight to the City God Temple. When they entered the temple, it was still dark, and the Three Officials weren’t there. Little did they know, the Three Officials were waiting for them in the east corridor.

They had already seen Yu Jie and coughed once. Yu Jie understood immediately and told her maid to burn the paper horses. “You go first; I’ll go check out the Ten Emperors of Hell over there.” Yu Jie turned around and headed to the east corridor to look for the Three Officials. When the Three Officials saw Yu Jie, their faces turned red with shame. Yu Jie called out, “Brother Wang Shunqing, why do you look like this?” They hugged each other and cried. Yu Jie gave the two hundred taels of silver she had with her to the Three Officials, telling them to buy clothes, a donkey, and then return to the courtyard. “Just say you’ve just arrived from Nanjing; don’t disappoint me.” The two parted with tears in their eyes.

When Yu Jie returned home, the brothel owner was overjoyed upon seeing her and asked, “Has my child fulfilled her vow?” Yu Jie replied, “I fulfilled my old vow and made a new one.” The brothel owner asked, “My child, what new vow did you make?” Yu Jie said, “I want to take Wang San back again and destroy our entire family—burn them all to ashes with fire!” The brothel owner said, “That’s too extreme of a vow, my child.” From then on, they lived happily ever after.

Meanwhile, San Guan returned to Wang Jiang’s house and handed over the two hundred taels of silver to him. Wang Jiang was overjoyed. He immediately went to the market and bought a set of silk clothes with sleeves, white-soled shoes, woolen socks, a corrugated hat, blue silk ribbons, a real river fan, as well as a leather suitcase and a donkey, getting everything ready. He wrapped the bricks and tiles in cloth to disguise them as silver and placed them in the leather suitcase. After everything was prepared, he hired two servants to accompany him as they set off. Wang Jiang said, “Third uncle, wait a moment. I’ll prepare a cup of wine to see you off.” Gong Yu replied, “There’s no need for that. You’ve been so kind to me. I must repay you someday.” Then San Guan mounted his horse and left.

The young man left Wang Jiang and his wife and headed straight to the entrance of Chunyuan. There, he saw several musicians talking at the door.

Suddenly, he saw San Guan looking completely different. He was shocked. He quickly went to inform the old brothel keeper, Zhe Bo. After hearing this, she remained silent for a while. “What should we do now? Back then, Sister San said he was a nobleman with tons of gold and silver, but I didn’t believe her and drove him away. Now he actually has gold and silver with him—how troublesome!” After thinking carefully, she came out with a serious expression and met San Guan, asking, “Where have you come from, brother-in-law?” She grabbed the horse’s reins. The young man dismounted, bowed slightly, and was about to leave, saying, “My companions are waiting for me on the boat.” Zhe Bo smiled and said, “You’re really heartless. Even if the temple is ruined and the monks are ugly, one should show some kindness. Even if you want to go, at least take a look at Yutang Chun.” The young man replied, “What were those few taels of silver from before? How could I care about that! In my leather suitcase, I have fifty thousand taels of silver, along with several ships’ worth of goods. I also have dozens of companions, all under Wang Ding’s supervision.” Zhe Bo refused to let go. Fearing he might escape, the young man played along and sat down inside the courtyard. Zhe Bo ordered the kitchen to prepare a feast to welcome him. After drinking tea, San Guan tried to leave. On purpose, he gave her two pieces of silver, each worth five taels, made of fine thread.

San Guan took them and hid them in his sleeve. Zhe Bo then said, “I haven’t even had a drink since arriving at the lady’s place. I was looking for you. I thought you had gone east, but I couldn’t find you. It took me over a month to get back home.” The young man took the opportunity to say, “Thank you for your kindness. I also couldn’t find you at that time. Wang Ding came to pick me up, so I went home. I was also worried about Sister Yu, which is why I rushed here.” The old brothel keeper quickly sent a maid to inform Yutang Chun.

The girl climbed upstairs laughing all the way. Yu Jie already knew her husband had arrived, so she deliberately said, “What have I raised to be such a nuisance?” The girl replied, “Your brother-in-law is here again.” Yu Jie pretended to jump in surprise and said, “Don’t try to fool me—I won’t go downstairs.” The madam hurried over herself. Yu Jie deliberately turned her face away and pretended to sleep. The madam said, “My dear child! Your brother-in-law has come—don’t you know?”

Yu Jie remained silent. The madam asked four or five times, but she refused to respond. At that moment, about to scold her, the madam pulled over a chair and sat down, letting out a long sigh. Seeing her like this, Yu Jie deliberately turned around, knelt on the stairs, and said, “Mom! Please spare me from being beaten today.” The madam quickly pulled her up and said, “My child! Don’t you still know your brother-in-law has come again? He brings fifty thousand taels of silver, goods on the ship, and dozens of workers—double what before. You should go see him and flatter him nicely.” Yu Jie said, “I’ve made a new vow; I won’t go meet him.” The madam said, “My child! Vows are just for joking.” She took Yu Jie down the stairs, then called out halfway, “Brother-in-law, Sister Three has arrived.” When San Guan saw Yu Jie, he gave her a cold bow, showing no warmth at all. The madam then ordered the girl to set the table, pour wine into a cup, and with deep respect, handed it to her brother-in-law, saying, “Consider this as if it were not me. Out of consideration for Sister Three, don’t go to another place and become the subject of laughter.” San Guan sneered slightly and said, “Mom, it’s still my fault.” The madam earnestly persuaded him to drink. After a few cups, he said, “Sorry for the trouble,” and left. Cui Hong grabbed him and said, “Yu Jie, show some kindness to my brother-in-law.” The madam said, “Brother-in-law, you’re being too harsh.” The girl blocked the door, preventing her brother-in-law from leaving. She ordered the girl to carry the luggage to Baihua Tower, then set up another banquet downstairs, with music playing, and continued to flatter him. After half of the night passed, the madam said, “I’ll leave first; let the couple talk alone.” This suited San Guan and Yu Jie perfectly, so they went upstairs hand in hand—like people who had long suffered from drought finally encountering rain, or like old friends reuniting.

The two spent the whole night talking, truly feeling “happy yet wishing the night were shorter, lonely yet hating it from stretching on.” Before long, when the fourth watch began, the man got up and said, “Sister, I must leave now.” Yu Jie said, “Brother, I really wanted to keep you for a few more days, but no matter how long I keep you, we must part eventually. This time, hurry home and avoid getting involved with other women. Once you see your parents, focus on studying. If you succeed, you’ll have something to be proud of.” Yu Jie was reluctant to part with Prince Wang, while the prince was attached to Yu Tangchun. Yu Jie said, “Brother, once you get home, I’m afraid you’ll marry someone else and forget about me.” San Guan said, “I’m afraid you’ll find someone else in Beijing, and then it will be useless for me to come back.” Yu Jie said, “You made a vow in front of the sages.” The two knelt down. The man said, “If I marry someone else in Nanjing, I’ll die of illness in the heat of summer.” Yu Jie said, “If Su San marries someone else, she’ll never be free again.” They broke the mirror in half, each keeping one half as a reminder for the future. Yu Jie said, “You…”

I lost thirty thousand taels of silver and returned empty-handed. Take all the gold, silver, jewelry, and utensils with you.” The third official said, “When that wretched whore finds out, how will you deal with her?” Yu Jie replied, “Don’t worry about me; I have my own plans.” After packing everything, she quietly opened the door of the building and sent the young man out.

At dawn, the brothel owner got up and asked her maid to heat water for washing her face and prepare some tea. “When your brother-in-law wakes up, take it upstairs and ask what he wants to eat so I can prepare it. If he’s still asleep, don’t wake him up.” The maid went upstairs and found that all the utensils were gone, and even the dressing box was empty, left aside. When she lifted the curtain, half of the bed was empty. She ran downstairs and cried, “Mom!” The brothel owner said, “What’s the rush? You’ll wake your brother-in-law!” The maid replied, “Where’s my brother-in-law now? He’s gone. My sister is back inside, sleeping.” Hearing this, the brothel owner was shocked and saw that the servant had also disappeared. She hurried upstairs and was relieved to find the suitcase still there. When she opened it, it was full of bricks and tiles. The brothel owner cursed, “You fool! Where’s Wang San? I’ll kill you! Why did he steal all the gold and silver items?” Yu Jie said, “I made a new vow; it wasn’t me who brought him here this time.” The brothel owner said, “You two talked all night last evening; you must know where he went.” That wretch went to get a whip, while Yu Jie took a handkerchief to tie her hair. She said, “Let me find Wang San and give it back to you.” Then she rushed downstairs and headed outside. The brothel owner, worried she might leave, chased after her.

Yu Jie reached the main street and shouted loudly, “Murder for greed!” Soon, everyone gathered there. The brothel owner said, “That fool stole all my gold and silver jewelry, and he’s still being defiant.” That wretch said, “Let him be; we’ll settle accounts at home.”

Yu Jie said, “Stop talking nonsense. Where are we going? Is that my home? I’ll go to the judicial office and make things clear. Your family may be nobles or high-ranking officials, but what do they have compared to his gold and silver items? Everything must be settled fairly. A brothel owner, the lowest and most humble person, doesn’t have anything valuable to wear to parties. Prince Wang Shangshu spent thirty thousand taels in my house. Who doesn’t know that as soon as he left, you attacked him? You saw he had money yesterday, so you lured him back to your house and stole his belongings. Where did you put him? Everyone, please act as witnesses.” The brothel owner had no answer. That wretch said, “You had Yu San steal my things, yet now you’re blaming me.” Yu Jie, desperate, cursed, “You wretched whore! You killed someone for greed, and now you still dare to talk? Look, the suitcase is open in your house, and the silver has been taken. If it wasn’t you who murdered Wang San, then who was it?” The brothel owner said, “What silver does he have? It’s all just bricks and tiles to deceive people.” Yu Jie said, “You yourself said he had fifty thousand taels of silver. How can you say there’s none now?”

The servants started arguing. Everyone knew it was true that the three officials had lost thirty thousand silver coins, but whether they intended to kill her was uncertain; so they tried to persuade her with kind words. Sister Yu said, “Gentlemen, since you advise me not to go to the authorities, at least let me scold them a bit to vent my anger.” The people said, “Go ahead and scold them as you like.” Sister Yu cursed, “You wretched scoundrel! You’re like a dog that can never be fed enough, or a pit that can never be filled. You refuse to think of earning a living properly and instead scheme to deceive others. All your flattery is nothing but a trap, and every word you speak is meant to lure people into trouble. You only care about the prosperity of your own family, never worrying about whether others are poor or not. You bought me for eight hundred good coins, yet how much silver have you made from me? My father’s name is Zhou Yanheng, a well-known person in Datong City. What crime is it to buy a virtuous woman and turn her into a prostitute? Those who traffic in people are sent to military service. Deceiving young men from good families is one thing, but killing them for money is a serious crime! Your family is utterly heartless. Let me scold you a little more.”

The people said, “Sister Yu, you’ve scolded them enough.” The brothel owner said, “We let you scold them for so long; now it’s time for you to back off.” Sister Yu said, “If you want me to leave, you must give me a written document as proof.” The people asked, “How should we write that document?” Sister Yu said, “It should state things like ‘It is wrong to buy a virtuous woman and turn her into a prostitute, as well as killing her for money.’” That scoundrel refused to write it. Sister Yu started complaining again. The people said, “Buying a virtuous woman and turning her into a prostitute is a common practice. But since the claim about killing her isn’t true, it’s hard to prove. We’ll just write a document of redemption for you.” Still, that scoundrel wouldn’t agree. The people said, “Don’t talk about other things. Even Prince Wang spent thirty thousand silver coins to buy three hundred prostitutes. Sister Yu no longer favors you. Give up on him!” Everyone went to an inn, got a piece of cotton paper, with one person reading and another writing, while that scoundrel and the brothel owner had to sign their names. Sister Yu said, “If it’s not written fairly, I’ll tear it up.” The people promised to make it fair. They wrote: “This document confirms that Su Huai, a registered entertainer, and his wife, worth one scale of gold, received money—specifically one hundred coins—from Zhou Yanheng of Datong Prefecture, in exchange for his daughter, Yu Tangchun, who lived at home, hoping to support herself by working as a prostitute. However, she refused to do so.”

When it came to the line “refused to be a prostitute,” Sister Yu said, “That’s exactly right. It must also state that she received thirty thousand taels of silver as a gift from Prince Wang.” That scoundrel said, “Hey! Be reasonable too. All the expenses over the past year must be counted as well, right?” The people said, “Just write twenty thousand.” They continued writing: “Prince Wang Shunqing from Nanjing fell in love with her. Su Huai received twenty thousand taels of silver, which serves as the money for her redemption. From now on, Yu Tangchun may marry whom she wishes, and this household has nothing more to do with her. This serves as proof.”

At the end, they wrote, “On the date of Zhengde era, this document is made by Su Huai, a registered entertainer, and his wife, worth one scale of gold.” There were over ten people present. First, they signed their names. Su Huai also signed, and he marked one scale of gold with a cross. After receiving it, Sister Yu said, “Gentlemen!”

“I still have one more thing to clarify first.” Everyone asked, “What is it?” Sister Yu said, “That Baihua Tower was originally built by Prince Wang. It was given to my maid Zhu, who was actually purchased by the prince, so that both of them could serve me. From now on, food, rice, firewood, vegetables, and everything else must be provided in full—no shortfalls allowed—until I get married.” Everyone said, “We’ll do as you say.” Sister Yu thanked them and left first. Wang Ba invited everyone to eat and drink before dispersing them. Truly, as the saying goes: “Zhou Yu’s strategies are unmatched under heaven; he loses his wife and also his troops.”

Meanwhile, the prince traveled day and night, and after a few days, he arrived at his own house in Jinling and dismounted from his horse. When Wang Ding saw him, he was shocked. He stepped forward, held back the horse, and led him inside. The three officials took their seats, and Wang Ding bowed to them all. The officials asked, “How is our master?” Wang Ding replied, “He’s fine.” “How about your uncle, your second uncle, your brother-in-law, and your sister?” Wang Ding said, “They’re all fine.” They then asked, “Have you heard what our master plans to do regarding our family?” Wang Ding remained silent, sighing deeply while staring at the sky. The officials understood his meaning: Since he wouldn’t speak, it seemed the master intended to kill him. Wang Ding said, “Third uncle! Our master swears not to spare you. Don’t see him this time. Go secretly to see our mother, sister, brother-in-law, and ask for some money to support yourself before you go and settle down.”

The prince asked further, “Who has our master been close to these past two years? Please ask them to intercede for me.” Wang Ding said, “No one dares to speak up. Only the young lady and her father have mentioned it briefly, but they don’t dare to say anything outright.” The officials said, “Wang Ding, go invite Father Liu here. I’ll talk to him about this matter.”

Wang Ding immediately went to invite Master Liu and Scholar He. After exchanging greetings, the two said, “Third uncle, stay here. Let us talk to our master first, then we’ll send someone to call you. If things don’t go well, we’ll send word for you to flee quickly.” With that, they went to Lord Gong’s mansion to see the Minister of Works. After sitting down and drinking tea, the prince asked Scholar He, “How are the estates?” Scholar He replied, “They’re fine.” The prince then asked Master Liu, “How’s your studies?” Master Liu answered, “I’m afraid not; I’ve been busy with other matters and haven’t had time to study.” The prince smiled and said, “‘Those who read ten thousand books can write with divine skill. What should a scholar rely on? Without scholars in the family, where do officials come from?’ From now on, you must study hard and not waste your time.” Master Liu thanked him humbly. Scholar He asked, “When was this wall built in front of the guest room? I’ve never seen it before.” The prince laughed and said, “As I grow older and have little land, I fear future disputes among my sons, so I’ve divided it into two parts in advance.” The two laughed and said, “With three parts of the family property, why only make two? When will San Guan return? Where should he live?” Hearing this, the minister became very angry. “I’ve only had two sons in my life—where does a third come from?” The two said in unison, “Sir, you…”

How can Wang Jinglong avoid pain? Back then, it was still I who asked him to collect debts in Beijing, yet not a single person went to help him. Not to mention that San Guan is only sixteen or seventeen years old; Beijing is a place full of debauchery. Even someone accustomed to the martial world would get confused there.” The two knelt down and shed tears. The prince said, “That wretched beast doesn’t know where death lies. Stop talking about it.” Just then, the two ladies arrived as well. Everyone knew San Guan had returned home and focused their attention solely on the prince. The prince said, “Since you all came today without being invited, there must be some matter.” He immediately ordered his servants to prepare wine. He Jing’an bowed and said, “Your daughter had a dream last night. In the dream, Wang Jinglong was wearing blue threads and asked his sister to save his life. She had this dream at midnight, pounded on the bed and pillow crying until dawn, blaming me for not going to fetch San Guan. Today, she came specifically to inquire about news from Uncle San.” Liu Xinzai also said, “Ever since Uncle San is in Beijing, my husband and I have been worried day and night. Today, my husband and I have gathered some money to set out tomorrow and bring him back.” The prince said through tears, “My dear son-in-law, there are still two sons at home. What shall we do without him?” He and Liu left. The prince pulled them back and asked, “Why are you leaving?” They replied, “Let go, sir. Even your own sons are like this, let alone your son-inlaws?” The children cried loudly, the two elder brothers knelt down together, the son-inlaw also knelt on the ground, and the grandmother wept behind them. This moved the prince’s heart, and he too began to cry.

Wang Ding rushed out and said, “Uncle San, the master is crying for you now. You’d better go see him before he gets even angrier.” Wang Ding pushed the young man forward and made him kneel in the main hall, saying, “Father! Your unfilial son, Wang Jinglong, has returned today.” The prince wiped his tears with both hands and said, “That shameless beast doesn’t know where death lies. There are many vagrants and bachelors on the streets of Beijing. By chance, he might look similar to that beast and pretend to be him to come to our house and deceive us out of our wealth. Have the servants take him to the judicial authorities to be punished!” The young man rushed outside. The two sisters rushed to the second gate and stopped him, saying, “You wretched one, where are you going?” San Guan said, “Sisters, please let me go so I can save my life.” The sisters refused to let go and pushed him forward. He knelt down, and the two sisters pointed at him, saying, “Wretched one! Your mother is heartbroken for you, and the whole family is crying their eyes out because of you. Don’t you care at all?” Everyone cried out in grief. The prince shouted for everyone to stop crying and said, “I agree with your uncle-in-laws to take this beast in, but what should I do with him?” Everyone said, “Cool down before deciding.” The prince shook his head.

The grandmother said, “Let me beat him.” The prince asked, “How much may I beat him?” Everyone said, “Beat him however much you want, sir.” The prince said, “It must be done according to my plan. Don’t stop me. I want to beat him a hundred times.” The eldest and second daughters knelt down and said, “Father, we dare not oppose your order. Let our sons take turns doing it instead!” Each of the two elder brothers would take turns...

Ten, and each of the elder sisters should also contribute twenty.” The prince said, “Beat him twenty times.” The elder sisters said, “Tell his brother-in-law to contribute twenty as well. Look at how thin and weak he is; why hit him now? Wait until he’s fatter and stronger, then it won’t be too late to beat him.” The prince laughed and said, “My son, you’re right too. Thinking about this wretch, who has lost all sense of justice and conscience, what’s the point of beating him? I ask you: Without any means of making a living, aren’t you afraid of running out of money? I’m no longer an official, so there’s nowhere to earn money. What business can I do to make a living? If I were to do business, I don’t have any capital to give you. How much silver do your two brother-in-laws still have?” He and Liu then asked their third uncle, “How much silver do we still have?”

Gongding carried over the leather suitcase and opened it—it was full of gold, silver jewelry, and various utensils. The prince became furious and cursed, “You dog! Where did you steal these things from? Quickly write a confession so as not to bring shame to our family!” San Guan cried out, “Father, calm down and listen to your unworthy son.” He then recounted in detail how he first met Yu Tangchun, how he was deceived by the brothel owner, how he owed Wang the silversmith for his kindness, and how Jin Ge helped him. He also mentioned that Yu Tangchun had secretly given him those items. The prince, upon hearing this, cursed, “Shameless dog! You’ve already spent thirty thousand silver pieces, yet you still want things from a prostitute. Aren’t you ashamed? I should kill you!” San Guan said, “I didn’t force her to give them to me; she gave them to me willingly.” The prince said, “Well then. Out of respect for your brother-in-laws, I’ll give you a farm where you can cultivate land.” The young man said nothing. The prince angrily demanded, “Wang Jinglong, why don’t you speak?” The young man replied, “It wasn’t me who did this.” The prince said, “If it wasn’t you, then go back to the brothel!” San Guan said, “I want to study.” The prince laughed and said, “You’re already so dissolute and restless—what’s there to study?” The young man said, “I truly intend to study with determination.” The prince said, “If you know studying is good, then why act like this?” He Jing’an stood up and said, “Our third uncle has gone through many hardships; now that he’s decided to reform, I believe he will study diligently.” The prince agreed, saying, “As you all say, send him to the study room and assign two servants to serve him.” He immediately ordered the servants to take San Guan to the study. The two brother-in-laws came again and said, “After being apart for so long, we hope the lord will keep him here so he can drink with us.” The prince said, “Worthy sons-in-law, if you do this, you’re not teaching your son properly. Don’t indulge him.” The two men agreed, saying, “Your words are wise.” So the father and sons drank heartily until they were drunk and then returned home. This reunion between father and son was like: “The moon is hidden by clouds, dimming its glow; flowers are covered in frost once more.”

As for the young man, he entered the study room and sat alone. Seeing shelves full of books and scrolls, along with piles of writing brushes and inkstones, he sighed and said, “Books! It’s been so long since I last read them; I feel awkward. If I don’t read, how can I become famous overnight? I can’t afford to waste…”

“I’ve failed to follow Fifth Sister’s advice. I want to study, but my mind wanders; my thoughts are hard to control.” The young man thought for a while, then took up his book and began to read. His mind was fixed on Yu Tangchun. Suddenly, he smelled a strange scent and heard some noise. He asked his page, “What scent do you smell in this book? What sound do you hear?”

The page replied, “Uncle, there’s nothing.” The young man said, “Nothing? Ah, so the scent is actually perfume, and the sound is the sound of a zither.” He then remembered what Fifth Sister had told him: to focus on studying. But now he wasn’t studying at all; his mind kept wandering, leaving him restless—unable to eat, sleep, or pay attention to anything. He thought to himself, “What should I do?” When he stepped outside, he saw a couplet hanging on the main gate: “Ten years of hardship by the window, then sudden fame throughout the land.” This was a couplet written by his grandfather, who passed the imperial examinations and became a vice minister. Later, his father studied here and rose to the position of minister. Now, he too wanted to achieve success like his predecessors. There was another couplet on the second gate: “Without enduring the greatest hardships, one cannot become the best among men.” The young man hurried back to his study, where he found books titled “Romantic Secrets” and “Spring in the bridal chamber.” He thought, “These books are disturbing my mind.” So he burned them. He also put away all the broken mirrors and hairpins. Then he resolved to study diligently.

One day, there was no fire in the study, so the page went outside to fetch some. The prince was sitting there and called for the page. The page knelt down before him. The prince asked, “Has your uncle been studying hard lately?” The page replied, “Your Excellency, at first, my uncle didn’t study at all; he just wandered around with wild thoughts, becoming very thin. But over the past six months, he has studied every day, staying up until midnight and getting up at dawn. He only stops to wash up after meals. Even while eating, his eyes remain fixed on his books.” The prince said, “You liar! I’ll go check for myself.” The page called out, “Uncle, Your Excellency has arrived.” The young man calmly greeted his father. The prince was pleased, as his calm demeanor showed how much he had learned. The prince sat down, and the young man bowed to him. The prince asked, “Have you finished reading the books I assigned? How many of the problems have you solved?” The young man replied, “Father, as you ordered, I’ve finished all the books and solved all the problems. I still have time to read history and other texts.” The prince said, “Show me your writings.” The young man handed over his essays. Each one was excellent, and the prince was very pleased. He said, “Jinglong, go take part in the imperial examinations.” The young man replied, “I’ve only studied for a few days. How can I hope to pass?” The prince said, “It’s better to try once; if you fail, you can try again.” He then wrote to the education authorities, allowing the young man to take the exams. On August 9th, after completing the first round of exams, the young man showed his essays to his father. The prince was delighted, saying, “What’s difficult about these seven essays?” After completing the second and third rounds as well, the prince reviewed his final essays and said, “He won’t just pass—he’ll definitely be the top scorer.”

Let’s divide this story into two parts. It is said that once Yu Jie entered the Hundred Flowers Tower, she never came down the stairs again. One day, feeling bored and weary, she called her maid and said, “Bring the chess pieces here; I’ll play a game with you.” The maid replied, “I don’t know how to play chess.” Yu Jie asked, “Can you play backgammon?” The maid answered, “Nor that either.” Yu Jie then threw both the chessboard and the backgammon set onto the floor. Seeing tears in Yu Jie’s eyes, the maid quickly brought some food over and said, “Sister, you haven’t eaten since last night. Have some snacks.” Yu Jie took the food and split it in half, holding one piece in her right hand to eat and giving the other to the young man. The maid wanted to take it but dared not. Suddenly, Yu Jie opened her eyes and realized it wasn’t the young man; she dropped the piece of food on the floor. The maid promptly brought a bowl of soup and said, “The food is dry; have some soup instead.” As soon as Yu Jie took a sip, tears streamed from her eyes. She put the bowl down and asked, “What’s that noise outside?” The maid replied, “Today is the Mid-Autumn Festival. Everyone is enjoying the moonlight, and everywhere there are gatherings. My sisters Cuixiang and Cuihong also have guests.” Hearing this, though Yu Jie said nothing, she thought to herself, “My brother has been gone for a year now.” She told the maid to bring a mirror so she could look at herself. She was shocked to see how thin she had become. She threw the mirror on the bed, sighed deeply, walked to the door of the tower, and asked the maid, “Bring a chair over; I want to sit here for a while.” After sitting for a long time, she saw the bright moon rising high and the drums beating. Yu Jie told the maid, “Go get some incense and candles. Today is the 15th day of the eighth month—the day when your brother-in-law enters the imperial examination. I’ll burn incense to pray for him.” Yu Jie went downstairs, knelt in the courtyard, and said, “Heavenly gods, today is the 15th day of the eighth month. My brother Wang Jinglong has entered the imperial examinations. May he succeed soon and become famous throughout the land.” After praying, she bowed deeply four times. There is a poem to prove this:
Facing the moon, I burn incense and pray to heaven—
When will my grievances be resolved?

Someday, Brother Wang will make it onto the imperial list,
But not in this lifetime shall we be united.

Meanwhile, there was a guest in the western tower. He was from Hongtong County, Pingyang Prefecture, Shanxi Province, bringing tens of thousands of silver coins to Beijing to sell horses. His surname was Shen and his name Hong. Having heard of Yu Tangchun’s fame, he came specifically to meet her. The brothel owner, seeing his wealth, dressed Cuixiang up to resemble Yu Jie. After spending a few days together, Shen Hong finally realized she wasn’t Yu Jie and pleaded to meet her. That night, the maid went downstairs to fetch fire so Yu Jie could burn incense. Little Cuihong couldn’t help but blurt out, “Brother-in-law Shen, you keep asking about Yu Jie. Tonight, she’s downstairs burning incense in the courtyard. I’ll help you spy on her quietly.” Shen Hong gave the maid three coins as a tip and followed her downstairs. In the bright moonlight, he watched carefully. After she finished praying, he stepped forward and cried. Yu Jie was shocked and asked, “Who is that?” He replied, “I am Shen Hong from Shanxi. I have tens of thousands of coins and am here selling horses. I’ve long admired Yu Jie’s reputation but never had the chance to meet her. Today, I’ve seen her, as if...”

The clouds cleared to reveal the blue sky. He hoped Sister Yu would not abandon him and join him in the western tower for a while. Sister Yu snapped angrily, “I’ve never known you before. It’s late at night—why do you boast about your wealth and create trouble needlessly?” Shen Hong pleaded again, “Wang Sanguan is just an ordinary man; I’m also an ordinary man. He has money, and so do I. Who’s better than me?” With that, he stepped forward to embrace Sister Yu. She slapped him in the face and hurriedly went upstairs to lock the door, scolding her maid, “How dare you let this wild dog in?” Shen Hong left in disappointment. Thinking about it, Sister Yu realized it must have been those two maids, Xiao Cui Xiang and Xiao Cui Hong, who had reported him. She cursed, “You wretched whores! You can enjoy your lonely old age—why come to bother me?” After cursing them, she burst into tears, saying, “If only my brother were still alive, which of those maids would dare to harass me?” Filled with anger and sorrow, her thoughts grew more bitter. As the saying goes: “Once the beloved is gone, they’re never seen again; when vulgar people arrive, there’s no time to welcome them.”

Meanwhile, Wang Sanguan was in Nanjing, finishing his exams. With nothing to do, he thought of Sister Yu every day. There were also official offices in Nanjing, but he didn’t go there anymore. On the day the exam results were announced, he didn’t fall asleep until after midnight. Someone came to tell him good news: Wang Jinglong had ranked first. Hearing this in his dream, he got up, dressed himself, mounted his horse, and set off for the celebration, surrounded by attendants. His parents, siblings, brothers-in-law, sisters, and aunts were all overjoyed, and celebrations continued for several days. He thanked the examiners, bid farewell to the educational officials, paid respects at his ancestors’ graves, and prepared documents. His parents understood that he wanted to go to the capital early to find a quiet place to study for a few months before taking the imperial exams. Knowing his true concern was for Yu Tangchun, they agreed and called his elder and younger brothers. “Jinglong is going to the capital for the exams. How much money did we spend on sacrifices yesterday?” The elder brother replied, “Just over three hundred taels.” The prince said, “That’s only enough to repay favors. Give him another hundred or two hundred taels as extra.” The younger brother said, “Father, it doesn’t require that much money.” The prince replied, “How do you know? I have many classmates in the capital. To maintain relationships, money is necessary. Once he has more funds, he’ll be more motivated to study.” He told Jinglong to pack his things and find a few trusted classmates to accompany him. He also sent someone to Mr. Zhang’s house to choose an auspicious date. The young man wished he could go to Beijing right away. He invited a few friends, rented a boat, bid farewell to his parents, and siblings. His two brothers-in-law invited relatives and friends to the ten-mile pavilion for a farewell banquet. The young man boarded the boat, dancing with joy, not knowing where he was going. Everyone was puzzled by his behavior, but he only had Sister Yu and Yu Tangchun in mind. In one day, he arrived in Jining Prefecture, disembarked from the boat, and continued his journey by land—no need to elaborate further.

As for Shen Hong, since meeting Sister Yu on the Mid-Autumn night, he had been thinking of her day and night, neglecting food and sleep. He cried out, “Dear sisters, it’s because of this troublemaker that I’m so distressed and upset. I hope you can…”

“Have pity on me, alone here with no relatives in sight. Please persuade Sister Yu to let us meet once—even if I die beneath the nine springs, I shall never forget your kindness that saved my life.” With that, he knelt down. Cuixiang and Cuihong said, “Brother-in-law Shen, please get up. We wouldn’t dare speak such words to him either. Don’t you remember how impatient you were with us during the Mid-Autumn Festival? Wait until our mother arrives; then ask her to intercede for him.” Shen Hong said, “Dear sisters, please ask our mother to come out.” Sister Cuixiang replied, “If you want her to help, kneel down and kowtow another 120 times.” Shen Hong hurriedly knelt down and began kowtowing. Cuixiang immediately went to tell the madam what Shen Hong had said. The madam went to the west building to see Shen Hong and asked, “Why has Brother-in-law Shen called me?” Shen Hong replied, “There’s nothing else but my desire to get Yu Tangchun for myself. If you help me achieve this, even gold and silver won’t be enough to repay you; even sacrificing my life wouldn’t suffice.” Hearing this, the madam said nothing aloud but thought to herself, “If I agree to him now, what if my third son refuses? What then? If I don’t agree, how can I get his money?” Seeing the madam hesitating, Shen Hong glanced at Cuihong. Cuihong gave him a subtle signal and went downstairs. Shen Hong followed her. Cuihong said, “As the saying goes, ‘Sisters value beauty, while madams value money.’ Bring out more silver to win him over—he won’t lack effort if given enough. He’s someone who spends heavily; if it’s not enough, he won’t care.” Shen Hong asked how much was needed. Cuixiang replied, “Don’t skimp! Give him a thousand taels—only then can this be done.” It seemed fate intended for Shen Hong to fail; like possessed, he followed Cuixiang’s advice and brought a thousand taels of silver, saying, “Mother, the gift is here.” The madam said, “I’ll accept this silver. But don’t be hasty; I’ll slowly win him over.” Shen Hong thanked her, saying, “I’m counting on it.” Truly, it was as if Zhuge Liang was summoned just to pursue Yu Tangchun’s affections.

Meanwhile, in the thirteen provinces, the results of the examinations were posted outside the Meridian Gate. Blacksmith Wang invited Brother Jin and said, “I wonder if Official Wang has passed?” The two rushed to the list posted outside the Meridian Gate in Nanjing, where it was written that the top scorer was from The Book of History. Further down, Wang Jinglou’s name appeared. Blacksmith Wang said to Brother Jin, “Great news! Your uncle has ranked fourth!” Brother Jin asked, “Are you sure? I’m afraid you might not recognize the characters.” Blacksmith Wang retorted, “How dare you mock me? I’ve studied up to Mencius—how could I not recognize these three characters?”

Brother Jin was overjoyed upon hearing this. The two bought a copy of the examination results and went to their office to tell Yu Tangchun that her uncle had passed. Sister Yu asked a maid to bring the results upstairs. After reading them, she saw that it read, “Fourth place: Wang Jinglou, a scholar from Yingtian Prefecture, specializing in The Book of Rites.” Sister Yu stepped out of the room and ordered a maid to quickly set up an altar to thank heaven and earth.

First, she thanked Master Wang, then turned around to thank Brother Jin. The soul of that wretched woman was no longer in her body. They discussed, “Wang San has passed the imperial exams and will soon arrive in the capital. If he takes Yu Tangchun away for free, won’t he lose both his wealth and his lover? My son, being alone and old, surely won’t say anything nice; instead, he’ll stir up trouble to avenge past grievances. What should we do?” The woman said, “It’s better to take action first.” Wang Ba asked, “How shall we proceed?” The madam said, “We’ve already received a thousand taels of silver from Lord Shen. Now let’s ask for another thousand and sell her to him at a lower price.” Wang Ba asked, “What if my son refuses?” The woman replied, “Tomorrow, we’ll slaughter pigs and sheep and buy some paper money. We’ll pretend to go to the Dongyue Temple, burn the paper, make vows, and whole family will turn over a new leaf, never returning to the brothel district. If my son hears that we’re turning over a new leaf, he’ll surely also go to the temple to burn incense. Have Lord Shen prepare the sedan chair and send her straight to Shanxi. By then, when my son arrives and doesn’t see his lover, his heart will cool down.” Wang Ba said, “This plan is excellent.” He immediately discussed it secretly with Shen Hong and asked for another thousand taels of silver.

The next morning, a maid reported to Yu Jie, “Our family is slaughtering pigs and sheep and heading to the temple.” Yu Jie asked, “Why?” The maid replied, “I heard Mom say, ‘Since Wang Jie’s husband has passed the exams, we’re afraid he’ll come to the capital to avenge himself. So today we’re making vows for the whole family to turn over a new leaf.’” Yu Jie asked, “Is it true or false?” The maid said, “It’s true! Yesterday, Brother Shen already left. He won’t accept any guests anymore.” Yu Jie said, “If that’s the case, tell Mom I want to go burn incense too.” The madam said, “Sanzui, if you want to go, hurry up and get ready. I’ll have the sedan chair brought for you.” Yu Jie got dressed and left with the madam. There, they saw four men carrying an empty sedan chair. The madam asked, “Was this sedan chair hired?” The men replied, “Yes.” The madam asked, “How much does it cost to take it here to the temple?” They said, “One tael of silver to carry it there and back.” The madam offered only five fen. The men said, “It’s a small amount. Please get in the sedan chair, madam.” The madam said, “It’s not me who’s going; it’s my daughter.” Yu Jie got into the sedan chair, and the two men carried her, not toward the Dongyue Temple but straight to the west gate.

After walking several miles, when they reached a turning point, Yu Jie looked back and saw Shen Hong riding a donkey behind them. She cried out, “Ah! Could it be that that wretched woman has sold me?” She cursed loudly, “You thieves and dogs! Where are you taking me?” Shen Hong said, “Where else? I’ve spent two thousand taels of silver to get you to your family in Shanxi.” Yu Jie cried and cursed inside the sedan chair nonstop. The porters carried her at top speed. After a day, it grew dark. Shen Hong found an inn, prepared delicious food and wine, hoping for a joyful wedding night. But Yu Jie kept cursing whenever touched. Seeing many people in the inn and fearing embarrassment, Shen Hong thought, “A turtle in a jar isn’t afraid of escaping. I’ll endure a few more days and take her to my home.”

“With such an offer, why not agree?” So he returned the flattery instead of offending him. Needless to say, Sister Yu cried all day long.

When the young master arrived in Beijing, he left his luggage at an inn and, accompanied by two servants, went to Wang the blacksmith’s house to inquire about Yu Tangchun’s whereabouts. Blacksmith Wang invited him to sit down: “There’s some wine here; have three cups to welcome you, then I’ll tell you everything.” Blacksmith Wang brought out the wine and poured it. San Guan couldn’t refuse and drank three cups in a row. Then he asked, “Does Sister Yu know I’ve come?” Blacksmith Wang said, “Uncle, relax and have three more cups.” San Guan replied, “Enough, I won’t drink any more.” Blacksmith Wang insisted, “It’s been so long since we last met; have a few more cups—don’t be too modest.” The young master drank a few more cups and asked, “Have you seen Sister Yu these past days?” Blacksmith Wang said again, “Uncle, don’t ask about that yet; have three more cups.” Suspicious, the young master stood up and said, “Whether it’s good or bad, tell me clearly—don’t keep me in suspense!” Blacksmith Wang just kept urging him to drink.

Meanwhile, Jin Ge passed by the door and, knowing the young master was inside, entered and kowtowed to express his joy. San Guan asked Jin Ge, “How is your third aunt these days?” Jin Ge, being young and talkative, replied, “She was sold.” San Guan quickly asked, “Sold to whom?” Blacksmith Wang gave Jin Ge a look, and Jin Ge shut up. The young master pressed further, and the two couldn’t hide it any longer and said, “Your third aunt was sold.” The young master asked, “When was she sold?” Blacksmith Wang replied, “A month ago.” Hearing this, the young master slammed his head against the ground. The two hurried to help him up. The young master asked Jin Ge, “Where was she sold to?” Jin Ge said, “She was sold to Shen Hong, a customer from Shanxi.” San Guan asked, “How could your third aunt agree to that?” Jin Ge explained, “The brothel owner pretended to reform herself, bought pigs and sheep, and took third aunt to the Temple of Mount Tai under the pretense of praying. She secretly arranged with Shen Hong to have her taken away in a sedan chair; now her whereabouts are unknown.” The young master said, “That wretch stole my Yu Tangchun—I’ll settle accounts with him!” He ordered Jin Ge to follow, along with his servants, and they fled straight to his own residence. As soon as they entered the courtyard, the wretch, quick-witted as ever, ran away. The young master asked the maids, “Where is my sister Yu?” No one dared to answer. Angered, he searched the room and found the brothel owner, grabbed her, and ordered his servants to beat her. Jin Ge advised the young master to go upstairs to Baihua Tower. There, seeing the colorful curtains and fine screens, he became even angrier, smashing all the chests and boxes in fury. In a fit of rage, he asked, “Girl, to which family did your sister marry? Tell me the truth, and I’ll spare you from being beaten.” The maid replied, “She went to pray; we didn’t know and she was secretly sold away.” Tears filled the young master’s eyes as he said, “Wretched thing! I don’t know if she’s the main wife or a concubine.” The maid said, “They already have a wife in their family.” Hearing this, he flew into a rage and cursed, “That filthy bitch—heartless and unrighteous!” The maid added, “She married someone else today—why would you still care for her?” Tears streamed down the young master’s face.

Just as they were talking, a friend suddenly came to visit. Brother Jin advised, “Third uncle, don’t be upset. Third aunt is not here for now. Even if you cry for her, she won’t know. There are many gentlemen in the shop who have heard that you’re in the courtyard and want to come see you.” Hearing this, fearing ridicule from his friends, the young man got up and returned to the shop. Feeling frustrated, he had no desire to participate in the festivities and wanted to pack up and go home. When his friends learned of this, they all tried to persuade him: “Brother Shunqing, fame and success are important matters. Marriage is also an important duty—how can you have one without pursuing fame and success?” The young man replied, “You don’t understand. I’ve studied hard with great determination, all inspired by Yu Tangchun’s words. My beloved has endured so much hardship for me—how could I abandon her so easily?” The others said, “Brother Shunqing, if you pass the exams, it will be easy to see her there. If you go home, you’ll become sick from worry, your parents will be anxious, and your friends will laugh at you—what’s the point of that?” They believed their words were sound; if lucky enough to reach Shanxi, that would suffice for life, and they used these words to awaken the young man.

The date for the imperial examinations arrived, and after taking three rounds of tests, he ranked eighth in the second tier of the list, earning a position as an observer in the Ministry of Justice. Three months later, he was appointed as a judge in Zhengding Prefecture, and couriers were sent to invite his parents, siblings, and in-laws. His parents refused to come, sending a letter saying, “Tell him to be diligent, honest, and upright in his official duties. Since you’re still unmarried despite being of age, you’ve already been engaged to the daughter of Judge Liu; she will be sent to your post soon for the wedding.” The young man’s heart was entirely focused on Yu Tangchun, and he wasn’t happy about the engagement at all. As the saying goes: “Once the willows along the road are tied together, the household chickens become wild mandarin ducks.”

Meanwhile, Shen Hong’s wife, Lady Pi, was quite attractive. Though over thirty, she still retained her charm. She usually disliked her husband for being dull and lacking in romantic skills, plus he spent most of his time away from home. Lady Pi had a strong desire for pleasure and couldn’t resist it. Next door lived a scholar named Zhao Ang, who had grown up in a life of debauchery and had recently lost his spouse. Although his family was wealthy, their fortunes were declining. One day, while Lady Pi was viewing flowers in the backyard, she accidentally met Zhao Ang. Both were attracted to each other. Zhao Ang found out that Wang Po, who lived at the end of the alley and knew people in the Shen family well, was clever at acting as a matchmaker. So he bribed Wang Po with twenty taels of silver to arrange an affair for him. Lady Pi already had a bad opinion of Wang Po from before. So, after some persuasion, they arranged a secret meeting behind a wall, and they engaged in an ambiguous affair. Zhao Ang wanted both Lady Pi’s beauty and her money. In bed, he flattered her relentlessly. Lady Pi loved Zhao Ang and obeyed him in everything he asked, wishing she could even give him all her possessions. In less than a year, he deceived her out of everything she had. At first, she made excuses, claiming temporary borrowing, but never repaid a single penny. Lady Pi was worried that her husband would return and she wouldn’t know what to say. One night, she discussed escaping with Zhao Ang.

Zhao Ang said, “I’m not barefooted—how can I walk? Even if I did walk, I’d still end up in trouble with the law. The only way is to secretly kill Shen Hong so we can be husband and wife forever. Wouldn’t that be perfect?” Pi Shi nodded silently.

Zhao Ang intended to find out more about Shen Hong. When he learned that Shen Hong had brought back the courtesan Yu Tangchun, he immediately told Pi Shi, deliberately provoking her. Pi Shi was filled with resentment and asked, “What should we do now?” Zhao Ang replied, “When he enters the house, you should criticize him and start a fight with him, telling him to go live elsewhere with that whore. Then it’s up to you to arrange things. I’ve asked Wang Po to get some arsenic here. We can put it in their food and give it to them both to eat. It doesn’t matter whether they die together or separately.” Pi Shi said, “He likes spicy noodles.” Zhao Ang said, “It’s perfect to put poison in spicy noodles.” Their plan was set; they just waited for Shen Hong to arrive.

Before long, Shen Hong arrived at his home. He told his servant and Yu Jie to wait outside while he went in first to meet Pi Shi. With a fake smile on his face, he said, “Sister, don’t be angry. I’ve done something now.” Pi Shi asked, “Have you taken another wife?” Shen Hong replied, “Yes.” Pi Shi flew into a rage and said, “I’ve been staying at home all year long, being a faithful wife, while you’re indulging in debauchery and bringing this promiscuous woman back. There’s no sense of marriage at all. If you want to keep this whore, then stay in the west hall by yourself—don’t come to bother me. I don’t deserve to endure her presence either.” After saying this, she burst into tears, pounding on the stool and cursing repeatedly. Shen Hong couldn’t persuade her. He thought, “For now, I’ll follow her wishes and stay in the west hall for a few days to enjoy myself. Once she calms down, I’ll bring Yu Tangchun over and have her kowtow to her.” Shen Hong thought his wife was just jealous, not realizing she already had an affair and that his bed was empty. He was afraid his husband would enter the room, so he took this opportunity to send her away to live elsewhere. As the saying goes: When you go east, I go west—each has their own intentions. No need to elaborate.

Yu Tangchun had sworn an oath to Prince Wang. How could she betray him now? She kept thinking, “If I go to this disgusting household, I’ll cry to the mistress and ask her to intervene so I can preserve my chastity. Then I can slowly send a letter to San Guan, asking him to send two thousand taels of silver to rescue me.” But that wouldn’t work. When she arrived at Shen Hong’s house and learned that the mistress wouldn’t let her see him and sent him to live in the west hall instead, her plans failed. She felt both frightened and distressed. Shen Hong prepared a bed in a side room for Su San. He himself went to accompany Pi Shi and have dinner with her. Pi Shi kept urging him to leave several times. Shen Hong said, “If I go to the west hall, I’m afraid the mistress will get angry.” Pi Shi replied, “I get angry when you’re here; once you’re out of my sight, I’m not angry.” Shen Hong gave a brief nod in apology and left the room, heading straight for the west hall. It turned out that Yu Jie...

Taking advantage of Shen Hong’s absence, she found his bedding left in the hall, closed the door to her room, and went to sleep. No matter how Shen Hong knocked on the door, it wouldn’t be opened. Fortunately, Lady Pi called Xiao Duanming to the west hall to see if her husband was asleep. Shen Hong had a relationship with Xiao Duanming; they lay together on the bed and had intercourse hastily, treating it as a fleeting moment of passion. Afterward, Xiao Duanming left. Shen Hong was tired and fell asleep until dawn.

That night, Lady Pi waited for Zhao Ang but he didn’t come. After Xiao Duanming returned, her husband fell asleep again. She tossed and turned all night without closing her eyes. Early in the morning, she prepared a bowl of noodles, cooked them, divided them into two portions, and secretly mixed arsenic into one portion while pouring spicy sauce over the other. She sent Xiao Duanming to the west hall with it, saying, “Give this to your father.” When Xiao Duanming delivered it to the west hall, he called out, “Father, my wife owes you this; here’s some spicy noodles for you to eat.” Seeing the two bowls, Shen Hong said, “My son, take one bowl and give it to your second wife.” Xiao Duanming then went to knock on the door. Yu Jie asked from inside the bed, “What is it?” Xiao Duanming replied, “Please get up and eat the noodles.” Yu Jie said, “I don’t want to eat.” Shen Hong said, “Perhaps your second wife still wants to sleep; don’t disturb her.” Shen Hong ate both bowls, and after a while, Xiao Duanming took the bowls away.

Soon, Shen Hong began to feel stomach pain and cried out, “It’s bad! I’m dying!” Yu Jie still thought it was an act and, hearing his voice growing weaker, opened the door to check. She saw Shen Hong dead, bleeding from all nine orifices. Not knowing what had happened, she panicked and shouted, “Help!” Footsteps were heard, and Lady Pi arrived quickly. Without waiting for Yu Jie to speak, she changed her tone and deliberately asked, “How did such a healthy man die? Surely you, little whore, killed him so you can marry someone else!” Yu Jie said, “That girl brought the noodles and asked me to eat them. I refused and didn’t open the door. Who knew he would eat them and die from stomach pain? There must be something wrong with the noodles.” Lady Pi said, “Nonsense! If there was something wrong with the noodles, it must have been you who did it. Otherwise, how would you have known in advance that the noodles were poisonous and refused to eat them? You say you didn’t open the door, but then why were you outside? If it wasn’t you who plotted his death, then who?” With that, she pretended to cry. The servants and maids in the house became chaotic. Lady Pi then took out a three-foot-long white cloth, dragged Yu Jie away, and rushed to the county magistrate’s office to make a complaint.

Just as the county magistrate entered the court, they summoned her in to inquire about the matter. Lady Pi said, “I am Lady Pi. My husband’s name is Shen Hong. He is a merchant in Beijing who spent a large sum of money to take this prostitute, named Yu Tangchun, as his concubine. This prostitute despised her husband’s ugliness, so she secretly put poison in the spicy noodles. After he ate them, he died immediately. I ask the magistrate to have her punished to death.” Upon hearing this, the county magistrate asked, “Yu Tangchun, what do you have to say?” Yu Jie replied, “Sir, I am originally from Datong Prefecture in North Zhili. Due to years of famine, my father sold me here…”

The Su family of the yamen. Three years after selling her, Shen Hong saw her and took her home as his wife. Pi Shi was jealous and secretly hid poison in the food, killing her husband. Then she became defiant and blamed the young woman. After hearing what Yu Jie had to say, the county magistrate said, “Pi Shi, since you saw that man abandon his old wife for a new one, you harbored resentment and poisoned your own husband—this seems plausible.” Pi Shi replied, “Sir, my husband and I have been married since childhood; how could I do such a heartless thing! That Su woman is actually a wicked woman with someone else in mind. It’s clearly she who poisoned him so she could remarry. I hope the heavens will see this clearly.” The county magistrate then called Su Shi over and said, “You come here. You were originally a prostitute; you liked handsome men. Since your husband wasn’t attractive enough for you, you surely poisoned him.” He ordered the jailers, “Lock Su Shi up with me.” Yu Jie said, “Sir! Although I lived in the brothel, I never caused any trouble to Shen Hong. How could I be so cruel? If I really had malicious intentions, why not kill him along the way? Once we arrived at his house, how could he allow me to do anything? Pi Shi drove her husband out last night and wouldn’t let him enter the room. The poisoned food this morning was prepared by Pi Shi; I had nothing to do with it.” Seeing that both sides had their own arguments, County Magistrate Wang ordered the jailers to temporarily lock them up and said, “I’ll send people to investigate further before trying the case again.” As for the two of them, they were taken to the southern prison.

Meanwhile, Pi Shi sent someone secretly to Zhao Ang, asking him to come quickly and arrange things. Zhao Ang brought silver from the Shen family—100 taels for the jailer in charge, 80 taels for the scribe, 50 taels for the judge handling the case, 50 taels for the doorkeeper, 60 taels for the jailers, 20 taels each for the guards—and so all arrangements were made. He wrapped 1,000 taels of silver in a bag and gave it to County Magistrate Wang as a gift of wine; the magistrate accepted it.

Early the next morning, the court session began, and the jailers brought Pi Shi in. She arrived soon after and knelt down in court. The magistrate said, “Last night I had a dream in which Shen Hong said, ‘It was Su Shi who poisoned me; I have nothing to do with Pi Shi.’” Just as Yu Tangchun was about to explain, the magistrate became furious and said, “People are like pests; they won’t confess unless beaten.” He ordered the jailers, “Beat her hard! See if she confesses or not. If she doesn’t, beat her to death!” Unable to endure the torture, Yu Jie said, “I confess.” The magistrate ordered, “Remove the torture instruments.” The jailer handed Yu Jie a pen to write her confession. The magistrate said, “Pi Shi shall be released under bail, while Yu Tangchun shall remain in prison.” The jailers put shackles on Yu Jie’s wrists and feet and took her to the southern prison. The prison wardens, having received silver from Zhao Ang, abused Yu Jie in every possible way. They waited for higher authorities to give their approval before submitting charges to end her life. It was truly a plan to trap a tiger and catch a dragon, ending the life of a pitiful woman. Fortunately, there was a jailer named Liu Zhiren who was honest and selfless. He already knew that Pi Shi and Zhao Ang were involved, as arranged by Wang Po. A few days ago, he had seen Wang Po buying arsenic at an apothecary, claiming it was for killing rats. This made him suspicious. Now, with murder committed and Zhao Ang using the Shen family’s money to bribe officials to convict Su Shi, where was justice? After hesitating for a while, he decided...

Go down to the prison and take a look. That guard was there forcing Sister Yu to pay for kerosene. Zhi Ren dismissed the crowd, comforted Sister Yu with kind words, and asked about her grievances. Sister Yu wept as she recounted her story. Seeing no one around, Zhi Ren detailed the affair between Student Zhao and Lady Pi, as well as how Wang Po had tried to ransom her medicine, then instructed her to be patient and wait for an opportunity when he could help her lodge her complaint. “I’ll provide for your meals,” he said. Sister Yu thanked him repeatedly. Seeing that Liu Zhi Ren had taken matters in hand, the guard dared not say anything more. This incident is left unmentioned here.

Meanwhile, since the young man became an official in Zhengding Prefecture, he worked to eliminate corruption and bring benefits to the people, earning both the respect of officials and the goodwill of the commoners. Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about Yu Tangchun, day and night. One day, while deep in worry, his servant reported that a new wife had arrived from his mother’s household. Upon hearing this, he welcomed her into the house and met her. Though he said nothing, he thought to himself, “Her appearance is quite decent, but how can she compare to Yu Tangchun’s charm?” A wedding banquet was held, and they drank the marriage cup. After the ceremony, he suddenly remembered Duojiao: “I had hoped we would stay together until old age, but who would have thought you’d marry Shen Hong, while this official position fell to someone else?” Although he was with Lady Liu, his heart remained with Sister Yu, causing him distress. That very night, he contracted typhoid fever. Recalling the vow he had made with Sister Yu to remain unmarried each other, he grew confused. As soon as he closed his eyes, he saw Sister Yu by his side. Lady Liu sent people to pray everywhere, and officials from the prefecture came to offer their regards and invited renowned doctors to diagnose and treat him. It took a month before he recovered. After serving in office for over a year and gaining a great reputation, he was summoned to the capital for an examination of officials across the country. After completing the examination, he returned to his post, burned incense to heaven and earth, praying to be assigned to Shanxi so he could keep in touch with Yu Tangchun. Soon, a messenger came and reported, “Your Excellency has been appointed as the inspector of Shanxi.” Hearing this, he placed his hands on his forehead in relief: “This fulfills my lifelong wish!” The next day, he received his official seal, bid farewell to the court, set off at night, and arrived in the provincial capital of Shanxi. He immediately issued orders to start his inspection tour in Pingyang Prefecture. Once there, he sat in the procurator’s office and reviewed the case files. Seeing that Su Yu Tangchun had been sentenced to a severe punishment, he became alarmed: “There must be something suspicious here.” He called over a clerk and said, “Choose someone capable and accompany me on a secret investigation. You others must stay inside and not let any information leak out.”

The young man then changed into simple green clothes and secretly left the procurator’s office with the clerk. They hired two mules and set off on the road to Hongtong County. Along the way, the porter asked casually, “What important business brings you two gentlemen to Hongtong County?” The young man replied, “I’m going to Hongtong County to take a concubine. I wonder if anyone could act as a matchmaker for me?” The porter said, “You mean to marry someone from our county? There was a wealthy man who died because of marrying a young woman.” The young man asked, “How did he die?” The porter explained, “That wealthy man’s name was Shen Hong, and his wife’s name was Yu Tangchun. She was brought from the capital. His first wife, Lady Pi, had an affair with Zhao Ang from the neighboring household. Fearing that the man would find out, she poisoned Shen Hong to death. Then Lady Pi and Zhao Ang sent Yu Tangchun to this county, paid bribes to the officials, forced her to confess under torture, sentenced her to death, and put her in prison.”

“If it weren’t for losing one silver coin, I would have died by now.” The young master asked again, “Is Yu Tangchun in prison now?” The boy replied, “No.” The young master said, “I want to marry a girl. Who do you think could act as a matchmaker?” The boy said, “I’ll take you to Aunt Wang’s house; she’s very good at matchmaking.” The young master asked, “How do you know she’s good at matchmaking?” The boy replied, “Zhao Ang and Lady Pi were both matched through her.” The young master said, “Let’s go to her house then.” The boy led him to Aunt Wang’s house and called out, “Auntie, I’ve brought a guest to your house. This guest wants to marry a girl; could you act as a matchmaker for him?” Aunt Wang said, “Thank you for your trouble. I’ll earn some money to thank you.” Then the boy left.

That night, the young master talked with Aunt Wang. Seeing that she was eloquent, he realized she was an experienced matchmaker. At dawn, he went to check the front and back doors of Zhao’s prison. They were adjacent to Shen Hong’s house, making it convenient to carry out plans. After returning and having breakfast, he paid Aunt Wang for her lodging and said, “I didn’t bring any gifts. I’ll return to the provincial capital first and discuss this further.” He hired a donkey and rushed back to the provincial capital overnight. In the evening, he entered the procuratorate—details omitted.

The next morning, the trial schedule was announced, assigning cases to different counties. After all officials paid their respects, they were ordered to begin the trials. The county magistrate returned to the county and instructed the clerks in the criminal division to review the case files immediately, preparing them for trial the next day—details omitted. Meanwhile, Liu Zhiren and Yu Jie wrote a petition detailing their grievances and hid it on them.

Early the next morning, the county magistrate sat at the prison gate and called out the prisoners who were to be brought in. Yu Jie, shackled and in tears, followed the guards to the entrance of the procuratorate, waiting for the door to open. After the patrol officer finished his business, the order for the trial was given. The young master first called for Lady Su. Yu Jie pleaded her innocence and handed over the petition from her bosom. Seeing Yu Jie in such a state, the young master felt deeply saddened and ordered the clerk to take the petition. After reading it, he asked, “You married Shen Hong as a young woman. How many men have you had since then?” Yu Jie replied, “Sir! Since I was young, I’ve had only one man—a gentleman who was a third-rank official in the Ministry of Rites in Nanjing.” Fearing she might reveal embarrassing details, the young master snapped, “Enough! I’m only asking about the murder case here; there’s no need for more talk.” Yu Jie said, “Sir! If it’s about murder, just ask Lady Pi and you’ll know.” The young master ordered Lady Pi to be questioned, and Yu Jie repeated her story. Then he told Judge Liu, “I’ve heard that you are fair and incorruptible, unwilling to bend the law for personal gain. Since I took office, before even starting my inspections, I came to Hongtong County and discovered that Lady Pi poisoned her own husband, causing Lady Su to suffer injustice. Please help me investigate this matter thoroughly.” With that, the young master left the courtroom.

Judge Liu returned to the courthouse, entered the hall, and said, “Lady Su, why did you murder your own husband?” Yu Jie replied, “It’s all an injustice!”

It’s clear that Pi Shi colluded with Wang Po to poison the man together with Zhao Ang. The county magistrate demanded money and forced them to confess. Today, this woman has come to lodge a complaint, hoping that the just judge will do justice.” Judge Liu ordered his servants to bring Pi Shi forward and asked, “Is your relationship with Zhao Ang truly sincere?” Pi Shi denied it. Judge Liu then had Zhao Ang and Wang Po brought in to face each other. Despite being subjected to various forms of torture, they refused to confess. Judge Liu then called Xiao Duanming over and said, “You delivered the food to the household master—surely you must know something. Tell me!” Xiao Duanming replied, “Sir, I’ll tell you! That day, my mother personally prepared the food and asked this woman to deliver it to my father. When she brought it to the western hall, my father asked the bride to eat it too. The bride locked herself in her room, refused to get up, and said, ‘Don’t eat it.’ My father ate it by himself and immediately died from bleeding from his mouth and nose.” Judge Liu then questioned Zhao Ang about their affair, and Xiao Duanming also spoke out. Zhao Ang said, “This is solid evidence bought by Su Shi.” After pondering for a while, Judge Liu sent Pi Shi and the others to separate prisons. He then called a scribe over and said, “These scoundrels refuse to confess. I’ll use a trick now: I’ll place a large chest inside the dungeon and drill several holes in it. You hide inside with paper and pen, making sure no information leaks out. When I bring them in again and they still refuse to confess, lock them in different corners of the chest and write down whatever they say.” After giving these instructions, the scribe prepared a large chest and hid inside it.

Judge Liu then ordered his servants to bring Pi Shi back for further interrogation and asked, “Will you confess or not?” Zhao Ang, Pi Shi, and Wang Po all pleaded together, saying, “Even if we’re beaten to death, how can we confess?” Judge Liu became furious and ordered, “All of you go and eat first. Torture these scoundrels thoroughly. Put them in the dungeon, along with Xiao Duanming and the other three, locking them in separate places so they can’t communicate.” The servants locked the four of them in the corners of the chest. Everyone left.

Pi Shi raised her head and, seeing no one around, cursed, “Xiao Duanming! You wretched servant! How dare you spread lies? If you talk nonsense again today, I’ll kill you right here at home!” Xiao Duanming said, “If it weren’t for the pain from being trapped, I wouldn’t speak either.” Wang Po then said, “Sister Pi, I can’t endure this torture any longer. Wait until Judge Liu comes out, and then I’ll tell him everything.” Zhao Ang said, “Good wife, I owe you so much! If we get into trouble in court, I’ll serve you wholeheartedly and treat you as my own mother.” Wang Po replied, “I won’t listen to your flattery anymore. You promised to make things right, to recognize me as your mother; you promised two stones of wheat, but still owe eight sheng; you promised one stone of rice, all mixed with chaff; two sets of clothes, but only gave me one blue skirt; you promised me a good house, but I never got one. This is all your doing—there’s no fairness at all. You just make me suffer through torture.” Pi Shi said, “Old woman, this time, if we get out…”

“Dare I forget your kindness? If we get through today without being accused, then everything will be fine.” The scribe in the cabinet wrote down everything he said on paper.

When Judge Liu entered the court, he first ordered the cabinet to be opened. The scribe rushed out, and everyone grew fearful. Judge Liu read what the scribe had recorded and decided to interrogate them again; all three confessed without being beaten. Zhao Ang wrote down everything clearly from start to finish. Once their confessions were completed, they were submitted to the judge. After reading them, Judge Liu asked Su Shi, “Have you been a prostitute since childhood, or did you come from a respectable family?” Su Shi explained in detail how Su Huai had forced her into prostitution, first by paying 30,000 taels of gold to Minister Wang, and later by having her driven away by a brothel owner who sold her as a slave to Shen Hong as a concubine—she never slept with him at all. Judge Liu, knowing that the young man was related to the court, wrote down the verdict: Pi Shi should be executed by strangulation, while Zhao Ang deserved a severe punishment. Wang Po, for facilitating this, was given a light punishment as a warning.

County Magistrate Wang, due to his greed and cruelty, was removed from office, and the stolen money was not returned to the court. Su Huai, for forcing someone into prostitution, was sentenced to military service, with a heavy penalty imposed within three months.

After finishing the official documents, Judge Liu imprisoned Pi Shi along with the others. The next day, he personally took the records to the procuratorate. The young man invited Judge Liu to the back room for tea and asked, “How should Su Shi be dealt with?” Judge Liu replied, “She should be sent back to her hometown to marry another man.” The young man kept his attendants away and shared his heartfelt feelings with Judge Liu, explaining his vow from youth. “I am grateful that you sent someone secretly to Beijing to let me stay temporarily with blacksmith Wang. I truly appreciate your efforts.” It goes without saying that Judge Liu carried out this request.

The young man then issued orders to bring Su Huai and Yi Chengjin before the court in Beijing according to the law. Su Huai had already died. Yi Chengjin recognized the young man and called out, “Brother-in-law Wang!” The young man ordered him to be beaten sixty times again and fitted with a heavy collar. Before half a month passed, alas! It’s true that even ten thousand taels of gold can’t buy life—once beauty turns to ashes.

A year later, when the young man’s term ended, he returned to Beijing. Finding that time had passed, he went to blacksmith Wang’s place to inquire about news. Blacksmith Wang said that Jin Ge was there, living in Dingyin Alley. The young man went to Dingyin Alley and met Yu Jie; both cried bitterly. The young man knew of Yu Jie’s virtue in remaining chaste, and Yu Jie knew that the censor Wang was actually the young man. They thanked each other. The young man said, “My parents married a woman named Liu, who is very virtuous. She also knows about you and won’t be jealous.” That night, they drank and spent the night together, united as one. The next day, blacksmith Wang and Jin Ge came to offer their congratulations. The young man thanked them for their past kindnesses and instructed them regarding Su Huai’s family.

Purchased in spring; now Su Huai and his wife have passed away. They will leave their wealth to Wang Jiang and Jin Ge to manage, as a reward for their kindness. After submitting a request to visit his family, he bid farewell to the court and rode back to Nanjing with Yu Tangchun.

Upon arriving at his home, his servant hurriedly reported to the master, “The young master has arrived.” The master was overjoyed upon hearing this. The young man entered the hall, set up an incense altar, and bowed to heaven and earth, as well as to his parents and siblings-in-law. He also met his two brothers-in-law and sisters. After that, he introduced Yu Tangchun for the proper rituals. When Yu Jie entered the room, she said to Lady Liu, “Please sit down, grandmother, so I can bow to you.” Lady Liu replied, “How can you say such things? You come first, and I come after.” Yu Jie said, “You are from a noble family, while I am of humble origin.” The young man was extremely happy. That day, they established clear roles between wives and concubines, and the whole family lived in harmony. The young man then said to Wang Ding, “You were right to repeatedly advise me in Beijing. From now on, I will appoint you as the head steward and reward you with a large sum of money.” Later, Wang Jinglong rose to the position of Censor-in-Chief; his wives and concubines had children, and their descendants thrived to this day. There is a poem that says: “The Zheng family was already famous during the Yuanhe era; the three high-ranking officials became news.”

How many charming young men are there? Those whose husbands are noble and wives are honored—do they have children?

Volume 25: Gui Yuanwai’s Repentance in Adversity

Who can compare to the friendships of ancient times? Spring dreams and autumn clouds cannot be relied upon.
Without support in difficult times, affection is mere pretense; polite greetings are just empty words.
Chen Lei’s loyalty exceeds even that of glue and lacquer; Guan Zhong and Bao Shuya remained friends through life and death.
If one abandons such bonds, in harsh times only bamboo and pines remain as true companions.

It is said that during the Tianshun era of the Yuan dynasty, in Wuchu District of Suzhou Prefecture in the south, there lived an elder named Shi Ji, with the courtesy name Jinren. His father, Shi Jian, with the courtesy name Gongming, was a man of integrity and honesty, who managed his household frugally and refused to waste even a single coin. He had Shi Ji when he was already over fifty years old. Having a son late in life, he cherished him dearly. At the age of eight, he sent him to study at the local scholar’s house. The scholar, seeing his intelligence and noticing that he was about the same age as his own son, Zhi De, had them sit together. Although there were many students in the school, of varying ages, these two were particularly intelligent and eager to learn, making rapid progress in their studies. Later, Zhi De fell ill and died. Shi Ji informed his father, who invited Zhi De to study at his home, where they studied together and grew very close. Before long, they traveled together and took the exams. Zhi De passed and became an official, while the Shi family failed repeatedly. They then spent their wealth to help the poor and needy, hoping to become famous as generous heroes. Shi Jian, being a man who valued money greatly, was worried when he saw his son spending freely. Fearing that his son would exhaust their wealth and leave them in poverty, he secretly buried valuables in cellars, in several places, without letting anyone know.

I know. It should be left for one’s son only when the time of death approaches. This is common among wealthy families. As the saying goes: Always think about the day it will come, never wait until there’s no time to think.

If Shi Gongping had often suffered from headaches and stomachaches in his youth, and was weak and sickly, he too would have been doomed to an early death. Even if he was healthy in his youth, in old age he might lie bedridden for half a month or ten days. His son would serve him with medicine day and night, but the words from that cellar would still be spoken. Yet since he was over ninety years old, he remained energetic, strong, and quick on his feet. If he fell asleep one night and didn’t wake up, though it was considered a fortunate death, he never left any last words or instructions. As the saying goes: As long as there’s breath, there are countless uses; without it, everything comes to an end.

Shi Ji was determined to study hard, so proper funerals and burials were carried out with great care.

By then, Shi Ji was over forty and still had no children. After completing three years of filial duty, his wife, Yan Shi, advised him to take a concubine. Shi Ji refused and instead devoted himself to reciting the “White-Clothed Avalokiteshvara Sutra,” printing copies to distribute, and making a vow: “On the day my child is born, I will donate three hundred gold pieces to build a temple.” A year later, Yan Shi became pregnant and gave birth to a son. After the three-day ceremony for cutting the baby’s hair, the couple discussed fulfilling their vow and named the boy Shi Huan. When the baby was one month old, they held a celebration. Shi Ji gathered three hundred taels of silver and went to the Water-Moon Avalokiteshvara Temple on Tiger Hill to offer prayers. Just as he was about to ask the abbot to take care of building the temple, he heard crying coming from below. Listening carefully, the sound was very pitiful.

Shi Ji went down from the temple to the Thousand-Person Rock to see what was happening. There, he saw a man sitting by the Sword Pond, gazing at the water and sobbing uncontrollably.

When he approached, he recognized that the man’s surname was Gui and his name Fuwu. They had lived on the same street as children and studied together at Master Zhi’s school. Within a year, Gui’s parents moved to Kenkou to farm, so Gui went off to study. They met a few times later, but lost contact for over ten years. Who would have thought they would meet again today? Shi Ji was surprised and called out to him, asking what was wrong. Gui could only cry and couldn’t speak. Moved with compassion, Shi Ji took him by the arm and brought him to the Avalokiteshvara Temple, asking, “Brother Gui, what pain do you suffer? If you tell me, perhaps I can help share your burden.” At first, Gui refused to speak, but after repeated urging, he finally confessed: “My ancestors left me a house and a hundred acres of land. With that, I could support myself. Unfortunately, influenced by others’ words who said farmers made little profit while merchants made more, I used my meager assets to borrow three hundred taels of silver from Lord Li’s office and went to Yanjing to sell silk. But things didn’t go as planned. After several attempts, both the principal and interest were demanded by the officials, like wolves…”

“The tiger demanded excessive interest, estimating the value of all the fields, houses, and furniture. His wife and two sons also became his property. Yet this was still not enough; he forced someone to frame a relative in order to get compensation. Desperate, that person fled at night. With no way out, he thought of throwing himself into a stream to end his life, which is why he cried.”

Master Shi felt pity and said, “Brother, do not worry. I happen to have three hundred taels of silver here for repairing the temple. How about I give it to you so that your wife, husband, and children can be reunited?” Gui Sheng exclaimed in shock, “Are you joking?” Master Shi laughed heartily and said, “Since you have no request of me, why would I joke? Although our friendship isn’t deep, we were classmates in our youth. Whenever I saw the corrupt customs in Wu region and friends in trouble, I would offer empty words of comfort without ever providing any real help. Sometimes I even spoke ill of them behind their backs, taking pleasure in their misfortunes—this is what I truly hate. Moreover, your current disaster has affected your wife and children. I’ve always wished for a son; mine is only a month old. I pray to the Buddha to protect him and let him grow up healthy. If you abandon your own son and hand him over to others, it will tarnish your family’s reputation. How could I bear to see that? My words come from the bottom of my heart.” Then he opened the basket and handed three hundred taels of silver to Gui Sheng. Gui Sheng didn’t dare accept it right away and said, “Since you remember our old friendship and are willing to help, please let me keep a receipt. When things improve, I will definitely repay you.” Master Shi replied, “I gave this out of compassion for you. Why would I expect repayment? You should go back quickly; I’m afraid your wife is worried.” Overjoyed beyond his dreams, Gui Sheng accepted the silver and knelt down in gratitude. Shi Ji hurriedly helped him up. Gui Sheng, with tears in his eyes, said, “Your kindness has saved my entire family. Even if I had new parents, I couldn’t repay such a debt. In three days, I will definitely come to thank you personally.” He then kowtowed before the Goddess Guanyin and vowed, “I owe Master Shi my life. If I can’t repay him in this life, I will serve him as a dog or horse in the next.” He left happily. Later, a poem was written to praise Master Shi’s virtue: “He spares those in distress and shows pity to the poor; three hundred taels of silver seem as worthless as dust.”

“Who among those in power today remembers those who were classmates in childhood?”

Master Shi said to the abbot, “The silver brought for temple repairs can be used for other urgent needs. I’ll make it up to you later.” The abbot replied, “It doesn’t matter if it’s delayed by a day.” Shi Ji went home and told Lady Yan about it. She didn’t find it strange either. The next day, she gathered another three hundred taels of silver and sent someone to the Water Moon Guanyin Temple to fulfill their vow.

On the third day, Gui Sheng brought his twelve-year-old eldest son, Gui Gao, to personally express his thanks. Seeing the father and son together, Shi Ji was even happier. He welcomed them warmly, offering food and drink, and casually asked about repaying the debt. Gui Sheng replied, “Thanks to the kind person’s generosity, I already have enough capital. But that man calculated excessive interest and took all the land. All that’s left is just my family together.” Tears streamed down his face. Shi Ji asked, “With only a few close relatives left, how will you make a living from now on?” Gui Sheng said they had nothing to rely on for daily expenses. His family came from a noble background...

Ashamed of being embarrassed in his hometown, he had no choice but to go to another county and work as a laborer. Judge Shi said, “One must be thorough in everything one does.” “Outside my house, I have a mulberry and jujube orchard, along with several thatched cottages, and ten acres of land beside the orchard. If I work hard at tending the plants, I can make ends meet. If you don’t mind a simple life, how about staying here for a while?” Gui Sheng replied, “If I could live like this, I wouldn’t even worry about starvation. But since Judge Shi hasn’t yet been repaid for his kindness, I feel deeply guilty for accepting more favors. I have two sons—twelve years old and eleven years old. Please let me keep one of them to serve you and show my gratitude, just as one would serve a noble official.” Judge Shi said, “Since I am your friend, your sons are also my sons. How could such a thing be possible!” He then called a servant to check the calendar for an auspicious day, ordered the boy to move in, and sent someone to instruct the old servant in charge of the orchard to clean the house thoroughly, so it could be handed over to the Gui family when the time came. Gui Sheng and his sons thanked their benefactor. Gui Gao kowtowed to Judge Shi. Judge Shi tried to return the gesture, but Gui Sheng held him back, so he could only accept it. Gui Sheng repeatedly expressed his deep gratitude before bidding farewell to his sons. On the day they moved in, the Shi family sent more gifts such as cakes, rice, and money. It was truly as if they reached out with hands that could grasp clouds and lift people up from the earth.

A few days later, Gui Sheng prepared four boxes filled with fresh fruits, plump chickens, and big carp, and asked his wife, Sister Sun, to take a sedan chair to the Shi family to express their thanks. Lady Yan prepared food as a gift. Sister Sun was eloquent and good at speaking smoothly. She got along well with Lady Yan right from the start, becoming like sisters. There was even a strange incident: the young child in the Shi family, who wasn’t yet one year old, became happy upon seeing Sister Sun and clung to her, wanting to be held. Sister Sun said, “To be honest with you, I’m pregnant, so I can’t hold the baby.” There is a common belief that if a pregnant woman holds a child, the child’s spleen and stomach will be damaged, causing green stools—a condition known as “taking on the mark,” which only resolves after childbirth. Lady Yan asked, “How many months along are you?” Sister Sun replied, “Five full months.” Lady Yan counted on her fingers and said, “You conceived last December, so you should give birth around September this year. You already have two sons. If you give birth to a daughter this time, I’d like to form a kinship bond between our families.” Sister Sun said, “I’m grateful for your kindness, but I’m afraid it might not work out.” They talked until evening before parting. When Sister Sun returned home, she recounted what Lady Yan had said. Her husband was overjoyed at the idea of having a daughter to form such a close relationship for life.

Time flew by, and by early September, Sister Sun indeed gave birth to a daughter. The Shi family sent more supplies of firewood and rice, and Lady Yan sent a maid to offer her regards. At that time, they thought it was just normal family visits, and their relationship was very close, so no further mention is needed.

It is said that in the mulberry and jujube garden there was a ginkgo tree, dozens of feet in circumference, and it was believed that the “Gods of Five Virtues” resided within it. Every year, on the first day of the twelfth lunar month, the gardener would burn paper money and offer wine beneath the tree. Gui Sheng knew of this custom, and he felt that it was his fate to prosper. That year, while burning paper money, he suddenly saw a white mouse walk around the tree once before diving straight down into a hole at the base of the tree and disappearing. When Gui Sheng looked, he saw a large hole where the tree roots emerged, with the white mouse still looking around at the edge of the hole. Gui Sheng told his wife, “Could this mouse be an incarnation of the gods?” Sister Sun replied, “Birds with thin feathers have long hair; when people are poor, their wisdom wanes. I’ve often heard that golden snakes represent gold and white mice represent silver, but I’ve never heard of gods turning into mice. Perhaps there’s wealth buried under the tree. The heavens, pitying our poverty, sent this white mouse to appear—though it’s not certain. Tomorrow, why don’t you go to the blind man Tong’s shop and conduct a ritual to see if wealth will appear?” Gui Sheng usually listened to his wife’s advice, so early the next morning he indeed went to Tong the Blind’s shop to perform the ritual, believing there would surely be some wealth. The couple decided to buy a pig’s head to offer as an offering to the gods.

In the dead of night, the two of them took two shovels and began digging at the hole beneath the tree roots. After about three feet deep, they uncovered a small square brick. Beneath the brick were three ceramic jars, with rice spread on top of them—already rotten. Pushing aside the rice, they found white objects inside. It turned out the silver was buried in the soil, and it hadn’t moved because of the rice. The couple exclaimed in shame and used all four hands to carry out the silver, leaving the ceramic jars untouched. They then covered the hole with bricks and soil. When they returned to their room, they counted the silver—about 1,500 taels. Gui Sheng planned to return 300 taels as repayment for what Shi Shi had given them, using the rest for future business. Sister Sun said, “That won’t do!” Gui Sheng asked why. She replied, “If Shi Shi knows we came here in extreme poverty, and we tell her where these 300 taels came from, she’ll become suspicious. If she finds out it was dug up from under the ginkgo tree—something that belongs to her garden, inherited from her ancestors—she’ll demand three or four thousand taels. How can you argue with that? Even if we give it all to her, she’ll still think it’s not enough. Not only will she not appreciate our kindness, but things might even get worse.” Gui Sheng asked, “What do you suggest?” Sister Sun said, “These ten acres of farmland and a few mulberry and jujube trees won’t suffice for our lives. Fortunately, heaven has bestowed us with hidden gold. Why not secretly buy some property from her and gradually become wealthy on our own? Then we can repay her kindness and both of us will be satisfied.” Gui Sheng said, “A wise woman is better than a man. You’re right. I have distant relatives in Kuaiji, but due to poverty I haven’t been in touch with them for a long time. Now that I have a thousand taels, I’m sure they won’t reject me. I can buy good land and property there, collect the profits each year, and after a few years, I’ll surely become very wealthy.” After discussing it, they made up their minds. When spring came, they pretended to visit relatives in Zhejiang, secretly purchased some land, entrusted someone to manage it, and went to check the accounts every year.

Once. When returning, he wore old clothes to hide his wealth. Over these five years, Gui Sheng had become quite successful in Kuaiji County, Shaoxing Prefecture, having even purchased a house, though he kept this from the Shi family.

One day, the children of both families contracted chickenpox at the same time. Shi Ji took his son to see a doctor and then asked the doctor to check on Gui Sheng’s daughter as well, treating her like his own daughter-in-law. Fortunately, both recovered. There was an old man named Li Meixuan who often visited the Shi family. He invited nearby neighbors to join him and Shi Ji in celebrating, with Gui Sheng also attending the banquet. Shi Ji proposed a marriage alliance, and Li Meixuan volunteered to act as the matchmaker. Everyone agreed to this arrangement. Gui Sheng was also in favor and went home to discuss it with his wife, Sister Sun. She said, “As the saying goes, ‘A kind person shouldn’t handle military affairs, and a righteous person shouldn’t manage wealth.’ Although Shi Sheng is a good man, his kindness has not brought him wealth, and his family’s finances are gradually declining. Our family already has properties in Kuaiji; by marrying into their family, we can have more support for those lands.” Gui Sheng replied, “My wise wife is right, but how can I refuse such kind intentions?” She suggested, “Just say that your family is too poor to keep up with their standards. If they insist on the marriage, say that your children are still young and it’s better to wait until they grow up.”

As the ancients said, “Human greed knows no bounds.” When they were poor, they longed to marry into higher-status families but couldn’t; now that they had succeeded, they began to make excuses.

Because life became comfortable, they forgot the hardships they once faced.

Shi Ji was an honest man and thought Gui Sheng was truly humble, suspecting nothing wrong.

Three more years passed. Suddenly, Shi Ji fell ill and despite treatment, he died. There’s no need to go into detail about the funeral arrangements. Gui Fuwu’s wife took advantage of this situation to get rid of her husband. They prepared some food and wine and went to the Shi family to pay their respects. After paying his respects, Gui Sheng left, while Sister Sun stayed behind and said to Lady Yan, “My husband owes so much to our benefactor, and we’re grateful every day. We still haven’t repaid him enough. Now that our benefactor has passed away, how dare we continue to live in their house? It’s better to move elsewhere and find another way to make a living. We’ve come to say goodbye today.” Lady Yan replied, “Why would you say such things? Even though my late husband is gone, I can still make decisions. I need your company in these difficult times. How can I bear to let you go?” Sister Sun said, “I really don’t want to leave you either. But since we’re not related, staying here would lead to gossip. When your husband grows up, he’ll surely want to take back what belongs to him. It’s better to end things properly and fulfill our benefactor’s wishes before he passed away.” Lady Yan couldn’t stop her, and they parted in tears. Gui Sheng’s family moved to Kuaiji and left, as if birds released from a cage, never to return.

As for the Shi family, ever since Shi Jicun began to be generous and kind-hearted, their wealth had already dwindled. With the additional expenses from this bereavement, they inevitably incurred some debts. Mrs. Yan, though virtuous, lacked the ability to manage things; she struggled to support her orphaned children over the years and gradually gave up their farmland. Within five or six years, all their assets were exhausted, leaving them unable to make ends meet, and even their servants ran away. As the saying goes, “Good people are blessed by heaven; they find a way out in desperate situations.” Coincidentally, a man returned from his post. His surname was Zhi and his name De. He had studied with Shi Jicun since childhood, became famous, served in various positions, and eventually reached the rank of counselor in Sichuan Province. At that time, during the Yuan Shundi reign, corrupt officials held power, and government affairs were in disarray. Zhi De did not wish to remain an official and retired from public service. Upon hearing about Shi Jicun’s misfortune and the family’s growing poverty, he felt deep compassion and went to offer his condolences personally. Shi Huan went out to greet him, behaving with courtesy despite the heat. Mr. Zhi asked, “Have you considered finding a wife for him?” Shi Huan replied, “Our ancestors left us little wealth, and my elderly mother still lacks proper food—how could we think of such things!” Mr. Zhi silently shed tears and said, “Your ancestor cared about others’ troubles and shared in their joys—such people are truly rare in this world. If heaven favors them, their descendants will surely prosper. I have long been away from home due to my official duties and was unable to share in your hardships; I am truly at fault. I have a 13-year-old daughter who is quite suitable in age for your niece. I would like to arrange a marriage between them through a matchmaker. Please convey this to your mother; she must not refuse!” Shi Huan thanked him, saying, “I dare not.”

The next day, Mr. Zhi sent someone with gifts of money and silk to propose that Shi Huan’s son become his adopted son-in-law. Mrs. Yan, moved by his kindness, agreed. Shi Huan chose a day to visit his parents-in-law, stayed at their house to study, and hired a tutor to teach him. Considering that his mother, Mrs. Yan, had no income at home, he brought firewood and rice and ordered his son to visit home every ten days. Mrs. Yan and her son were deeply grateful. Later generations commented that while people often exploit the poor using their wealth, even in arranged marriages there are those who seek personal gain. Yet Mr. Zhi offered his daughter to marry an orphan from a poor family—a true act of great virtue! This shows that wealth is like dirt compared to righteousness, which is priceless.

Although Mr. Zhi had held many official positions and aimed to be an honest official, his resources were limited. With the added burden of supporting his son-in-law’s family, he was in great straits. Someone mentioned that Gui Fuwu had moved to Kuaiji County, where he had made a fortune, owning fertile land and beautiful houses worth tens of thousands of taels. He now went by the name Gui Qian, and people called him “Mr. Gui.” Mr. Zhi knew the background of this situation, so when he heard this, he told his son-in-law, “Gui Gongwu once received countless favors from your family. Not to mention other things, just repaying one of his debts alone cost 300 taels. Now that he has succeeded, he doesn’t come to check on you—surely he doesn’t know how poor your family has become. If you go to Kuaiji to see him, he will surely give you generous gifts. It’s only right that he does this, and I’m sure his family would also welcome your visit. Discuss it with your mother.” Shi Huan went home and told his mother. Mrs. Yan said, “If the Gui family has indeed prospered, they surely won’t abandon me. But back then you were young and didn’t know many of the details. His wife, Aunt Sun, and my sisters…”

Out of gratitude, I will go with you. If the man is away, I can speak on his behalf.” Shi Huan replied. Zhi Gong gave him money for expenses and also wrote a letter to Gui Qian, describing their friendship as classmates and asking him to take care of Shi Huan and his mother.

They immediately bought a boat and headed straight to Kuaiji County in Shaoxing. They asked, “Where does Mr. Gui Qian live?” Someone pointed out, “It’s on the main street inside Ximen City; the first set of tall buildings there is his home.” Shi Huan stayed at an inn outside Ximen. The next day, Mrs. Yan kept him at the inn. Shi Huan wrote a card introducing himself as a younger member of the family, along with Zhi Gong’s letter, and went into the city to Gui Qian’s house. The entrance was very neat—there was a tall gatehouse with lofty eaves. Flowers and trees adorned the courtyard, and chairs were arranged in the hall. A path paved with flower bricks led to a three-foot-high stone staircase. Servants came and went, some in charge of managing the house and fields; those who came to the door were either there to pay rent or debts, or they were people from Kuaiji County seeking employment.

Seeing Gui Qian’s magnificent residence, Shi Huan felt pleased inwardly, thinking he had found the right place to seek help. The gatekeeper asked about his background, accepted the letter, and led him outside the main gate to a reception hall where he sat down. On the wall of the hall was a plaque inscribed with the words “Zhi Jia Tang,” written by the famous scholar Yang Tieya. After waiting for quite some time with no response, after about two hours, the gate of the main hall opened, and footsteps were heard as someone came out from the central hall. Shi Huan assumed it must be the host, so he adjusted his clothes and stood upright outside the gate, but the person didn’t appear for a long time. Shi Huan peeked inside through the gate and saw Gui Qian wearing elegant clothes, standing in the courtyard surrounded by more than ten attendants. Gui Qian gave orders here and there, handling household affairs. Servants came and went in groups, some carrying messages and others responding to requests. After another hour, the servants finally left. The gatekeeper reported that there was a guest waiting to see him. Gui Qian asked, “Where?” The reply was, “In the reception hall.” Without inviting him in, Gui Qian walked out of the main gate and straight to the reception hall. Shi Huan bowed to greet him. After exchanging greetings, Gui Qian glanced at him and deliberately asked, “Who are you?” Shi Huan replied, “I am Shi Huan from Changzhou, also known as Jin Ren. My late father used to be on good terms with your uncle. Having lost touch for a long time, I’ve come to pay my respects. Please sit down, sir; I would like to bow to you as well.” Gui Qian didn’t respond warmly and repeatedly said, “No need, no need.” After sitting down and having tea, he ordered the servant to prepare food. Shi Huan was secretly delighted. He then said, “My mother sends her regards to your aunt. She is currently at the inn, so I sent me here first to inform you.” Speaking of past kindnesses, he should have said, “Since your mother is here, please come to my house so we can meet.” But Gui Qian just nodded silently, refusing to engage in conversation.

After a short pause, the young servant reported that lunch was ready. Gui Sheng instructed it to be placed in the reception hall. There was only one table, but it held two sets of dishes. Shi Huan declined to sit down, pulling his chair aside, and Gui Qian also did not take his seat properly. Gui Qian asked, “How old is your young master?” Shi Huan replied, “When my uncle left for Suzhou, I was just eight years old. My mother still feels grateful for his condolences and offerings. It has been six years since we last parted. My family is poor, while my uncle’s fortunes grow day by day—such a stark contrast truly makes one envious.” Gui Qian merely nodded without saying a word. After three rounds of drinking, Shi Huan said, “I have a limited capacity for alcohol, and moreover, my mother is waiting for me at the inn; I dare not drink too much.” Gui Qian didn’t insist either and said, “Since you’ll drink less, hurry and bring the food!” After eating, they neither brought up their past friendship nor discussed family matters. Shi Huan couldn’t hold back any longer and subtly hinted, “As a child, I sat beside my late father and often heard him say that among his friends, only my uncle was truly close. Back then he said my uncle would surely achieve great success in the future. My mother also often praised my aunt as virtuous, kind, and righteous. Fortunately, when my uncle stayed briefly in our garden years ago, our humble household did not neglect him; otherwise, I wouldn’t have the courage to come here today.” Gui Qian lowered his head, shook his hand, and remained silent. Shi Huan added, “Do you still remember the time when we met at the Water Moon Guanyin Temple on Tiger Hill with my late father?” Fearing further talk, Gui Qian quickly said, “I already understand your intentions. There’s no need for more words—fearful that others might hear and bring shame upon me.” With that, he stood up first, and Shi Huan had no choice but to bid farewell, saying, “I must take my leave for now; I’ll come again another day.” Gui Qian saw him off to the door before retreating.

It goes like this:
Others ask me for spring rain,
But I go to ask for frost in June.

Now, turning to another story: Lady Yan waited anxiously at the inn, thinking, “The Gui family will surely send someone to pick me up.” Worrying about the delay, she watched from afar. Soon, the young servant returned and recounted their encounter and interactions. Lady Yan couldn’t help but shed tears and scolded, “Gui Fuwu, don’t you remember the time at the Sword-Dancing Pond?” Just as she was about to list all her grievances, the young servant hurriedly劝 her, “At a time like this when seeking help, let’s not say harsh words. Since he knows the reason for my mother and my son’s visit, he will surely find a solution. We once swore before Guanyin to ‘repay with loyalty,’ so I believe he won’t break his promise. Let me go see him again tomorrow and see what he does.” Lady Yan sighed and had to endure it, spending the night in patience.

The next day, Shi Huan got up early and went to wait in front of the Gui family’s house. Unexpectedly, after seeing Shi Huan, Gui Qian also felt inclined to give his mother and son generous gifts to take back. But Sister-in-Law Sun firmly opposed it, saying, “One should receive guests properly for life, but deal with troublemakers just once. If we invite this trouble onto our doorstep and they taste sweetness, they’ll keep thinking of it, hoping for more. Even if they once did us some favors, they’re still…”

One should generally do good deeds; if even just one person benefits from them, it’s not just our family. When a thousand people need medicine, it’s one person who pays for it. Why should we be so unlucky? If there were justice in the world, those who are kind would become wealthy over time, and wouldn’t end up in such a poor situation! In this world, only the heartless get advantages; those who help others don’t become rich and even end up poor themselves.” Gui Qian said, “Your wisdom is well spoken. But now that this mother and son have come, along with a letter from Master Zhi, how should we send them away?” Sister Sun replied, “I don’t know whether Master Zhi’s letter is true or false. Back in Gusu, I didn’t see him offering any support to me, yet now he sends a letter! Since he cares about the poor and the needy, why doesn’t he use his own wealth? Even ten thousand such letters shouldn’t be trusted. Go and tell the gatekeepers not to welcome these poor wretches when they come.”

“Let them wait until they’re disheartened, then perhaps Jia will give them some money to go back. ‘The first vinegar isn’t sour, the second isn’t spicy.’ There’s no point in worrying; they won’t bother coming again.” With just these words, Gui Qian convinced them.

The evil heart gained another opening, and its darkness deepened further.

Shi Huan waited at the gate for a long time, but the gatekeeper kept delaying, refusing to let him in. When pressed, he pretended to leave. The young official, both ashamed and angry, rolled up his sleeves, his face red, and shouted loudly, “I, Shi, didn’t come here for no reason. ‘When spring winds blow, summer rain is expected.’ When we were wealthy, people also asked me to come, but I was never this dismissive!” Before he could finish shouting, a neatly dressed gentleman came in and asked who was making such a fuss.

Shi Huan didn’t recognize the gentleman at first. He straightened his clothes and said, “I’m Shi from Gusu.” Before he could finish, the gentleman hurriedly bowed and said, “So it’s an old friend. It’s been so long since we last met; we no longer recognized each other. My father has already discussed your request and is arranging things. Why are you so angry? It’s not difficult now; I’ll inform my father right away, and a place will be arranged soon.” Only then did Shi Huan realize that the gentleman was Gui Gao, the eldest son of the Gui family. Hearing his words, he regretted his outburst and wanted to explain himself further, but the gentleman left without waiting. Seeing his rudeness, Shi Huan became even angrier. Hoping that a place would be arranged later, he returned home in tears and told his mother, Lady Yan, in detail. Lady Yan advised, “We’ve traveled hundreds of miles seeking refuge; we should be humble, always prioritize harmony, and avoid provoking anger with sharp words.”

The next morning, Lady Yan reminded him again, “This time, you must be humble and not ask for too much. At least get the three hundred gold pieces back to make ends meet.” Following his mother’s advice, Shi Huan went to the Gui family, bowed deeply, and stood at the gate, holding his breath. He saw servants coming and going freely, and the gatekeeper from yesterday was no longer there. The small house...

He stood there for half a day before finally approaching an older servant and saying, “I am Shi Huan from Gusu. I wish to see the master. Please inform him!” The servant replied, “The master is still drunk from last night’s drinking and is asleep now.” Shi Huan said, “I dare not ask to see the master; even just meeting the senior gentleman would be enough. I didn’t come here on my own today; it was the senior gentleman who asked me to come yesterday.” The servant said, “The senior gentleman set off by boat at dawn this morning to collect rent at Dongzhuang.” Shi Huan tried asking about the second gentleman as well, but the servant replied, “The second gentleman is studying in the academy and doesn’t care about such matters.” As he spoke, someone called him away, and he hurried off. At that moment, Shi Huan was filled with anger, unable to control it. He thought that words from villains shouldn’t be taken seriously, and the master might not really be like that, so he had no choice but to endure it.

After a while, the main gate opened, and Gui Qian came out riding a horse in the courtyard. Shi Huan went up to the horse and bowed in greeting, but Qian ignored him, pointing with his whip and saying, “You’ve come all this way, yet I haven’t kept you here for half a month or ten days. Why then do you act rudely and speak insultingly? I intended to be generous, but now I can’t.” He turned to the servant and said, “Give Shi Huan those two silver ingots from the gift box and send him away.” He added, “I’m giving you these two ingots out of respect for your ancestors. Given your youthful arrogance, don’t expect any money back. Now that you have some funds, leave quickly!” Shi Huan tried to speak again, but Gui Qian whipped his horse and rode away at full speed.

As the saying goes:
“Grass in the snake’s mouth, needles at the scorpion’s tail—
Neither is truly poisonous; the most venomous are those who break promises.”

Those two silver ingots weighed only twenty taels. Considering his youthful nature, he found them unremarkable and left them on the ground. First, the master had already left, and second, he only had money for the journey here, not for returning home. With no other choice, he cried bitterly and told his mother about it. The mother and son looked at the two silver ingots and cried loudly. The innkeeper, Wang Po, saw their grief and asked what happened. Yan Shi explained everything from start to finish. Wang Po said, “Madam, please stop worrying. I know Aunt Sun well; I often visit her place. She’s very kind and hospitable. How could women understand the ungratefulness of men? Since you have such a good relationship with Aunt Sun, let me go tell her that you’re at my inn; she will surely invite you in.” Yan Shi wiped away her tears and thanked her.

The next day, Wang Po, seeing it as a good opportunity, went to Gui’s house to inform Aunt Sun. Aunt Sun said, “Wang Po, don’t believe him. When my husband’s business was struggling, we did borrow some small amounts from him, but we’ve repaid both the principal and interest. He’s not honest—he wasted all his family’s money and now comes here to...”

Autumn wind. My husband kindly treated him to a meal and gave him twenty taels of silver, out of consideration for their past relationship; no one else would do such a thing. Yet he claimed I owed him money. “Wang Po,” I said, “let’s not talk about whether I owe anything or not. Just show me the loan contract—pay back one hundred if it’s one hundred, and one thousand if it’s one thousand.” Wang Po replied, “Your ladyship is right.” She immediately turned around, but Sister Sun called her back, asking her to give one tael of silver and a handkerchief, saying, “These humble gifts are for Aunt Shi as a token of my personal respect. Tell her not to come again, for fear of neglecting her and damaging our relationship.” Hearing this, Wang Po began to suspect that Old Madam Yan was up to no good. She went home and said, “Sister Sun has done very well by asking me to send gifts to Old Madam Yan.” She also added, “If there are any unpaid debts, have Old Madam Yan bring the loan contract so that everything can be settled exactly as agreed.” Yan Min said there had never been a contract in the first place. But Wang Po, seeing those three hundred taels of silver, couldn’t possibly believe it. The mother and son spent a night in distress. At dawn, they paid the bill at the inn and set off back to Suzhou. As the saying goes: When one lacks joy, one’s spirit fades; when misfortune strikes, loneliness increases.

Madam Yan was filled with sorrow for the Gui family, and after the hardships of the journey, she fell ill and stayed bedridden for three months. Shi Huan sought doctors and fortune-tellers, but nothing worked—her fate was sealed! With no clothes to bury her in and no arrangements made, they had no choice but to sell their ancestral house to Lord Niu of the local county to manage it. Lord Niu’s father, Lord Niu Wanhu, had long served under Minister Li and had amassed a fortune through his influence. The young lord used his power to oppress others in every possible way. One of his subordinates, named Guo Diaoer, specialized in finding cheap properties from orphans and widows and buying them at half price. Shi Huan was still young, and although her father-in-law, Master Zhi, was a nobleman of great virtue, he didn’t bother to take care of his own family, let alone his son-in-law’s affairs. Desperate to sell the property, Shi Huan fell into their trap. The house was worth thousands of gold pieces, but Guo Diaoer valued it at only four hundred. He demanded one hundred taels as a deposit, with the rest to be paid after the house was vacated. Shi Huan needed money for burials and relocation, but one hundred taels wasn’t enough. After repeated requests, she was only allowed to get an additional forty taels. That barely covered the burial expenses, and once the grave was dug, little was left. Unable to find a new house, Lord Niu sent people constantly to urge them to vacate the house. Master Zhi, unable to stand by idly, went in person to see Lord Niu to intercede on his son-in-law’s behalf. He went several times, but was not received. Master Zhi said, “Let’s wait until he returns to pay his respects.” But Lord Niu followed an old precedent—like Confucius paying his respects to Yang Huo—by going secretly. Master Zhi returned home and went again, only to find him still not there. Filled with anger, Master Zhi said to his son-in-law, “Those vulgar people don’t understand reason. Don’t go asking them! For now, stay at your nephew’s place until we find a house, then we can discuss moving carefully.”

Following his father-in-law’s advice, Shi Huan decided to temporarily move their belongings to Master Zhi’s house. First, they dismantled the ceiling in their grandfather’s bedroom and transported it to Master Zhi’s place for repairs. Then, inside the grandfather’s room, they found a small box, tightly sealed. They opened it...

Upon looking, there was nothing else but a ledger, which stated: so much silver buried here, so much there—several such locations. It did not say “Written in the hand of Ninety-Elder Gongming.”

He was overjoyed, put it in his sleeve, and instructed everyone not to touch it. He then went to Master Zhi’s house to discuss the matter. After reading the ledger, Master Zhi said, “Since that’s the case, there’s no need to move.” He went with his son-in-law to the location; beneath the left pillar of the bedroom’s frame, as recorded in the ledger, there were two thousand taels of silver hidden there. Indeed, it was correct. They then used 140 taels of silver to buy back the house from Young Master Niu. But Young Master Niu stuck to his earlier decision and refused.

Master Zhi tried to find Young Master Niu’s relatives to intercede, but Young Master Niu demanded double the amount, knowing the Shi family had no such money. Who would have thought that the hidden silver amounted to a total of 280 taels? Young Master Niu had no choice but to accept the money, claiming that the deed could not be found right away and promising to return it the next day. While the Shi family turned their backs, they planned to sue in court. Governor Chen of this region was honest and impartial. After learning about Young Master Niu’s character and with Master Zhi’s explanation on behalf of his son-in-law, he ruled that the original price for buying back the house should be 140 taels, plus 14 taels as payment for the deed. The remaining 126 taels were to be used to help build a school, and the deed was to be returned to Young Master Shi. Guo Diao was punished for instigating the crime. Young Master Niu, from shame turning to anger, wrote a letter to his family, sending them to the capital with a fabricated list of the Shi family’s misdeeds over three generations, asking his father to seek help from Minister Li and local officials to get revenge on the Shi family. Yet, no matter how clever one’s schemes may be, heaven’s justice cannot be defied.

It was as the saying goes: “Trying to pull someone down while still dry; lighting fire against the wind only to burn oneself first.”

At that time, Emperor Yuan Shun ruled poorly, and bandits rose up, causing widespread plunder. The imperial court ordered the military commander to suppress them. Minister Li accepted bribes from the bandits and advocated for pacification. When the truth came out, he was imprisoned along with the rebels. Among those implicated was Captain Niu, who was sentenced to have his entire family executed. An imperial edict was issued immediately. Upon receiving this tragic news, his family rushed back overnight to inform him. In panic, Young Master Niu packed up his belongings, took his wife and daughters, and fled to the sea to escape. There, he encountered the rebel forces led by Fang Guozhen, who seized his wives, concubines, and valuables. Young Master Niu died by the sword—this was the retribution for his evil deeds.

As for Shi Huan, he discovered the hidden silver and bought back his property, digging according to the ledger without error, thus amassing great wealth. Only at the mulberry and jujube orchard, under the ginkgo tree, was there 1,500 taels buried—only three empty urns remained. Thinking it was some magical substance that had vanished, he ignored it and didn’t suspect anything related to Gui Sheng. From then on, he bought back all his lands and properties, and also received support from Master Zhi.

Weng Dai served as manager and became wealthy; it was only a matter of time before he got married.

As for Gui Yuanwai, he was a rich man in Kuaiji. Due to his large amount of land and heavy taxes, the government often harassed him, causing him great distress. There was a neighbor named You Sheng, known as a shrewd man who often traveled to the capital to handle various matters and interact with nobles. One day, Gui Yuanwai discussed this issue with him.

You Sheng said, “Why not buy an official position by paying bribes? This way, you can gain honor and status, and as an official, you’ll be exempt from taxes—two advantages at once.” Gui Yuanwai asked, “I don’t know how much it will cost. Could you help arrange this?” You Sheng replied, “I’m very experienced in this. Many officials in Wu region, like Xu Wanhu and Wei Qianbing, were helped by me. Now they wear fine clothes and receive high salaries. If you want to do this, I’ll surely assist you. It won’t cost more than three thousand, or at least two thousand.” Gui Yuanwai was convinced by his words and gave him fifty taels of silver to get started. He also prepared over three thousand more taels and set out for the capital with You Sheng. Along the way, You Sheng used sweet words to deceive Gui Yuanwai, who trusted him completely and became his brother. Once in the capital, Gui Yuanwai handed over the three thousand taels, allowing You Sheng to use them as he wished.

Once one wears an official robe, they no longer care about having an empty purse.

Half a year passed, and You Sheng came to congratulate him, saying, “Congratulations, brother! You’ll soon become a nobleman! But the current officials are extremely greedy—everything costs ten times more than before. Three thousand isn’t enough; you need five thousand to succeed.” Gui Yuanwai had already spent three thousand taels and feared all his efforts would be wasted. So he asked You Sheng to borrow two thousand taels from some influential family, keeping half for himself and giving one thousand to You Sheng. Two or three months later, four servants came to summon him, saying the new commander of the imperial guards wanted to see him. Gui Yuanwai thought it might be a high-ranking official and asked, “What’s the commander’s surname?” The servant replied, “You’ll find out when you get there. We can’t say now.” Gui Yuanwai quickly got dressed and followed the four men to a large gate. There, the officer wore an official robe and sat in a courtroom. Two men accompanied Gui Yuanwai while the other two went ahead to announce his arrival.

After a while, he was called inside. Gui Yuanwai had never been in a courtroom before, and his heart pounded. The officer ordered him to kneel beneath the eaves. The officer didn’t return his greeting but calmly said, “I’ve already used the money you gave me to obtain this position. I’ll repay it someday; I won’t fail you. But I need money now. I know you still have one thousand taels—please lend it to me quickly, and I’ll return it right away.” Then he ordered the four servants, “Take him there and get the silver back. If he refuses, bring him back to face punishment—I won’t forgive him easily.” Forced by the servants, Gui Yuanwai handed over the silver, too angry to speak. The next day, the creditor…

Gui failed to achieve fame and fortune, so he took the written contract and demanded repayment of the original amount. Gui Qian had no choice but to send someone home to sell assets, securing over two thousand in return to repay the debt.

Having suffered this humiliation, Gui Qian didn’t tell anyone and returned to his hometown in shame. Seeing You Huaji riding a horse with an entourage around him, filled with envy and anger, he couldn’t bear it any longer and declared, “It has to be him or me!” He went to a blacksmith’s shop, forged a sharp three-pronged knife, hid it in his chest, and waited for You Huaji to go to court at dawn the next day to assassinate him, thereby ending his life and relieving his frustration. Uninvolved in the matter, those who were involved became chaotic; planning such an extreme act kept him awake at night. Seeing moonlight through the window, thinking it was morning, he hurriedly got up, but hearing only three beats of the drum from the palace, he returned and waited until dawn. After another night, unable to calm himself, he rushed to You Huaji’s house with the knife. The door was still closed; there was a hole nearby. Unable to stand steady, he instinctively knelt down and crawled into the hole. Inside, the hall was brightly lit, with an old man sitting at a desk. Realizing he looked like Shi Jimo, Gui felt ashamed. When Shi saw him, Gui couldn’t avoid him and tried to bow, but his hands were on the ground and he couldn’t get up. He could only crawl toward Shi’s knees, wagging his tail and saying, “I am grateful for your past kindness. The other day when your son came, I was temporarily short of funds and couldn’t treat him well—this isn’t out of heartlessness; I will surely repay you in the future.” Shi shouted, “You wretched beast seeking death! Why are you barking?” Not hearing Shi’s words, Gui felt extremely frustrated. Suddenly, Shi came out again, so Gui smiled and apologized for his previous neglect.

Shi cursed, “This beast is causing trouble,” and kicked him away. Not daring to argue, Gui bowed his head and left. Unaware, he ended up in the kitchen, where Lady Yan, Shi’s mother, was sitting on a chair distributing meat soup. Smelling the meat, Gui jumped around for a while before kneeling and begging, “My master was impatient and couldn’t wait long, causing Lady Yan to leave early. Please don’t hold it against me! If there’s any extra meat, I would be grateful if you could give me a piece.” Lady Yan called a maid, “Drive this beast away.” Gui was terrified and ran to the backyard. There he found his wife, Sister Sun, their two sons, Gui Gao and Gui Qiao, and their daughter, Qiongzhi—all gathered together. Upon closer inspection, they were all in dog form. Looking back at himself, he also turned into a dog. Terrified, he lowered his head and asked his wife, “How did this happen?” His wife replied, “Don’t you remember what was said in the Water Moon Guanyin Temple? ‘If I can’t repay in this life, I vow to serve as a dog or horse in the next.’ Vows in the afterlife are the most binding. Now that I’ve failed to repay Lord Shi’s kindness, this is the consequence. Gui complained, “Back then, I found a hidden axe in the mulberry and jujube garden. I wanted to use it to repay Shi’s family’s debt, but I listened to your unvirtuous advice and kept it for myself. When his mother and son came to seek help, I wanted to give them generously, but you stopped me. All my suffering today is because of you.” His wife also cursed, “Men…”

“He won’t listen to his wife’s words. ‘It’s just my opinion as a woman; must you follow me in everything?’” The second son stepped forward to persuade him, “Let bygones be bygones; it only harms harmony. We’re extremely hungry; finding food is urgent.”

So the husband, wife, and sons went together to the back garden, walking around the fish pond. Seeing someone’s excrement, though they knew it was foul, they sniffed it out of hunger—its smell wasn’t bad at all. Seeing their wife and second son gather around it first, they drooled involuntarily. When they tried tasting it with their tongues, it tasted sweet, though they regretted there wasn’t more. Suddenly, a child came to the pond to relieve himself, so they stayed nearby. When the child left, what he had left was dry feces. They bit it with their mouths, only to accidentally drop it into the pond—feeling very sorry about it. Suddenly, they heard someone announce the master’s order: choose the fattest and strongest dogs to cook. They tied up their eldest son and took him away; he cried pitifully. Suddenly waking up in a sweat, they realized it was just a dream. They were still in their lodging, and dawn had already broken.

Gui Qian thought about the dream for a long time, stunned: “In the past I failed the Shi family; today, this man fails me—such is the way of things. He only knows how to blame others, not himself. Heaven used this dream to wake me up.” With a sigh, he threw his knife into the river, quickly packed up, and returned home to discuss with his wife how to repay the Shi family’s kindness.

What a strange dream! It awakened those who were ungrateful.

After having this strange dream, Jia Yuanwai became frantic and rushed home from the capital. He found the courtyard deserted, with no one around. Entering the main hall, he saw two memorial tablets on a altar on the left, clearly marked with the names of his eldest son Gui Gao and second son Gui Qiao. Shocked, he wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Wiping his eyes, he looked closely and cried, “Alas!” This alarmed the household, and three or four maids and wet nurses rushed out. Seeing their master, they said, “Good timing! The eldest lady is seriously ill and has been waiting for you!” Gui Qian was terrified and stumbled into the room, straight to his wife’s bed. His two daughters-in-law and daughter were all by her side, crying. Without even greeting him, they all clamored, “Come and take a look quickly!” Gui Qian cried out, “Eldest lady!” Suddenly, his wife turned her eyes upward on the pillow and stared at her husband, saying, “Why did you return only today, father?” Knowing it was delirious talk, Gui Qian quickly said, “Eldest lady, wake up! I’m here.” His daughters-in-law and daughter tried to comfort her, but the sick woman opened her eyes and wept, saying, “Father, I am your eldest son, Gui Gao. I was killed by Manager Wan Si. How bitter!” Gui Qian asked what had happened, and she continued to sob, “Let bygone matters be forgotten. The King of the Underworld says our family failed to repay the Shi family’s kindness. You once swore to serve them like a dog or horse. My brother and I, along with our mother, will go to the Shi family tomorrow to be reborn as dogs. Three dogs will be born—two males, which are my brother and I, and the female dog with a flesh tumor on its back is our mother. Since your lifespan hasn’t ended, you too will be reborn in the Shi family next August to fulfill that vow. Only my sister still has a chance to marry someone from the Shi family.”

Gui Jianyan’s words merged with his dreams, filling him with horror. Before he could ask further, he had already passed away. The whole family was in deep grief, and they sent people to arrange the funeral arrangements. Gui Jianyan questioned his daughter carefully about why his second son had died and why his mother was ill. The daughter replied, “Since Father went to the capital, my second brother spent his days gambling and indulging in vices, running out of money day by day. He secretly transferred the family lands to Wan Si’s household, receiving only half the usual price. A month ago, he died from scabies. My eldest brother, unaware of the land sales, went to the eastern estate to collect rent. There, he clashed with Wan Si’s men, was beaten severely, vomited blood immediately, and died a few days later. Mother, having heard that Father was being deceived in the capital, was constantly worried. Seeing her two sons die one after another, she was overwhelmed with sorrow. She refused to let Father return, which led to her suffering from fevers. Three days ago, sores appeared on her back, and she fell into a coma. We sought doctors to treat her, but none said it was possible to save her. Fortunately, Father returned and helped Mother pass away.” Hearing this, Gui Jianyan was heartbroken. He invited monks to perform nine days and nights of rituals to atone for sins and relieve suffering. The family members were exhausted over the days, and a fire broke out, burning down the hall and rooms, turning everything to ashes. All three coffins were reduced to dust, not even a piece of wood left. Gui Jianyan, his second daughter-in-law, and his daughter alone survived. They cried out to heaven and earth, calling upon their ancestors, crying until their eyes turned red and throats became hoarse, fainting several times. Truly, as the saying goes: “Those who once enjoyed wealth now face ruin together.”

As the saying goes, “A thin camel is stronger than an elephant.” Although Gui Jianyan was in dire straits now, he still had some remaining property. He sold it for some gold and silver. Considering his second daughter-in-law was young and unable to manage on her own, he sent her back to her family to remarry. He gave away or sold their children, taking only one couple with him, along with two wet nurses to care for his daughter. He hired a boat to Suzhou, intending to renew his relationship with Shi and also offer compensation. But knowing Shi was extremely poor, he surely wouldn’t marry again. Yet, where could he be? Once they arrived there, they would find out. When the boat reached Wuqu Fang River, Gui Jianyan got off first and went to Shi’s house. It looked brand new, even neater than before. Suspicious, he wondered whom the house had been sold to, as it was so well-maintained. He asked a neighbor, “Where is the old Shi now?” The neighbor replied, “Isn’t he in the big house?” Gui Jianyan asked further, “How has his family been these past years?” The neighbor told him that Shi’s mother had passed away and that the house had been sold. He also mentioned that Shi had now married a lady from the Zhi family, who was both virtuous and capable of managing the household. The couple got along well, and their family prospered more than when Shi’s father was alive. Hearing this, Gui Jianyan was both happy and surprised, ashamed and regretful. He wanted to give his daughter to Shi, but he already had a wife. If he didn’t give her, he couldn’t atone for his sins. If he went to pay his respects, he feared Shi might ignore him; if he didn’t go, he had no excuse to see him. After much hesitation, he decided to stay at a nearby inn and ask his acquaintance Li Meixuan to help him communicate, hoping to give his daughter to Shi as a concubine. Meixuan said, “This cannot be done hastily. You should first meet with that young man, and then discuss it slowly.”

The next day, Mr. Li and Gui Jianyan went to Shi’s house. Mr. Li explained Gui Jianyan’s difficult situation and expressed his desire to apologize and meet Shi. Shi still refused. Mr. Li persuaded him repeatedly. Considering Mr. Li was an elder friend, Shi finally agreed.

However, he reluctantly agreed to meet. Gui Qian was filled with shame, sweating profusely as he bowed his head in apology. Shi Huan asked, “What brings you here?” Li Weng replied on his behalf, “First, to pay respects to your late ancestors; second, to ask for your forgiveness.” Shi Huan sneered, “There’s no need for thanks, nor is it necessary to offer sacrifices!” Ji Weng said, “The ancients said, ‘When propriety is observed, there’s no need for argument.’ Old man Gui has come out of kindness to pay respects—do not refuse him.” Reluctantly, Shi Huan ordered his servant to open the ancestral hall, and Gui Qian prepared the sacrificial offerings. Just as he finished bowing, suddenly three large black dogs came out of the house, surrounding Gui Qian, biting at his clothes and seeming to speak. One of them indeed had a flesh tumor on it—it was the reincarnation of Sun Daisao’s wife; the other two were her sons. Recalling his previous dream and what his family had said while sick, Gui Qian realized that karmic retribution was indeed true, and he collapsed in tears. Shi Huan, unaware of the transformation, saw his grief and thought he was regretting his past mistakes. Moved by this, he ended the ceremony and spoke in a slightly gentler tone. Seeing that Shi Huan’s resentment had dissipated, Gui Qian brought up their previous engagement. Shi Huan immediately changed expression and went inside, never coming back out. Gui Qian returned to his residence and told his daughter about the strange incident with the three dogs; both father and daughter were devastated.

“If only I had known they’d all turn into dogs today! I regret not staying human from the start!”

The next day, Gui Qian took Li Weng to visit again, but Shi Huan pretended to be ill and wouldn’t appear. After four attempts, they still couldn’t meet. With no other options, Gui Qian invited Li Weng to his residence and recounted everything he had dreamed about in the capital, as well as what his family had said while sick. He then called his daughter out and said, “This girl was engaged to the Shi family since she had smallpox. Now it’s too late to regret it. But fate has already been decided—how dare I defy it? Besides, my wife and children are dead, and I have nowhere to go. If you would take my daughter as a servant or concubine, and I could work as a servant myself, doing hard labor all my life to avoid becoming a dog, I would be content!” As he spoke, tears streamed down his face.

Old Li sympathized with his situation and recounted it to Shi Huan, urging him earnestly. Shi Huan said, “In my poverty, I relied on my father-in-law for help; after marriage, I depended on my wife to manage household affairs. How could I betray them by taking another wife? Moreover, my mother died filled with resentment—she was my enemy. If I married her daughter, how could she be comforted in the afterlife? This matter must never be considered!” Old Li replied, “Your father-in-law comes from a family of scholars and gentlemen. You should explain the situation to him with sincerity; I believe he won’t object. Besides, this girl is virtuous and filial. Last day, upon hearing about the three great misfortunes in the study, she cried all night, wishing to atone for her mother’s sins. Once married, she will be an asset to your household. Your late father would surely be pleased to hear this. The ancients do not hold grudges over past wrongs, and no one should go to extremes. Sir, please discuss this with your father-in-law!” Just as Shi Huan was about to refuse again, Minister Zhi came out and said, “My son-in-law needn’t insist on refusal. I have already heard everything in detail. This is a wonderful arrangement, and my daughter is also willing to agree. Please ask Old Li to arrange the marriage.” Before he finished speaking, the Zhi family had already prepared gold, jewels, silk, and other gifts to send as betrothal gifts. Old Li arranged the marriage and chose a date for the wedding. Initially, Gui Sheng had bullied the Shi family and refused to agree to the marriage. Who would have thought that now, instead of being a wife, she would become a concubine? Though girls often have a hard fate, this was Gui Sheng’s retribution for his deceitful actions.

It’s truly like the saying: “Lord Zhou’s clever plans are unmatched in the world—he lost both his wife and his troops.”

That lovely girl had a gentle personality and won the Zhi family’s approval, so having one wife and one concubine made perfect sense. Gui Qian built three Buddha halls, prayed to Buddha day and night, and kept three dogs inside those halls. The Gui family’s daughter also burned incense every night to atone for her mother and brother’s sins. After more than a year, she suddenly dreamed that her mother and brother came to say, “Thanks to Buddha’s power, we have been freed from our sins.” When Gui Lao woke up early to report this, the three dogs died all at once that night. The Gui family’s daughter bought land to bury them, and to this day, there are three large families outside the gates of Hell. Gui Lao remained healthy for many years, thanks to the power of his prayers and repentance.

Meanwhile, Shi Huan, with his wife and concubine managing household affairs, focused on studying and passed the imperial examinations. Gui Lao accompanied him to the capital, where You Huaji, who served as an officer in the imperial army, was accused by censors and taken before the judicial authorities. On the way, he met Gui Qian, fell to his knees in shame, and confessed his past crimes of slander. His wife and children followed behind and begged Gui Lao for help. Moved by compassion, Gui Qian gave them all the gold he had. You Sheng thanked him, saying, “I can’t repay you in this life; I’ll repay you in the next life as a great horse.” Gui Lao sighed and left. Later, he heard that You Sheng suffered severe punishment and died in prison. Gui Qian became even more convinced that good and evil always bring corresponding rewards, and he remained committed to practicing Buddhism. That year, Shi Huan passed the exams and became an official. His wife and concubine followed him, each giving birth to two sons. Gui Qian lived out his days in the Shi family’s home. To this day, the Shi and Zhi families continue to thrive, becoming prominent clans in Eastern Wu. There’s a poem to prove it: “Gui Qian repented and remained safe; Shi Ji practiced kindness, and his descendants thrived.”

Do good deeds for the world; heaven will not favor those who are unfaithful!

Volume 26: Tang Yinyuan and His Fated Marriage

Three beats of drums and horns, the rooster crows at dawn; the sun rises high while the moon wanes.
Seasons cycle through autumn, winter, spring, and summer; people travel north, south, east, and west.
In the mirror, people’s faces gradually grow old; in the world, affairs vary greatly.
If one seeks ease in all this, just have a pot of rough wine and a simple meal.

These eight lines were written by a talented man from Wu region. His surname was Tang, his given name Yin, and his courtesy name Bohu. He was extremely intelligent, with knowledge that seemed boundless. He was skilled in calligraphy, painting, music, and could compose poems and essays effortlessly. He led a carefree life, indifferent to worldly concerns. Born in Suzhou, he lived in Wuchu. As a scholar, he wrote over ten poems in the style of “lianzhu,” each featuring references to flowers and the moon—such as “In the vast sky, shadows move as flowers greet the moon; in the deep courtyard, people return with the moon accompanying the flowers” and “Clouds part to reveal the beauty of the flowers under the moon; deep in night, the flowers rest while the moon shines bright.” These lines won him great praise. Cao Feng, the governor of the region, admired his talent greatly and recommended him specially for the imperial examinations. The chief examiner was Fang Zhi from Guo County, who disliked classical prose. Hearing that Tang Yin was proud of his talent and neglected proper conduct, he intended to disqualify him. But thanks to Cao Feng’s intervention, Tang Yin avoided punishment though he was still not allowed to take the exams. Only at the last moment, after much pleading from Cao Feng, was Tang Yin included among the candidates. He passed the exams and became the top scorer.

When Bohu went to the capital for the higher-level exams, his reputation as a writer grew even more. High-ranking officials all sought to be his friends, honored to meet him. Cheng, the examiner in charge, often sold exam questions illegally. Fearing criticism, he wanted someone highly talented to be ranked first to suppress opposition. He was delighted to find Tang Yin and promised him the first place. Bohu, being straightforward, boasted in front of others while drunk, “This year, I’m definitely going to be the top scorer.” Since everyone already knew about Cheng’s corruption and was jealous of Bohu’s talent, they spread rumors that the examiner was unfair. The officials reported this to the emperor. An imperial edict ordered Cheng not to grade the papers, and both he and Tang Yin were imprisoned and dismissed from their positions.

Upon returning home, Bohu gave up all thoughts of fame and pursued a life of leisure, indulging in poetry and wine. People called him Tang Yinyuan. Anyone who obtained one of his poems, writings, or paintings considered it a precious treasure. Among them, his paintings were especially prized. His emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness—were all reflected in his artwork.

Every painting he created was sought after at high prices. A quatrain from his “Poem of Aspirations” serves as proof: I do not refine elixirs, nor sit in meditation; I am neither a merchant nor a farmer.

In my leisure time, I paint to sell them—since it’s inconvenient to earn money through ordinary work.

They speak of the six districts of Suzhou: Medicine, Plates, Dishes, Yan, Lou, and Qi. Among these six, only the Yan district is the most prosperous, a hub of traffic by boat and road. Truly, it’s like having three thousand green sleeves surrounding it, with millions of gold coins flowing east and west. The markets open at dawn, and the dialects from distant places are all different.

One day, Tang Jieyuan was sitting on a boat by the Yan Gate when many learned scholars, drawn by his reputation, came to pay him respects and ask for his paintings and calligraphy. Jieyuan drew a few strokes with ink and wrote a few quatrains. Those who heard of him grew even more numerous. Growing impatient, he ordered his servant to bring a large cup of wine. As he leaned by the window drinking alone, he suddenly saw a painted boat passing by, its decorations of pearls and jewels dazzling. Inside was a young woman in green, with beautiful features and graceful figure; she stretched her head out of the boat, gazed at Jieyuan, and covered her mouth in laughter. After a while, the boat moved away, leaving Jieyuan deeply stirred. He asked the boatman, “Can you recognize that boat?” The boatman replied, “That boat belongs to the family of a scholar from Wuxi.” Jieyuan wanted to follow it, but when he called for a small boat, it didn’t arrive, leaving him feeling as if he had lost something.

Just as he was about to send his servant to search for the boat, another boat appeared in the city. Without caring whether it carried passengers or not, he waved his hand and called out loudly. The boat gradually approached, and someone stepped out from the cabin and called, “Bohu, where are you going? Why such haste?” When Jieyuan looked, it was none other than his good friend Wang Yayi. He said, “I need to urgently pay respects to a friend who has come from afar, that’s why I’m in such a hurry. Where is your boat heading?” Yayi replied, “I’ve gone to Maoshan with two relatives to offer incense; we won’t return for several days.” Jieyuan said, “I also want to go to Maoshan to offer incense. Since I have no one to go with, I must take this chance now.” Yayi said, “If you really want to go, hurry home and get ready. I’ll moor my boat here and wait for you.” Jieyuan replied, “I’ll just go then—why go back home?” Yayi said, “You still need to prepare incense and candles.” Jieyuan said, “I’ll buy them there!” Then he sent his servant back. Without bidding farewell to those who wanted his poems and paintings, he jumped onto the other boat, greeted his friend inside, and urged, “Set sail quickly!”

The boatman, knowing it was Tang Jieyuan, did not dare delay and immediately began rowing. After a short while, they saw the painted boat ahead. Jieyuan instructed the boat to follow the larger ship. The others, not understanding why, obeyed him. The next day, they arrived in Wuxi and saw the painted boat entering the city. Jieyuan said, “We’ve arrived here.”

“If we don’t get water from Hui Mountain, it will be too ordinary.” He told the boatman to take the boat to Hui Mountain to fetch water, as they had stopped here and would set off early the next day. “We’ll go for a short walk in the city before getting off the boat,” the boatman agreed to do so.

Jieyuan, along with Ya Yi and three or four others, went ashore and entered the city. Reaching a busy area, they left the crowd behind and went alone in search of that painting, but they didn’t recognize the path. They wandered around east and west without finding any trace of it. After walking for a while, they came out onto a main street, where suddenly they heard shouting. Jieyuan stopped to look, and saw about a dozen servants leading a heated sedan chair coming from the east, with numerous women following. As the saying goes, “Those destined to meet will find each other even across a thousand miles.” Among those women was the young woman in green clothes he had seen at the palace gates. Jieyuan was overjoyed and followed from afar until they reached a large gate. A maid came out to greet them, and they entered together. Asking people nearby, he learned it was Master Hua’s residence, and that the woman in the sedan chair was his wife. Having confirmed this, Jieyuan asked for directions to leave the city.

Just then, they returned from fetching water. Shortly after, Wang Ya Yi and the others arrived and asked, “Where did Jieyuan go? We’ve been searching for him anxiously.” Jieyuan replied, “I don’t know how, but we got separated in the crowd. I also didn’t know the way, and it took me half a day to get here.” He didn’t mention what had happened. At midnight, he suddenly started shouting wildly in his sleep, as if in great distress. Everyone was alarmed and woke him up to ask what was wrong.

Jieyuan said, “In my dream, I saw a divine man in golden armor hitting me with a golden staff, blaming me for not offering proper sacrifices. I knelt and begged, offering to fast for a month and go to the mountain alone to apologize.” When dawn came, he said, “You all should set sail and go ahead; I’ll return temporarily. I won’t be able to accompany you.” Ya Yi and the others believed him to be speaking the truth.

By dawn, a small boat arrived, saying it was heading to Suzhou. Jieyuan bid farewell to everyone and jumped onto the boat.

After traveling for a while, he claimed he had forgotten something and needed to turn back. He took out a few coins from his sleeve to reward the boatman and then hurriedly went ashore. He found an inn, bought old clothes and a tattered hat, changed into them to look like a poor man, and went to Master Hua’s pawnshop. Under humble words, he asked the manager, “My surname is Kang, my name is Xuan. I’m from Wu County. I’m quite good at writing and make a living running a small inn. Recently, my wife passed away, and I lost my inn. Now, with no means of support, I want to work as a scribe in a wealthy household. I wonder if your household might need someone like me. If you hire me, I won’t forget your kindness!” Then he took out a few lines of neatly written script from his sleeve for the manager to see. The manager saw that the handwriting was very neat and beautiful and replied, “I’ll take it to the master tonight and report it to him.”

“Grandfather, come back tomorrow to get your reply.” That evening, the supervisor indeed reported the words to the scholar. The scholar read them and praised, “Well written; it doesn’t resemble the handwriting of ordinary people. You may be summoned to see me tomorrow.”

Early the next morning, the top scorer arrived at the office. The supervisor introduced him to the scholar. Seeing his decent appearance, the scholar asked for his name and residence, then inquired, “Have you studied?” The top scorer replied, “I’ve taken the examinations several times as a student but failed to advance. Yet I still remember all the classics.” The scholar asked which classics. Although he had studied the Book of History, he actually knew all five classics. Knowing that the scholar studied the Book of Changes, he answered, “The Book of Changes.” The scholar was overjoyed and said, “I have plenty of writing materials in my study that can serve as companions for your studies.” He asked how much payment he desired. The top scorer said, “I dare not accept payment; I only ask for some clothes to wear. If the master is pleased later, giving me a good wife will suffice.” The scholar was even more delighted. He ordered the supervisor to find him some clothes to change into, renaming him Hua An. He was then taken to the study to meet the young master.

The young master instructed Hua An to copy texts. When there were inappropriate phrases in the texts, Hua An secretly made corrections. When the young master saw how well he had revised them, he was astonished and said, “So you understand literature and philosophy! When did you stop studying?” Hua An replied, “I’ve never stopped studying; it’s just that poverty forced me to do so.” The young master was very happy and gave him tasks to revise his own daily work. Hua An wrote tirelessly, showing great skill. When faced with difficult topics, he would explain them to the young master. If the young master couldn’t solve them, Hua An would write the entire piece for him.

The teacher, seeing the young master’s rapid progress, praised him to the master. The scholar asked to see his recent work. Shaking his head, he said, “This isn’t something a child could accomplish. If it wasn’t copied, someone must have helped.” He called the young master over and asked what happened. The young master didn’t dare hide it and said, “Hua An revised it.” The scholar was shocked. He called Hua An over and gave him a test. Without hesitation, Hua An wrote immediately and handed in his work. The scholar, seeing his graceful handwriting despite having one fewer finger on his left hand, and reading his elegant and precise prose, became even happier. He said, “If your skills are like this, your ancient writings must also be remarkable!” He kept Hua An in his private study as a scribe. All correspondence was entrusted to him, and he would write it flawlessly—never adding or removing a single word. His favor grew day by day, and he received greater rewards than others.

Hua An often bought wine, food, and shared them with the other boys in the study, bringing joy to everyone. Thus, he secretly visited the young woman in green clothes he had seen before—her name was Qiu Xiang, the lady’s personal attendant who never left her side. With no other ideas, as spring drew to an end, he composed a song titled “Yellow Mandarin Duck” to express his feelings: Wind and rain send spring away; orioles grieve; flowers fly in chaos; moss covers the courtyard; the red gates are closed. A lone lamp hangs low; a lonely bag holds few things; a solitary shadow, tears streaming. Thinking of the time to return, longing remains unfulfilled; spring dreams linger across the world.

One day, the scholar happened to visit Hua An’s room and saw the words written on the wall. Learning what Hua An had written, he highly praised it. He thought that living as a widower in his prime must be sad, and hadn’t expected him to have someone special in mind. Just then, the person in charge of finance in the office fell ill, so the scholar asked Hua An to take over his duties temporarily.

After more than a month, Hua An handled finances with great care and integrity, showing no negligence or selfishness. The scholar wanted to appoint him as the permanent manager, but worried that since he was alone without a family, it would be difficult to entrust him with such important responsibilities. So he discussed it with his wife and sent a matchmaker to find a wife for Hua An. Hua An gave the matchmaker three taels of silver, asking her to tell his wife, “Hua An is grateful for the lord and lady’s kindness in promoting me and providing me with a home; their kindness is like heaven and earth. But I fear that a girl from a common family might not be accustomed to the rules here. If it were possible to choose someone from the maids, that would be Hua An’s wish!” The matchmaker conveyed this to the lady. When the lady told the scholar, he said, “This would indeed be convenient for both parties. But when Hua An first arrived, he didn’t ask for a dowry, hoping instead for a good wife. Now that he has become a capable person in the household, if the wife chosen doesn’t meet his expectations, it’s hard to guarantee he won’t have other thoughts. It would be better to call him here and let him listen to the descriptions of the maids himself.” The lady agreed.

That evening, the lady sat in the main hall, with bright lamps shining. She had over twenty maids dressed up beautifully, arranged on both sides, looking like fairies surrounding the Queen Mother on the Jade Pool. She ordered Hua An to be called in. Hua An entered the hall and bowed to the lady. She said, “The lord says you handle things carefully and wants to reward you by giving you a wife. From these ordinary maids, choose whichever one you like.” She told the head maid to bring a lamp to help Hua An see them. Under the light of the lamp, Hua An looked around. Although all of them were beautiful, the girl in green was not among them. Hua An stood aside, silent. The lady said, “Head maid, go ask Hua An: ‘Which one do you like? We’ll give her to you.’” Hua An remained silent. Unhappy, the lady said, “Hua An, you have high standards. Don’t you like any of my maids?” Hua An replied, “Lady, I am grateful for your kindness in allowing me to choose my own wife. This is an immense favor I can never repay. But since not all of your personal maids are here yet, with your grace, I would like to see them all.” The lady laughed and said, “Do you doubt that I’m stingy? Very well! Call those four in the room so he can see them and satisfy his wish.” Those four were the attendants, named:

Chun Mei, Xia Qing, Qiu Xiang, Dong Rui. Chun Mei was in charge of jewelry and cosmetics. Xia Qing took care of incense burners and tea stoves. Qiu Xiang was responsible for seasonal clothing. Dong Rui handled wine, fruits, and food.

The head maid carried out the lady’s orders and called the four in. They hadn’t changed their clothes yet, still wearing their usual attire, with Qiu Xiang still in green. The head maid led them into the hall and made them stand behind the lady. In the room…

The wax lamp shed light as bright as day. Hua An had already seen her—her former beauty was still vivid before his eyes. Before he could speak, the old woman, understanding the situation, asked first, “Have you chosen someone?” Hua An knew it must be Qiu Xiang but dared not say so outright; instead, he pointed and said, “If only I could have this young lady, Chuan Qing, it would fulfill my life’s desires.” The lady glanced at Qiu Xiang and smiled faintly, then told Hua An to leave. Returning to the pawnshop, Hua An felt both joy and fear—joyful because the opportunity was excellent, fearful because he hadn’t yet taken action and worried it might not work out. Seeing the moon shining brightly as if it were day, he wandered alone and composed a poem:

I lie idle through the night, staying up late;
In the green shade, birds rest on the branches.

It’s hard to share my thoughts with others;
I turn to the clear sky and bright moon instead.

The next day, the lady spoke to the scholar. A clean room was prepared, complete with everything needed for a bed, curtains, and furnishings. The whole household, including servants, flattered him as the new manager, carrying things here and there, making the room look like a palace. On an auspicious day, the scholar and the lady officiated the marriage. Hua An and Qiu Xiang bowed together in the main hall, then were led by music to the new room where they married. It goes without saying that both were overjoyed.

In the middle of the night, Qiu Xiang said to Hua An, “You seem familiar to me. Where have we met before?” Hua An replied, “Young lady, think about it yourself.” A few days later, Qiu Xiang suddenly asked, “Was it you I saw on the boat by the Yamen Gate those days?” Hua An smiled and said, “Yes.” Qiu Xiang said, “If so, since you’re not of lowly origin, why did you settle for such a position?” Hua An replied, “I couldn’t forget the smile you gave me by the boat, so I reluctantly agreed to this situation.” Qiu Xiang said, “I once saw many young men surrounding you, offering fans and asking for your paintings—yet you ignored them all, drinking by the window as if no one else existed. I knew you were extraordinary, so I just smiled.”

Hua An said, “A woman who can recognize a nobleman among ordinary people is truly like Hong Fu or Lu Jue!” Qiu Xiang said, “I think we’ll meet again on South Gate Street.” Hua An laughed, “What sharp eyes! Indeed!” Qiu Xiang said, “Since you’re not of lowly origin, who exactly are you? Can you tell me your real name?” Hua An replied, “I am Tang, the top scholar from Suzhou. We’re destined to be together across three lifetimes. Now that we’ve revealed our true selves, I can’t stay long. I want to plan a way to spend our remaining years together—will you follow me?” Qiu Xiang said, “Since the top scholar is willing to humble himself for me, how could I dare not obey?” The next day, Hua An carefully kept detailed accounts of the pawnshop’s finances in one book, another book for the clothes, jewelry, and furnishings in the room, and yet another for gifts received from various people. All three sets of accounts were locked in a protective box, with the key hanging on it. He also wrote a poem on the wall:

I plan to visit Huayang Cave;
My whereabouts must be left for someone dear.

Wishing to soar high with Hong Fu, I dare not stoop to the Zhu family’s lowly ways.
With good deeds already done, who would laugh at me? Though I bow my head now, I still feel shame.
If the master asks for my true name, it’s simply “Lian Xuan”.

That night, they rented a small boat and moored it by the river. As dusk fell and all was quiet, they locked the door of their room, got into the boat with Qiu Xiang, and set off for Suzhou overnight.

At dawn, the servants saw that Hua An’s room door was locked and rushed to inform the scholar. The scholar ordered it to be opened; everything in the bedchamber remained untouched, and the accounts in the ledger were clearly recorded. Pondering over this, the scholar wondered what could be the reason. When he looked up, he suddenly saw eight lines of poetry on the wall. After reading them, he thought, “This person’s real name isn’t Kang Xuan.” Not knowing the reason why he had stayed in the mansion for so long, and considering that he wasn’t greedy for wealth if he were a bad person, he also wondered how Qiu Xiang could have agreed to run away with him. Now, where could the two of them be? “I can give up this maid; it’s not difficult. I just need to understand what really happened.” So he sent a servant to call the authorities and offered a reward, but no trace of Kang Xuan or Qiu Xiang was found anywhere. After more than a year, the scholar gave up on the matter.

One day, the scholar went to Suzhou to visit some guests. Passing by Yanmen, his servant saw a talented scholar sitting there reading. He resembled Hua An greatly, and he also had an extra finger on his left hand. The servant reported this to the scholar. The scholar didn’t believe it at first and told the servant to go and check carefully and find out the man’s name. The servant returned to the bookstore, and the scholar was talking with another fellow student, just about to leave. The clever servant followed them quietly. The two turned and headed toward Tongzi Gate by boat, accompanied by four or five servants. From behind, their appearance clearly matched Hua An’s, but the servant didn’t dare approach them directly. The servant returned to the bookstore and asked the owner who had been reading there. The owner said, “It was Tang Bohu, the top scholar. Today he went to a boat party hosted by Wen Hengshan.” The servant asked, “Was the person who went with him Wen Hengshan?” The owner replied, “That was Zhu Zhishan; they’re both famous scholars.” The servant noted all this down and reported back to Scholar Hua. The scholar was shocked and thought, “I’ve long heard that Tang Bohu is carefree and unrestrained. Could it be that Hua An is him? I’ll go visit him tomorrow to find out.”

The next day, he wrote a visiting card and went specifically to Wuqu Fang to pay respects to Tang Bohu. Tang Bohu hurriedly came out to greet him, and they sat down separately. The scholar examined him closely and indeed found him to resemble Hua An. When tea was served, he saw that the man’s hands were as white as snow, with an extra finger on his left hand. He wanted to ask questions but hesitated. After drinking tea, Tang Bohu invited the scholar to sit in his study. Still unsure, the scholar refused to leave easily, so they went to the study together. Seeing how neatly arranged everything was, the scholar marveled at it. After a short while...

When they arrived, the host and guest drank together for a long time. The scholar then said, “In your county, there is a man named Kang Xuan. Though he had no success in his studies, he is very well-versed in literature and principles. Do you know this man?” The top scholar nodded in agreement. The scholar continued, “Last year, this man worked as a scribe in my household. He changed his name to Hua An. First, he studied alongside children in a small classroom, then managed books in a student’s study, and later became the supervisor of a minor archive. Since he had no home, I allowed him to choose from my maids. He chose Qiu Xiang and married her. A few days later, both of them ran away, taking nothing with them from the house—no idea why. I sent people to your place to investigate, but they found no trace of him. Do you have any idea what might have happened?” The top scholar nodded again. Seeing that he was just giving vague answers, the scholar could no longer hold back and said, “This man resembles you quite closely in appearance, and he also has an extra finger on his left hand. I wonder why?” The top scholar nodded once more.

After a while, the top scholar got up briefly to go inside. The scholar flipped through the books on the table and found a piece of paper with eight lines of poetry written on it. When he read it, it was the same poem as the one on the wall. When the top scholar came back out, the scholar handed him the poem and asked, “These eight lines were written by Hua An, and the handwriting is also his. How did it end up here? There must be a reason. Please tell me something to resolve my doubts.” The top scholar replied, “Allow me a moment before I answer.” The scholar grew more puzzled and thought, “If the master would give some advice, I’ll stay seated. Otherwise, I’ll take my leave right away.”

The top scholar said, “It’s not difficult to explain. Please allow me to offer you a few more drinks.” The scholar drank a few more cups, and the top scholar kept urging him. By then, the scholar was quite drunk and said, “I’ve had enough wine; I can’t understand anymore. I’m tired and just want to resolve the doubts in my heart—nothing else.” The top scholar said, “Please have some plain rice.” After eating, tea was served. As evening approached, a boy came in with candles. The scholar grew even more suspicious and decided to leave. The top scholar said, “Please stay a little longer, sir; I’ll resolve your doubts.” He ordered the boy to lead the way with the candles, and the top scholar followed him to the back hall. The hall was brightly lit by lamps. From inside, someone called, “The bride is here!” Two maids appeared, serving a young woman who stepped forward gracefully, her face covered by a veil, so her delicate features were not visible. The scholar was startled and stepped back, but the top scholar grabbed his sleeve and said, “She’s just a concubine. As an elder in the household, you should greet her; there’s no need to avoid her.” The maids laid down a carpet, and the young woman bowed respectfully. The scholar quickly returned the bow. The top scholar held the scholar back, preventing him from returning the bow. After four bows, the scholar only managed to make two gestures of respect, feeling very uncomfortable.

After the bows, the top scholar led the young woman over to the scholar and asked with a smile, “Sir, please take a look. You said earlier that I resemble Hua An. Do you think this girl also resembles Qiu Xiang?” The scholar looked closely and laughed loudly, quickly bowing repeatedly and apologizing. The top scholar said, “It’s actually me who should apologize.” The two went back to the study. The top scholar ordered that the dishes be rearranged and more wine be poured. Over the wine, the scholar asked more detailed questions. The top scholar recounted in detail their encounter on the boat, and they both laughed heartily. The scholar said, “Today, I dare not treat you as a secretary anymore.”

“One must surely perform the rites of becoming a son-in-law.” Jieyuan replied, “If uncle and nephew were to go together, I’m afraid it would cost the father-in-law extra expenses.” The two laughed again. That night, they parted in great joy.

The scholar returned to his boat, placed the verses from his sleeve on the table, and pondered them over and over. “The first couplet says, ‘I intend to travel to Huayang Cave,’ indicating a pilgrimage to Maoshan. ‘My whereabouts are meant for someone special to discover,’ clearly meaning he met Qiuxiang along the way and stayed with her. The second couplet: ‘I wish to soar high with Hongfu; how could I bear to stay in the Zhu family?’ By submitting himself to them, he implied his intention to escape later. The third couplet: ‘Who will laugh at this accomplished deed? Though I submit now, I still feel ashamed.’ These two lines are straightforward. The final couplet: ‘If the host asks for my true name, it begins with the characters Kang and Xuan.’ The character ‘Kang’ is similar to the beginning of ‘Tang,’ and ‘Xuan’ is identical to the beginning of ‘Yin,’ hinting at the name ‘Tang Yin.’ I can’t figure it out further. Though his actions seem those of a lover obsessed with passion, he returned his clothes and valuables without taking anything, showing he was a man of virtue, not just a romantic scholar.” The scholar went home and told his wife about this incident. She was also shocked, so she prepared generous gifts, sent a daughter, and assigned the housekeeper to escort Jieyuan Tang’s family. From then on, the two families became relatives, maintaining frequent contact. To this day, people in Wu region tell this story as an example of romantic charm.

There is a song by Jieyuan Tang titled “Song of Burning Incense and Meditative Seating,” in which he describes his life’s thoughts, and it is particularly well-written. The song goes: “Burning incense, sitting in silence, I reflect on myself; chewing silently, I think within. What harmful schemes lie in my heart? What deceitful words come from my mouth? If one can keep one’s words in line with one’s heart, filial piety, fraternal duty, loyalty, and honesty begin there. Other minor virtues may vary, but how can they refine my conduct? With flowers in my hair and a cup in my hand, after listening to the song, I watch the dancers. Food and pleasure are human instincts, as the ancients said, yet some consider them shameful. But when one’s heart and words deceive others, how unjust is that? Hiding evil deeds behind a facade brings no benefit—it’s merely futile. Please sit and listen to what I say: All humans must die. Only those who face Yama without shame are truly noble men.”

Volume 27: The Fake Immortal Causes a Ruckus at Huaguang Temple

Those who wish to become immortals, let me advise the wise: Eternal life is just a myth. Avoid excessive lustful desires to keep your body healthy; having an honest heart makes you an immortal.

It is said that during the Song dynasty, there was a Baoshan Temple by Pujie Bridge in Hangzhou, built during the Jiatai era. It was also known as Huaguang Temple, dedicated to worshipping the Five Manifest Deities. Who were these Five Manifest Deities?

The First Manifest Deity was King of Wisdom, Brightness, Piety, Early Success, Benevolence, and Good Fortune.

The Second Manifest Deity was King of Clarity, Brightness, Righteousness, Longevity, Justice, Favor, and Smoothness.

The Third Manifest Deity was King of Integrity, Brightness, Wisdom, Fertility, Insight, and Response.

The Fourth Manifest Deity was King of Directness, Brightness, Love, Drought, Affection, Favor, and Generosity.

The Fifth Manifest Deity was King of Virtue, Brightness, Loyalty, Faith, Favor, and Joy.

These Five Manifest Deities were considered the assistants of the five elements and were said to possess great spiritual power. Some claimed that the Five Manifest Deities were equivalent to the Five Powers, but this was a misconception. At the beginning of the Shaoding era, Prime Minister Zheng Qingzhi renovated the temple, adding magnificent buildings and chambers, making it extremely splendid. However, during the Yuan dynasty, wars destroyed the temple, the monks scattered, the buildings collapsed, and the local residents also declined. At the beginning of the Zhengjing era, monks raised funds to repair the temple, and its religious activities were revived once again.

Speaking of Wei, a scholar from this region, he lived near the temple. His cousin also practiced Taoism and studied diligently in a small building next to the temple. Wei was only sixteen years old, handsome and graceful, with a gentle nature. He spoke softly, as if in a daze. Whenever he attended literary gatherings, his peers would tease him, calling him “Madam Wei,” which made him blush with shame. From then on, he avoided guests and spent his time studying upstairs. Only his cousin saw him day and night.

One day, his cousin returned home due to his mother’s illness, leaving Wei alone in the building studying. Around the second watch, he suddenly heard someone knocking at the door. Thinking it was his cousin, he opened the door to find an elderly man dressed in a yellow robe with blue sleeves, wearing fine silk clothes and a beautiful beard. A pleasant fragrance emanated from him, giving him an otherworldly appearance. Behind him was a young monk, also handsome, carrying a red box.

The elder man introduced himself as Lü Dongbin of Pure Yang, who was traveling throughout the world and happened to pass by this place. Hearing the sound of Wei’s clear reading voice and seeing his eagerness to learn, he believed that Wei would surely succeed in his studies and even attain immortality. Saying that they were connected in past lives, he felt it was his duty to help Wei. Knowing that Wei was living alone, he came specially to visit. Wei was both surprised and delighted. He quickly bowed and invited Lü Dongbin to sit facing south, while he sat beside him. Lü Dongbin ordered the young monk to bring the box and place it on the table. Inside were various exotic fruits and delicacies, all emitting a delightful aroma. The cups used were made of purple gold, and the pots were made of white jade.

The pot was less than three inches in diameter, yet it never ran out of wine. The wine was as bright as jade, and its taste was like that of fine liquor. The hermit said, “This is immortal food and wine, meant only for those of our kind. Only those who are fated to do so may enjoy it.” At that moment, Wei Sheng felt as if he were already in the lands of the ten continents and three islands. While drinking, the hermit said, “Tonight we have a wonderful encounter; a poem must be written.” Wei Sheng wanted to see the hermit’s poetic talent, so he placed the four essential writing tools on the table. Without hesitation, the hermit composed four poems:

Before the Yellow Crane Tower, spiritual energy rises;
At the peach blossom gathering, mysterious beauty abides.
With a sword across the purple sea, autumn light shines bright;
Each night, I ride the clouds to Jade Capital.

One:
Lofty buildings reach the clouds; I sleep in a realm of immortality.
In one sleep, I don’t know if heaven and earth have aged;
When I wake, again I see how much has changed.

Two:
A single golden pill enables miraculous transformation;
Its profound mysteries are known to few.
One night, suddenly I hear music from the heavens—
It must be an immortal riding a crane.

Three:
The sword’s aura fills the sky; the moon floats above the sea;
In an instant, I travel throughout the divine lands.
Having experienced three thousand cycles of peach blossoms,
I ignore the nine hundred autumns of the human world.

Four:

The handwriting was graceful and dynamic, and Wei Sheng praised it endlessly. The hermit asked, “You are extremely intelligent. Please compose a poem of your own to show how quickly or slowly your path to immortality will unfold.” Wei Sheng also wrote two poems:

Before the twelve peaks, jade trees stand in rows;
How wonderful it would be to climb the celestial ladder in this life.
I rid myself of worldly dust and impurities;
In the past, I wore rosy robes and handled jade keys.

One:
The moonlight in the sky is so serene; it surpasses even the beauty of the Floating Chanting Pavilion.
On quiet nights, the jade flute sounds amidst the blue sky;
I follow the crane straight to the divine lands.

Two:

After reading them, the hermit looked at Wei Sheng with a smile and said, “You have the ambition to reach the divine lands—truly an heir to immortality. In ancient times, Huo Qubing, the great general of the Western Han Dynasty, prayed in the temple of the divine being. The being appeared in human form and wished to become his wife. Huo Qubing became furious and left. Later, when he was seriously ill, he sent people to plead with the divine being for help. The being said, ‘General Huo is weakly built; I wish to use my power to…’”

Nourish the yin essence and vital energy. General Huo failed to understand, mistaking it for lust, and thus suffered its consequences. The illness of today is beyond cure.’ Qubing died soon after. The methods used by immortals to save people are not fixed; they are not something ordinary people can know. Only those destined for it can believe in them without doubt. I will give you another poem.” The poem reads:

Together we spend this night in the jade tower,
Before the sweet lamp, let us stay awhile.
Crystal-clear liquid is poured out, its reflection shimmering;
Poems composed amidst the clouds above.

Let us put aside all worldly concerns for now,
And use this immortal bond to cultivate in heaven.
From now on, news from Yueyang will come swiftly,
While white clouds drift slowly across the sky.

Wei Sheng understood the poem’s meaning and replied with his own quatrain:

The immortal realm is pure and free from worldly desires;
How could an ordinary heart mix with a true spiritual one?
There are no trees in the back garden to plant orchids;
I can only envy those by the embankments in Sui’s time.

After exchanging poems, their affection grew even stronger. The immortal ordered his servant to leave, saying, “I will purify myself tonight.” He then said to Wei Sheng, “If you can spend ten days and nights with me, I will ensure your spirit and energy are fully restored, allowing you to write ten thousand words a day.” Wei Sheng believed him. When drunk, the immortal went to sleep first. Wei Sheng slept in his clothes beside him. The immortal said, “When ordinary people lie close together, their spirit and energy can flow freely. But if we sleep in our clothes, I won’t be able to benefit you.” So he took Wei Sheng in his arms, undressed him, and lay down beside him. The immortal gently caressed him, gradually progressing further. Wei Sheng wanted to steal his immortal energy but endured without complaining. At dawn, the immortal said to Wei Sheng, “The secrets of immortality must not be revealed. Before daybreak, I must part with you for now; we’ll meet again at night.” He pushed open the window and jumped out, disappearing without a trace. Wei Sheng was shocked, convinced it was truly an immortal. He examined the gold and jade items from the night before—they were all genuine, exquisitely crafted and lovely. The fragrance lingered between the pillows and bedding. Wei Sheng pondered endlessly. That night, the immortal came again to sleep with him. They spent over ten nights together, their affection growing deeper, and neither wanted to part.

One evening, while drinking with Wei Sheng, the immortal said, “Our secret was discovered yesterday when He Xiangu returned from her meeting. She was furious and wanted to report it to the Jade Emperor, causing trouble for both of us. I begged her repeatedly before she calmed down. She said you’re very handsome and wants to see you. When we meet at night, be careful and try to please her; I’ll also do my part. If things go well, she might agree. If we become one, this matter will never be exposed, and you’ll gain some of her profound yin energy as well.” Hearing this, Wei Sheng was overjoyed. He quickly prepared some fine wine and fruits, waiting until evening. He was glad that these days he hadn’t been practicing Taoism, leaving only Wei Sheng upstairs.

When it grew deeper and quieter, Wei Sheng lit a fragrant incense burner, laid out wine and fruits, put on some splendid clothes, and dressed himself neatly in anticipation of the two immortals. Soon, Dongbin led He Xiangu straight up to the floor above. Looking at this immortal maiden, her beauty was gentle yet dazzling, her radiance striking. Upon seeing her, Wei Sheng’s spirit was captivated, his heart filled with excitement. Uncontrollably, he knelt before her. Seeing that Wei Sheng was indeed handsome, He Xiangu was truly delighted, though she pretended to be annoyed and said, “You two have done well! Disrupting the rules, failing to uphold the standards of immortals—how is this in line with what scholars should do?” Yet there was joy in her tone. Wei Sheng kowtowed and begged for forgiveness, and Dongbin also earnestly pleaded with her. The immortal maiden said, “Since you two acknowledge your fault, I’ll forgive you this time.” With that, she prepared to leave. Wei Sheng insisted repeatedly, saying, “These humble worldly offerings are just a token of my gratitude.” Dongbin also urged her, saying, “Just have a few drinks as a gesture of goodwill; there’s no need to refuse. If you leave, it will offend the spirits of the immortals.” Unable to refuse further, she reluctantly sat down. They took turns drinking. Dongbin then said to the immortal maiden, “Wei Sheng is talented in poetry; we must compose a poem for tonight’s joy.” She replied, “If that’s the case, let the senior brothers start first.” Dongbin didn’t hesitate: “Every day by the grotto, I long for you, my beloved; for now, let us enjoy this moment together as immortals.” “Tonight, my joy grows because of a true friend; a few golden lotuses reflect in the green pond.” “I’m fortunate to encounter warmth from jade pendants beyond the mundane world; even in the human realm, one can possess the grace of a phoenix.” “Wei Sheng, please don’t mistake this for a fairyland affair; tonight, we must play the zither and strings.” When the immortal maiden and Dongbin read the poems, they were furious and said, “How dare you two tease me?” Wei Sheng hurriedly kowtowed in apology. Dongbin advised, “In heaven and on earth, emotions are the same. The Lady of Luo comforted the lonely, the goddess traveled among the clouds—these are all stories of our immortal family. It’s already difficult to find talented people and beautiful women in the world. Moreover, Wei Sheng already has an immortal fate; since we’re gathered as immortals, we’re all one family—why must we separate and act like ordinary mortals?” After saying this, the immortal maiden lowered her head and remained silent, fiddling with her skirt. Dongbin said, “Since an agreement has been reached, Wei Sheng may kowtow to thank the immortal maiden for her kindness.” Wei Sheng quickly bowed. The immortal maiden smiled, helped him up, and they resumed drinking, enjoying themselves until late. That night, the three of them slept together. Wei Sheng approached the immortal maiden first, followed by Dongbin. Through the changes of light and darkness, they enjoyed themselves all night. Then the immortal maiden said, “Our meeting of the three of us is truly a remarkable fate; let’s compose a poem together on the pillow.” She began first: “All around is brilliance and mist; despite being heartless, I’m drawn by affection.” “In spring, she dances in the willow wind; after rain, she tosses in the waves among the flowers.” “Wei Sheng, believe that an immortal fate never fails; don’t dismiss such good fortune.” “Her fragrance fades, dreams linger across three thousand realms; the yellow crane rests, sleeping through the night.” At dawn, the two immortals got up, ready to leave. Wei Sheng was reluctant and pleaded repeatedly to meet again that night. The immortal maiden said shyly, “If you’re careful and don’t tell anyone, I’ll come regularly.” From then on, she came every night. Sometimes the two immortals came together, sometimes just one of them. Although Wei Sheng’s cousin also lived in the study building, just across the wall, they moved in and out through the windows without being seen.

Thus passed more than half a year. Wei Sheng gradually became pale and thin, his skin fading, his appetite decreasing day by day. At night, he felt energetic, but during the day he was tired and wanted nothing but to lie down. Seeing his condition, Wei Sheng asked if he was sick.

Therefore, Wei Shengjian refused to confess. Fu Sheng had no choice but to inform his father. Lord Wei went upstairs to see his son and was shocked. He then brought a mirror and asked his son to look at himself. Seeing his own disfigured appearance, Wei Sheng was also terrified. Lord Wei advised his son to go home and recover, but the son refused. They then hired a doctor to take his pulse and prescribe medicine for treatment. That night, the two immortals came again. Wei Sheng described how pale and thin he looked, and his father wanted to move him back home. The immortal said, “When an ordinary person becomes an immortal and undergoes a transformation of body and soul, their mundane flesh must first be completely eliminated before they can be reborn as immortals. This is beyond what ordinary eyes can perceive.” From then on, Wei Sheng had no doubts anymore and even refused to take the medicine.

A few days passed, and there was barely any sign of life. Lord Wei became anxious and brought his bedding upstairs to stay with his son overnight.

At midnight, the son began talking nonsense in bed. Lord Wei called out to him but couldn’t wake him; even the Taoist priest in the next room got up to check. They saw Wei Sheng saying, “Why are you afraid, my two masters? Don’t go!” He stretched out his hand and grabbed someone, but it was actually his father. Lord Wei cried and said, “My son! Your illness is life-threatening, yet you still refuse to tell the truth! Who are those two masters? They must be evil spirits.” Wei Sheng replied, “They are two immortals who have come to save me; they’re not evil.” Seeing his son in such a critical condition, Lord Wei, regardless of his son’s wishes, carried him back home in a small sedan chair for rest. The son said, “The immortals left me a purple-gold cup and a white-jade pot in the bookcase—please check them for me.” When they opened the cabinet, it turned out that the so-called purple-gold and white jade were actually made of yellow and white clay. Lord Wei said, “My son, since it’s clearly not immortals, then they must be evil spirits!” At that moment, Wei Sheng, feeling panicked, finally recounted everything about his first encounter with Chunyang in the temple and later his encounter with the immortal maiden. Lord Wei was shocked. He immediately ordered his wife to prepare a clean room for his son to recover in, while he went out to seek help from a skilled Taoist priest.

After walking for a short distance, they happened to meet a Taoist priest who was carrying a ritual ring and came over to greet them. Lord Wei quickly bowed in greeting and asked, “Where are you coming from, master?” The priest replied, “I am a disciple of Master Zhang Sanfeng from Wudang Mountain in Huguang. My surname is Pei, and my religious name is Shouzheng. I possess the art of the Five Thunder Techniques to save people throughout the world. Seeing an evil aura in your residence, I came to inquire.”

Hearing that the priest seemed knowledgeable, Lord Wei hurriedly invited him inside to sit in the guest room. After serving tea, he told Priest Pei in detail about his son’s condition. Priest Pei asked, “Where is your son now?” Lord Wei then led Priest Pei to the room where Wei Sheng was. As soon as Priest Pei saw Wei Sheng, he said to Lord Wei, “Your son has been bewitched by two male and female demons. If nothing is done in another ten days, he will die.” Hearing this, Lord Wei quickly knelt down and pleaded, “I earnestly beg for your mercy to save my child. I will never forget this!” Priest Pei said, “I will capture those demons tonight.” Lord Wei replied, “That’s great. Is there anything needed from me?”

“The master says I may go and handle it,” he replied. Pei Shouzheng said, “We need a set of three kinds of sacrificed animals along with wine and fruits, five-thunder paper, horses, incense and candles, as well as cinnabar-colored paper.” After giving these instructions, he added, “Don’t leave for now; come back tonight.”

Duke Wei saw Pei off at the door and urged him, “I look forward to your arrival tonight.” Master Pei replied, “No need to say more. As usual, I’ll go to the street again, waving my ritual ring as I leave.” Duke Wei hurriedly bought all the necessary items, getting everything ready, waiting only for Master Pei to come and exorcise the ghost.

When night fell, Master Pei arrived. Duke Wei welcomed him and said, “Everything is ready. But where should we place it?”

Pei replied, “Place it in your son’s room.” He carried in two tables, set down the sacrificed animals and offerings, and lit incense. Master Pei put on his ritual crown, donned his ceremonial robes, took up his sword, began walking in a sacred pattern, reciting mantras, and writing talismans with cinnabar. Just as he was about to burn the talismans, he found they were all wet and could not be burned. Master Pei cursed, “You wretched creature! Don’t be rude!” He raised his sword in the air to strike. The sword was caught by the demon, which hung it mid-air in the room, preventing it from moving. Master Pei became panicked and tried every magic trick he knew, but none worked. Duke Wei asked, “Where has the ritual crown on Master’s head gone?” Pei replied, “I never took it off—how could it disappear? It must be some trick again!” He quickly sent someone to look, and they found a urine bucket outside the door, with the crown floating on its surface. When it was retrieved, it was rotten and smelly—useless to wear on the head. Master Pei said, “This demon’s evil energy is too strong; my magic isn’t enough to counter it. You’d better think of another plan.”

Although troubled, Duke Wei had no choice but to collect the offerings and invited Master Pei to the main hall to distribute blessings. They ate and drank together. As night deepened, he stayed at Duke Wei’s house to rest. Neither of them was happy. Master Pei also felt frustrated and went to a side room to change clothes and sleep. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he saw three or four men in yellow uniforms carrying a stone slab weighing forty or fifty pounds, pressing it down on him, saying, “Thank you, evil monk, for your wonderful magic!” Pressed down and unable to move or breathe, Master Pei panicked and cried out, “There are ghosts! Save me! Save me!” It turned out that the people in Duke Wei’s household were still finishing their preparations and hadn’t gone to bed yet. Hearing Master Pei’s cries, Duke Wei and his family brought lamps and entered the room. They saw Master Pei trapped under a green stone slab, unable to move. A few people quickly lifted the slab and rescued him. They gave him ginger soup to drink. By dawn, Master Pei had awakened. After washing up and having some breakfast, he bid farewell to Duke Wei and left. Duke Wei and his wife were so distressed that their tears wouldn’t stop, but there was nothing they could do.

The next day, my cousin Fu Daoqin came to see Wei Sheng. Lord Wei and Fu Sheng recounted in detail the incident of the ghost encountered last night by Pei Daozhuo. “What should we do?” Fu Sheng said, “The Huaguang Bodhisattva in this temple is extremely powerful and benevolent. It was probably possessed by an evil spirit inside the temple. Let’s prepare some offerings and burn a prayer document; surely the power of the gods will overcome evil, and perhaps Wei Sheng can be saved.” Fu Sheng discussed this with his fellow members, including Li Lin. All of them cared deeply for Wei Sheng and rushed to gather offerings—incense, candles, paper horses, wine, and fruits—placing them in front of the altar before offering them to Lord Wei. Then they read out the prayer document: “The righteous energy of the gods pervades mountains and rivers; good and evil are clearly discerned. Their might spreads everywhere, bringing both blessings and misfortunes impartially. Now, Wei Sheng, who studies in this temple, has been afflicted by an evil spirit. Men and women mingle indiscriminately, indulging in pleasure together day and night. They disregard moral boundaries and engage in illicit relations without any restraint. First, they pretended to be pure immortals but continued their wicked ways; later, they relied on the names of He Xiangu and others to indulge in lustful behavior. As a result, Wei Sheng’s body and spirit are in turmoil, with no hope of recovery. His mind is distracted, and he has lost the path to longevity. Whether it’s strange beasts or flower spirits, they are sent to eliminate them; whether it’s mountain spirits or water demons, they are restrained by divine laws. May the balance of yin and yang be restored, so that all may live in peace. We pray only to the gods!” Li Lin and the others bowed while reading the prayer.

After finishing the prayer, they burned the paper offerings and scattered blessings throughout the temple. The group then discussed the stories of Lu Dongbin and He Xiangu. Li Lin said, “Zhongqingxian has built a new Pure Yang Hermitage. Let’s go there together tomorrow morning to offer incense and report this matter. If Lu Dongbin truly has spiritual power, he will surely be enraged.” Everyone agreed. The next day, ten of them gathered without prior arrangement and went to pay their respects to the Pure Yang Patriarch.

They then returned to Lord Wei. From that night onward, Wei Sheng gradually felt better, though his original spirit could not recover immediately. Lord Wei was somewhat pleased.

A few days later, he prepared sacrifices of three kinds of livestock and went to the Huaguang Temple—to fulfill his vows and seek further blessings. When his friends heard about this, they all came to help him worship the gods. After the worship, as they burned the paper offerings, they saw Lord Wei close his eyes tightly, walk over to the altar, sit down firmly, and declare, “I am Wu Xianlingguan! I saved your son’s life!” Everyone realized that the Huaguang Bodhisattva had taken possession of him and came to pay their respects, asking, “What kind of evil spirit afflicted Wei Sheng? How did you rescue him? When will he fully recover?” Lord Wei continued, “These two evil spirits were turtle spirits who had been causing trouble for years—one male and one female—habitually deceiving young men and women. After discovering their true nature, I sent my subordinates to capture them. But those two spirits were extremely powerful and managed to defeat them. I went personally to capture them, yet they still pretended to be Lu Dongbin and He Xiangu, resisting me. After a fierce battle with no clear winner, it happened that Lu Dongbin and He Xiangu also learned of this and reported it to the Jade Emperor, who ordered divine generals and heavenly troops to descend to Earth. With the real immortals present, the impostors could no longer resist. The two evil spirits fled to the Wujiang River and Mengzi River.”

The deity used a flaming wheel to set things on fire and continued the battle. Mr. Dongbin sliced off the male turtle spirit with his flying sword, while the female one was driven straight into the icy depths of the North Sea, where she suffered forever without any chance of release. My deity, along with Dongbin and the fairy lady, reported this to the Emperor. The Emperor decided to punish your son for his mistakes. My deity pleaded, “He is just a young scholar who was deceived for a moment. His parents and friends all repent and beg for mercy. Besides, he can achieve fame and success in life, so he should be forgiven.” Only then did the Emperor agree to exempt him from punishment. Look at my robe sleeves—they’re torn from the battle. The shell of that male turtle spirit was split by my deity and buried under the peach tree in the back garden. If you want your son to recover quickly, take this shell, boil it to make an ointment, and give it to him mixed with wine; he will recover immediately.” After saying this, Duke Wei fell to the ground.

People helped him up and woke him. When they asked him what had happened, Duke Wei had no idea that a bodhisattva had possessed him. They explained everything in detail to him. Duke Wei was astonished. He checked his robe sleeves in the deity’s tent and indeed found them torn. He went to the peach tree in the back garden, dug there, and found a turtle shell about three feet long, still covered in flesh and blood. Duke Wei took it home, boiled it to make an ointment, mixed it with wine, and gave it to Wei Sheng to drink—three doses at a time.

By the time the ointment was used up, his illness was completely cured. So the father and son went to Huaguang Temple to offer sacrifices and exchange robes with the deity. They also went to Chunyang Hermitage to burn incense.

Later, Wei passed the imperial examinations and achieved success. There’s a poem to prove it:

Truth and falsehood originate from the heart; how could immortals indulge in evil desires?
If the human heart isn’t corrupted by evil desires, Penglai can be found right before one’s eyes.

Volume 28: Bai Niang Permanently Guards Leifeng Tower

Mountains beyond mountains, towers beyond towers; when will the songs and dances by West Lake cease?
The warm breeze intoxicates visitors, making them think Hangzhou is Bianzhou.

Speaking of the scenery of West Lake, its landscapes are truly beautiful. During the Xianhe era of the Jin Dynasty, the waters surged violently and flowed into Ximen. Suddenly, a golden bull appeared in the water. After the waters receded, the bull followed people to Beishan, and its whereabouts were unknown. This caused great excitement among the people of Hangzhou, who believed it was a divine manifestation. Thus, a temple was built called Jinniu Temple. Ximen is today’s Yongjin Gate, where another temple was erected, named General Jinhua. At that time, there was a Buddhist monk named Hunshouluo who traveled to Wulin Prefecture to admire the mountain scenery. He said, “There’s a small peak in front of Lingyan Mountain that suddenly disappears—it turns out it has flown here.” People didn’t believe him at first. The monk said, “I remember the peak in front of Lingyan Mountain is called Linglu Peak. There’s a white ape in that cave; I’ll prove it by calling it out.” Sure enough, a white ape appeared. In front of the mountain, there’s a pavilion now called Lengquan Pavilion. There’s also a solitary island in West Lake.

In ancient times, Mr. Lin Hejing once lived in seclusion on this mountain. He had people carry mud and stones to build a path that connected to Duanqiao in the east and Qixia Ling in the west, hence it was called Gushan Road. During the Tang Dynasty, Governor Bai Letian built another path that led from Cuiping Mountain in the east to Qixia Ling in the north; it was called Baigong Di. This path was frequently washed away by floods, and it had to be repaired using government funds several times. Later, during the Song Dynasty, Su Dongpo became the governor. Seeing that these two paths were damaged by water, he purchased wood and stones, hired workers, and built them firmly. The six bridges had red railings, and peach and willow trees were planted along the embankments. In spring, the scene was truly beautiful, worthy of being painted. Thus, people later referred to it as Sugong Di. Along Gushan Road, two stone bridges were built to divert the water flow—the one on the east side was called Duanqiao, and the one on the west side was called Xining Bridge. Truly, “Three hundred temples hide among the misty mountains, while two peaks are veiled by clouds.”

The speaker only talked about the beauty of West Lake and its ancient relics. Today, I’ll tell the story of a handsome young man who, while visiting West Lake, encountered two women, causing quite a stir in the streets and alleys of several cities. It’s enough to inspire a talented writer to compile it into a romantic tale. But who was this young man? What kind of women did he meet? What events ensued?

“There’s a poem to prove it: During Qingming Festival, rain falls heavily; travelers on the road are heartbroken. Where can I find an inn? A shepherd boy points afar to Apricot Flower Village.”

It is said that during Emperor Gaozong of Song’s exile to the south, in the Shaoxing era, in Heizhu Alley of Lin’an Prefecture in Hangzhou, there lived a civil official named Li Ren. He served as an official in charge of supplies for the Nanlang Pavilion and also handled financial matters for Grand Marshal Shao. His brother, Xu Xuan, was the youngest son. Their father had run a herbal medicine shop. After losing his parents at a young age, Xu Xuan worked as the manager of the herbal medicine shop at his uncle Li Jiangshi’s place. He was twenty-two years old at the time. The shop was located at the entrance of Guanxiang Alley. One day, while Xu Xuan was working in the shop, a monk came to the door and asked, “I am a monk from Baoshu Ta Temple. I delivered buns and scrolls to your house a few days ago. As Qingming Festival approaches, we are performing rituals to honor our ancestors. I hope young master will come to the temple to burn incense—do not be late!” Xu Xuan replied, “I certainly will go.”

The monk left after saying goodbye. That evening, Xu Xuan returned to his sister’s house. Since Xu Xuan had no family of his own, he lived with his sister. That night, he told her, “Today, the monk from Baoshu Ta Temple asked me to burn incense to honor our ancestors. I need to go there tomorrow.” The next day, he bought paper horses, candles, prayer flags, money, and other items. After eating, he changed into new shoes, socks, and clothes, wrapped up the offerings in a bundle, and headed to Li Jiangshi’s house at the entrance of Guanxiang Alley. When Li Jiangshi saw him, he asked where Xu Xuan was going. Xu Xuan replied, “I’m going to Baoshu Ta Temple to burn incense and honor our ancestors. Please give me one day off.” Li Jiangshi said, “Go then, and come back soon.”

Xu Xuan left the shop and entered Shouanfang and Huashi Street. He crossed Jingting Bridge and headed toward Qinghe Street, then to Tietang Gate. After crossing Shihan Bridge and passing by the Release-Beast Stele, he went to Baoshu Pagoda Temple. There he found a monk who brought buns; Xu Xuan expressed his repentance, burned incense, and went to the Buddha hall to watch the monks chant scriptures. After finishing his meal, he bid farewell to the monk and strolled around the temple. He crossed Xining Bridge, Gushan Road, and Sisheng Temple, then went to visit Lin Hejing’s grave before wandering around Liuyi Spring. Unexpectedly, clouds gathered in the northwest while fog covered the southeast, and a light drizzle began, gradually intensifying. It was the Qingming Festival, and naturally, the weather responded by bringing a rain of flowers. The rain continued non-stop. Seeing the ground wet, Xu Xuan took off his new shoes and socks and left Sisheng Temple to look for a boat, but none were in sight. Just when he didn’t know what to do, he saw an old man rowing a boat over. Xu Xuan was delighted, recognizing it as Old Zhang. He called out, “Old Zhang, let me ride with you!” Hearing the call, the old man recognized him as Xu Xiaoyi and rowed the boat closer to the shore. He said, “Official Xiaoyi, it’s raining—where do you want to disembark?” Xu Xuan replied, “At Yongjin Gate.” The old man helped Xu Xuan get off the boat and rowed it closer to Fengle Tower.

Before they had gone more than ten zhang across the water, someone on the shore called out, “Sir, let me ride with you!” Xu Xuan looked and saw a woman wearing a mourning headpiece with plain combs tucked beside it. She wore a white silk shirt and a thin linen skirt. Under her arm was a maid, and she herself was dressed in green, with horns on her head, two large red ribbons, and two pieces of jewelry. She held a bag and wanted to ride on the boat. Old Zhang told Xiaoyi, “The wind is strong—row faster!” So he took her aboard. Xu Xuan said, “Tell her to come down.” The boy obeyed and pulled the boat closer to the shore. The woman and her maid got off the boat. When they saw Xu Xuan, she raised her rosy lips, revealing two rows of delicate teeth, and said earnestly, “Wanfu.” Xu Xuan quickly stood up to return the greeting. The woman and her maid sat down in the boat. The woman kept glancing at Xu Xuan with her charming eyes. Xu Xuan, being an honest man, couldn’t help but be attracted by such a beautiful woman, especially with a pretty maid beside her. The woman asked, “I dare not ask, but what is your surname and name?” Xu Xuan replied, “My surname is Xu, and my name is Xuan. I’m the eldest son.” She asked, “Where do you live?” Xu Xuan said, “I live in Heizhuer Alley, past Jun Bridge, running a herbal medicine shop.” After asking a few questions, Xu Xuan thought, “I should ask her too.” He stood up and said, “I dare not ask your surname or where you live, but…” The woman replied, “I am the sister of Bai Sanban Bai Dianzhi. I married an official, but unfortunately he passed away. His grave is here in Leiling. Since Qingming Festival is approaching, I came today with my maid to pay respects at his grave. I didn’t expect it to rain. If it weren’t for you letting me ride on your boat, I would have been in a difficult situation.” They chatted a bit longer until the boat reached the shore. Then the woman said, “I was in a hurry and didn’t bring any money with me. I hope you’ll lend me some money for the boat fare; I’ll repay it without fail.” Xu Xuan said, “Please, don’t worry about it. There’s no need to worry about the boat fare.” After returning the money,

The rain grew heavier, so Xu Xuan pulled the boat ashore. The woman said, “I’m just at the entrance of Shuangcha Fang Alley by Arrow Bridge. If you’re not too busy, you can come to my humble abode for tea and I’ll refund your boat fare.” Xu Xuan replied, “There’s no need to worry about such a trivial matter. It’s getting late; I’ll visit another day.” With that, the woman and her maid left.

Xu Xuan entered Yongjin Gate and went from under the rooftops to Sanqiao Street, where he saw an herbal medicine shop—exactly the store belonging to General Li’s brothers. As he approached the shop, he saw the younger brother of the general standing at the door. The younger brother asked, “Xiaoyi, it’s late. Where are you going?” Xu Xuan replied, “I’m heading to Baoshu Tower to burn incense. It’s raining, so could I borrow an umbrella?” The general called out, “Lao Chen, bring an umbrella for Official Xiaoyi.” Soon, Lao Chen handed him an umbrella, saying, “Official Xiaoyi, this umbrella was made by the honest Shu family at Qinghu Eight-Character Bridge. It has 84 ribs and a purple bamboo handle—it’s in excellent condition; don’t damage it! Be careful!” Xu Xuan said, “No need for further instructions.” He took the umbrella, thanked the general, and left. When he reached the entrance of the back market streets, he heard someone calling, “Official Xiaoyi.” Turning around, he saw a woman standing under the eaves of a small teahouse at Shen Gongjing Alley—it was Bai Niangzi, the woman who had taken him across the river. Xu Xuan asked, “How come you’re here?” Bai Niangzi replied, “The rain kept me here; my shoes got wet. I sent Qingqing home to get an umbrella for me. It’s getting dark too; could you walk with me a bit?” Xu Xuan and Bai Niangzi shared the umbrella as they walked to the riverbank. Xu Xuan asked, “Where are you going?” Bai Niangzi said, “I’m crossing the bridge to Arrow Bridge.” Xu Xuan replied, “Young lady, I’ll go through Military Bridge myself—it’s closer. You should take the umbrella; I’ll come back tomorrow.” Bai Niangzi said, “That wouldn’t be right. Thank you very much for your kindness!” Xu Xuan returned through the rooftops in the rain. There, he saw his brother-in-law Wang An waiting with an umbrella, which was a great relief. After returning home, he ate dinner. That night, he thought about the woman and couldn’t fall asleep. In his dream, everything was just as he had seen during the day, filled with deep affection. But suddenly, a rooster crowed—and it turned out to be all just a dream. As the saying goes: “The mind wanders thousands of miles; butterflies and bees cause chaos at dawn.”

When dawn came, he got up, washed up, had breakfast, and then went to the shop, preoccupied and unable to focus on any business. After noon, he thought, “If I don’t lie, how can I get this umbrella back?” At that moment, he saw the older brother of the general sitting at the counter. He said to him, “My brother-in-law told me to return early to give someone a gift; may I ask for half a day off?” The general replied, “Go ahead, but come back early tomorrow!” Xu Xuan bowed and headed straight to the entrance of Shuangcha Fang Alley by Arrow Bridge to look for Bai Niangzi’s house. After asking around for a while, no one recognized her. Just as he was hesitating, Bai Niangzi’s maid Qingqing came walking from the east. Xu Xuan said, “Sister, where do you live? I need to return the umbrella.” Qingqing replied, “Please follow me, sir.” Xu Xuan followed Qingqing for a short distance before she said, “This is it.”

When Xu Xuan looked, he saw a building with two large doors at the entrance and four windows in the middle facing the street. Fine crimson curtains hung from above, and twelve black lacquered chairs were arranged around. Four ancient landscape paintings by famous artists hung on the walls. Opposite was the wall of Princess Xiu’s mansion. The girl stepped behind the curtains and said, “Sir, please come in and sit.” Xu Xuan followed her inside. Qingqing whispered softly, “My lady, Sir Xu Xiaoyi is here.” Lady Bai replied from inside, “Please come in and have some tea.” Xu Xuan hesitated for a moment. Qingqing urged him to go in several times. When he entered, he saw four dark wooden windows with blue curtains drawn back, revealing someone sitting there. On the table was a pot of tiger beard reeds, and four paintings of beautiful women hung on both sides, with an idol hanging in the middle. There was also a bronze incense burner and vase on the table. The young lady bowed deeply and said, “Last night, I am very grateful to Sir Xu Xiaoyi for taking such good care of me at the beginning of our acquaintance.” Xu Xuan replied, “It’s nothing worth mentioning!” Lady Bai said, “Please sit down and have some tea.” After drinking the tea, she added, “I’ll serve you three cups of wine as a token of my gratitude.” Before Xu Xuan could refuse, Qingqing had already arranged various dishes and fruits. Xu Xuan said, “Thank you, my lady, for offering wine. I shouldn’t trouble you further.” After drinking a few cups, Xu Xuan stood up and said, “It’s getting late, and the road is far. I must leave now.” The lady said, “Your umbrella was borrowed by my relatives last night. Have a few more cups, and I’ll have someone bring it to you.” Xu Xuan replied, “It’s late; I need to go home.”

The lady insisted, “Have one more cup.” Xu Xuan said, “I’ve had enough. Thank you very much!” Lady Bai said, “Since you insist, please come back tomorrow to pick up your umbrella.” Xu Xuan had no choice but to decline and head home.

The next day, he went to the shop to do some business, making an excuse to visit Lady Bai’s house to get his umbrella back. When Lady Bai saw him, she prepared three more cups of tea. Xu Xuan said, “Please return my umbrella; there’s no need to trouble yourself further.” The lady replied, “Since it’s already arranged, have just one cup.” Xu Xuan had no choice but to sit down. Lady Bai poured a cup of wine for Xu Xuan. With cherry-red lips and pomegranate-like teeth, she spoke in a delicate voice, her face radiating warmth, and said:

“Sir, I can’t tell lies in front of you. I’ve lost my husband, and I believe we are destined to be together since past lives. From the first moment we met, I fell deeply in love with you—both of us share the same feelings.”

“I beg Sir Xu Xiaoyi to find a matchmaker so that we can be married and spend a lifetime together. If we’re not meant to be together from birth, then it wouldn’t be right!” After hearing these words, Xu Xuan thought to himself, “What a wonderful match! If I could marry this woman, I’d be very happy. The only problem is… during the day I work at General Li’s house, and at night I stay at my brother-in-law’s house. Although I don’t have much, I’ll try my best.”

“Clothes. How can I get money to marry my wife and children?” He remained silent, lost in thought. Then Bai Niang said, “Why don’t you reply, my dear?” Xu Xuan replied, “I’m extremely grateful for your kindness. To be honest, I’m in a difficult financial situation and dare not accept your offer!” Bai Niang said, “That’s easy! I have plenty of money; there’s no need to worry.” She then told Qingqing, “Go and bring down a bar of silver.” Qingqing climbed up the ladder, grabbed a bundle, and handed it to Bai Niang. Bai Niang said, “My dear Xu Xuan, use this money as needed. Come back if you’re short of funds,” and handed it to Xu Xuan personally.

Xu Xuan took the bundle and opened it to find fifty taels of silver. He hid it in his sleeve, got up to thank her, and Qingqing returned the umbrella to him. After saying goodbye, Xu Xuan went straight home and hid the silver. There was nothing more to discuss that night.

The next day, he left home and went to Guanxiangkou to return the umbrella to General Li. Xu Xuan used some small coins to buy a plump goose for cooking, fresh fish and meat, tender chicken, fruits, and other things to take home. He also bought some wine and asked his foster mother and maids to prepare everything. That day, his brother-in-law, Li Mushi, was at home. Everything was ready, and he invited his brother-in-law and sister to drink together. When Li Mushi saw that Xu Xuan had invited him, he was surprised and said, “What’s the reason for wasting money today? I rarely see you with wine before; what’s the fuss today?” The three sat down and started drinking. After a few cups, Li Mushi said, “Uncle, why waste money on such trivial things?” Xu Xuan replied, “Thank you, brother-in-law. Please don’t laugh. It’s nothing serious. I’m grateful that you and my sister have taken care of me for so long. It’s not right for one guest to trouble two hosts. I’m getting older now, and I’m worried that there won’t be anyone to support me in the future. There’s a marriage proposal here, and I hope you and my sister will help me settle down for life.” After hearing this, Li Mushi thought to himself, “Xu Xuan never spends a penny usually. Now that he’s wasted some money, he wants me to help him find a wife and children? As husband and wife, we just get along without talking much. Let him do business on his own after drinking.”

A few days later, Xu Xuan wondered, “Why hasn’t my sister mentioned it yet?” One day, he saw his sister asking, “Have you discussed it with your brother-in-law?” She replied, “No.” Xu Xuan asked, “Why haven’t you discussed it?” She said, “This isn’t like other matters; it can’t be rushed. Also, I’ve noticed that my brother-in-law has been worried these past few days. I’m afraid he’ll get upset, so I didn’t dare ask him.”

Xu Xuan said, “Sister, why aren’t you being serious? What’s so difficult about this? You’re probably afraid I’ll ask my brother-in-law to pay, that’s why you ignore it.” Xu Xuan then got up, went to the bedroom, opened a box, took out Bai Niangzi’s silver, and gave it to his sister, saying, “There’s no need to make excuses. It just depends on your brother-in-law to decide.” His sister replied, “My brother has been in charge at our uncle’s house for a long time and has saved up some private money. Now he wants to get married. Go ahead; I’ll stay here.”

Meanwhile, Li Mushi returned. His sister said, “Husband, do you know that my brother-in-law wants to get married? He’s managed to save up some private money, and now he wants me to exchange some of it for use. We have no choice but to go through with this marriage.” Hearing this, Li Mushi said, “I see. It’s good that he’s saved up some money. Let me take a look.” His wife quickly handed him the silver. Li Mushi took it in his hands, turned it over and over, examined the inscriptions on it, and suddenly cried out, “Alas! This is bad—our whole family is doomed!” His wife was shocked and asked, “Husband, what’s the problem?” Li Mushi replied, “A few days ago, fifty large silver ingots disappeared from Grand Marshal Shao’s treasury, which was sealed and locked. There was no way to enter the vault, and they just vanished. Now they’ve issued a warrant in Lin’an to capture the thief, and it’s extremely urgent. Many people have been harmed because of this. The warrant lists the exact description and number of ingots, stating, ‘Whoever captures the thief and returns the silver will be rewarded with fifty taels of silver; those who know about it but don’t report it, or those who hide the thief, along with the main culprit, will be sent to serve in the military in remote areas.’ This silver matches exactly what’s described in the warrant—it’s from Grand Marshal Shao’s treasury. The search is very urgent right now. It’s like fire at one’s doorstep; there’s no time to care for family. I must turn in the silver to avoid disaster for our entire family.” His wife was speechless, stunned. She immediately took the silver ingot and went to Lin’an to turn it in.

When the governor heard this, he couldn’t sleep all night. The next day, he quickly sent the investigator He Li. He Li brought his team, along with some quick-witted officials, straight to the Li family’s herbal medicine shop in Guanxiangkou to arrest the thief Xu Xuan. When they reached the counter, they shouted and tied Xu Xuan up with a rope. With the sound of gongs and drums, they took him to Lin’an. The governor entered the hall, made Xu Xuan kneel down, and ordered, “Beat him!” Xu Xuan said, “Sir, please don’t use torture. I don’t know what crime I’ve committed.” The governor snapped, “It’s obvious you’re the thief. What excuse do you have? Fifty large silver ingots disappeared from Grand Marshal Shao’s sealed treasury. Since Li Mushi has come forward, these forty-nine ingots must also be with you. You must be some kind of sorcerer! Don’t you want to be beaten?” He ordered, “Bring some blood!” Only then did Xu Xuan realize what was going on. He cried out, “I’m not a sorcerer! Let me explain!” The governor said, “Wait. First, tell me where this silver came from.” Xu Xuan then explained in detail how he borrowed an umbrella and later had to repay it. The governor asked, “Who is this aunt? Where is she?” Xu Xuan replied, “I don’t know…”

It was said to be the biological sister of Bai Dianzhi from Class Three of Bai. Now she was seen by the Arrow Bridge, at the entrance of Shuangcha Fang Alley, against the walls of Prince Xiu’s mansion, on the high slope opposite the Black Building. The governor immediately ordered the arrest officer He Li to take Xu Xuan and go to the entrance of Shuangcha Fang Alley to capture this woman.

He Li and his men received the imperial order and rushed to the entrance of Shuangcha Fang Alley, in front of Prince Xiu’s mansion, opposite the Black Building. There were four steps in front of the door, with two large doors in the middle. Outside the door, there was a shelter, and in front of the slope lay trash, with a bamboo pole lying across it. He Li and his men were stunned upon seeing this scene. They immediately arrested the neighbors—first, Qiu Da, who worked as a florist, and second, Sun Gong, who was a leatherworker. Sun Gong was so frightened that he fainted. The other neighbors said, “There has never been any Lady Bai here. About five or six years ago, a patrol officer died of illness in this house. During the day, ghosts often came out to buy things, so no one dared to live there. A few days ago, a madman stood in front of the door singing. We asked everyone to remove the bamboo pole from the door, but inside it was completely empty. A gust of wind blew, bringing with it a foul smell. Everyone was shocked and stepped back. Xu Xuan was speechless, as if stunned. Among the officers, there was one who was brave and ranked second; his surname was Wang. He loved drinking alcohol, so they called him “Wine King Er”. Wang Er said, “Follow me!” He shouted and rushed in. Inside, there were wooden walls, benches, and tables. When they reached the ladder, Wang Er went up first, followed by the others. On the floor, there was three inches of dust. When they reached the room, they pushed open the door and saw a curtain hanging over the bed, along with chests. There sat a beautiful woman dressed in white, like a flower. Everyone was too afraid to approach her. They said, “We don’t know whether you’re a spirit or a ghost. We’ve come here by order of the governor of Lin’an to summon you to testify in connection with Xu Xuan.” The woman remained motionless. Wine King Er said, “Everyone is too afraid to move forward. What should we do? Bring me a jar of wine so I can drink it. If I can’t do anything, I’ll take her to see the governor.” They quickly sent two or three people to get a jar of wine for Wang Er. He opened the jar and drank all the wine, then said, “I still can’t do anything!” He threw the empty jar at the curtain. Just as he did that, there was a loud noise, like a thunderclap in the clear sky. Everyone was terrified! When they looked up, the woman was gone from the bed, replaced by a pile of silver coins. They counted them and found forty-nine pieces. They said, “Let’s take this silver to see the governor.” They carried the silver to the Lin’an government office.

He Li reported everything to the governor. The governor said, “It must be some kind of demon. Well, the neighbors are innocent; let them go home.” He ordered fifty pieces of silver to be given to Captain Shao, along with an explanation of what had happened. Xu Xuan was told that he shouldn’t have done what he did. Those who committed serious offenses would be punished with whips or forced to work in the prison camps all day long.

The prison camp under Su Zhou Prefecture’s jurisdiction was known for its leniency. Li, worried after Xu Xuan stepped forward to take responsibility, gave all fifty taels of silver given to him by Commander Shao to his uncle as expenses. General Li prepared two letters: one for Judge Fan and another for Wang, the owner of an inn by Jili Bridge.

Xu Xuan wept bitterly, bid farewell to his brother-in-law and sister, put on the shackles, and, accompanied by two guards, left Hangzhou for Dongxin Bridge, where he boarded a boat.

In just a day, they arrived in Su Zhou. He first delivered the letters to Judge Fan and Wang. Wang paid some money to the officials there, sent two men to Su Zhou Prefecture, submitted the official documents, handed over the prisoner, received confirmation, and the guards returned. Judge Fan and Wang took care of Xu Xuan so that he wouldn’t end up in prison; he stayed on the upper floor of Wang’s house. Full of sorrow, Xu Xuan wrote a poem on the wall:

Hometown
Alone I climb the high tower to gaze afar,
Gloomy as the slanting sun lights the lattice window.
All my life I’ve been a man of sincerity,
Who would’ve thought I’d meet such a bewitching woman?
I have no idea where to return;
How can I know where I stand?
I left my kin to come to Su Zhou—
Thinking of home breaks my heart in two!

Time passed quickly—before he knew it, half a year had gone by at Wang’s house. One late September, Wang was standing at the door, watching people come and go in the street. From afar, he saw a sedan chair with a maid following it. The maid asked, “Excuse me, is this Wang’s house?” Wang quickly got up and said, “Yes, it is. Who are you looking for?” The maid replied, “I’m looking for Mr. Xu Xiaoyi from Lin’an Prefecture.” Wang said, “Wait a moment; I’ll call him out.” The sedan chair stopped in front of the door. Wang went inside and called, “Brother Xiaoyi, someone is looking for you.” Hearing this, Xu Xuan rushed out. When he went to the door with Wang, he saw Qingqing following, with Lady White sitting in the sedan chair. Upon seeing her, Xu Xuan cried out, “You wretched woman! Ever since you stole the silver from the government treasury, you’ve caused me so much suffering. Now that I’m in this situation, why do you come here? How shameful!” Lady White said, “Mr. Xu Xiaoyi, don’t blame me. I’ve come especially to clarify things between us. Let’s go inside and talk.”

Lady White asked Qingqing to get the packages from the sedan chair. Xu Xuan said, “You’re a ghost! You’re not allowed in!” He blocked the door and wouldn’t let her in. Lady White bowed deeply to Wang and said, “I won’t hide anything from you, sir. How could I be a ghost? My clothes have seams, and I cast a shadow in the sunlight. Unfortunately, my late husband…”

He passed away, teaching me how to be bullied like this. What was done was something that happened before; it has nothing to do with me. Now, fearing you might blame me, I’ve come specifically to clarify things; I’m willing to leave even if it means leaving.”

The host said, “Let your wife come in and sit down to talk.” The wife replied, “I’ll go inside with you to speak to the host’s mother.” Those who were watching outside all dispersed.

Xu Xuan went inside and said to the host and his mother, “It’s because I stole government money that I ended up in court. It happened just as I described; that’s why I faced legal troubles. Now that I’ve come here again, what’s there to say?” Bai Niang said, “My late husband left some silver. I intended to help you out of kindness, but I don’t know how it happened.” Xu Xuan asked, “How could it be that when the officials came to arrest you, the door was full of trash, and you disappeared right inside the tent?” Bai Niang replied, “I heard people say you arrested me over that silver. I was afraid you’d expose me and take me to court, which would be embarrassing. With no other choice, I went to my aunt’s house in Huazang Temple; I had people pile trash in front of the door and placed the silver on the bed, asking the neighbors to lie for me.” Xu Xuan said, “You left and made me face legal trouble!” Bai Niang said, “I put the silver on the bed, hoping everything would be fine. How could I have known there would be so many complications? When I saw you here, I brought some money and took a boat to look for you. Now that everything’s clear, I’ll leave. Perhaps we weren’t meant to be husband and wife in a past life!” The host said, “Your wife has traveled such a long way here—how can she just leave? Stay here for a few days and we’ll figure things out.” Qingqing added, “Since the host insists, let her stay for a couple of days. After all, she was originally promised to Young Master Xiao Yi.” Bai Niang casually replied, “How embarrassing! Does it mean no one wants me? I only came to sort out right from wrong.” The host said, “If you were originally promised to Young Master Xiao Yi, why go back? Please stay here.” The sedan chair was sent away, and that’s the end of that story.

A few days passed. Bai Niang first won over the host’s mother. The mother advised the host to reconcile with Xu Xuan, setting the wedding date for November 11th, so they could spend their lives together happily. Time flew by, and soon the auspicious day arrived. Bai Niang took out some silver and asked the host to arrange a wedding feast. The two got married in a ceremony. After the banquet, they went to their bridal chamber. Bai Niang displayed her enchanting charm, being extremely lovely and charming, making Xu Xuan feel as if he’d met a fairy. He regretted only that they met too late. As they enjoyed each other’s company, unbeknownst to them, the rooster crowed three times, and dawn approached. It was truly the case: in joy, they wished the night were longer; in loneliness, they hated the hours passing.

From that day on, the couple lived together harmoniously like fish in water, spending their days happily at the host’s home. As time went by, half a year passed. Spring arrived, with flowers blooming beautifully and people coming and going, making the streets lively. Xu Xuan asked the host, “Why are everyone going out to enjoy themselves today? It’s so noisy.”

“Shouting?” the master said, “It’s the middle of February today. Both men and women go to see the Reclining Buddha. You should also go take a stroll around Chengtian Temple.” Upon hearing this, Xu Xuan said, “I’ll tell my wife and then go take a look too.”

Xu Xuan went upstairs and told Bai Niangzi, “It’s the middle of February today. Men and women all go to see the Reclining Buddha. I’ll go have a look and then come back. If anyone comes looking for me, say I’m not at home and not available to meet them.” Bai Niangzi said, “What’s there to see? Isn’t it better to stay at home? Why go watch him?” Xu Xuan replied, “I’ll just go out for a while and be back. It’s no problem.”

After leaving the inn, Xu Xuan met a few acquaintances and they all went together to the temple to see the Reclining Buddha. They wandered around the corridors and various halls before leaving the temple. There, they saw a man dressed in a Taoist robe, wearing a Taoist hat, with a yellow sash around his waist and straw shoes on his feet. He was sitting in front of the temple selling medicine and distributing talismans. Xu Xuan stopped to watch. The man said, “I am a Taoist from Zhongnan Mountain. I travel everywhere, distributing talismans to cure people’s illnesses and disasters. If you have any problems, come to me.” The man noticed a dark aura above Xu Xuan’s head and realized there must be a demon haunting him. He said, “A demon has been troubling you lately, and its harm is severe! I’ll give you two spiritual talismans to save your life. Burn one at midnight, and keep the other hidden in your hair.” Xu Xuan took the talismans, bowed deeply, and thought to himself, “I’ve already suspected that woman to be a demon; it turns out to be true.” After thanking the man, he returned straight to the inn.

That night, Bai Niangzi and Qingqing were asleep. Xu Xuan got up and said, “It must be midnight already!” He placed one of the talismans in his hair and was about to burn the other when Bai Niangzi sighed and said, “Brother Xiao Yi, we’ve been husband and wife for so long, yet you still don’t treat me affectionately. Instead, you believe others’ words and burn talismans at midnight to suppress me! Give me that talisman and let me burn it!” She snatched the talisman and burned it right away, with no effect at all. Bai Niangzi asked, “So what? They say I’m a demon!” Xu Xuan replied, “It’s none of my business. A wandering monk in front of the Reclining Buddha Temple said you’re a demon.” Bai Niangzi said, “Tomorrow, let’s go see him together. I want to know what kind of man he is.”

The next day, Bai Niangzi got up early, dressed neatly, put on earrings, and wore simple clothes. She asked Qingqing to watch over the upstairs room. The couple went to the front of the Reclining Buddha Temple. There, they saw a crowd gathered around the monk, who was distributing talismans.

Bai Niangzi opened her sinister eyes, stepped forward to the monk, and shouted, “How rude! A monk speaks ill of me in front of my husband, using talismans to capture me!” The monk replied, “I practice the righteous method of the Five Thunder Hearts. Any demon that consumes my talismans will reveal its true form.”

“Come.” Bai Niang said, “With everyone here, write a talisman for me to eat!” The man wrote a talisman and handed it to Bai Niang. She took it and swallowed it. Everyone watched, but nothing happened. They said, “How can such a woman be called a monster?” They all cursed the man. The man was so shocked that he was speechless for a long time, his face full of fear. Bai Niang said, “With all these officials here, he can’t catch me. I learned some magic tricks since I was young; let me show them to everyone.” Bai Niang murmured something in her mouth; it seemed she was chanting something. The man was as if captured by someone, shrinking up and floating into the air. Everyone was astonished. Xu Xuan was stunned. Bai Niang said, “If it weren’t for these officials here, I would make this man suffer for a year.” Bai Niang blew out air, and the man fell back down. She regretted not having wings to fly away quickly. Everyone dispersed. The couple returned as before, and no further story is needed. As time passed, Bai Niang was always the one to provide money for expenses. It was truly a harmonious life, with the husband leading and the wife following, happy day and night.

Before they knew it, time flew by, and it was April 8th again, the birthday of Buddha Shakyamuni. People in the streets carried palanquins for bathing the Buddha statue, and every household made offerings. Xu Xuan said to Master Wang, “It’s just like Hangzhou here.” A young boy from the neighborhood named Tie Tou said, “Sir, there’s a Buddha festival at Chengtian Temple today; you should go and take a look.” Xu Xuan turned around and told Bai Niang. She said, “What’s there to see? Don’t go!” Xu Xuan replied, “I’ll just go for a walk to relieve my boredom.”

Bai Niang said, “If you really want to go, your old clothes don’t look good. Let me dress you properly.” She asked Qingqing to bring some new, stylish clothes. Xu Xuan put on clothes that were neither too long nor too short, fitting perfectly. He wore a black lacquered headband, white jade rings behind his head, a green silk robe, soot-colored boots, and in his hand, a delicate spring silk fan adorned with gold decorations. He was neatly dressed from head to toe. Bai Niang gave him some instructions and said, “Husband, come back early. Don’t keep me worried!” Xu Xuan went to Chengtian Temple with Tie Tou to watch the Buddha festival. Everyone praised him, saying what a fine gentleman he was. Then someone said, “Last night, four or five thousand taels of gold, pearls, and valuables disappeared from General Zhou’s treasury. After checking, they reported it to the authorities, but no one has been caught yet.” Xu Xuan didn’t understand what this meant, so he stayed at the temple with Tie Tou. That day, many men and women, including children of officials, came to burn incense, making it very lively. Xu Xuan said, “My wife told me to leave early. Let’s go.” He turned around and disappeared into the crowd. Tie Tou was no longer there. Xu Xuan walked out of the temple alone. There were five or six men dressed like officials, with badges around their waists. One of them looked at Xu Xuan and said to the others, “What he’s wearing and what he’s holding looks familiar…” One of them recognized Xu Xuan and said, “Sir, let me borrow your fan for a moment.” Xu Xuan, not realizing it was a trick, handed over his fan to the official.

The crowd said, “Look at this fan pendant—it’s exactly like those on the list!” Everyone shouted, “Seize him!” They quickly tied up Xu Xuan, as if several soap-carved figures were chasing a purple swallow, or a pack of hungry tigers biting a lamb.

Xu Xuan said, “Everyone, don’t make a mistake—I’m innocent.” The officials replied, “Is that so? Then go to General Zhou’s house in front of the government office and explain yourself! His shop lost five thousand taels worth of gold, jewels, fine silk, white jade bracelets, delicate fans, and coral pendants. How can you still claim innocence? There’s no need to argue—clearly you’re a bold man who regards us officials as nothing. Look, everything on my head, body, and feet belongs to his family, yet I walk around openly without any shame!” Xu Xuan was stunned for a while, not saying a word. Then he said, “I see. It’s fine, it’s fine; surely someone else stole them.” The officials said, “Go and explain yourself at the Suzhou government office.”

The next day, the high official entered the hall and brought Xu Xuan before him. The official questioned him, “Where are the gold and jewels stolen from General Zhou’s treasury? Confess truthfully to avoid punishment.” Xu Xuan replied, “Please decide, sir. All the clothes and items I wear belong to my wife, Bai Niang. I don’t know where they came from. I hope you’ll examine them carefully!” The official snapped, “Where is your wife now?” Xu Xuan answered, “She’s upstairs at Master Wang’s place by Jili Bridge.” The official immediately sent officer Yuan Ziming to arrest Xu Xuan right away.

Officer Yuan Ziming went to Master Wang’s shop. The owner was surprised and asked quickly, “What’s the matter?” Xu Xuan asked, “Is Bai Niang upstairs?” The owner replied, “You and Tie Tou went to Chengtian Temple earlier. Not long after, Bai Niang told me, ‘My husband went to the temple to amuse himself; ask Qingqing and me to take care of upstairs. Since he hasn’t returned yet, Qingqing and I went to look for him in front of the temple. Please watch over things here for us.’ She left and hasn’t returned by evening. I thought she went to visit relatives with you, but she still hasn’t come back today.” The officials asked Master Wang to find Bai Niang, but they searched thoroughly and couldn’t find her. Yuan Ziming arrested the owner and reported back to the high official. The official asked, “Where is Bai Niang?” Master Wang replied carefully, saying, “Bai Niang is a demon.” After asking more questions, the official ordered, “Put Xu Xuan under custody first!” Master Wang paid some money to get him released temporarily, waiting to see how things turned out.

Meanwhile, General Zhou was sitting in a teahouse across the street when his servant reported, “All the gold and jewels have been found—in an empty box in the treasury.” Hearing this, General Zhou hurried home to check, and indeed they were there, except for the headscarf, bracelets, fans, and fan pendants. General Zhou thought, “It’s obvious Xu Xuan has been framed; it’s wrong to harm an innocent person like this.” He secretly spoke to the relevant authorities and had Xu Xuan charged with a minor offense.

It is said that Lord Shao sent Li Mu to Suzhou on official business, and he stayed at Master Wang’s house. Master Wang brought Xu Xuan there, and they discussed the official matters in detail. Li Mu thought to himself, “Considering my own family ties, how can I just abandon him? I have no choice but to ask for favors and spend money to help him.” One day, the high official obtained a full confession from Xu Xuan, attributing all the crimes to Bai Niang, accusing her of “failing to expose the demons,” and sentenced her to a hundred lashes and exile three hundred sixty li away, to work in the prison camp of Zhenjiang Prefecture. Li Mu said, “It’s not a problem going to Zhenjiang. I have an uncle by adoption named Li Keyong who runs a herbal medicine shop under Needle Bridge. I’ll write a letter for you; you can go and seek his help.” Xu Xuan had no choice but to borrow some money from his brother-in-law, thanked Master Wang and his brother-in-law, bought food and drink for the two officials, packed his belongings, and set off. Master Wang and his brother-in-law saw him off before returning home.

Meanwhile, Xu Xuan traveled along the road, suffering from hunger and thirst, traveling day and night. After a day, he arrived in Zhenjiang. He first searched for Li Keyong’s house and found the herbal medicine shop under Needle Bridge. The shopkeeper was selling herbs outside the door, while an elderly official came out from inside. The two officials and Xu Xuan quickly whispered, “I am a relative of Li Mu from Hangzhou; I have a letter here.” The shopkeeper took it and handed it to the elderly official. The official opened it and asked, “Are you Xu Xuan?” Xu Xuan replied, “Yes, I am.” Li Keyong fed the three of them, ordered the attendant to take them to his residence, issued the necessary documents, spent some money, and ensured they could return home. After getting a document confirming their safe return, they went back to Suzhou.

Xu Xuan returned home with the attendant, thanked Li Keyong, and greeted the elderly lady. When Li Keyong saw Li Mu’s letter, he said, “Xu Xuan used to be the shopkeeper here.” So he kept him working in the shop and arranged for him to stay at the Wang Gong Lou in Wu Tiao Alley at night. Li Keyong was pleased with Xu Xuan’s diligence in running the shop. There were originally two shopkeepers in the store: Zhang, the chief shopkeeper, and Zhao, another shopkeeper. Zhao was honest and upright, while Zhang was greedy and deceitful, taking advantage of his age to oppress those younger than him. Seeing Xu Xuan added to the staff, Zhang was unhappy and feared he might be dismissed; instead, he came up with a scheme to envy Xu Xuan.

One day, Li Keyong came to the shop casually and asked, “How is the newcomer doing in his work?” Hearing this, Zhang thought, “My plan has worked!” He replied, “It’s fine, but there’s one problem…” Li Keyong asked, “What problem?” Old Zhang said, “The boss is willing to let him do business, but he keeps sending the newcomer away, which is why people say he’s not good. I’ve tried to persuade him several times, but he won’t listen to me.” The elderly merchant said, “That’s easy; I’ll deal with it myself.”

“Well, I’m not afraid he won’t agree.” Supervisor Zhao, who had overheard this, said to Supervisor Zhang in private, “We all need to get along harmoniously. Xu Xuan is new here; it’s up to me and you to take care of him. If there’s a problem, it’s better to discuss it face to face—why speak about him behind his back? If he finds out, he’ll think we’re jealous.” Old Zhang replied, “You young folks know nothing!” It was already late, so everyone went back to their respective places. Supervisor Zhao went to Xu Xuan’s place and said, “Supervisor Zhang is jealous of you in front of the boss. You need to work even harder now, treating both the boss and subordinates equally in business dealings.” Xu Xuan said, “Thank you for your advice. Let’s go have a drink together.” The two went to an inn and sat down. The waiter brought over plates of food and drinks, and they drank a few cups. Supervisor Zhao said, “The old boss is very straightforward and can’t stand being offended. Just follow his nature and be patient in doing business.” Xu Xuan said, “Thank you so much for your kindness; I really can’t express my gratitude enough.” They drank another couple of cups before it got dark. Supervisor Zhao said, “It’s getting late; the roads are dark and dangerous. Let’s meet again another day.” Xu Xuan paid for the drinks, and they parted ways.

Xu Xuan felt a bit drunk from the wine and was worried he might offend someone, so he returned under the eaves. As he walked along, he saw a window opened upstairs in a house, and ashes from an ironing board were thrown down onto his head. He stopped in his tracks and cursed, “You wretched women! How could you be so heartless?” A woman hurriedly came downstairs and said, “Sir, please don’t scold me. It was my mistake; please forgive me!” Xu Xuan, still half-drunk, looked up and their eyes met—it was Bai Niangzi. Anger surged in Xu Xuan’s heart, and his fury grew uncontrollably. He cursed, “You vile witch! You’ve caused me so much trouble! I’ve been involved in two legal cases because of you!” It was as the saying goes: “After much searching, I find her without any effort.”

Xu Xuan said, “If you’re here again, aren’t you a demon?” He rushed at her, grabbed Bai Niangzi, and said, “I want a divorce, officially or otherwise!” Bai Niangzi smiled and said, “Husband, ‘A night of marriage brings a lifetime of affection.’ There’s a long story behind this. Those clothes were left by my first husband. I loved you deeply and gave them to you to wear. How could you repay my kindness with hatred, turning us into enemies?” Xu Xuan asked, “The day I came back to look for you, why weren’t you there? The host said you went to the temple with Qingqing to see me. Why are you here instead?” Bai Niangzi replied, “When I arrived at the temple, I heard that you had been captured. I asked Qingqing to find out, but she couldn’t locate you, thinking you had escaped. Fearing they would come for me, I had Qingqing quickly get a boat so I could go to my uncle’s house in Jiankang Prefecture. I arrived here just yesterday. I thought I’d caused you two legal problems; how could I face you again? It’s useless for me to apologize. We’re meant for each other; we’ve become husband and wife. Now that everything’s fine, why should we part? Our love is as deep as Mount Tai, our affection as vast as the East Sea. We swear to live and die together. Why not stay together as husband and wife, spending a hundred years together?” Xu Xuan was moved by Bai Niangzi’s words...

Deceiving, turning anger into joy, after pondering for a long time, her heart was bewitched by lust, and she decided not to return to her usual place, but instead stayed on Lady Bai’s floor.

The next day, she went to Lord Wang’s house in the Five Alleys of Shanghe and said to him, “My wife and maid have come here from Suzhou.” She explained everything and said, “I’m moving back here to live together.” Lord Wang replied, “That’s wonderful; what more could be said?”

That same day, she brought Lady Bai and Qingqing to Lord Wang’s house. The next day, they invited their neighbors over for tea. On the third day, the neighbors hosted a welcome party for Xu Xuan. After the banquet, everyone went home, and nothing further happened. On the fourth day, Xu Xuan got up early, dressed himself, and said to Lady Bai, “I’ll go thank our neighbors and do some business; you and Qingqing stay upstairs and don’t go outside!” After giving those instructions, he went to the shop to do business, leaving early and returning late. Time passed quickly, and another month went by.

One day, Xu Xuan discussed with Lady Bai the idea of visiting the family of their employer, Lady Li. Lady Bai said, “Since you’re in charge there, it would be good to meet them so you can visit more often.” The next day, they hired a sedan chair, and Lady Bai got into it. Lord Wang prepared a box, and Maid Qingqing followed them as they went to Lady Li’s house. After getting out of the sedan chair, they entered the house and asked Lady Li to come out. Li Keyong rushed over immediately. Lady Bai bowed deeply twice, and Lady Li also bowed twice. All the women present bowed as well. Although Li Keyong was old, he was extremely fond of women. Seeing Lady Bai’s stunning beauty, he was completely captivated.

He stared at Lady Bai without blinking. They prepared food and drinks for them. Lady Li said to her husband, “What a clever woman! She’s extremely beautiful, gentle, and sensible.” Her husband replied, “Even the most beautiful women in Hangzhou can’t compare to her.” After drinking, Lady Bai thanked them and left. Li Keyong thought to himself, “How can I spend a night with this woman?” He frowned and came up with a plan: “June 13th is my birthday. Don’t worry; I’ll find a way to get this woman to agree.”

Time flew by. Soon after the Dragon Boat Festival, it was early June again. The man said, “Mother, June 13th is my birthday. Let’s hold a banquet to invite relatives and friends to enjoy themselves—it will bring me joy for life.” That day, he sent invitations to all his relatives, friends, and employees. The next day, everyone brought candles, noodles, handkerchiefs, and other gifts. On the 13th, everyone came to the banquet and spent the day there. The next day, it was the women’s turn to celebrate his birthday. Lady Bai also came, dressed very nicely, wearing a green silk dress with gold embroidery.

She wore a red silk dress, adorned with countless pearls, jade, gold, and silver jewelry. Taking Qingqing with her, they went inside to celebrate her birthday and met the elderly lady. A banquet was arranged in the east wing. It turned out that Li Keyong was someone who kept his tail after eating lice; seeing Bai Niang’s beauty, he devised this plan and held a grand banquet. Everyone passed the cups around. When they were half-drunk, he got up, took off his clothes, and washed his hands. Li Yuanwai had previously instructed his trusted maid, Yangniang, saying, “If Bai Niang goes to the east wing and he tries to enter, lead her instead to a secluded room at the back.” With his plan ready, Li Yuanwai hid himself at the back. As the saying goes: No need to dig holes or climb walls—just steal the beloved like a thief.

Bai Niang really did go to wash her hands, and Yangniang led her to a secluded room at the back, then returned. Li Yuanwai, filled with lust, couldn’t control himself and didn’t dare enter right away; instead, he peeked through the crack in the door. If he hadn’t peeked, everything would have been fine, but as soon as he did, he was shocked and ran away, collapsing behind. He didn’t know what would happen to him next—he simply felt his limbs unable to move!

In his eyes, there was no sight of her beautiful figure; instead, he saw a thick white snake hanging in the room, its eyes like lanterns emitting golden light. Terrified, he ran away, tripping over things along the way. The maids helped him up and found him pale and trembling. The supervisor quickly gave him a potion to calm his spirit, and he finally regained consciousness. The elderly lady and others came to check on him, asking, “Why are you making such a fuss?” Li Yuanwai didn’t mention what had happened and said, “I woke up early today and have been working hard these past few days. I suffered from a headache and fainted. I was taken back to my room to sleep. After that, I drank a few more cups with my relatives, and once the banquet ended, everyone went home.”

Back at home, Bai Niang worried that Li Yuanwai might reveal her true nature to Xu Xuan at work the next day. So she came up with a plan—she took off her clothes and sighed. Xu Xuan asked, “We went out for drinks together today—why are you sighing when you return?” Bai Niang replied, “Husband, I can’t tell you! Li Yuanwai pretended it was a birthday, but his intentions were evil. When I went to the east wing, he was inside, trying to deceive me by pulling at my dress and pants to harass me. I tried to call for help, but everyone was there, so I was afraid. I pushed him to the ground, and out of shame, he pretended to faint. How can I vent my anger now?” Xu Xuan said, “Since he didn’t actually try to deceive you, and he’s my employer, I had no choice but to endure it. Let’s not go there anymore.” Bai Niang said, “If you won’t stand up for me, do you even want to be human?” Xu Xuan replied, “Your brother-in-law wrote to me earlier, telling me to seek refuge at his house. Thanks to him, I was allowed to stay there as a supervisor. How can I just leave now?” Bai Niang said, “You’re such a man! You let him treat you like this, yet you still want to stay at his house as a supervisor?” Xu Xuan asked, “Where else am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do?” Bai Niang said, “Being a supervisor for someone else is still…”

“For such a humble task, it’s better to open one’s own herbal medicine shop,” said Xu Xuan. “You’re right, but is that all? Just to get our money back?” Bai Niang replied, “Don’t worry; it’s easy. Tomorrow I’ll give you some silver, and you can go rent a house first.” Then they continued talking.

As the saying goes, “The present is the past, and the past is the present.” Such things happened everywhere. Next door lived a man named Jiang He, who was always willing to do good deeds. The next day, Xu Xuan asked Bai Niang for some silver and sent Jiang He to rent a house at the horsehead area by the Zhenjiang ferry, where he bought a set of herbal medicine cabinets. Gradually, he collected various herbs, and by around October everything was ready. They chose a day to open the pharmacy, with Xu Xuan not taking on the role of manager. Lord Li also realized he shouldn’t involve him in this.

Since opening the shop, Xu Xuan’s business thrived day by day, bringing him substantial profits. While selling herbs outside the shop, he saw a monk carrying a collection box and said, “I am a monk from Jinshan Temple. Today is the birthday of the Dragon King. I hope you will come to the temple to offer incense and donations.” Xu Xuan replied, “There’s no need to write down my name. I have some fine incense; here, take it and burn it.” He immediately took out the incense from his cabinet and handed it to the monk. The monk accepted it and said, “I hope you’ll come to offer incense on that day!” Then he left. Bai Niang saw this and said, “You fool! Give that fine incense to that thief-monk so he can use it to buy wine and meat!” Xu Xuan replied, “I gave it to him out of sincerity. If it’s wasted, it’s his fault.”

Before long, it was again the seventh day of the seventh month. Xu Xuan was running his shop when he saw chaos in the streets with people coming and going. Jiang He, who helped out, suggested, “Sir, you donated incense the other day. Why not go to the temple for a stroll today?” Xu Xuan said, “I’ll finish up in a moment. I’ll go with you.” Jiang He said, “It’s my honor to accompany you.” Xu Xuan quickly finished up, went inside, and said to Bai Niang, “I’m going to Jinshan Temple to offer incense. Can you take care of the shop?” Bai Niang replied, “One doesn’t enter the sacred hall without reason. What’s the point?” Xu Xuan said, “First, I’ve never been to Jinshan Temple before, so I want to take a look. Second, I donated incense the other day, so I want to go and offer prayers.” Bai Niang said, “Since you’re going, I can’t stop you, but you must follow my three conditions.” Xu Xuan asked, “What are they?” Bai Niang replied, “First, don’t go inside the abbot’s quarters. Second, don’t talk to the monks. Third, go and come back right away. If you’re late, I’ll come looking for you.” Xu Xuan said, “That’s fine. I’ll do all of it.” He quickly changed into fresh clothes and shoes, put the incense box in his sleeve, and went with Jiang He to the riverbank. They boarded a boat and headed to Jinshan Temple. First, they offered incense in the Dragon King Hall, then walked around the temple. Finally, they came to the abbot’s door. Suddenly, Xu Xuan remembered his wife’s warning not to enter the abbot’s quarters.

He went inside but stopped there and didn’t go further. Jiang He said, “It doesn’t matter. He’s at home anyway; just go back and say you never went.” With that, he went in, took a look, and then came out.

Meanwhile, in the main hall of the monastery, there sat a virtuous monk with delicate features and a round robe. From his appearance, it was clear he was a genuine monk. When he saw Xu Xuan passing by, he called to the servant, “Quickly, have that young man come in.” The servant looked around among the crowd of thousands but couldn’t recognize him and replied, “I don’t know which way he went.” The monk, seeing this, took his staff and went out to search, but found no trace of him. He then returned to the monastery and saw everyone waiting for the storm to subside before boarding a boat. As the storm grew worse, he said, “We can’t go.” Just then, he saw a boat approaching quickly from the middle of the river.

Xu Xuan said to Jiang He, “That boat can’t cross with such strong winds and waves—how is that other boat able to come so fast?” While they were talking, the boat got closer. They saw a woman in white and a girl in green coming to the shore. Upon closer inspection, they recognized them as Bai Niangzi and Qingqing. Xu Xuan was shocked to see Bai Niangzi on the shore and cried out, “Why haven’t you returned? Come aboard quickly!” As Xu Xuan tried to get on the boat, he heard someone shout behind him, “What are you doing here, you wretched creature?” Xu Xuan turned around and saw the monk say, “Master Fahai has arrived!” The monk said, “You wretched creature! How dare you come again and be rude, harming living beings! I’ve come especially for you.” Seeing the monk, Bai Niangzi pushed off the boat, and together with Qingqing, they capsized the boat, sinking both of them underwater.

Xu Xuan turned to the monk and bowed, saying, “Please save my life, venerable master!” The monk asked, “How did you meet this woman?” Xu Xuan recounted everything that had happened from start to finish. After hearing this, the monk said, “That woman is indeed a demon. You should hurry back to Hangzhou. If she bothers you again, come to Jingci Temple in Hunan and seek me out. Here are four lines of poetry:

‘She was originally a demon transformed into a woman,
Selling her coquettish voice by the West Lake shore.
Your country fails to see through her schemes;
In times of trouble, come to Hunan and find me.’”

Xu Xuan thanked Master Fahai, then went back across the river with Jiang He to return home. Bai Niangzi and Qingqing were nowhere to be seen, and he finally believed they were demons. That night, he asked Jiang He to stay with him, feeling troubled and unable to sleep all night. The next morning, he asked Jiang He to watch over the house while he went to Li Keyong’s house at Needle Bridge and told him what had happened. Li Keyong said, “On the day of my birthday, she appeared in the east, and I bumped into her. Unexpectedly, I encountered that demon, which scared me to death. I didn’t dare tell you about it. Since that’s the case, move here and live with me. There’s no need to think further.” Xu Xuan thanked Li Keyong and moved to his house. Before long, more than two months had passed.

One day, standing in front of the door, he saw that the local officials had ordered everyone to prepare incense, flowers, lamps, and candles to welcome the imperial amnesty. It turned out that Emperor Gaozong of Song had appointed Emperor Xiaozong and issued an amnesty throughout the land—except for cases involving murder, all other minor offenses were pardoned and people were allowed to return home. Xu Xuan was overjoyed at this amnesty and composed a poem:

“Grateful for the emperor’s gracious decree,
Three paths are opened for renewal.
I shall not be a ghost in a foreign land at death,
But return as a native of my homeland in life.
Unluckily, I faced greater sorrows,
Yet who would have thought my sins would be eradicated?
Back home, I light piles of incense
To thank heaven and earth for their second chance.”

After finishing his poem, Xu Xuan asked Mr. Li’s office to arrange funds for his use. After meeting with the high official, he was escorted back. He thanked his neighbors, Mr. Li’s mother, and all those who had helped him, then bid farewell. He also asked Jiang He to buy some local goods to take back to Hangzhou. Upon returning home, he met his brother-in-law and sister and bowed to them four times. When Li Mu saw Xu Xuan, he said anxiously, “You really have deceived me! I wrote to you twice, asking you to find someone to help you, yet you married and settled down at Mr. Li’s house without even sending me a letter to let me know—how unkind and heartless!” Xu Xuan replied, “I haven’t married anyone.” His brother-in-law said, “Just two days ago, a woman came with a maid, claiming to be your wife. She said you went to Jinshan Temple to burn incense on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month and never returned. How could we not look for you? We finally learned you had returned to Hangzhou, so she and the maid came here to wait for you for two days.” They had the woman and maid brought in to meet Xu Xuan. Upon seeing them, Xu Xuan realized they were Bai Niang and Qingqing. Shocked, he was speechless and did not say anything in front of his brother-in-law and sister; he simply let them scold him. Li Mu then asked Xu Xuan to go into a room with Bai Niang to settle down. Xu Xuan, fearing her, became panicked and dared not approach. He knelt before her and said, “I don’t know what kind of spirit or ghost you are, but please spare my life!” Bai Niang replied, “Xiao Yi Ge, why such words? I’ve been your wife for so long and have never wronged you—why say such foolish things?” Xu Xuan said, “Ever since I met you, I’ve been in trouble with the authorities twice. When I went to Zhenjiang Prefecture, you came looking for me. The other day, when I returned late from Jinshan Temple, you and Qingqing rushed over. After meeting the monk, you jumped into the river. I thought you were dead, but it seems you arrived here first. Please have mercy on me and spare my life!” Bai Niang widened her eyes and said, “Xiao Yi Guan, I only meant well, but who would have thought it would lead to resentment? We’ve been husband and wife all our lives, sharing many moments of love. Now you believe others’ idle talk and cause discord between us. Let me tell you plainly: if you follow my advice and behave properly, everything will be fine; but if you have ulterior motives, I’ll turn the whole city into a sea of blood—everyone will struggle in the waves and die tragically.” Xu Xuan was terrified and couldn’t speak for a long time, not daring to get any closer. Qingqing urged him, “My lord, your wife loves you because you’re from Hangzhou, and she values your kindness.”

Profound. Listen to me—be on good terms with your wife; don’t harbor doubts.” Xu Xuan couldn’t argue with him and said, “That’s truly hard!” His sister, who was cooling off in the courtyard, heard his complaints and hurried over to the room, thinking the two of them were fighting, so she pulled Xu Xuan out. Bai Niang closed the door and went back to sleep.

Xu Xuan told his sister everything that had happened. Just then, his brother-in-law returned from cooling off and entered the room. His sister said, “The two of them fought; I don’t know if they’ve gone to bed yet. Go check on them.” Li Mushi went to the room and saw it was dark inside, barely lit. He licked the paper window—without opening it, nothing could be done. When he opened it, he saw a python as big as a barrel lying on the bed, its head sticking out through the skylight to cool off. White light emanated from its scales, illuminating the room like daylight. Shocked, he quickly retreated. Back in the room, he didn’t mention what he had seen and said, “They’re asleep; no sound to be heard.” Xu Xuan stayed in his sister’s room, not daring to show himself, and his brother-in-law didn’t ask him anything. The night passed.

The next day, Li Mushi asked Xu Xuan to go outside to a quiet place and asked, “Where did you get your wife? Tell me the truth—don’t lie to me. Last night I saw with my own eyes that she’s a giant white snake. I was afraid your sister would be scared, so I didn’t say anything.”

Xu Xuan recounted the whole story to his brother-in-law. Li Mushi said, “If that’s the case, there’s a man named Master Zhen who catches snakes by special methods in front of the White Horse Temple. I suggest you go and invite him.” The two of them went to the White Horse Temple and saw Master Zhen standing at the entrance. They bowed to him, and he asked, “What can I do for you?” Xu Xuan said, “There’s a giant python in our house. Could you please catch it?” Master Zhen replied, “Where exactly is the house?” Xu Xuan said, “It’s in Hei Zhu Er Alley, past the Jun Jiang Bridge, at Li Mushi’s house.” He took out one or two silver coins and said, “Please take this money. I’ll give you more thanks after you catch the snake.” Master Zhen accepted the money and said, “You two go back first. I’ll be right there.” Li Mushi and Xu Xuan returned.

Master Zhen prepared a bottle of realgar solution and went straight to Hei Zhu Er Alley, looking for Li Mushi’s house. Someone pointed and said, “It’s inside that building ahead.” Master Zhen went to the door, lifted the curtain, and coughed once, but no one came out.

After knocking for a while, a young woman came out and asked, “Who are you looking for?” Master Zhen asked, “Is this Li Mushi’s house?” She replied, “Yes.” He said, “There’s a giant snake in the house. Just now, two gentlemen came to ask me to catch it.” The woman said, “There’s no giant snake in my house. You must be mistaken.” Master Zhen said, “First, give me one or two silver coins. I’ll give you a generous reward after catching the snake.” Bai Niang

The man said, “No, don’t believe them trying to deceive you.” The gentleman asked, “How will you catch it?” Bai Niang, after trying several times without success, grew anxious and said, “Can you really catch snakes? I’m afraid you won’t be able to catch it!” Master Dai replied, “My ancestors have caught snakes for seven or eight generations; surely catching one snake isn’t difficult!” The woman said, “You say you can catch it, but I’m afraid you’ll run away when you see it!” The gentleman said, “I won’t run! If I do, I’ll pay a fine of a tael of silver.” She said, “Come with me.” They went to the courtyard, where she turned and walked inside. Master Dai stood in the open area, holding a bottle in his hand. Before long, a cold wind blew, and along with it came a python as big as a barrel, rushing straight toward him. It was truly the case: humans may not harm tigers, but tigers can hurt humans.

Master Dai was shocked and fell backward; his jar of realgar also broke. The giant snake opened its blood-red mouth, revealing its snow-white teeth, ready to bite him. In panic, he got up quickly, wishing he had two more legs to run across the bridge at full speed. He happened to meet Li Mu Shi and Xu Xuan. Xu Xuan asked, “What happened?” The gentleman recounted everything from start to finish, then took out the tael of silver and gave it to Li Mu Shi, saying, “If I hadn’t had these legs, I would have lost my life. You two go take care of others.” He left in a hurry. Xu Xuan asked, “Brother-in-law, what should we do now?” Li Mu Shi said, “It’s clearly a demon. Zhang Cheng in Chishanbu owes me a thousand guan. Go there and find a quiet place to stay. Once that monster loses track of you, it will leave.” With no other choice, Xu Xuan agreed. When they returned to his home, everything was quiet. Li Mu Shi wrote a letter along with some money and sent it to Xu Xuan, telling him to go to Chishanbu. Then Bai Niang called Xu Xuan into her room and said, “How bold of you! To bring another so-called snake catcher here! If you’re kind to me, I’ll treat you kindly; but if not, you’ll cause suffering to all the people in this city, leading to their deaths!” Hearing this, Xu Xuan was terrified and didn’t dare speak. He took the money but felt extremely distressed. When he arrived in Chishanbu, he found Zhang Cheng. As he reached into his sleeve for the letter, it was gone—he cried out in despair. In a hurry, he turned around and searched for it, but it was nowhere to be found!

Just as he was frustrated, he arrived at Jingci Temple. Suddenly, he remembered what the abbot of Jinshan Temple, Zen master Fahai, had told him: “If that demon comes to Hangzhou again and bothers you, come to Jingci Temple and look for me.” Why wait any longer? He rushed into the temple and asked the abbot, “May I ask, has Zen master Fahai been here?” The abbot replied, “He hasn’t come yet.”

Hsu Hsuan heard that she was not there, feeling even more frustrated, he turned and went back to the end of the long bridge, muttering to himself, “In these times of decline, evil spirits play tricks on people—what’s the use of having a life? Looking at this clear lake, yet I still want to jump in! It’s just as the King of Hell says: you’ll be judged at midnight, and no one will be allowed to live past that hour.” Just as Hsu Hsuan was about to jump in, he heard someone call out from behind him, “Why would a man give up his life so easily? Even if ten thousand people die, it’s still only counted as five thousand pairs—why not ask me for help when you’re in trouble?” Hsu Hsuan turned around and saw Master Fahai, carrying his robes and alms bowl, holding his staff—apparently he had just arrived. It would have been foolish to lose his life; just one more meal later and he would have died anyway. Seeing the master, Hsu Hsuan bowed deeply and said, “Please save my life!” The master asked, “Where is this evil creature?” Hsu Hsuan recounted everything that had happened and said, “Now that I’ve come here, I beg you, master, to save my life.” The master took out a bowl from his sleeve and handed it to Hsu Hsuan, saying, “When you get home, don’t let your wife know. Secretly cover her head with this, be careful not to be gentle, press firmly, and don’t panic. Then you can go back.”

After thanking the master, Hsu Hsuan returned home. There, he saw Bai Niang sitting there, muttering curses, “I don’t know who’s trying to turn my husband against me—once I find out, I’ll deal with them!” It was as if the one who was waiting was patient while the other wasn’t. Hsu Hsuan quickly covered her head from behind, using all his strength to suppress her form until she no longer resembled a human. He then slowly pressed down with the bowl, not daring to loosen his grip. From inside the bowl, he heard her say, “After being husband and wife for so many years, isn’t there any affection left? Let me go a little!” At a loss for what to do, Hsu Hsuan reported, “There’s a monk who said, ‘You need to capture the demon.’” Hearing this, he hurriedly invited the master in. Inside, Hsu Hsuan pleaded, “Please save my life!” He didn’t know what the master was chanting. After finishing, the master gently lifted the bowl, revealing Bai Niang shrunk to seven or eight inches long, like a puppet, with her eyes tightly closed, lying on the ground. The master shouted, “What kind of evil creature are you, daring to haunt people? Explain yourself in detail!” Bai Niang replied, “Master, I am a giant python. Due to the severe storm, I came to West Lake to take shelter, along with Qingqing. Unexpectedly, I met Hsu Hsuan, and my love for him grew uncontrollable. In my haste, I violated the heavenly laws, but I never killed or harmed anyone. Please show mercy, master!” The master asked, “Who is Qingqing?” Bai Niang said, “Qingqing is a green fish that has lived in the pond under the third bridge in West Lake for a thousand years. I met her by chance and brought her as my companion. She hasn’t enjoyed even a single day of happiness—please have mercy on her too!” The master said, “Considering your thousand years of cultivation, I’ll spare your life, but reveal your true form!” Bai Niang refused. The master became furious, chanting something under his breath before shouting, “Where is the truth? Quickly bring me the green fish demon and let the white snake reveal her true form—I’ll decide what to do!” Soon, a fierce wind arose in the courtyard. Wherever the wind blew, there was a loud crackling sound, and something fell from the sky.

The next green fish was over ten feet long; it thrashed and jumped several times before shrinking to a small fish just over a foot long. When she looked at Lady White, she returned to her original form, turning into a three-foot-long white snake, which kept raising its head to gaze at Xu Xuan. The Zen master placed the two creatures in a bowl, tore off a piece of his robe, and sealed the mouth of the bowl. When they arrived at Leifeng Temple, he set the bowl on the ground and had bricks and stones brought to build a pagoda. Later, through Xu Xuan’s efforts, a seven-story treasure pagoda was constructed, and for thousands of years, the white snake and the green fish could not emerge.

The Zen master left behind four warning lines to keep them under control: “When West Lake dries up and the tides cease, when Leifeng Pagoda collapses, then the white snake will emerge.”

After speaking, Master Fahai composed eight more lines of poetry to advise future generations:

People are obsessed with lust; those who love lust are deceived by it. If the heart is pure, evil cannot disturb it. Yet how can harm come when one’s conduct is upright? Just look at Xu Xuan—because of his lust, he got involved in lawsuits and troubles. Had it not been for this old monk to save him, the white snake would have devoured him whole.

After Master Fahai finished reciting, everyone dispersed. Only Xu Xuan wished to become a monk; he bowed to the Zen master as his teacher and became a monk at Leifeng Pagoda. After practicing for several years, he passed away while sitting in meditation one night. The monks bought a niche to burn his body and built a stupa for his remains, ensuring it would remain intact for a thousand years. Before dying, he also wrote eight lines of poetry as a warning to the world, which read:

My master freed me from the mortal world; only when the iron tree blooms does spring appear.
Rebirth after rebirth, transformation after transformation; life after life, birth after birth.
To know whether there is form or no form, one must understand that the formless yet has form.
Form is emptiness, emptiness is form—these must be clearly understood.

Volume 29: Zhang Hao Meets Yingying at Xuxiang Pavilion

In leisure, I ponder ancient and modern times; I’m not plant or grass—how could I have no feelings?
Beautiful women and talented men often have extraordinary encounters, but none compare to Zhang Sheng’s meeting with Li Ying.

It is said that in Xiluo, there was a talented man named Zhang Hao, with the courtesy name Juyuan. From childhood, he was exceptionally handsome. As he grew up, his talent was outstanding, his appearance like frozen ice, his manners graceful, and his speech concise. He inherited his grandfather’s wealth, having tens of thousands of taels of silver, making him wealthy among his peers. Many nobles admired his family background and wanted to arrange marriages for him, but despite constant proposals, Hao firmly refused them. People said to Hao, “You’re now of marriageable age. A man should marry a woman of noble lineage at twenty—what’s the reason for refusing?” Hao replied, “Generally, for a marriage to be successful, it must be perfectly matched. Though I may not be particularly talented, I truly admire beautiful women. If I don’t encounter a peerlessly lovely woman, I’d rather remain single for life. I’ll wait until I achieve something…”

“On the day my name is recorded, perhaps this wish will be fulfilled.” For this reason, even by the age of twenty, he had not yet married. Hao had a nature that favored generosity; he took care of himself well. His residence consisted of multiple connected pavilions with open doors to each other, magnificent and grand, comparable to the homes of princes and nobles. Yet Hao still found it too cramped, so he built another garden to the north of his home. Inside it were: wind pavilions and moon fences, apricot groves and peach orchards, streams winding through, clouds surrounding and resting against the clear sky, water pavilions overlooking the clear waters. There were curved ponds and banks, bridges covered in dew and moonlight and rainbows; red railings with carved pillars, and strange rocks piled up like clouds. Exquisite flowers with bright petals, deep bamboo groves and flower chambers. Rare birds from distant lands flew about, precious fruits were planted in the trees, green lotuses tightly blocked the paths leading to the fragrant blooms, and green willows hung low, framing the grassy areas. On his leisurely days, Hao often spent time feasting with relatives and friends there. According to the customs of the western capital, every spring, gardens of all sizes would plant lotus trees, clean the pavilions, and allow people to come and enjoy them, with everyone competing to outdo one another—a common practice among both scholars and commoners.

In Hao’s neighborhood lived a renowned scholar named Liao Shanfu, who was highly accomplished both in learning and conduct, and could serve as a role model. He shared a very close friendship with Hao. Hao was delighted with his newly completed gardens and lush plants. One day, he invited Shanfu for a stroll through them. They went to the Su Xiang Pavilion and sat down together. It was mid-spring, with peaches and plums in full bloom, red and white flowers surrounding the pavilion steps. Hao said to Shanfu, “The scenery is so beautiful; nothing can better capture such a lovely moment than poetry and wine. Since we have no trivial matters today, let’s drink a few cups first, then each of us write a poem about what we see before us. Though our gardens may not be as splendid as yours, if we can create poems that capture this beauty, they will remain a lasting masterpiece.” Shanfu replied, “I’m at your service.” Delighted, Hao called a servant to bring drinks, utensils, brushes, and ink. After three rounds of drinking, just as he was about to give them a topic, suddenly they saw something flying away among the flowers below the pavilion. Shanfu asked, “The sound is interesting—why did it fly away?” Hao replied, “It must be some visitor who stole a flower. Let’s go take a look.” They descended from the Su Xiang Pavilion and entered the shade of the flowers, moving quietly to follow the trace. Passing by a rock shaped like a lake and a peony fence, they saw a girl with long hair, about fifteen years old, wearing a light green dress, standing by the railing. Her eyebrows were framed by a crescent moon, her face touched by spring peaches; her demeanor was delicate, her skin as soft as jade glowing with radiance. She stepped lightly, her embroidered shoes clicking softly; her twin buns hung down, adorned with short purple gold pins. It seemed she was showing off her beauty to the god of spring, smiling at the peony bushes.

At first sight, Hao was utterly captivated and unable to control himself. Fearing that the girl might be startled and leave, he led Shanfu back behind the flowers and watched her for a long time—truly a beauty beyond this world. He told Shanfu, “There is no such beauty in the mortal world; she must be a fairy from the world of flowers and moonlight!” Shanfu replied, “A fairy from the world of flowers and moonlight wouldn’t dare appear in daylight. There are many beautiful women in the world; those without fate simply don’t meet them.” Hao said, “I’ve met many people, but I’ve never seen such extraordinary beauty. If I could marry her, it would bring great joy to my life. What advice do you have to help me achieve this soon? That would be as kind as giving birth to me!” Shanfu said, “With your family background and talents, finding a spouse is as easy as turning over one’s hand—why worry so much?” Hao replied, “That’s not right. If I didn’t meet her, I’d rather stay unmarried for life. Now that I’ve met her, I can hardly wait even for a moment. If we use matchmakers, it will take years—”

“I’m already at the Withered Fish Shop!” Shan Fu said, “The only concern is whether we’ll get along; if that’s possible, what’s there to worry about regarding timing? Let me first find out where she is, and then we can plan something.” At that moment, Hao couldn’t hold back his feelings, so he adjusted his proper clothes and stepped forward to bow. The woman folded her sleeves as a response to his greeting. Hao asked her, “Which noble family do you belong to? What brought you here?” The woman smiled and said, “I am your family’s eastern neighbor. Today, everyone of appropriate age went to visit relatives, but I stayed behind. Hearing that the peonies in your house are in full bloom, I sneaked in through a gap in the door with my maid.” Hearing this, Hao realized she was Li Shi’s daughter, Rong Ying, who had played with him as children by the railing. He said to her again, “My garden is desolate and not worth seeing. I do have a small pavilion, where I could prepare some wine to welcome neighbors as a host. How about that?” She replied, “I came here mainly to see you. If you insist on offering something, I certainly wouldn’t accept it. Please don’t think it’s presumptuous of me to express my feelings briefly.” Hao bowed deeply and said, “I’m eager to hear your advice!” She continued, “Since childhood, I’ve admired your noble character. But due to strict family rules, I never had the chance to meet you. Now that you’re still unmarried and I’m also of marriageable age, if you won’t reject me because of my plain appearance, would you consider acting as a matchmaker so that one day I might serve you, support my in-laws, maintain harmony with relatives, and bring prosperity to our two families—free from the seven reasons for divorce? That’s my sincere wish. I wonder if you’d be willing to agree?”

Hearing this, Hao was overjoyed. He told her, “If I could grow old with such a beautiful woman, that would be enough joy for a lifetime! But I’m not sure about our fate.” She replied, “If both of our hearts are firm, fate will take its course. If you truly agree, I hope you’ll give me something as a token, something I can keep to remember today’s meeting.” Since Hao had nothing on hand immediately, he took a purple silk sash tied around his waist and gave it to her, saying, “Take this as a promise.” She also took a fragrant silk scarf and asked Hao to write a poem on it in his own handwriting, so it could serve as proof in the future. Delighted, Hao called for a servant to bring ink and paper, and using the unopened peonies in the garden as inspiration, he wrote a short poem on the silk scarf:

By the Incense-Scented Pavilion, dew clings to the branches;
Beneath its beauty, it holds its charm, yet does not bloom.
Such a famous flower awaits a skilled hand;
A talented scholar writes verses alone.

The woman was thrilled upon seeing the poem. Holding the silk scarf, she said to Hao, “Your verses are exquisite and full of depth—truly a sign of great talent. We must keep this a secret and not let anyone know. Don’t forget today’s words; I’ll surely make our future together a happy one. My parents may be waiting for me, so I must go now.” With that, she turned gracefully and left slowly with her maid.

At that time, Hao was filled with desire and couldn’t restrain himself. He thought, “If I don’t chase after her now, it will be hard to meet her again. How can I bear to leave her? Under the shade of mixed flowers, with grass like a carpet, let’s act like mandarin ducks—even in death, I’ll have no regrets!” So he rushed after her and embraced her. The woman, moved by his affection, didn’t want to walk away. Just as she was about to speak...

With a few words of farewell, she shyly requested to leave. Suddenly, someone from behind said, “Meeting in this manner is not proper; this must not happen! If you would listen to my advice, you can enjoy harmony for a lifetime.” Hao turned to look—it was Shanfu. The woman had already gone. Shanfu said, “The purpose of studying is to understand proper conduct and avoid offense. Now that you study the teachings of Confucius, why do you adopt the behavior of a petty person? If I delay her departure and her parents return first, they will surely inquire where she went, and then trouble will befall you as well. How can you indulge in momentary pleasure at the expense of lifelong virtue? Please think carefully—it might lead to regret!” Having no choice, Hao quickly returned to Xiangxiang Pavilion, where he got drunk with Shanfu before parting.

From then on, Hao would only sing without speaking, lacking joy when drinking wine. He would sigh under the moonlight and shed tears in front of the flowers. Soon, the greenery faded and the red blossoms thinned as spring drew to an end. One day, Hao walked alone in his study, lost in thought. Overwhelmed by sorrow of separation, wishing he had someone to confide in, an old nun named Huiji came from outside—she was a nun from Hao’s family’s temple. After greeting her properly, Hao asked, “Where did my teacher come from?” Huiji replied, “I’ve come specifically to deliver a message.” Hao asked, “Who sends their regards to me?” Huiji sat closer and said to Hao, “The girl from the Li family, your eastern neighbor, Yingying, has sent word several times.” Hao was shocked and said to Huiji, “Is that really possible? Please don’t mention it!” Huiji replied, “Why hide this? Let me explain: The Li family has been followers of mine for over twenty years, with everyone in the family believing in me. Today, while going to their house to recite scriptures, I learned that their daughter Yingying is ill. I advised them to let her take medicine diligently. Yingying kept her maids away and privately told me, ‘Can this illness be cured by medicine?’ After asking further, she recounted the encounter between you two in the garden. She also took out a poem from her sleeve and said to me, ‘This was written by you. Please pass on my regards to you and do not forget us—let’s hope to meet again.’ This is what Yingying and I discussed. Why hide it?” Hao said, “It’s true. I’m not hiding it, but I’m afraid it might spread false rumors and bring ridicule. Now that my teacher knows, what should I do?” Huiji replied, “Since I knew about this early on, I’ve already spoken to Yingying’s parents about marriage. They said, ‘Our daughter is still young and not ready to manage a household.’ It seems they plan to discuss marriage in two or three years—let’s see how fate unfolds.” With that, she stood up and said to Hao, “My little temple is busy, so we can’t talk at length. If you want to send messages in the future, just give me instructions.” Then they parted. From then on, all their secret feelings and longing were conveyed through Huiji.

Time passed swiftly, and in the blink of an eye, a year had gone by. The Qingming Festival had passed, peach and plum blossoms had fallen, and half of the peonies were withered. Hao leaned on the railing, gazing at the surroundings and thinking of her, his emotions growing deeper. After a while, recalling how they had met by the flowers last year at this time, and now that the flowers had bloomed again while she was out of reach, he decided to pick a few branches and ask Huiji to give them to Yingying for her to enjoy. He called Huiji over and said, “I’ve picked a few branches of flowers. Please take them to the Li family and say they’re from me. If you see Yingying, convey Hao’s greetings: Last year, when the flowers bloomed, we met by the western railing; now the flowers are blooming again, yet we’re still separated. My thoughts of you are beyond words! May we grow like leaves and flowers, year after year.”

They met. Ji said, “This is easy to arrange. You may wait a while.” Then she took the flowers and left. After some time, she returned, and Hao welcomed her and asked, “How did it go?”

Ji took out a colorful note from her sleeve and told Hao, “It’s from Yingying for you. Please don’t show it to anyone else!” Then Ji left. Hao sealed it and read it, saying, “I, Yingying, bow to you: After years apart, I think of you every single day. I previously asked my wet nurse to discuss marriage with your parents, but they firmly refused. We must plan carefully; we can’t act hastily. Please don’t forget me—I will never betray you! If our marriage doesn’t happen, I swear not to marry anyone else. For other matters, you can ask Ji. Last night, at the flower party, everyone was laughing, but I was alone in sorrow. I wrote these few lines to express my feelings. Read them, and you’ll understand my heart. Destroy them after reading—please don’t let anyone else see them! The poem goes:

“The blossoms are red and sparse, green and dense; still, it’s a weary day. In deep longing, I gaze at the moon, shedding tears before the flowers. I know we both have our wishes, yet we’re separated right now. Without a chance to be together, these quiet nights are most painful. Why does the moon reach fullness so soon?”

After reading it, Hao frowned and sighed deeply, saying, “Good things take time—this is truly true!” He placed the note on the table, holding it over and over, unable to part with it. Overwhelmed with emotion, tears streamed down his face. Fearing that his family might suspect something, he asked why and then covered his face, hiding in silence.

After a long while, he raised his head and saw that dusk had fallen, as indicated by the shadows under the window. Remembering the words in the letter, “You can ask Ji about my feelings,” he sat there in sorrow. It would be better to consult Ji and find out more details, perhaps to ease his heartache. So he slowly stepped outside. Passing by the Li family’s house, it was already night, and all the doors were closed. Thinking of Yingying, filled with affection, he couldn’t move forward. Pointing at the Li family’s door, he said, “Without wings to fly among the clouds, how can I enter here?” As he hesitated, not daring to go in, he suddenly saw a slightly open door nearby, with no one around. Overjoyed, he thought, “Heaven has given me this opportunity—this will make our reunion possible! Instead of relying on Ji, I’d better sneak in and find out how Yingying is.” Driven by love, he ignored propriety and slipped inside. Once in the main hall, he hid beneath the corridor, looking around. He saw:

The courtyard was quiet, the inner yard deep in darkness. In the stillness, he heard the wind rustling; in the dim light, he saw fireflies coming and going. Time passed quickly—the wind blew the lamp in the window; dusk had fallen, and the moon cast shadows on the flowers below. Her boudoir must be behind the screen-covered mountain, seemingly as distant as the countless layers of Wuyang.

Here, Hao was at a loss, not knowing where to go. After standing alone for a long time, he began to ponder what to do if his plans were discovered. Not only would he suffer personally, but he would also bring shame upon his ancestors—this matter needed careful consideration. Unexpectedly, the door was already closed. Turning back along the corridor, about to find his way back, he suddenly heard soft singing coming from inside the room. Thinking it was strange to have someone singing alone in the quiet night, he hid aside and listened carefully to the lyrics, which were from the poem “Xing Xiang Zi”:

After the rain, the wind is gentle; greenery fades, reds are scarce. Swallows build nests, butterflies circle the withered branches. Poplar fluff, dot by dot—days drag on endlessly. It stirs feelings of separation, brings sorrow of parting, and the cranes cry in the marshes. I’ve failed our promised time, wasted this beautiful season—why strip off my silk robes? Beneath the Fragrant Incense Pavilion, west of the red peony trellis. The feelings of then, the hatred of now—who knows!

It felt as though a young bird was chirping in the shade of green willows, while colorful phoenixes sang on the branches of green parasol trees. Since it was a quiet night with no one around, the melody sounded even more beautiful. Hao analyzed the words and meaning—unless it was Yingying, who else could know about the appointment at the Fragrant Incense Pavilion? If only he could see her face, he would die without regret. Just as he was about to knock on the window to ask further, someone shouted at him, “A gentleman doesn’t seek marriage without a matchmaker, and a woman doesn’t marry without reason. Now, a girl sings from behind the window while a boy climbs over the wall to the courtyard—both are improper acts that disgrace human relations. We’ll report this to the authorities as a warning against promiscuous behavior.” Hao was shocked and stepped back, tripping and falling down the steps. It took some time before he regained consciousness. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he had been sleeping at his desk under the study window, and it was almost time for meals.

Hao said, “What a strange dream! How vivid it was! Could it be that there’s an arranged meeting, and thus a good omen has been sent to me first?” Still troubled and undecided, Hui Ji returned. Hao asked him what happened. Ji said, “I just brought a small note and left. There’s one thing I accidentally forgot to tell you. Yingying says that behind the house where she lives is your family’s east wall, several feet high. On the 20th day of early summer, there will be a wedding in her family, and everyone will go that evening. She pretended to be sick and won’t go. She asks you to wait below the wall on that day, intending to climb over to meet you—please remember this.” Hui Ji left, and Hao’s heart swelled with joy. In just a few days, the appointed time had arrived. He set up tents, prepared drinks and various items, all arranged in the Fragrant Incense Pavilion. As dusk fell, he sent all the servants away, leaving only a few. He closed the garden gate, leaned against the ladder near the wall, and waited quietly.

Before long, the sunset disappeared behind the willows, darkness settled among the flowers, the stars pointed south, and the first drumbeat of night rang out. Hao said, “Could Hui Ji’s words be a hint for me?” Before he could finish speaking, a woman with freshly applied makeup appeared, half-emerging from above the low wall. Hao looked up and saw it was Yingying. He quickly climbed down the ladder, took her hand, and they went together to the Fragrant Incense Pavilion. Sitting by the lit candles, Hao examined Yingying closely, his joy growing even greater. He said to her, “I never thought such a beautiful woman would actually come here!” Yingying replied, “I once wanted to live a life within the confines of marriage, but how could I do so today?” Hao asked, “Would you drink a little wine to celebrate this wonderful evening together?” Yingying said, “I can’t resist alcohol; I’m afraid I’ll offend my parents tomorrow.”

Hao said, “Since we won’t drink wine, how about taking a short rest?” Ying laughed and leaned against Hao’s chest, too shy to speak. Hao then untied his belt and lay down with her. What they saw was:

The precious lantern cast a red glow; silk curtains were drawn tightly shut. Sweet gauze drapes hung low. They shared a pillow like twin flounder fish in the waves; they ate fragrant food together as if pairs of silkworms spinning cocoons. Their affection was especially intense, her slender waist trembling with shyness.

After a while, sweat covered them both as they lay close, breathing heavily. Even the dreams of King Chu about the goddesses, or Liu and Ruan’s journey to the Peach Blossom Spring—none could compare to their joy together. Soon, Ying said to Hao, “It’s getting late; I must go now.” Hao didn’t dare keep her, so they both got dressed and rose. Hao said to her, “Our next meeting is uncertain; please take care of yourself!” Ying replied, “Last year we met by chance, and you even wrote a poem for me. Tonight I’ve slept beside you—why no word from you? Am I such an unworthy person not worthy of your beautiful verses?” Hao smiled and thanked her, saying, “How could that be! Allow me to compose a short poem for you: ‘Beautiful dreams of love are but tales heard; fame comes from actions like Jiang Zuo unfastening his jade.’ How many things happened in one night under the eastern eaves! Han Sheng has wasted his reputation for stealing fragrance.’”

Receiving the poem, Ying said to Hao, “My body now belongs to you; please keep it until the end.” She then led him to a pavilion beneath the trees, through willows and flowers, to the wall, where Hao helped her climb up and leave.

From then on, though they kept in touch, it was difficult to meet. A few days later, Hui Ji came and said, “Yingying sends her regards. Her father is an official in Heishuo; he’ll be leaving soon. Please don’t forget her. When he returns, we can discuss marriage arrangements between our families.” After Hui Ji left, Hao was filled with sorrow, feeling each day as if it were a year, consumed by regret.

Two years passed. One day, Hao’s uncle summoned him and said, “I’ve heard that unfilialness is greatest when there are no heirs. You’re approaching marriage age yet still unmarried. Though you’re not completely without heirs, household affairs still need attention. There’s a family named Sun—they’ve been officials for generations, with wealthy estates. Their daughter is of marriageable age, raised according to family traditions, well-versed in womanly duties. I want to arrange your marriage to her. If you lose her, there will be no honorable lineage in the future.” Hao always feared his uncle’s harsh nature and dared not resist. Nor could he openly mention Li’s family, so he allowed the matchmaker to arrange the union with the Sun family. The wedding was set for a certain day, but the father of Ying’s suitor would only return after completing his term. Unable to forget his past feelings, Hao sent Hui Ji secretly to tell Ying, “It’s not that I’ve changed heart—I’m forced by my uncle to marry the Sun family. Breaking my promise pains me deeply!” Ying told Hui Ji, “I know what my uncle is doing. I’ll surely manage things on my own.” Hui Ji replied, “Do it well!” and left.

The oriole’s parents said, “Our son has committed grave faults and brought shame to our family. We wish to speak first before asking for his death.”
Alarmed, her parents asked, “Why does our son suffer like this?” The oriole replied, “Since childhood, I have admired Zhang Hao from next door for his talent and reputation. I even promised to spend my life with him. I asked my wet nurse to inform my parents so we could arrange a marriage, but they refused out of respect. Now that I hear Zhang Hao has married Sun’s daughter and abandoned me, where shall I go? My reputation is ruined; I cannot marry anyone else. If this wish is not fulfilled, I will end my life with a smile.” Her parents exclaimed in shock, “We only have one daughter, and we regret not being able to choose a good husband for her. If we had known earlier, we could have discussed it. But now that Zhang Hao is married, what can we do?”
The oriole said, “If my parents agree to let me return to Zhang Hao, then I can handle things myself.” Her father said, “As long as the marriage goes through, we won’t ask any questions.”

The oriole said, “If that’s the case, allow me to take my case to the authorities.” She then took paper to write a complaint, got dressed neatly, applied makeup, and went straight to the court in Henan Prefecture.

Chen Gongfang, the official in charge of cases at the Longtu Pavilion, was handling a case at his desk when he saw a woman approaching with a complaint. He put down his pen and asked, “What’s the matter?” The oriole bowed respectfully and said, “I may be wrong, but I have written this complaint to submit to you.” He ordered his assistants to take the complaint and read it.

Complaint by Li, the oriole:
I have heard the saying, “A woman should not marry without a matchmaker.” Though this is a common belief, there are exceptions. For example, Wenjun loved Sima, and Jia Wu admired Han Shou. Both of these women eloped secretly, yet they were not criticized for marrying without a matchmaker. This is because their husbands were worthy men, whose virtues were recorded in history, serving as an example for future generations to avoid marrying mediocre people. Last year, I admired Zhang Hao from next door for his talent and promised to spend my life with him. Our agreement was firm, and I vowed never to change it. Now, Zhang Hao has suddenly broken his promise, leaving me with no one to turn to. I know that laws exist to uphold justice, and traditions reflect human feelings. Without the wise judgment of the judge, how can I survive alone for the rest of my life? Out of shame, I come before you, hoping for your kindness in resolving this matter.

After reading the complaint, Chen Gongfang asked the oriole, “You say you had a private agreement—what evidence do you have?” She took out a fragrant silk scarf from her bosom along with two poems written by Zhang Hao. Chen Gongfang ordered Zhang Hao to be brought before the court and questioned him about his marriage to Li. How could he marry Sun’s daughter after already being engaged to her? Zhang Hao stammered, claiming he was forced by his uncle, but it wasn’t his true intention. Chen Gongfang then asked the oriole, “What do you want?” She replied, “Zhang Hao is indeed a worthy husband. If I can marry him, I will fulfill my duties as a wife wholeheartedly. It would be truly kind of you to arrange this marriage.” Chen Gongfang said, “Heaven creates talented men and beautiful women so they shouldn’t be left alone. I will help you two get married.” Then he wrote his decision at the end of the complaint.

Meeting beneath the flowers, they made a vow for life together; stopping halfway, they failed to fulfill their promise of growing old side by side. Since true sincerity has been shown, even the laws forbid such actions. It is proper to follow the prior agreement, and subsequent marriage can be terminated.

After rendering the judgment, he said to Hao, “I now rule that you shall marry Lady Li.” Both were overjoyed and thanked the judge for his kindness. They then became husband and wife and lived together happily for a hundred years. They had two sons, both of whom achieved high ranks in the examinations. This story is titled “Zhang Hao Meets Yingying at the Incense Pavilion.”

In those days, Cui relied on Zhang; today, Zhang relies on Li Ying. Both are tales of romantic love through the ages, but the Incense Pavilion surpasses The Western Chamber.

Volume Thirty: Wu Qing Meets Love at Jinming Pool

Zhu Wen meets Liu Qian by the lamp light; Shi Hou meets an old friend in Yanshan.

No matter how separated by life and death, true affection remains the most precious thing in the world.

It is said that during the Zhonghe era of the Tang Dynasty, there was a talented man from Boling named Cui Hu. He was handsome and elegant, with unparalleled talent and beauty.

When the imperial examinations were announced, he packed his zither, sword, and books and headed to Chang’an to take part. It was late spring, and Cui temporarily left his inn to stroll in the southern suburbs. He felt thirsty and parched, with dry lips and a hot nose. Having walked quickly, he was also feeling hot.

Thirsty as he was and with no stream nearby to fetch water, he saw a place where peach blossoms were as red as fire, and willows were as green as mist. There were bamboo fences, thatched cottages, yellow walls, white doors, dogs barking in what seemed like a paradise, and pairs of orioles singing among the green willows.

Cui knocked on the door, hoping to get some water. He stood there for half a day without anyone coming out. Just when he was at a loss, he heard laughter inside. Peeking through the crack, he saw a girl, about sixteen years old. She came out to open the door. Upon seeing her, Cui felt even more thirsty, with dry lips and a hot nose.

He quickly bowed forward and said, “Young lady, please accept my respects.” The girl replied with a sweet greeting, “Sir, why do you grace my humble abode? What can I do for you?” Cui said, “I am Cui Hu from Boling. There’s nothing special—just that I’m exhausted from walking and could use a spoonful of water to quench my thirst.” The girl said nothing at first, then quickly went inside and brought back a cup filled with tea, handing it to Cui. He took it and drank.

The coolness seemed to penetrate to the heart—it was truly refreshing! He could only express his gratitude and return home. Thinking of fame and success, he set out to take the exams. Yet fate had not favored him; his name wasn’t on the list of successful candidates. Leaving Chang’an, he hurried back.

A year passed, and another examination was held. Cui set out to take it again. Missing his old friend, he put aside his exam preparations and rushed to the south of the city. Along the way, he looked around anxiously, fearing he might mistake her residence. Soon he reached the door—still surrounded by pink peach blossoms and green willows, with dogs barking and birds chirping. When he arrived at the door, he saw no one there, which puzzled him. Peeking through the crack, he heard no sound. After hesitating for a while, he wrote a poem on the white door:

“On this day last year, here by this door,
Her face and peach blossoms shone in hue.
Where has her face gone? The peach blossoms still smile in spring’s breeze.”

After writing it, he left. The next day, worried, he went back to check. Suddenly, the door opened, and a man stepped out. He had white hair and sparse eyebrows, wearing a white robe and holding a bamboo staff. He resembled one of the Four Sages of Mount Shang, or like a fisherman by the Yi River.

The old man asked Cui, “Aren’t you Cui Hu?” Cui replied, “I am indeed Cui Hu. How do you know me?” The old man said, “You killed my daughter. How can you not remember?” Cui’s face turned pale in shock. “I’ve never been to your house. How can you say such a thing?” The old man replied, “Last year, my daughter was alone at home when you came looking for water. After that, she was dazed as if drunk, unable to leave her bed. Yesterday, she suddenly said, ‘I met Young Master Cui on this day last year. He must be here today.’ She went to the door, glanced outside, but saw nothing. Then she looked up and saw the poem on the door. She cried loudly and collapsed. I carried her back to her room, where she remained unconscious all night. This morning, she suddenly opened her eyes and said, ‘Young Master Cui has come. Father, go greet him.’ Now that you’re really here, isn’t it fate? Come in and take a look.” But as soon as Cui entered, a cry came from inside. Upon closer inspection, he found his daughter dead. The old man said, “This time, you truly must atone for your crime!”

Overwhelmed with shock and grief, Cui went to the bed, sat beside his daughter, gently lifted her head, stretched out his legs, placed her head on them, and kissed her face, saying, “My dear, Cui Hu is here!” In moments, her soul returned, and she soon got up. The old man was overjoyed and arranged a marriage between them. Later, Cui became an official, and the couple lived happily together—just as the saying goes: The moon waxes full again after being missing; mirrors reunite after being separated; flowers bloom again after falling; and the dead come back to life.

Why is this said today? It’s an example of surviving against all odds. There was a passionate daughter who, unable to succeed with the man she loved, lost her life only to become someone else’s bride on their wedding night. As the saying goes: When fate permits, lovers can meet even from afar; when not, they won’t meet even face to face.

The man this daughter met was a wealthy man from Kaifeng in the Song Dynasty, named Wu Zixu. He was a genuine man who had only one son, named Wu Qing. Deeply fond of his son, he wouldn’t let him go outside even for a day. Yet Wu Qing was a lively and adventurous young man who wanted to make friends and enjoy the pleasures of life. One day, two friends came to visit—both were noble descendants, sons of Zhao Bajie, a high-ranking official. The elder brother was named Yingzhi, and the younger one Maozhi; both were very generous. They asked the servant to announce their arrival. Wu Qing went out to greet them and they sat down together. After serving tea, he asked, “I’m honored by your visit. What brings you here?”

The two replied, “It’s the Qingming Festival now. The Jinming Pool is filled with people of all ages. We’d like to go there with you. What do you think?” Wu Qing was overjoyed and said, “I’m grateful that you’ve chosen to accompany me despite my humble status.” He then ordered his servants to prepare wine, food, and three horses so he could go with them. Soon they arrived at Jinming Pool. Scholar Tao Gu wrote a poem about it:

Thousands of seats under the stars,
Awake from drunkenness, surrounded by green mist.
Nine layers of palaces hidden in clouds,
Sunlight illuminating all colors.
Painted bridges seem to descend from heaven,
Tourists stroll like reflections in a mirror.
The emperor comes for the dragon boat feast,
Celebrations echoed beyond the flowers.

The three of them wandered around the pool. They saw peach blossoms as red as brocade, willows as green as smoke. Butterflies flitted among the flowers, and orioles sang in pairs on the branches. People came in groups to enjoy the scenery.

They drank some wine in a quiet spot. Wu Qing said, “The weather is wonderful today. It’s a shame there’s no one to share this wine with.” The two Zhao brothers replied, “There’s enough wine. It’s better to stroll around and watch the people than to sit idle.” The three walked together. After taking a few steps, they suddenly smelled a sweet fragrance, like orchids mixed with perfume. Wu Qing followed the scent and saw a group of women, each as beautiful as a flower in full bloom. Among them was a young lady, about five or six years old, wearing an apricot-yellow dress. What did she look like?

Her eyes were like autumn waters, her brows like spring mountains; her hair resembled piles of clouds, and her feet were like lotus petals. Two cherries divided her lips, and her slender waist rivaled that of a willow branch. Before one could fully appreciate her warm charm, one could already see her great beauty.

When Wu Xiaoyuanwai saw her, he felt a thrill run through his body and rushed forward. But the two Zhao brothers pulled him back, saying, “She’s a lady from a respectable family; you shouldn’t tease her. There are too many eyes and ears around—this could bring trouble.” Although Wu Xiaoyuanwai agreed, he seemed to have lost his soul. The young lady went away with the other ladies. Wu Xiaoyuanwai parted ways with the two Zhao brothers and returned home, unable to sleep all night, thinking, “What a perfectly beautiful young lady! I wish I had asked where she lived and what her name was. If I could find out, I might ask a matchmaker to arrange a meeting—there’s a slim chance.” The next day, still worried, he put on neat clothes and, together with the two Zhao brothers, went to Jinming Pool to look for the young lady from the previous day. The path where she had been was there, but the person who walked there in the rain was nowhere to be seen.

Wu Xiaoyuanwai searched among the crowd but couldn’t find the young lady from the day before, feeling displeased. Zhao Eldest said, “You seem unhappy; it seems your desire to enjoy spring has not been fulfilled. There are many young women in the taverns here. Let my younger brother accompany you. If you find someone you like, we can buy three drinks as a way to experience spring, how about that?” Wu Xiaoyuanwai replied, “I don’t care about those old prostitutes—withered flowers and broken willows.” Zhao Second said, “There’s a small tavern on the fifth house north of the street; it’s quite elegant. There’s a girl who serves drinks—very beautiful, around twenty years old, but she doesn’t come out often.” Wu Xiaoyuanwai gladly said, “Please show me.” The three of them went north and indeed found a small tavern, surrounded by flowers and bamboo, with tables and dishes inside. Zhao Second pointed and said, “That’s the place.”

The three entered, but there was no sound. They called out, “Is anyone here? Is anyone here?” After a while, a delicate and charming girl appeared—about fifteen or sixteen years old, like a blooming flower. When the three young men saw her, they bowed deeply, saying, “Young lady, we bow to you.” The charming girl, seeing the three young men, felt a stir of affection she couldn’t suppress. She stepped forward, but hesitated to enter. She sat down next to the three young men and asked the server to bring wine. How happy they were! The four of them gathered together. Just as they raised their cups, they heard the sound of donkey hooves and cart wheels—it was the girl’s parents returning from the grave. Disappointed, the three left.

As spring faded and further visits became impossible, their thoughts of her continued, appearing in their dreams. In the blink of an eye, another year passed. The three young men met again without prior arrangement to look for her. When they arrived, the place was deserted, and they didn’t know where the person they were looking for was. After resting for a while and trying to find some information, they saw the old man and old woman from before...

The son was about to come out. The three men said, “Dear sir, please give us some wine.” They then asked, “Sir, last year we saw a young girl here measuring wine. Why isn’t she here today?” Hearing this, the old man burst into tears. “My lord,” he said, “my surname is Lu and my name is Rong. That girl you saw was my daughter, whose nickname was Ai’ai. Last year on this very day, our whole family went to visit graves. Somehow, three rude men appeared and drank with her. When I returned, they left. I don’t know what happened afterward. I scolded them a little for their bad behavior, but my daughter, being sensitive by nature, became extremely upset, refused to eat or drink, and died within a few days. That small hill behind this house is where my daughter is buried.” As he spoke, tears streamed down his face again. The three men didn’t dare ask any more questions. They quickly paid for the wine, mounted their horses, and rode away filled with sorrow. They kept looking back, tears streaming down their faces—how could they feel at ease? It was truly as the saying goes: “At night, noise ceases; only the moon shines over ponds and terraces. There’s no reason to linger in such beauty; once dawn comes, new troubles arise.”

As the three men were on their way, they seemed to see a woman wearing a plain silk veil over her head and a red handkerchief across her chest. She staggered forward and backward, glancing at them and bowing softly. The three men were stunned, not knowing what to do. They thought she might be a ghost, but her clothes had seams and an outline on the ground; they thought it might be a dream, yet they felt pain when they pinched themselves. The woman said, “Do you recognize me, my lord? I’m the same person from Jinming Pond last year. You came to look for me today, but my parents lied, claiming I was dead and built ten fake graves to deceive you. I thought we must have had a connection in a past life, and I’m glad we met again. Now I live in a small building in a quiet alley in the city—it’s quite comfortable. If you’re not too busy, please come and visit me.” The three men dismounted and followed her. In no time, they arrived at a place. When they entered, they saw a small building surrounded by gardens, with delicate curtains concealing the spring scenery. Red curtains framed the scene, and colorful canopies adorned the curved pavilions. It was half light, half dark, with people hidden among the foliage; everything was green and red, filled with the beauty of spring.

Upon reaching the upstairs room, the daughter called, “Ying’er, bring some wine to celebrate with these three brothers-in-law.” Soon, the wine arrived, and they drank heartily. The daughter was very skillful—she sang a sweet song, danced gracefully, played the zither skillfully, and said affectionate words. After drinking their fill, the two brothers parted ways. Wu Xiaoyuan turned around, put his arms around his daughter’s shoulders, hugged her waist, and held her delicate hands. With drunken eyes, he thought the floor was a bed and hurriedly engaged in intimate acts. Truly, it was as if: “The spring robe was taken off, the embroidered quilt was spread out; her soft breasts resembled snow-covered plum blossoms, and her slender feet looked like crescent moons. Before the peach blossoms opened, how could she resist the playful butterflies? With the flower’s heart already slightly bent, she couldn’t stop the wild bees from buzzing around. They lay there, covered in sweat, breathing heavily together.”

They slept until dawn, then got up, washed up, and had some breakfast. The couple talked nonstop, unwilling to part. Wu Xiaoyuan burned incense and swore an oath, biting his arm as a pledge. Only then did the daughter cover her face and smile before going inside.

Young Master Wu returned home feeling gloomy all the way, and when he saw his parents, he said, “Father and mother, where did I spend last night? It kept me awake all night; I had all sorts of chaotic dreams.” The young master replied, “I must tell you, father and mother, two friends of mine are members of the royal family, and they asked me to stay with them, so I had no choice but to agree.” Seeing that they were royalty and had even come to visit before, his parents didn’t doubt him. Yet love is something beyond explanation. Here’s a poem to prove it:

Bells ring in the thorny woods, towers stand tall;
Songs fill the air under the stars.
Before laughter fades, parting comes;
Once again, thorns grow in their place.

The young master and his daughter were deeply in love, truly a perfect match. You see, when a young man like a sprout meets a beautiful girl in the prime of spring, it’s just as described: A graceful maiden in the bloom of spring, a talented youth at the height of his youth.

Driven by love, the young master couldn’t wait more than a couple of days before going to spend the night with his daughter. But whenever he saw her, he felt full of energy and his appearance seemed brighter than usual; yet as soon as he returned home, his complexion turned pale, his looks wasted, gradually becoming almost ghostly, no longer resembling a human. He lost his appetite and refused to eat or take medicine. Seeing his son in such condition, his parents, bound by deep filial affection, ignored both friendship and the status of those royal relatives. They went to invite the two brothers Zhao and said, “We don’t know where you took my son the other day—now he’s seriously ill. If you can cure him, we won’t say a word; but if anything goes wrong, we’ll have no choice but to appeal for justice, and then it will be the old man’s fault.” After hearing this, the two brothers whispered anxiously, “Though we’re of noble birth, the rules are extremely strict: if our children are virtuous, we’re treated like ordinary people; but if there are any shortcomings, we face severe punishment. If this old man sues us, it will definitely harm us.” They quickly replied, “Father-in-law, your son’s illness isn’t our fault.” Then they recounted everything about meeting that charming girl at the Jinmingchi tavern. The old man was shocked and said, “In that case, my son must be possessed by a ghost! Do you have any good plan to save him?” The two brothers said, “There’s a sage named Huangfu who possesses talismans and swords to fight demons. We must invite him to perform a ritual and drive away this evil spirit so that your son can be safe.” The old man thanked them, saying, “It all depends on you two.” The two set off right away. It was as if a green dragon and a white tiger traveled together—fortune and misfortune could happen at any moment.

On their journey, they arrived at a mountain deep among white clouds, where they saw a thatched cottage: its roof covered in yellow reeds, its walls built with white stones. Cranes flew back in the shaded pines, and turtles emerged from a small pond in the sunlight. Green willows and phoenix trees lined the path, while black monkeys and white cranes greeted them at the door.

In an instant, a young monk came out of the hermitage and said, “Are you two here to ask my master to save someone?”
The two replied, “That’s right. Please inform him at once.” The young monk said, “If it’s not some other illness, my master won’t go. He only deals with the demon of lust. But why? Lust can bring people to life as well as kill them. Life is the essence of Taoism, while death is something Taoists avoid.” The two said, “Exactly! We need him to cut off the demon of lust and save this person from death.” The young monk hurried off to summon Master Huangfu. When Master Huangfu heard what the young monk had said, he said, “I may go.” They all went together to Wu Yuanwai’s house. As soon as they reached the door, he said, “This house is covered in demonic energy, yet there’s a sign of life inside.” Just then, the young master came out to greet them. Master Huangfu was shocked and said, “The demonic energy is very strong! There’s only one way to save them—by great risk.” The old couple knelt down and begged Master Huangfu, “Please use your magic to save our lives!” Master Huangfu said, “Do as I say: hurry to a place 300 miles to the west. Once there, the demon will surely arrive first. If, after 120 days, the demon still doesn’t show up, Yuanwai must accept his fate—there’s no way to save him!” Yuanwai agreed. They prepared simple meals and invited Master Huangfu to eat before parting ways. Yuanwai quickly packed his belongings and headed west to Henan Prefecture to escape death. As the saying goes, “One’s fate is predetermined; life and death are beyond human control.”

The young master asked two gentlemen surnamed Zhao to accompany him. Along the way, they climbed mountains, crossed ridges, crossed streams and bridges. Whether in bustling places or quiet spots, the young master ate while his daughter served him food; when he went to bed, she helped him undress; and when he needed to use the restroom, she held his clothes. He couldn’t avoid her anywhere—he was always with her. Before they knew it, several days passed in Luoyang.

Suddenly, after counting the days, it turned out to be 120 days. What should they do? The two gentlemen Zhao and their attendants stayed with the young master and took him to an inn to relieve his boredom. They were filled with worry and fear, tears streaming down their faces. Afraid that the young master would see, they quickly wiped them away. The young master stood there, stunned and at a loss. As he lowered his head and leaned on the railing, Master Huangfu arrived on a donkey. The gentlemen Zhao saw him and hurriedly went downstairs, kneeling in the street and begging for his help. Wu Qing and his attendants also knelt down and pleaded. Master Huangfu set up an altar in the inn, burned incense, chanted mantras, and after finishing, handed a precious sword to the young master, saying, “You were supposed to die today. Take this sword and lock the door tightly at night. At dusk, someone will come knocking on the door. Don’t ask who it is—immediately slash at them with the sword. If you’re lucky enough to kill the demon, you’ll survive; if not, and you accidentally hurt someone else, you’ll have to accept your death. In either case, death is still an option.” After giving these instructions, Master Huangfu rode off on his donkey. The young master received the sword and waited anxiously until nightfall, then locked the door. As dusk approached, he heard knocking. Without making a sound, he quietly opened the door and swung the sword—the demon fell to the ground instantly. The young master was both shocked and delighted, his heart pounding wildly. He shouted, “Quick! Light a lamp!” Everyone lit a lamp to take a look, and even the inn owner came over. It would have been better not to look, but when they did, they were all shocked: there lay a piece of human skull with half a bucket of ice-cold water poured over it.

The shop owner recognized the decapitated corpse as Ah Shou, the young servant who worked in the shop; he was fifteen years old. He had been locked outside because he went out onto the street, so he knocked on the door, and it happened to be damaged by the sword strike. At that time, there was chaos in the shop, and since a murder had occurred, the young master was tied up. The two Zhao brothers were also tied up. They waited for the authorities to arrive before being taken to Henan Prefecture.

When the governor heard about the murder, he read the report and sent the case to the prison officials for investigation. Wu Qing recounted in detail how Huangfu Zhenren had slain the demon. The prison officials said, “This is nonsense. Since a servant has indeed been killed, this is a real murder—how can this be excused?” They ordered their subordinates to torture him. But someone who followed the young master bribed the officials at the court. The jailer reported, “Wu Qing has been ill for a long time and cannot endure torture. As for those two noblemen, they are merely accomplices.” The prison official took advantage of the situation and temporarily imprisoned Wu Qing, waiting for him to recover before trying him again, while keeping the two Zhao brothers under house arrest. Meanwhile, the local authorities arranged to place the coffin with the corpse for examination by the court, and the sword used to kill the demon was stored in the treasury.

That night, Wu Qing wept in prison, saying, “My parents only had me. I never left my hometown since I was young. Who would have thought I’d die here! If I had known death was inevitable, why bother leaving home at all?” He also lamented, “My beloved, I thought we would love each other in life, but who knew our bond would continue after death? Love turned into hatred, separating us and leaving me without a place to rest in death. How miserable I am! How angry I am!” After lamenting for half the night, he fell asleep. In his dream, his affectionate daughter appeared before him, approaching gracefully. She bowed deeply and said, “Don’t grieve over me, my dear. After I died, the Great Yuan Lady passed by in the sky. Pitying my innocent early death, she taught me the art of transforming through the Moon Goddess, allowing my original form to remain intact so I could continue living in this world. Feeling your concern the year after, I shamelessly followed you—it was fate that we should be husband and wife for 120 days. Now that that time is up, I must leave. I came last night to say goodbye, but unexpectedly you acted maliciously and struck me with your sword. Today, I endure a night in prison as retribution. Ah Shou is in an ancient tomb outside the east gate; if the authorities re-examine the body, he will be cleared of blame. I also asked the Great Yuan Lady for two pills of Jade Snow Elixir. Take one pill, and all your illnesses will be cured, and your spirit will return to normal. Keep the other pill safe; it will help you find a good marriage in the future, as a reward for our 120 days together.” With that, she handed over two pills, small like chicken eggs, bright red in color, clearly like two fireballs. She put one pill in the young man’s sleeve and the other in his mouth, saying, “I’m leaving now! When the time comes, please visit my abandoned grave once—just to show that you haven’t forgotten our past love.”

The young man tried to ask more questions, but suddenly the sound of bells woke him up. He felt a strange fragrance in his mouth, and it seemed like there was a flame moving inside him. He sweated profusely. By dawn, the sweating stopped, and he felt much stronger. Checking his sleeve, he found one golden pill still there, just as he had seen in his dream.

The wealthy man concealed his true feelings and merely had the female ghost appear in a dream, saying that if servant A Shou were present, the body could be examined again to determine truth from falsehood. The prison official reported this to the high magistrate. The coffin was opened for inspection, and it turned out to be nothing but old brooms—nothing else inside. An ancient tomb was found outside the east gate, where servant A Shou lay asleep inside a broken stone structure, as if in a drunken dream. People poured ginger soup on him to wake him up and asked how he got there, but he knew nothing about it. The prison official took the servant and the brooms before the high magistrate and had the inn owner identify them; it was indeed A Shou who wasn’t dead, revealing the female ghost’s deception. The high magistrate then drove everyone away. Huangfu Zhenren, having realized that his sword against demons was ineffective, went into the mountains to practice Taoism. The two Zhao brothers welcomed Wu Xiaoyuanwai, expressing their congratulations. The inn owner also came to apologize. The three of them bid farewell to the host family, took their servants with them, and returned joyfully to Kaifeng Prefecture.

About fifty li outside the city lay a large town, where they stopped at an inn to rest and have a meal. On the wall of one house, they saw a notice seeking a doctor: “Our family has a beloved daughter who is seriously ill, and no one can diagnose her condition. If there is any skilled doctor from anywhere who can cure her, we will reward them generously with a hundred thousand silver coins, along with gifts of wine and meat—our promises will surely be kept.”

Wu Xiaoyuanwai read the notice and asked the innkeeper, “Whose house is that? What illness does she have, and why can’t anyone diagnose it?” The innkeeper replied, “That place is called Zhujiazhuang. Living next door is the wealthy Mr. Zhu, who has a beautiful daughter just sixteen years old. Though many people have asked for her hand in marriage, he refuses to agree easily. Within a month, she suddenly fell ill, became delirious, stopped eating and drinking. Many imperial physicians tried treating her, but her condition only worsened. What a fortune it is, yet no one seems worthy of it. It’s a pity such a fine young lady exists—rare in this world. Now she’s on the verge of death, and her parents cry day and night, praying to gods and Buddhas and doing good deeds to seek blessings, though they’ve already spent countless amounts of money.” Hearing this, Wu Xiaoyuanwai was secretly pleased and said, “Young man, please act as a matchmaker for me. I want to marry this young lady.” The innkeeper replied, “She’s faced nine near-death experiences in her life. Even if you wish to propose, she must first recover from her illness.” Wu Xiaoyuanwai said, “I know how to treat madness. I don’t need any rewards—just promise the marriage, and I’ll cure her immediately.”

The innkeeper said, “Please sit down, sir. I’ll convey your message right away.”

After a short while, the innkeeper returned with several gentlemen who came to meet the three of them. They asked, “Which of you is skilled in medicine?” Er Zhao raised his hand and said, “This is Wu Xiaoyuanwai.” Lord Chu added, “If you can cure my daughter’s illness, I will keep every word written in the notice.” Wu Xiaoyuanwai said, “My name is Wu Qing. I live on the main street in this city. My parents are still alive, and I have a modest household. I’m not interested in huge rewards. But I’m only twenty years old and unmarried. I’ve long admired your daughter’s beauty and virtue. If you allow me to marry her, I’ll do my best to serve her like the great doctors of old.” Er Zhao also spoke highly of Wu’s family’s wealth and reputation, as well as Wu Xiaoyuanwai’s honesty and integrity. Seeing how much these gentlemen valued their daughter, Wu couldn’t help but agree. He said, “If you truly can cure my daughter, I’ll provide a modest dowry and send her to your home.”

“The marriage was arranged.” Wu Qing said to the two Zhao brothers, “I beg you, brothers, to act as matchmakers; do not back out!” Chu Gong replied, “How dare I!” Immediately, Chu Gong invited all three to his home and hosted a feast for them. Wu Qing, being impatient, instructed his servant, “Take my daughter’s room and examine her illness and prescribe medicine.” Chu Gong went first, followed by Wu Qing. It was fate, indeed—when Wu Xiao Yuanwai entered the room, the girl’s madness ceased. Wu Xiao Yuanwai pretended to take her pulse; the wet nurse slightly lifted the curtain, and from within came the sound of something tinkling like gold, followed by the appearance of a delicate hand as smooth as carved jade. Truly, “Before seeing even half of her face, one sees her pair of jade-like wrists.”

Wu Xiao Yuanwai had examined both of her pulses and declared, as if seeing spirits, “This illness is caused by an evil spirit; only I can cure it.” He then took out a pill of Jade Snow Elixir and had it given to her with freshly drawn well water. The girl immediately felt refreshed and her illness vanished. Chu Gong expressed his gratitude, and that day the three enjoyed themselves at Chu’s estate. At night, Chu Gong stayed in the study. The next day, he invited them for breakfast again. The two Zhao brothers said, “We’ll take our leave after causing trouble; but we must not break our promise regarding Wu Xiao Yuanwai’s matter.” Chu Gong replied, “My daughter owes you her life; how could I ever forget such kindness? I will certainly follow your advice!” Wu Xiao Yuanwai thanked his future father-in-law. Chu Gong saw him off with proper honors as a sign of respect. The three left without accepting anything in return and returned home.

Wu Lao Yuanwai was overjoyed to see his son return healthy. The two Zhao brothers then mentioned the marriage arrangement, which he approved of greatly, and they promptly chose a date for the engagement. After completing the six ceremonial rites, they prepared a generous dowry of a thousand pieces of gold to send their daughter off to marry. Under the wedding candles, Wu Xiao Yuanwai saw his bride and was surprised—she resembled the beautiful woman in the apricot-yellow dress he had met by Jinming Lake for the first time. After three days and half a month, the couple grew familiar with each other. Wu Xiao Yuanwai asked his wife if, two days before last year’s Qingming Festival, she had indeed gone to the city to visit relatives, wearing an apricot-yellow dress and visiting Jinming Lake. It seems that when people have a wish, heaven always fulfills it. The young woman from the Chu family was also called Ai Ai.

One day, Wu Xiao Yuanwai told the Zhao brothers about this, and they were both amazed. “This marriage was arranged by Lady Lu; we must not forget her contribution.” Wu Xiao Yuanwai immediately went to the Lu family’s shop north of Jinming Lake, recounted his daughter’s story, offered gold and silk, and acknowledged Mr. and Mrs. Lu as his future parents-in-law. He requested to dig up the grave to see her and was willing to buy a new coffin for reburial. Mr. Lu, being a commoner, obeyed without hesitation once the wealthy man recognized him as a relative. Wu Xiao Yuanwai asked an astrologer to choose an auspicious day; first, they offered sacrifices of three kinds of livestock as an offering, then they dug open the grave. Miss Ai Ai still had a living complexion and her fragrance remained intact, proving that it was the work of the art of shaping forms through yin energy. Wu Xiao Yuanwai marveled at this. After the reburial, they invited a high priest to conduct rituals for seven days and nights. That night, he dreamed of Ai Ai coming to thank him, after which she disappeared forever. Later, Wu Xiao Yuanwai and Chu Ai Ai lived happily together for a hundred years. Mr. and Mrs. Lu also relied on Wu Xiao Yuanwai to arrange their funeral.

It is truly a testament to the noble virtues of ordinary people. Here’s a poem to prove it:
By the Golden Bright Pool, I met two beauties,
Ending life’s bonds of birth and death.
All lovers in this world are like this—
Like golden lotuses blooming in a house of fire.

Volume 31: Zhao Chun’er Revives the Cao Family Estate

Last night, the neighbor reported about Lady Wu;
Her pipa music stirred deep thoughts.

It’s not women who are inherently unapproachable—
In this world, there are few men indeed.

These four lines praise women. As the saying goes, “A determined woman surpasses a man.” Among women, only prostitutes are considered the lowest, yet many of them stand out. There was Lady Liang, who was able to recognize Han Shizhong amidst the chaos. Han Shizhong rose from humble beginnings to become a general, fighting against Jin Wushu’s fourth prince by the riverside. Lady Liang left her family to encourage the troops, personally beating drums to boost their morale, helping to defeat their enemy. Later, when Han Shizhong was made King of Jin, he retired to West Lake, where he lived happily with Lady Liang for many years. Another example is Li Yaxian, a famous prostitute from Chang’an. A son of Zheng Yuanhe visited her, but after failing, he became a beggar in the charity home, singing “Lotus Falls” in the heavy snow. Hearing his song, Li Yaxian recognized him as Zheng’s son, took him in, wrapped him in embroidered clothes, encouraged him to study, and eventually he became the top scholar in the exams. Li Yaxian was then promoted to a first-rank lady. These two are outstanding examples among women—compared to ordinary men, they could easily exchange their roles.

Now, let’s tell a story about a prostitute. Though she doesn’t possess the great talents of Li Yaxian or Lady Liang, she still overcame countless hardships to help her family achieve success, achieving a modest outcome—a rarity among thousands.

It is said that outside Yangzhou city, there was a place called Cao Family Estate. The head of the family there was a wealthy man named Cao Dagong. His wife had passed away, leaving behind only one son, Cao Kecheng. This young man was exceptionally talented and clever in many ways. However, there were two things he wasn’t good at: first, he couldn’t read, and second, he couldn’t write. As the saying goes, “A single child deserves care.” Being the beloved son of a rich family, he was spoiled. From a young age, people addressed him as “my lord,” which led to his reckless behavior. He spent his time in bustling streets and pleasure districts, indulging in wine and cosmetics, living lavishly. People called him “Cao the Fool.” Although his father knew about his wastefulness and tried to stop him, he refused to give him money. So, he secretly used his family’s land to borrow money elsewhere. There were several disadvantages to borrowing money: first, the amount given was less than requested, and sometimes harsh lenders demanded additional goods as payment. Second, the interest rates were extremely high. Third, interest compounded over time...

Over a period of one year and ten months, only one document was exchanged, with no demands for repayment. Yet the interest accrued was substantial, leading to financial strain. Fourth, the intermediary would also demand a gratuity. He regarded himself as half the creditor, using his position to keep demanding more. Fifth, when writing the loan note, only the best assets were selected to be used as collateral. Once written, those assets could no longer be sold to others. And when it came time to settle the debt, the amount owed was reduced. If there was a surplus, he would refuse to return it, acting in a capricious manner and never settling things fairly. These five disadvantages meant that families often went bankrupt. Those in authority held onto both ends but didn’t realize that the intermediary was actually profiting for someone else. Out of ten pieces of property, only five could truly be used. This is another example of focusing only on life while ignoring death. It’s better to be clear about whether the deal with them will ultimately work out.

Knowing that descendants are inferior, one should carefully keep the keys.

Descendants will handle their own affairs; one should serve them like cattle.

Enough of these idle talks. Back to the story: there was a famous prostitute in the area named Zhao Chun’er, daughter of Madame Zhao. She was truly beautiful, with a complexion like jade and eyes like pearls. She specialized in serving wealthy merchants and making large sums of money. As soon as Cao Kecheng saw her, he fell in love with her. He stayed at her place for a whole month, spending lavishly. The two became inseparable—she was willing to marry him, and he was willing to take her as his wife. They made vows before the gods and sealed their agreement by the light of lamps. But since her father was still alive, she couldn’t marry him. Seeing that Kecheng was generous, the prostitute asked him to buy her freedom. In the prostitution industry, there was such a rule: those who had their virginity lost for the first time were called “those freed from servitude.” If someone paid off their master’s debt, they could continue working as prostitutes freely, without restrictions—this was called “being freed from servitude.” But when such a person wanted to stop working, other clients would give way to them, allowing them to stay for ten or five nights without having to pay for lodging. If they later wanted to marry, no dowry was required. There were many such complicated rules. Cao Kecheng wanted to buy Zhao Chun’er’s freedom, but Madame Zhao demanded five hundred taels, refusing to go lower. Kecheng tried various ways but still couldn’t get the money.

One day, he heard that his father had kept many gold coins at home but hadn’t given them away. After investigating carefully, he found that they were hidden behind the wall behind the bed in the bedroom, covered by a curtain. Seizing the opportunity, Kecheng entered the room and stole a few coins. Afraid that his father would discover it, he replaced them with fake coins made of lead, swapping one for another. He then used these fake coins to buy Zhao Chun’er’s freedom and purchased clothes for her. Whenever he needed money, he would exchange the fake silver for real silver, keeping some amount with Zhao Chun’er for her to use, without checking. It was easy to get the money, and just as easy to spend it. Over time, the amount kept increasing, but he never kept track of exactly how much it was. Zhao Chun’er, seeing him spend freely, thought their family was wealthy, not realizing where the money came from.

One day, the elder lord fell seriously ill. He called Kecheng and his wife to his bedside and earnestly instructed them, “My son, you are now in your thirties; you’re no longer young. ‘A bad son turns words into actions!’ Do not wander around in places of debauchery now. Focus on your duties. Besides our family’s assets, I still have some savings, and since I have no other brothers to inherit them, it’s all for your use.” Then he pointed behind the bed and said, “Unfold the curtain; there’s another wall behind it. Inside, hidden away, are a hundred gold ingots, totaling five thousand taels. This is the essence of my life’s work. I never told you before because you were preoccupied with other matters. Now I entrust these to you both so that you can build some property to pass on to future generations—do not waste it again!” He also said to his daughter-in-law, “Honey, your marriage is a lifelong commitment. Do not treat each other coldly. Advise your husband kindly, work together heart and soul as a couple. Only then can I rest in peace in the afterlife.” With that, he died shortly after.

Kecheng cried bitterly and had to arrange the funeral. Wondering how much real silver was left in that hidden wall, he brought it out and spread it on the ground. To his surprise, they were all fake ingots covered in lead—ninety-nine in total, with only one genuine one left. Out of the five thousand taels, four thousand nine hundred and fifty taels had been spent. Kecheng felt remorseful. If only he had known those things would eventually belong to him—he wouldn’t have rushed things! Now, faced with such a crisis and with nothing in hand, he ended up in heavy debt. Full of regret, he cried loudly at the fake ingots. His wife tried to comfort him, saying, “You’ve been preoccupied with other matters before; we won’t hold that against you. Now that there’s so much silver available, why don’t you focus on practical matters instead of just crying?” Kecheng then told her about how the fake ingots had replaced the real ones. His wife, who had always tried to advise him when he was busy with other affairs but had been ignored, became ill from anger. Hearing this news in such a time of sorrow, how could she not be upset? Her hands and feet turned cold immediately. She was taken back to their room and laid in bed, where she died a few days later. Truly, one reaps what one sows.

Kecheng suffered two losses in quick succession, overwhelmed with pain yet forcing himself to endure. Forty-nine days later, all his creditors came to claim their debts, seizing all of the Cao family’s ancestral land and houses. Having to leave his home, he hurriedly arranged another funeral. Now alone with no support, he settled in a small room near the gravesite. Needless to say, life became extremely difficult for him.

Meanwhile, Zhao Chun'er, having not seen Kecheng for a long time, missed him deeply. Hearing that his father had died and that his wife had died of anger over the fake ingots, she feared rumors might spread and dared not go to offer condolences. Later, learning that he had lost all his property and was living in a miserable condition near the gravesite, she sent letters to invite him, but Kecheng felt too ashamed to meet her. After repeated invitations, he finally agreed to go. As soon as she saw him, she hugged him and cried, saying, “My life belongs to you. Fortunately, I still have some money to help you. Why didn’t you tell me when you were in trouble?” She prepared wine to entertain him, and he stayed overnight. The next morning, she gave him a hundred taels of silver, asking him to take care of his family.

Saving money: “Come to me when you’re short of funds.” This could earn silver, making him forget his hardships and becoming infatuated with Chun'er. He refused to get up, so she used the silver to buy wine and meat to invite those idle men from before to eat together. At first, Chun'er didn’t stop him, but on the second try, she earnestly advised him, saying, “These idle men bring only harm, no benefit. It was these people who ruined your family back then. You must not associate with them anymore. I’m giving you good advice. Wait until three years are up, and then we can discuss other matters.” She tried to persuade him several times. But Kecheng still had the habits of a wealthy man; suspecting that Chun'er disdained him, he left in anger. Worried, Chun'er secretly sent someone to find out about him. Although he didn’t change jobs, he continued to spend lavishly. Chun'er thought to herself that he hadn’t suffered enough and didn’t know how hard farming was; let him endure it. A few days later, Kecheng ran out of money—sometimes having food, sometimes not—but he didn’t give up and go beg Chun'er. Though she felt sorry for him, she didn’t invite him over. After going through great hardship, she sent some firewood and rice to help him a little, but it wasn’t enough.

It turned out that Kecheng also had relatives and friends. Unable to help himself, seeing Zhao Chun'er busy carrying things here and there, he became displeased. He went to urge Kecheng, saying, “You spent thousands of silver coins at the Zhao family back then; even Chun'er’s body was redeemed by you. Now that you’re in such distress, she’s living a carefree life. Why don’t you sue her to get back some of what you paid?”

Kecheng replied, “What happened back then was my own choice—I had a lover before. Now that I’ve changed my ways, my brothers mock me.” Someone else repeated these words to Chun'er, who nodded secretly, thinking, “It seems Cao’s heart is still kind.” She also thought, “No one is happy forever; flowers don’t bloom for a hundred days. If someone else helps him, might he change his mind?” After hesitating a few times, she sent someone to invite Kecheng to her house, saying, “I promised to marry you back then—was it just to deceive you? First, you haven’t finished your servitude period, and I’m afraid of gossip. Second, knowing you’re in trouble, I’m trying to find a way to support us while I’m away. Don’t listen to idle talk and ruin our relationship as husband and wife.” Kecheng said, “Others may not speak well of me, but I have my own plans. Don’t doubt me.” After staying for a night or two, he gave her more gifts.

Time flew by, and before he knew it, three years were up. Chun'er prepared sacrifices of livestock, incense, candles, and paper money to pay respects at Cao’s grave, and also gave three strings of coins to perform rituals in Kecheng’s memory. Kecheng was delighted. Once the rituals were complete, Kecheng went to Chun'er to express his gratitude. Chun'er invited him to stay. During the drinking, Kecheng brought up the matter of getting married. Chun'er said, “It’s not that I don’t want to, but I’m afraid you still want to marry the eldest lady.” Kecheng replied, “What kind of situation am I in now to talk about such things?” Chun'er said, “Though you say that now, I’m afraid that once you become prosperous again…”

To find a proper match, need I not exert all my efforts? I can even swear an oath to heaven. Chun'er said, “Since you’re so determined, I have nothing else to say. It’s just not appropriate to get married inside the tombhouse.” Kecheng replied, “There’s an empty house for sale near the gravesite, for just fifty taels of silver. If we buy it, it would be convenient.” Chun'er gathered fifty taels of silver and gave it to Kecheng to buy the house. She also gave him some extra coins to help him tidy up the place and prepare necessities. They chose an auspicious day; when it came, they packed their belongings into boxes, took along their maid named Cuiyue, hired a boat, and rushed to the Cao family’s home. Without anyone knowing, they completed their marriage.

Putting aside matters of casual love and freedom, they became husband and wife bound by vows.

After getting married, Chun'er and Kecheng discussed how to make a living. Chun'er said, “You grew up in a wealthy family and don’t know how to manage a household. It’s better to buy some fields to farm—that’s a practical approach.” Kecheng boasted of his abilities, saying, “I’ve gone through many setbacks and learned from them; I won’t be deceived anymore.” Chun'er gathered three hundred taels of silver and gave it to Kecheng. But Kecheng, used to being careless, thought about what to invest with the money and wandered around the city looking for opportunities. Some scoundrels who had met him before, knowing he now had wealth after marrying Chun'er, came to trick him: one suggested this investment was profitable, another claimed it was less profitable, some said five taels per share, others said more. In no time, all the money was gone, leaving him with nothing, so he went back to asking Chun'er for money. This angered Chun'er, who cried and said, “Always think about having money when you do have it, don’t wait until you don’t have it to then wish you did. You wasted it at first, which is why you’re in this situation now; with limited money, every bit counts.” At first, she remained firm and ignored his requests.

Later, unable to bear watching their marital relationship deteriorate, she finally revealed everything—just things like firewood and rice. After giving it away several times, she found her savings gradually decreasing. At first, Kecheng still felt grateful, thinking it was normal over a year or two, and assumed she still had some private money she refused to hand over. They constantly argued, with him pressing her to give it all. Unable to withstand the pressure, Chun'er sighed and handed her husband the keys to all the boxes, saying, “These things belong to you anyway. I’m giving them to you so you don’t have to worry about them! From now on, I’ll live by spinning cloth with Cuiyue. I don’t want your support, and you shouldn’t pester me either.”

From that day on, Chun'er began fasting and spun cloth day and night to support herself. Kecheng, though initially upset, was glad to have so much property. He thought to himself, “I’ll turn this into silver and use it to buy some land as an investment, to restore our family’s status and gain some respect.” Although hesitant, he still said...

And he did nothing. As the saying goes, “Food is in the mouth, money is in the hand.” Spend a penny, and if there’s no money left, one will end up with nothing. In less than a year, he was back to empty promises, no longer showing up, hiding it from his wife, and secretly selling the girl named Cuìyè to someone else. Chun’er lost her companion in spinning again, feeling both angry and distressed. She told Kecheng all about it. Kecheng realized he was at fault and regretted it deeply, tears welling in his eyes.

After some time, when there was no food left, he said to Chun’er, “I see that spinning is a good business for you, working day and night. Now that you have no companion and I have nothing to do, why not teach me spinning? It could be a way to make a living.” Chun’er was both amused and annoyed, and couldn’t help but scold him, “You’re a man—don’t you expect to support your wife? Don’t you have any other way to earn a living?” Kecheng replied, “My wise wife is right. ‘When birds are thin, their feathers grow long; when people are poor, their wisdom fades.’ Tell me how I can earn a living, and I’ll do it.” Chun’er said, “You used to be educated and know how to read. There’s a lack of teachers in the villages around here, and the houses are empty. Why not gather some village children and teach them, so you can earn some money to support yourself?” Kecheng agreed, “A wise woman is better than a man. My wife is right.” He then discussed it with his wife, gathered about ten village children, and began teaching them to write. At first he was impatient, but out of necessity, he gradually got used to it. He contented himself with simple meals, never seeking anything more luxurious. Chun’er kept bringing up various matters, but Kecheng didn’t dare say a word in response. Recalling the past, he would often cry. All those possessions they once had were lost without reason—needless to mention. Even if it were the things Chun’er brought along, if they had known how to manage them, they could have made a living. Now, it was too late to regret it.

Fifteen years passed. One day, Kecheng went into the city and encountered a man wearing a silver belt, black gauze hat, and black boots, traveling in a covered carriage with many servants. The man recognized him as Cao Kecheng and stepped out of the carriage to greet him. Kecheng tried to avoid him. They exchanged greetings on the road. The man’s surname was Yin and his name was Sheng; he was from Tongzhou, the same region as Kecheng. He had been in prison with Kecheng and shared the same fate. Recently, he had been selected as an official in Zhejiang and was leaving home to take up his post, looking very prosperous. After parting with Yin Sheng, Kecheng returned home in a gloomy mood and said to his wife, “All my wealth is gone. But there’s one thing that can’t be lost—that’s my status as a student-official. Today I saw Yin Sheng from Tongzhou get appointed as a high-ranking official and heading to Zhejiang—what a glorious sight! I was in the same group as him, and my appointment date has already been set. How can I get enough money to go to the capital?” Chun’er said, “Stop dreaming. We don’t even have food to eat now. How can you think about becoming an official?” A few days later, Kecheng still envied Yin Sheng’s prosperity, and they talked about it again. Chun’er asked, “How much does it cost to become an official?” Kecheng replied, “The more investment, the greater the benefits. In this world, even those who pass the highest exams are just involved in financial dealings. Not to mention being a student-official. The more money you invest, the better position you can get, and the more money you can earn. If you’re willing to work hard, you might even serve in several positions.”

Used infrequently, this poor position is meant to keep you occupied; after a year or two, you’ll be promoted to an official rank. But with an official title yet no actual position, one can’t even afford to be a student.” Chun’er asked, “How much does a good position cost?” Kecheng replied, “A good position also costs a thousand gold pieces.” Chun’er said, “It’s hard to come by even a hundred taels, let alone a thousand! It’s better to stay and teach steadily.” With tears in his eyes, Kecheng had no choice but to return to the classroom to teach. Truly, he had no face to leave his ancestors’ home, left only with sorrow to face his students.

One day, Chun’er woke up in the middle of the night and saw Kecheng sitting on the bed in his robe, crying nonstop. When she asked why, Kecheng said, “Just now I dreamed that I had obtained an official position in Chaozhou Prefecture, Guangdong. I was seated in the prefectural hall, with all the clerks paying their respects. I was drinking tea when one thin, tall clerk with several yellow whiskers brought documents to my seat. By accident, he knocked over my teacup; I rolled up my sleeve and suddenly woke up. It was just a dream. Since I’m utterly poor, I have no hope of ever holding an official position. I would bring shame upon my ancestors and disgrace my descendants, which is why I cry.” Chun’er said, “You were born into a wealthy family and raised in a distinguished household—don’t you have any relatives who could help? Why not borrow money to fund your pursuit of an official position? If you succeed, you can repay them someday.” Kecheng replied, “Since I was young, I’ve been working outside the family, and my relatives consider me unworthy and reject me. Now that I’m so poor, who would lend me money? Even if they did, what could I use as collateral?” Chun’er said, “Borrowing money now to pursue an official position is different from wasting it before. Maybe they’ll agree to lend.” Kecheng said, “My wise wife is right.” The next day, he went to visit his relatives one by one: some refused to see him, some said he wasn’t there; even those who met him dismissed his request for a loan with cold laughter or refused outright. A few, out of pity for him asking, gave him a small amount of money or grain. Kecheng was deeply disappointed and returned to Chun’er.

If only I had known borrowing would be so difficult! I regret never choosing to become a scholar.

Kecheng, at a loss for solutions, could only cry. Chun’er said, “Why cry? You cry when you have no money, and then you become reckless once you do have it.” Kecheng said, “At this point, not even my wife trusts me—let alone others.” He cried again. “It’s better to die! It’s a shame to fail to fulfill Mrs. Zhao’s promise of staying by my side for fifteen years. Now I can’t even think about that.” As Kecheng contemplated suicide, Chun’er stepped forward to persuade him, saying, “Things change constantly; people change even more. If nothing changes, it’s only because of death. There’s always a way out—why do you value your life so little?” Kecheng replied, “Even ants cling to life—how could anyone not fear death? But since I’m useless in life, it’s better to die and spare you from being burdened by me forever.” Chun’er said, “Don’t rush. If you truly resolve to work hard, I have a plan.” Kecheng immediately knelt down and said, “My lady, what plan do you have? Please save my life soon!” Chun’er said, “When I wasn’t married yet, I made a sworn sisterhood with...

Eighteen sisters, whom I’ve never visited before. Now, for your sake, I have to endure shame and go see them once. Each sister will give ten taels, so eighteen sisters will contribute a total of 180 taels of silver.” Ke Cheng said, “If you want to find a good wife, then go.” Chun Er replied, “On our first visit, we need gifts; we’ll have to prepare eighteen sets of gifts.” Ke Cheng said, “Not to mention eighteen sets, even one set would be difficult to arrange.” Chun Er said, “If I could keep one or two pieces of jewelry, I might still be able to get by today.” Ke Cheng began to cry. Chun Er said, “Who told you to live in such comfort? Now you have so many tears! Go and take care of preparing the documents. Once the documents are ready, I’ll go and try to get some help from those in the capital. If I can’t get the documents, then what?” Ke Cheng said, “If I can’t prepare the documents, I swear I won’t go home!” He said these words rashly and left. He thought to himself, “To prepare the documents, I’ll need some money from the local government offices.” He didn’t want to argue with his wife again, so he went to borrow from some villagers and students. It was hard to gather just five qian. If it weren’t for the hardships over the past fifteen years, he could have given those things as a reward, but he couldn’t bear to do that. Times change.

Ke Cheng managed to gather some silver and went to Jiangdu County to prepare the documents. There was a man named Zhu there, who was honest and kind. He knew Ke Cheng from before and, knowing he was poor, helped him in front of everyone by writing an IOU, promising to repay it once he found a way. Ke Cheng returned happily, carrying the documents. Along the way, he thanked heaven and earth and his ancestors, hoping his wife would go and collect the debt. When he entered the house, he saw his wife sitting in the room spinning flax, looking very pitiful. Though she said nothing, she was anxious, thinking she couldn’t collect the debt after all. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn’t want to show too much worry. She stood outside the door with the documents, calling softly, “My dear wife.” Chun Er heard her and stopped spinning the flax, asking, “How did it go with the documents?” Ke Cheng stepped inside, took out the documents from his arms, and placed them on the table. “Thanks to you, my dear wife, I now have the documents,” he said. Chun Er got up, looked at the documents, and thought to herself, “This fool isn’t so foolish after all.” Then she asked Ke Cheng, “Do you really want to become an official? I’m afraid I won’t be able to respect you as a husband.” Ke Cheng replied, “What are you saying! My future depends entirely on your support. But I don’t know how to borrow money.” Chun Er said, “We’ve already tried to collect the debt. We’re just waiting for the day you can start working, and then we’ll collect it together.” Ke Cheng didn’t dare ask how much to borrow and hurriedly went to a shop to choose an appropriate day, then informed Chun Er. Chun Er said, “Go borrow a hoe from the neighbors.”

After a while, they got the hoe. Chun Er put aside the basket for spinning flax and pointed to it, saying, “When I married you, I buried a silk hat here for you.” Ke Cheng thought, “A silk hat buried underground? Won’t it rot? Better not argue with her; let’s just dig and see.” He picked up the hoe and dug hard a few times, and then heard a sound...

With a sound, something was turned over. Ke Cheng was startled and picked it up to take a look—it was a small porcelain jar, filled with scattered silver coins and several silver wine vessels. Chun'er asked her husband to take it to the city to have its value assessed. After weighing it, they found it to be worth nearly 167 taels of silver. He brought it back home and handed it to his wife with a beaming smile. Chun'er already knew the amount and had intended to test him; seeing that he hadn’t cheated in the slightest, she was very pleased. She asked him to bring a shovel again, moved aside a small stool where he had sat spinning flax for fifteen years, and told him to dig further. He dug out another large porcelain jar, filled with gold and silver valuables worth no less than a thousand pieces of gold. It turned out that Chun'er, seeing Ke Cheng wasting time, had secretly buried all these treasures beforehand, sitting there spinning flax all those years without revealing anything—truly a woman worthy of her husband! Upon seeing so many riches, Ke Cheng burst into tears. Chun'er asked, “Why are you so sad, my dear?” Ke Cheng replied, “Thinking of how my virtuous wife worked hard for fifteen years, living simply on plain clothes and vegetables, yet hiding such great wisdom. It’s all because of my unworthiness as Cao Ke Cheng that she had to suffer. Today, my wife deserves my bow!” With that, he bowed down. Chun'er hurriedly helped him up, saying, “Today, after suffering, we finally enjoy happiness and prosperity together.” Ke Cheng said, “Now that we have enough money, I’ll go to the capital to take the imperial examinations, leaving you alone at home. It’s better if we go together to the capital, so we can discuss everything.” Chun'er replied, “I’m also worried. That’s great then. We packed our belongings, hired two servants, rented a boat, and the couple set off for Beijing together. Truly, when fortune comes, even gold loses its luster, while iron shines in its time.”

When Ke Cheng arrived in the capital, he found an inn to settle his family and submitted his documents to the Ministry of Personnel. Having money to spend, he was selected for an official position. His first assignment was as the deputy magistrate of Tong’an County in Fujian, after which he was promoted to an official in Quanzhou Prefecture in the same province—all thanks to his wife’s help, which boosted his reputation greatly. Using his wealth to pursue both public and personal interests, he was later promoted to the position of vice magistrate in Chaozhou Prefecture in Guangdong. During an annual imperial inspection, the prefect went to the capital, leaving vacancies for the deputy prefect and other officials. His superiors recognized his talent and gave him the seal of authority to manage affairs, scheduling a day for him to take office. After completing the formalities, a servant brought tea. Just as he raised his hand, a court official carried documents to the desk, knocking over the tea and spilling it all over his sleeves. Ke Cheng was about to get angry, but seeing that the official was thin and tall with several strands of yellow beard, he suddenly remembered a dream he had had years ago—the scene before him matched exactly what he had dreamed. He realized then that his future was predetermined by fate, not by chance. The official panicked and kowtowed to apologize. Ke Cheng comforted him kindly, showing no anger at all. Everyone in the hall praised his magnanimity.

That day, after leaving the court, he told his wife about the dream. Chun'er was also shocked and said, “Based on this dream, it seems your official career will end at this position. Back then, you taught village children in a tomb-like place, with no proper clothes or food. Today, after serving as an official for three terms and reaching the rank of a sixth-rank official, that’s sufficient for a scholar. As the saying goes, ‘Knowledge…’”

“May one’s feet not be humiliated.” Officials should retire bravely in times of crisis and plan to spend their old age in the mountains or forests. Cao Kecheng followed this advice. After serving as magistrate for three days, he pretended to be ill and requested to resign. Since there was no one else to hold the official seal in his district, his superiors refused to approve his resignation. Reluctantly, he continued to serve, and after another six months, when a new magistrate took office and the seal was handed over, he submitted his resignation letter the very next day.

Seeing his earnest desire to leave, his superiors finally agreed. Thousands of people came to beg him to stay, but Cao Kecheng comforted them all, saying that his wife and children would return to a life of comfort. Over the course of his three terms as magistrate, he accumulated about several thousand pieces of gold, which he used to buy back his land and houses. His family in Caocuzhuang thrived, making them one of the wealthiest families in the region. Although this was a sign of Cao Kecheng’s redemption, it was all thanks to Zhao Chun’er’s support. Later, a poem was written in his praise: “His family was ruined just because of his beauty; yet with the help of a beautiful woman, he rebuilt his family.”

Such beauties are rare throughout history—I advise you not to be greedy for them! Volume 32: Du Shiniang’s Anger and the Sinking of the Treasure Box

The barbarians were swept away, and the imperial capital was established. The dragon soared and the phoenix danced, creating a magnificent scene.

To the left lay the vast sea, stretching across the sky; to the right stood the towering Taihang Mountains.

The weapons and soldiers made the borders invincible, while the rulers of various nations admired their greatness.

The people lived in peace and happiness, under the bright light of the sun.

This poem praises the prosperity of our dynasty’s capital at Yanjing. As for the location of Yanjing, it was backed by formidable fortresses in the north and dominated the regions to the south—it truly was a golden city and a land of abundance, with a foundation that would last forever. Initially, Emperor Hongwu swept away the barbarians and established his capital in Jinling, which became Nanjing. Later, Emperor Yongle launched a campaign from Beiping and moved the capital to Yanjing, which became Beijing. This relocation transformed a harsh land into a prosperous world. From Emperor Yongle to Emperor Wanli, there were nine emperors in total—these were the eleventh generation of our dynasty’s rulers. This emperor was wise, brave, and virtuous. He ascended the throne at the age of ten and ruled for forty-eight years, putting down three rebellions. Which three?

Toyotomi Hideyoshi in Japan, Chengen in Western Xia, and Yang Yinglong in Bozhou.

Hideyoshi invaded Korea, while Chengen and Yang Yinglong were local rulers who rebelled. All of them were subdued one after another. Even distant tribes feared them and rushed to pay tribute. Truly, it was…

May one enjoy peace and happiness, while the whole world enjoys tranquility and prosperity.

This story takes place during the 20th year of the Wanli era, when Japan’s regent rebelled and invaded Korea. The king of Korea sent urgent requests for help, and the imperial court sent troops across the sea to rescue them. An official from the Ministry of Revenue proposed that, given the current military situation and the lack of sufficient provisions, it would be appropriate to temporarily allow people to contribute grain in exchange for admission to the imperial academies. There were several advantages to this practice: those who contributed grain could study hard, prepare for the imperial examinations, and hope for a promising future. As a result, sons of officials and wealthy families, rather than becoming scholars, chose to enter the imperial academies instead. After this policy was implemented, the number of students in the academies in the two capitals increased by over a thousand each. Among them was a man named Li Jia, styled Zixian, from Shaoxing Prefecture in Zhejiang. He was the eldest of three sons born to his father, Li Bu. From a young age he studied at schools but never passed the imperial examinations. He entered the northern academy through this special arrangement. While staying in the capital, he met a famous beauty while visiting the entertainment district with another student named Liu Yuchun. That beauty’s surname was Du, and her name was Mei; she was the tenth daughter in her family, and everyone in the district called her Du Shiniang. She was extremely beautiful—her whole body exuded grace and charm, her eyebrows were like distant green mountains, and her eyes were as clear as autumn waters. Her face resembled a lotus petal, making her resemble the elegant Wenjun from the Zhu family; her lips were like cherries, not inferior to Fan Su from the Bai family. It was a pity that such a flawless beauty ended up trapped in the world of pleasure and debauchery.

Du Shiniang had lost her virginity at the age of thirteen, and now at nineteen, she had been with countless noblemen over the past seven years. Each of them was infatuated with her, willing to spend all their wealth for her. There were four popular sayings about her:

“If Du Shiniang is present, even a small amount of wine can be drunk in large quantities.”

“If you know Du Lao Mei, all beautiful women seem like ghosts.”

Li Jia, though still young and inexperienced in matters of love, was overjoyed to meet Du Shiniang. He poured all his affection onto her. He was handsome, kind-hearted, generous, and attentive, making him an ideal match for her. Du Shiniang, seeing that the brothel owners were greedy and heartless, long desired to lead a proper life. Seeing Li Jia’s honesty and sincerity, she grew fond of him deeply. Yet Li Jia was afraid of his father and dared not accept her. Nevertheless, their relationship grew stronger day by day; they spent time together joyfully, acting like husband and wife. They made solemn vows to each other, having no other desires. Truly:

“Their love was as deep as the sea, boundless; their loyalty was as strong as mountains, unyielding.”

As for Mother Du, her daughter was occupied by Young Master Li, and other wealthy families, though famous, came to seek an audience but were not allowed in. At first, Young Master Li spent money recklessly, squandering it freely, while Mother Du had to flatter him constantly with smiles and words of praise. As days turned into months, more than a year passed unnoticed, and Young Master Li’s purse gradually emptied; he could no longer act as he wished, so Mother Du began to neglect him. The old governor, hearing at home that his son was indulging in debauchery, wrote several times urging him to return. But he was infatuated with Lady Shi and kept delaying his return. Later, upon learning that his father was furious at home, he dared not go back any further. As the ancients say, “Those who associate for profit grow distant once the profit is gone.” Lady Shi and Young Master Li truly loved each other, and as he grew poorer, her affection grew stronger. Mother Du also tried several times to persuade her daughter to send Young Master Li away, but since her daughter refused, she tried again and again to provoke Young Master Li, aiming to anger him into leaving. But he was naturally gentle and calm, responding in a soothing manner. With no other choice, Mother Du gradually began scolding Lady Shi, saying, “We’re a family of entertainers—always welcoming guests, sending off the old ones at the front door and bringing in new ones at the back. Our house is always bustling, with piles of money. Ever since that Li Jia arrived here, he’s been causing trouble for over a year. Not only have we lost new customers, but even our old ones have gone away. It’s as if we’ve welcomed a misfortune; not even the little spirits will come here. Our family is now in a miserable state, with nothing but sorrow!”

Angered by these insults, Lady Shi lost her patience and replied, “Young Master Li didn’t come here empty-handed; he also spent a lot of money.” Mother Du said, “He spent it temporarily; you should just make him spend a little money today to buy some food and necessities for us, so we can support you both. In other families, daughters are sources of income, but in our family, we’ve got a curse—a money-losing ‘white tiger’! Everything depends on me. Now I’m having to support this worthless girl and a poor man for free—where will I get food and clothes from? Tell that poor man, ‘If you can afford it, give me a few taels of silver. Once you’re with him, why not find another maid to support yourself?’” Lady Shi asked, “Mother, is that true or false?” Knowing that Li Jia had no money left and had pawned all his clothes, she guessed he had no way to get money, so she replied, “I never lie—it’s true.” Lady Shi asked, “Mother, do you want a lot of silver?” Mother Du said, “If it were someone else, I’d demand a thousand taels. But that poor man can’t afford it. I only want three hundred taels; then I’ll find another maid to replace her. But one condition: he must give it to me within three days—silver in one hand, the maid in the other. If there’s no silver after three days, I won’t care whether he’s a young master or not; I’ll beat him out and drive him away. Don’t blame me then!” Lady Shi said, “Although the young master is short of money now, I think he can still manage three hundred taels. But three days is too short; ten days would be better.” Mother Du thought, “That poor man has nothing at all—even if I give him a hundred days, where will he get the silver? Without silver, he won’t even have the courage to show up. Then I can restore order in our household, and you won’t have anything to say.” She agreed, “Out of consideration for you, I’ll extend it to ten days. If there’s no silver by the tenth day, it’s not my problem anymore.” Lady Shi said...

“If there’s no silver in ten days, I doubt he’ll have the courage to see me again. I’m afraid even with three hundred taels of silver, Mother will back out.” Mother said, “I’m fifty-one years old and observing a ten-day fast—how dare I lie? If you don’t believe me, let’s shake hands as a pledge. If I go back on my word, may I become a pig or a dog!”

The depth of the sea can never be measured; it’s laughable how that pious woman has such bad intentions.

Knowing the poor scholar has nothing left, she makes it hard to obtain the dowry for the young lady.

That night, Shi Niang and the young man talked about their future together. The young man said, “It’s not that I don’t want to. But getting registered in the entertainment district costs a lot—thousands of taels are needed. I’m completely penniless—what can I do?” Shi Niang replied, “I’ve already discussed it with Mother; all we need is three hundred taels, as long as it’s arranged within ten days. Though your funds are exhausted, surely you have relatives or friends in the capital who can lend you money? If you can get that amount, I’ll become yours and you won’t have to put up with that pious woman’s demands.” The young man said, “All my relatives and friends who used to support me in the brothel won’t help now. Tomorrow I’ll pack my things, say goodbye to everyone, and ask for loans for travel expenses. Maybe over time I can gather enough.” He got up, washed up, bid farewell to Shi Niang, and left. Shi Niang said, “Hurry up and bring good news.” The young man replied, “No need to tell me again.”

After leaving the brothel, the young man went to his relatives and friends, pretending to say goodbye. They were happy to see him. But when he mentioned the lack of money for travel, they refused to lend him anything. As the saying goes, “As soon as money is mentioned, the connection breaks.” They saw that Li Gongzi was a dissolute man obsessed with pleasure, likely not to return, and his father was already upset at home because of him. Now he suddenly claimed to want to go back—whether true or not, if he lied to get money just to spend it on cosmetics, his father would turn goodwill into hostility. It was better to decline outright. They replied, “We’re currently short of funds and can’t help. We’re sorry, truly sorry!” Everyone acted the same way; not a single generous man was willing to lend him even twelve taels. After running around for three days with no success, he didn’t dare to disappoint Shi Niang and simply gave a vague promise. On the fourth day, with no solution in sight, he returned to the brothel in shame. With the Du family no longer there, he had nowhere to stay. He had no choice but to borrow a place to stay at Liu Jiansheng’s residence.

Liu Yuchun saw the young man’s worried expression and asked what happened. The young man told him in detail about Du Shi Niang’s willingness to marry him. Yuchun shook his head and said, “Not necessarily. That Du Shi Niang is the best singer in the city. When she decides to marry, she’ll probably demand ten bushels of pearls and a dowry of a thousand taels. How could that madam settle for just three hundred taels? She must think you have no money and are just taking up her daughter’s place, so she’s trying to get rid of you. That woman…”

For a long time, and out of shame, it was not easy to speak openly. Knowing you had nothing, they deliberately sold the three hundred taels as a favor, giving you ten days; if you didn’t have it by then, it would be awkward for you to show up. Even if you did show up, they would mock you, leading to humiliation and making it impossible for you to settle down—this is a trick to drive people away. Please think carefully and don’t be deceived by them. In my humble opinion, it’s better to settle things early.” Upon hearing this, the young man remained silent for a long time, filled with confusion. Liu Yuchun added, “Don’t make a mistake in your decision. If you really repay it, with just a little extra, someone might help you; but if you want those three hundred taels, even ten months won’t be enough. In these times, no one cares about urgency! They’re sure you have nowhere to seek repayment, so they’re deliberately making things difficult for you.” The young man said, “Your brother’s advice is sound.” Though he said this, he couldn’t bring himself to give up. He continued to seek help elsewhere, but stopped entering the courtyard at night.

The young man stayed at Liu Jiansheng’s residence for three days in a row, making it six days in total. Du Shiniang was very worried as she hadn’t seen him enter the courtyard for days, so she sent her servant Si Er to look for him on the street. Si Er found the young man on the street and called out, “Brother-in-law Li, your wife is waiting for you at home.” Feeling ashamed, the young man replied, “I can’t make it today; I’ll come tomorrow.” But Si Er, following Shiniang’s orders, grabbed him tightly and wouldn’t let go, saying, “Your wife asked us to find you, so you must come with us.” The young man also missed his wife, so he had no choice but to follow Si Er into the courtyard. When he saw Shiniang, he was speechless. Shiniang asked, “How did things go with your plan?” Tears streamed down the young man’s face. Shiniang asked, “Is it because people are ungenerous and can’t provide the three hundred taels?” The young man, with tears in his eyes, said two lines:

“I thought catching a tiger in the mountains was easy, but asking for help turns out to be hard indeed.
I’ve been running around for six days with not a single coin, coming empty-handed—too ashamed to face you, that’s why I haven’t dared enter the courtyard these days. Today, at your request, I came despite my shame. It’s not that I’m not trying; it’s just how the world is.”

Shiniang said, “Don’t let the old woman hear this. Stay here tonight; I have other plans.” She prepared food and drinks for the young man, and they drank together. In the middle of the night, Shiniang said to the young man, “Can you really not get a single penny? What should I do with my life?” The young man could only weep and say nothing. Gradually, dawn approached. Shiniang said, “Inside the padding of my bed, I’ve hidden 150 taels of silver—my personal savings. You can take it. For the three hundred taels, I’ll cover half, and you cover the other half; that way it will be easier. You have four days—don’t be late!” Shiniang got up and handed the padding to the young man, who was overjoyed. He sent a boy to take it away. He went straight to Liu Yuchun’s residence and told him what had happened overnight. When he opened the padding, he found pieces of silver wrapped inside—it was indeed 150 taels. Yuchun was shocked and said, “This woman…”

What a kind person. Since it’s out of sincerity, I must not fail them; I’ll arrange this for you.” The young man said, “If it works out, I certainly won’t let you down.” Immediately, Liu Yuchun kept Lord Li at his residence and went around borrowing money himself. Within two days, he gathered 150 taels and handed them to the young man, saying, “I’m taking on your debt not for you, but out of pity for Du Shiniang.”

Li Jia was overjoyed at having 300 taels of silver; his face lit up with joy as he happily went to see Shiniang. It was only the ninth day—not even ten yet. Shiniang asked, “It was impossible to borrow even a penny the other day; how did you get 150 taels today?” The young man recounted Liu’s situation once more. Shiniang placed her hand on her forehead and said, “It’s Liu who has enabled us to fulfill our wishes! The two of us were overjoyed and spent another night in the courtyard.”

The next day, Shiniang got up early and said to Li Jia, “Now that the money is given, I should go with you right away. We need to prepare for the journey. I borrowed 20 taels of silver from my sisters yesterday; you can keep that as travel funds.” The young man had been worried about the cost of travel but hadn’t dared to mention it; he was very pleased to receive the money. Before they could finish speaking, the brothel owner came knocking at the door and said, “Girl, today is the tenth day.” Hearing this, the young man opened the door and said, “Thank you for your kindness; I was just about to ask you to do this.” He then placed the 300 taels on the table. The brothel owner wasn’t expecting the young man to have such money; her expression changed, showing signs of regret. Shiniang said, “I’ve been in your house for eight years, and the amount of gold and silver I’ve given you amounts to thousands. Today is a day of marriage, arranged personally by you—300 taels is due in full, and no deadline has passed. If you break your promise and refuse to let me go, my husband will take the money and I’ll commit suicide immediately. Otherwise, we’ll lose both our lives, and it will be too late to regret it.” The brothel owner had no reply. After pondering for a while, she reluctantly agreed to give the money, saying, “Since things have come to this, I can’t keep you here. But if you’re leaving now, leave right away. Don’t even think about any clothes or belongings!” With that, she pushed the young man and Shiniang out of the room and locked the door. It was September at that time. Shiniang had just gotten out of bed and hadn’t yet dressed; wearing her old clothes, she bowed twice to her employer. Lord Li also bowed once. The couple left the brothel’s gate.

Like a carp that has slipped free from its golden hook, it swishes its tail and shakes its head—never to return.

The young man asked Shiniang to wait a moment: “I’ll go get a sedan chair to take you to Liu Rongqing’s residence first, so we can figure out what to do next.” Shiniang said, “My sisters in the courtyard have always been kind to me; I should say goodbye to them. Besides, they lent me money for the journey the other day; I must thank them.” So she went with the young man to say goodbye to each sister. Among them, only Xie Yuelang, Xu Susu, and those from the Du family lived nearby and were particularly close to Shiniang. Shiniang went to Xie Yuelang’s house first.

Under the bright moon, Yue Lang saw Du Shiniang with her bare head and old clothes, and asked in surprise what the reason was. Shiniang explained everything in detail and then introduced Li Jia to him. Shiniang pointed at Yue Lang and said, “The money for the journey the other day was lent by this sister here; sir, please express your gratitude.” Li Jia bowed repeatedly. Yue Lang then told Shiniang to get ready, while she went to invite Xu Susu over to their home. After Shiniang finished getting ready, the two beauties, Xie and Xu, each contributed what they had—jade hairpins and gold brooches, precious hair combs and earrings, silk sleeves and flowered dresses, as well as embroidered belts and shoes—transforming Du Shiniang completely. They prepared wine for a celebration feast. Yue Lang offered the bedroom for Li Jia and Du Shiniang to stay overnight. The next day, another grand feast was held, inviting all the sisters in the courtyard. Everyone who had been kind to Shiniang gathered there, toasting with the couple in joy. There were music, singing, and dancing, with everyone showing off their talents, aiming to make the most of the time until late at night. Shiniang thanked each sister one by one. The sisters said, “Sister Ten is the leader among us in terms of charm. Now that you’re leaving with your husband, we won’t see each other for a long time. When you leave, we will surely see you off.” Yue Lang replied, “Once there’s a set date, I’ll come and let you know. But since sister has to travel thousands of miles away with her husband, with little money, there’s no plan yet. This is something we need to discuss together, so that sister doesn’t have to worry about difficulties along the way.” The sisters all nodded and dispersed.

That evening, the young man and Shiniang stayed at the Xie family’s house. At dawn, Shiniang said to the young man, “Where will we settle once we leave? Have you thought of a solution?” The young man replied, “My father is extremely angry. If he finds out I’ve married a prostitute and brought her home, he’ll surely treat me harshly, causing trouble for me. After much thought, I still haven’t found a perfect solution.” Shiniang said, “Father and son are bound by natural affection; how can it be completely severed? Since it’s difficult to act rashly now, why not temporarily settle in some beautiful places like Suzhou or Hangzhou? You go back first and ask friends and relatives to intercede with your father to reconcile things, then bring me back with you, and we can both be safe.” The young man agreed that this was a good idea. The next day, the two left, bid farewell to Yue Lang, and went to Liu Jiansheng’s residence to pack their belongings. When Du Shiniang saw Liu Yuchun, she knelt down to thank him for his kindness, saying, “One day, my husband and I will definitely repay you.” Yuchun hurriedly returned the favor, saying, “Shiniang is truly devoted to love and won’t change her heart despite poverty—she’s a true heroine among women. My efforts are nothing compared to hers!” The three drank together for another day. Early the next morning, they chose an auspicious day for departure and arranged for a sedan chair and horses. Shiniang also sent a servant to send a letter to thank Yue Lang again. Just before they left, many sedan chairs arrived—Yue Lang and Xu Susu had brought all the sisters to see them off. Yue Lang said, “Sister Ten has traveled thousands of miles with her husband, with little money. We really can’t forget her. Here’s some modest gift for you; you can take it, as it might help during the long journey.” She then ordered her servants to bring forward a beautifully wrapped package, sealed tightly—no one knew what was inside. Shiniang neither opened it nor declined it, but simply expressed her gratitude earnestly. Soon, all the sedan chairs and horses were ready, and the servants urged them to set off. Liu Jiansheng gave them three cups of farewell wine, and together with the beauties, they saw them off beyond Chongwen Gate, all crying as they parted. Truly:

Reunion in the future is uncertain; parting now is most heartbreaking.

Back to the story, Young Master Li and Du Shiniang reached the Lu River and switched from land travel to boat travel. Happily, there was a ship returning from Guazhou that could take them. After agreeing on the fare, they reserved a cabin. By the time they got off the ship, the young man had no money left at all. You might wonder how Du Shiniang gave the young man twenty taels of silver only to have it disappear so quickly. The young man had spent his money on clothes while in the brothel, and after getting the silver, he used some of it to buy more clothes from the pawnshop and prepare bedding. All that was left was enough for the sedan chair and horses. As the young man was worried, Shiniang said, “Don’t worry, dear sir; the sisters…”

“It’s given as a gift; surely it will be of some use.” Then he took the key and opened the box. The young man felt ashamed and dared not peek inside to see what was in it. Only to see that Shi Niang took out a red silk bag from the box and threw it on the table, saying, “My lord, please open it and take a look.” The young man picked it up; it felt heavy. Upon inspection, it contained silver coins—exactly fifty taels. Shi Niang locked the box again, saying nothing about what else might be inside. She simply said to the young man, “Thanks to the kindness of my sisters, not only will we have no lack of funds on our journey, but even if we stay in Wu and Yue in the future, it will help cover the expenses for our travels.” The young man was both surprised and delighted, saying, “If it weren’t for your kindness, I, Li Jia, would have been stranded with nowhere to die. I will never forget this kindness and grace!” From then on, whenever they talked about the past, the young man would be moved to tears, and Shi Niang would comfort him gently. There was no conversation along the way.

After a day or so, they arrived at Guazhou. The large ship stopped at the shore, and the young man hired another boat to carry his belongings. They agreed to cross the river early the next morning. It was mid-winter, with a bright moon shining like water. The young man and Shi Niang sat at the bow of the boat. The young man said, “Since leaving the capital, I’ve been confined to one cabin, surrounded by people, unable to speak freely. Today, we’re alone on this boat, with no need to be cautious. We’ve left the northern regions and are approaching the south; it’s time to drink heartily and relieve the pent-up emotions. What do you think?” Shi Niang replied, “I’ve long been away from chatting and laughing, but I share your feelings. Your words show we have similar thoughts.” So the young man brought the wine to the bow, spread a mat, and sat down with Shi Niang, passing the cups back and forth. As they drank, the young man held the cup and said to Shi Niang, “Your beautiful voice is renowned among all women. When I first met you, hearing your exquisite singing always stirred my soul. Our hearts were often entangled, yet we remained silent—like a phoenix and a bird not singing together for so long. Now, with the clear river and bright moon, and no one around at night, would you sing for me?” Shi Niang was also inspired and began to sing, using a fan to keep time, singing the tune “Xiao Taohong” from the Yuan dynasty playwright Shi Junmei’s play “The Moon-Gazing Pavilion,” titled “The Scholar Holds the Cup with the Beauty.” Truly:

Her voice soared to the heavens, stopping all sound; its resonance reached the deep springs, making fish swim away.
Meanwhile, on another boat was a young man named Sun Fu, styled Shanchen, from Xin’an, Huizhou. He was extremely wealthy, having inherited his family’s salt business in Yangzhou. At twenty years old, he was also a friend from Nan Yong. He was a flirtatious man who liked to spend time in brothels and enjoy the company of beauties, treating life like a game. By chance, that night he was also moored at Guazhou Ferry, drinking alone out of boredom. Suddenly, he heard a beautiful song, so melodious it was hard to describe. He stood at the bow of his boat and listened for a while before realizing the sound came from the neighboring boat. He wanted to go visit, but the music suddenly stopped. So he sent a servant to investigate and ask the boatman. He learned that it was a boat hired by Lord Li, but he didn’t know who the singer was. Sun Fu thought, “This singer must not be from a respectable family. How can I meet her?” He racked his brains searching...

Pondering, I stayed awake all night. By dawn, I suddenly heard a strong wind from the river. When day broke, dark clouds covered the sky, and fierce snowflakes flew everywhere. To witness this, here is a poem as proof:

Clouds and trees vanish over a thousand mountains;
No traces of people along countless paths.

An old man in a straw cloak rows a small boat,
Fishing alone in the snowy river.

Due to the wind and snow, the boat couldn’t set sail. Sun Fu ordered the helmsman to move the boat and moor it beside Li Jia’s boat. Sun Fu, wearing a sable hat and fox fur coat, pretended to watch the snow through the window. Shi Niang had just finished dressing; her delicate hands lifted the short curtain beside the boat to splash some remaining water from a basin on herself. Her fair face was slightly visible, but Sun Fu caught a glimpse of it—truly a beauty of unparalleled grace. His heart trembled as he gazed at her, longing to see her again, yet it seemed impossible. After pondering for a while, he leaned against the window and recited two lines from Gao Xueshi’s poem about plum blossoms:

Snow covers the mountains where the reclusive sage lies;
The moon shines beneath the trees as the beautiful woman arrives.

Li Jia heard someone reciting poetry from the neighboring boat, so he poked his head out of the cabin to see who it was. This very action fell right into Sun Fu’s plan. By reciting poetry, Sun Fu wanted to draw Li Jia out so he could take the opportunity to strike up a conversation. Immediately, Li Jia raised his hand and asked, “What is your honorable surname?” Li Jia introduced himself, and naturally, he also asked about Sun Fu. Sun Fu did the same, then they talked about various matters related to the imperial academy, gradually becoming more familiar with each other. Sun Fu said, “The wind and snow have prevented our boat from sailing, but it seems fate has brought us together—truly a fortune for me. Since we’re stuck here, I’d like to go ashore with you and have a drink at an inn, to hear some wise words from you. I hope you won’t refuse.” The young man replied, “We’ve just met; how could I impose such a burden?” Sun Fu said, “What are you talking about? ‘All those within the four seas are brothers.’” He ordered the helmsman to prepare a boat and the boys to hold umbrellas to help the young man cross over, then bowed at the bow of the boat. After that, he let the young man go first, followed by himself, both stepping onto the shore.

After walking a few steps, they came across an inn. The two went upstairs and chose a clean seat by the window. The waiter brought out drinks and dishes. Sun Fu raised his cup to toast, and the two enjoyed the snow and drank together. At first, they exchanged polite remarks, gradually moving on to topics related to women. Both were experienced in such matters and shared similar interests, so they got along well and soon became close friends. Sun Fu pulled aside those around them and asked softly, “Who was the one who sang beautifully on your boat last night?” Li Jia, wanting to show off his knowledge, replied truthfully, “That was Du Shi Niang, a famous singer from Beijing.” Sun Fu asked, “Since she’s a singer, why is she with you?” The young man then recounted in detail how he first met Du Shi Niang, how they fell in love, how she wanted to marry him, and how he borrowed money from her—telling the whole story. Sun Fu…

The young man said, “It’s certainly a joy for an elder brother to return with a beautiful woman, but I wonder if our family will accept her?” The young master replied, “My humble abode is not a concern; what worries me is my strict father, who might cause hesitation!” Sun Fu seized the opportunity and asked, “Since your father may not approve, where will your sister-in-law settle? Have you discussed this with her and come up with a plan?” The young master frowned and answered, “I’ve discussed this with my concubine.” Sun Fu asked eagerly, “Your wisdom must have some excellent solution.” The young man said, “She wants to live in Suzhou or Hangzhou, enjoying the scenery. She asks me to return first and ask friends and relatives to intercede with my father. Once he turns his anger into joy, then we can consider returning together. What do you think?” Sun Fu pondered for a while, then pretended to look worried and said, “I’ve only just met her, and our relationship is still shallow. I’m afraid it might seem strange.” The young man said, “I rely on your wisdom—why be modest?” Sun Fu replied, “Your father holds a high position and is very cautious about such matters. He already disapproves of you going to improper places; how could he allow you to marry an immoral woman? Besides, who among the wise and noble wouldn’t try to please your father? If you go to ask them, they’ll surely refuse. Even if someone imprudent suggests it to your father, once he rejects it, they’ll change their tune. You won’t be able to reconcile things at home, nor will you have an excuse to explain to your father. Even if you stay in the countryside, it’s not a long-term solution. What if your funds run out? You’ll be in a difficult situation!”

The young man knew he only had fifty gold pieces left, and most of it had already been spent. Hearing about being in a difficult situation with no way out, he nodded in agreement. Sun Fu continued, “I have another confidential matter I’d like to discuss. Will you listen?” The young man said, “Thanks to your kindness, I hope you’ll share everything with me.” Sun Fu replied, “It’s better not to say anything that might alienate us.” The young man insisted, “Go ahead and speak!” Sun Fu said, “As the saying goes, ‘Women are fickle by nature.’ Moreover, those from the entertainment world are mostly false. Since she’s a famous beauty from the imperial harem, she must have many acquaintances everywhere. Perhaps she has an old connection in the south, and she’s using you as a means to get there, thinking it’s a suitable place for her.” The young man said, “That’s not necessarily true.” Sun Fu replied, “If not, then the men in the south are known for their frivolity. If you leave her alone, there’s a risk she might break in. If you take her with you, it will only increase your father’s anger. I don’t see any good solution for you. Besides, the bond between father and son must not be broken. If you offend your father because of a concubine and abandon your family because of a prostitute, everyone will regard you as a reckless man. One day, your wife won’t treat you as her husband, your brothers won’t regard you as their elder brother, and your friends won’t see you as a friend. How can you stand in this world? You must think carefully about this today!”

Hearing this, the young man was lost in thought. He moved closer and asked for advice, “What do you suggest, given your wisdom?” Sun Fu said, “I have a plan that would be very convenient for you. But I’m afraid you might be too indulged in your love affairs and not be able to carry it out, leaving me to speak in vain!” The young man said, “If you truly have a good plan that allows me to enjoy my family again, you’re truly my savior. Why hesitate to tell me?” Sun Fu replied, “You’ve been wandering for over a year, with your strict father angry and your loved ones apart from you. If I were in your shoes, I’d be extremely troubled. But the reason your father is angry with you is not…”

Being overly infatuated with women and spending money recklessly, one will surely become someone who abandons his family and ruins his assets in the future, unfit to inherit the family business. Listen! Brother returns empty-handed today, which has angered him. If brother can put aside such attachments and act wisely, I am willing to give him a thousand pieces of gold. With this money, brother can repay our father, claiming he merely taught in the capital without wasting a single penny—our father will surely believe it. From now on, harmony will reign in the family, with no more disputes. In just a short while, misfortune can turn into fortune. Please think carefully, brother. I’m not greedy for a woman’s beauty; I truly do this to serve you loyally!” Li Jia was originally indecisive and feared his father. After Sun Fu’s words cleared up his doubts, he stood up, bowed, and said, “Your advice has enlightened me. But my concubine has followed me from afar; it’s hard to end our relationship so abruptly. Let me go back and discuss it with her. If she agrees, I’ll return.” Sun Fu said, “When speaking, one should be tactful. Since she is loyal to you, she surely won’t bear to see you separated from your father and will definitely help you resolve this matter.” The two drank together. The wind stopped, the snow ceased, and it grew late. Sun Fu instructed his servant to pay for the wine, then accompanied the young man and his men back to the boat. As the saying goes:

“Speak sparingly when meeting others; don’t reveal all your feelings at once.”

Meanwhile, Du Shiniang was in the boat, preparing wine and food to have a drink with the young man. He hadn’t returned all day, so she waited by the light. When the young man got off the boat, Shiniang went to greet him. Seeing his worried expression, she filled a cup with hot wine to persuade him to drink. He shook his head, refused to drink, said nothing, and went straight to bed. Disappointed, Shiniang cleared the dishes, helped him undress, and lay down beside him. She asked, “What happened today that makes you so gloomy?” He only sighed, refusing to speak. After asking several times, he fell asleep. Shiniang couldn’t decide what to do and sat by the bed, unable to sleep. At midnight, the young man woke up and sighed again. Shiniang said, “My dear, what is troubling you so much that you keep sighing?” He covered himself with the blanket and tried to speak but failed several times before tears streamed down his face. Shiniang held him in her arms and comforted him gently, saying, “Our love has lasted two years. Through countless hardships, we’ve made it to this day. Yet, even after traveling thousands of miles, we’ve never been sad. Now, as we’re about to cross the river and enjoy a lifetime of happiness, why are we feeling sad? There must be a reason. In marriage, one should face life and death together. Anything can be discussed—never hide anything.”

Under persistent pressure, the young man finally spoke through tears, “I’m poor and stranded far from home. It’s a great kindness from you to not abandon me and to accompany me despite the difficulties. But after careful thought, my father holds a high position and is bound by rules and traditions. Moreover, he’s strict by nature. I fear his anger will lead to my expulsion. Where will we go then? Our marriage will be at risk, and our father-son relationship will be severed. During the day, Sun Fu from Xin’an invited me for a drink and suggested solving this issue—it breaks my heart!” Shiniang was shocked and asked, “What do you plan to do?” The young man replied, “It’s a matter related to my family…”

“The man in power is deluded. Sun You has devised a quite good plan for me, but I fear you won’t agree to it!” Lady Shi said, “Who is Sun You? If his plan is good, why not follow it?” The young man replied, “Sun You’s name is Fu; he’s a salt merchant from Xin’an, a charming young man. Last night, after hearing your beautiful singing, he asked about you. I told him my background and mentioned the difficulties of returning home. He wants to offer a thousand pieces of gold to marry you. With that money, I could use it as an excuse to see my parents, and you would also be taken care of. But I can’t bear to leave, which is why I weep.” As he spoke, tears streamed down like rain.

Lady Shi released her hands and sneered, “The one who devised this plan for you is truly a great hero! Now that you can regain your thousand pieces of gold, and I can marry someone else without being a burden, it’s a solution that satisfies both our feelings and propriety. Where is that thousand pieces of gold?” The young man wiped away his tears and said, “Since I haven’t gotten your consent, the gold is still there; I haven’t taken it yet.” Lady Shi said, “Agree to it early tomorrow morning—otherwise, the opportunity will be lost. But since it’s such a large sum, it must be handed over to you before I board the boat, so I won’t be deceived by that worthless man.” It was already four o’clock in the morning. Lady Shi got up, lit a lamp, and began to get ready, saying, “Today’s makeup is for bidding farewell to the old and welcoming the new—it’s nothing ordinary.” She applied cosmetics generously, wore a robe adorned with flowers and embroidery, looking extremely gorgeous, with a fragrant aura surrounding her. By the time she finished dressing, dawn had broken.

Sun Fu sent a servant to the boat to wait for news. Lady Shi glanced at the young man, seeing a hint of joy on his face, so she urged him to go back quickly and confirm the agreement, so the money could be delivered soon. The young man went to Sun Fu’s boat and confirmed his agreement. Sun Fu said, “Money is easy to arrange; what’s needed as proof is a beauty’s dressing table.” The young man relayed this to Lady Shi, who then pointed to the gilded writing set and said, “It can be brought over right away.” Sun Fu was very pleased. He sent a thousand taels of silver to the young man’s boat. Lady Shi personally checked to ensure the amount and quality were correct, then grabbed the boat’s railing and signaled Sun Fu. When Sun Fu saw her, he was stunned. Lady Shi, with her red lips and white teeth, said, “The box from earlier can be sent over temporarily; it contains a document for Master Li, which can be returned.” Sun Fu thought Lady Shi was already under his control, so he ordered his servant to bring the gilded writing set and place it on the boat’s bow. Lady Shi used a key to open it; inside were several small boxes. She asked the young man to take out the first one, revealing jade feathers, precious hairpins, and earrings, worth hundreds of pieces of gold. She immediately threw them into the river. Li Jia, Sun Fu, and everyone on the boats were shocked. She then asked the young man to take out another box, which contained jade flutes and gold instruments; another box held ancient jades and purple gold ornaments, worth thousands of pieces of gold. She threw all of them into the river. People on the shore watched in amazement, exclaiming, “What a pity!” They didn’t understand why. Finally, she took out one last box, which contained another chest. When opened, it held a handful of luminous pearls. There were also emeralds, cat’s eyes, and various other rare treasures never seen before, whose value was impossible to determine. Everyone cheered loudly. Lady Shi tried to throw them into the river as well. Li Jia regretted it deeply, holding Lady Shi and crying bitterly. Sun Fu also came to try to persuade her.

Shi Niang pushed the young master aside and cursed Sun Fu, saying, “I and Lord Li have endured many hardships to reach this point. It was not easy. You, with your lustful intentions, spread slanderous lies, ruining our marriage and severing our affection—thus becoming my enemy. Even in death, if I have consciousness, I will surely complain to the gods. How dare you still dream of pleasure with me!” She then said to Li Jia, “I have spent years in the world of pleasure, amassing wealth for my own future. After meeting you, we made vows to stay together until old age. Before leaving the city, I pretended it was gifts from my sisters; inside the box were countless treasures worth tens of thousands of gold pieces. They were meant to help you dress properly when you returned to see your parents, so that they might pity my sincerity and accept them as a gift, allowing us to be together forever without regret. Who would have thought you wouldn’t trust me fully, would be deceived by rumors, and abandon me halfway, betraying my true feelings? Today, in front of everyone, I’ll open the box to show you that even a small amount of money isn’t a problem. I have jade in my chest, yet alas, there are no pearls in your eyes. Fate has been cruel to me; after escaping hardship, I’m abandoned again. Now, with everyone witnessing this, I prove that I haven’t betrayed you—it’s you who have betrayed me!” All those who gathered to watch were moved to tears, cursing Young Master Li as heartless and ungrateful. The young master felt ashamed and distressed, filled with remorse and tears, ready to apologize to Shi Niang. But she held the treasure box and jumped into the river. Everyone rushed to try and save her, but all they saw was dark waters and rolling waves—no trace of her. What a pity that such a beautiful woman was lost to the fish in the river!

Her three souls drifted back to the water realm, while her seven spirits wandered into the underworld.

The onlookers were furious, eager to beat Li Jia and Sun Fu. Panicked, Li and Sun fled in different directions. On the boat, Li Jia looked at the treasures and thought of Shi Niang, feeling guilty every day until he became insane and never recovered. Sun Fu, shaken by the incident, fell ill and lay in bed for over a month, constantly hearing Shi Niang’s reproaches until he died. People believed it was retribution from the river.

Meanwhile, Liu Yuchun completed his sentence in the capital and returned home, stopping his boat at Guabu. While washing his face by the river, he dropped a copper basin into the water and asked a fisherman to retrieve it. When it was brought up, it turned out to be a small box. Yuchun opened it and found precious gems and invaluable treasures inside. He rewarded the fisherman generously and kept the box by his bed to admire. That night, he dreamed of a woman coming from the river. Upon closer inspection, it was Du Shi Niang. She greeted him warmly, told him about Lord Li’s betrayal, and said, “I once received your generous help of 150 gold pieces. I intended to repay you later, but things didn’t go as planned. Yet I still remember your kindness deeply. This morning, I sent this small box through the fisherman as a token of my gratitude. From now on, we won’t meet again.” After saying this, she suddenly woke him up. Realizing Shi Niang was dead, he lamented for days.

Later generations commented on this incident, saying that Sun Fumou sought beauty at the expense of great wealth, clearly not a virtuous man; Li Jia failed to understand Du Shiniang’s sincere feelings and was nothing but a mediocre and foolish person. Yet Shiniang is regarded as a heroine through the ages—how could she not find a good partner to share her life? Instead, she mistook Lord Li. Precious pearls and jade were given to a blind man, turning kindness into enmity, and all her affection turned to nothingness—a great pity! There is a poem that laments:

Do not talk rashly about romance; the concept of love is hard to comprehend.

If one can truly understand love, then engaging in romance need not bring shame. Volume 33: Qiao Yanjie I – The Ruin of a Family

The complexities of the world are hard to explain; those who understand the ways will avoid mistakes throughout their lives.

Those who cause the downfall of nations and families are always those who are greedy for pleasure and lust.

It is said that in the first year of the Mingdao era under Emperor Renzong of the Song Dynasty, in Ninghai County of Zhejiang Province—what is now Hangzhou—near Guanyin Temple at the north end of Zhong’an Bridge, there lived a merchant named Qiao Jun, styled Yanjie, whose ancestral home was Qiantang. He lost his parents at a young age and grew up tall and strong, with a penchant for lust and debauchery. He married a woman surnamed Gao. Both were forty years old when they married, and they had no sons—only one daughter, eighteen years old, nicknamed Yuxiu. The three of them lived together with just one servant named Sai Er. Qiao Jun seemed to have thirty to fifty thousand strings of cash in assets, invested mainly in buying silk in Chang’an Chongde, selling it in Dongjing, and bringing back dates, walnuts, and other goods to sell. He was away from home for half the year. He left Sai Er in charge of running a tavern at his house, employing a winemaker named Hong San to produce wine there. His wife, Gao, handled all financial matters daily, without any issues.

In the spring of the second year of Mingdao, after selling the silk in Dongjing, Qiao Jun bought walnuts, dates, and other goods. His ship arrived at Xinshang River in Nanjing, ready to set sail, but was delayed by the wind. They stayed for three days as the wind was too strong to proceed. Suddenly, he saw a beautiful woman on another ship, with skin as white as snow and hair tied in a black cloud-like bun. Upon seeing her, Qiao Jun fell deeply in love with her. He asked the boatman, “Who are the guests on your ship? Why is there a lady among them?” The boatman replied, “It’s the widow of a local official from Jiankang who has passed away; now her family is taking his coffin back to Shandong. This young woman is the official’s concubine. Why do you ask?” Qiao Jun said, “Boatman, go and ask the official’s wife if she would be willing to give me this woman as a concubine. If it works out, I’ll give you five taels of silver as a reward.” The boatman went down to the cabin to discuss the matter. After a short conversation, Qiao Jun was allowed to marry this woman as a concubine.

The whole family lost their head because of him; their vast wealth was about to vanish.

At that moment, a messenger from another ship went down to the old lady’s cabin and asked, “Madam, would this young lady be willing to marry someone?” The old lady replied, “What good reasons do you have to suggest her for marriage? If anyone wants to marry her, she should agree, but only if they bring a dowry of a thousand taels of silver.” The messenger said, “There’s a merchant on the neighboring ship who wants to marry one of the concubines and has sent me to inform you.” The old lady agreed. The messenger then told Qiao Jun, “The madam agrees to give her to you, but she wants a dowry of a thousand taels of silver!” Hearing this, Qiao Jun was overjoyed. He immediately opened his chest, took out a thousand taels of silver, and asked the messenger to deliver it to the madam’s ship. She accepted it and told the messenger to invite Qiao Jun over to meet her. Qiao Jun changed his clothes and went straight to her ship to pay his respects. After learning his full name, the old lady ordered her maids to come forward and said, “Your husband has died, and our son is still young. I will decide to marry you off as a concubine to this official. You should go to Officer Qiao’s ship right away, to Dama Tou in Ninghai County, and live a happy life there. Be careful in serving him and don’t be presumptuous!” The woman bid farewell to the old lady along with Qiao Jun, and the old lady sent her a chest full of clothes and other belongings to her new home. Qiao Jun gave the messenger five taels of silver as thanks. He was very happy and asked the woman, “What’s your name?” She replied, “My name is Chunxiang, and I’m twenty-five years old.” That night, he slept in the same bed as Chunxiang on the ship.

The next day, the weather cleared up, the wind stopped, and the waves calmed down. All the ships set sail together. After traveling for five or six days, Qiao Jun arrived at Beixin Pass early in the morning. He got off the ship and had Chunxiang carried in a sedan chair, followed by himself, as they entered Wulin Gate. When they reached his house, he got out of the sedan chair and sent it away. Qiao Jun led Chunxiang inside the house. First, he went inside to meet Lady Gao and told her what had happened. Then he brought Chunxiang in to introduce her. When Lady Gao saw Chunxiang, she became anxious and said, “Husband, since you’ve already married her, I can’t refuse anymore. But you must do as I say—just two things, and I’ll allow it.” Qiao Jun asked, “What are those two things?” What Lady Gao said left Qiao Jun with no place to turn to. It was truly true that:

A wife’s words should not be heeded; they destroy family ties and the five relationships.

Don’t trust a wife’s words—how many men are there in the world?

Lady Gao then said to her husband, “Now that you’ve married her, it’s pointless for me to say anything. All I want is for you to let her live separately from us; she must not stay in the house!” Hearing this, Qiao Jun said, “That’s easy. I’ll rent a separate house for her to live in.” Lady Gao added, “Starting today, I won’t live with you anymore. The house…”

The money, goods, jewelry, and clothes—I’ll keep them for myself and my daughter; you’re not allowed to claim them. As for all matters related to government offices and such, you must have that wretched maid take care of them. Stop bothering me anymore. Will you agree?” Qiao Jun pondered for a long time, thinking to himself, “If I refuse, it will be hard to get by. Fine!” So he said, “I’ll do as you say.” Lady Gao remained silent. The next day, she got up early to pack her belongings and head home. She asked someone to rent a room in front of the Copper Coin Office—which is where the Imperial Examinations Hall is now. Choosing an auspicious day, Qiao Jun took Zhou Shi with him, packed up all their belongings, and moved there. After staying there for three days or two nights, he returned home once.

Time flew by like an arrow, and before they knew it, more than half a year had passed. Qiao Jun settled the accounts related to the people he employed and the silver he kept in private, using that as capital. He finished collecting silk and arranged for household necessities. He told Zhou Shi, “You need to be patient. I’ll be back in just a couple of months. If anything urgent happens, you can go to my wife’s house and let them know.” After saying that, he went home and told Lady Gao, “I’ll set off tomorrow. I’ll be back in just a couple of months. If anything goes wrong, please take care of Zhou Shi out of respect for our marriage!” His daughter said, “Father, come back soon!” After bidding farewell to his wife and daughter, he went to his new residence to prepare for departure the next morning. It was September at that time, and he boarded a boat to set off on his journey.

Two months passed, and Zhou Shi sat by the door at home, waiting day after day for her husband to return, but he never showed up. Soon winter arrived. That year was extremely cold. One evening, dark clouds gathered, and heavy snow began to fall. Lady Gao wondered why her husband hadn’t returned even after winter had set in. Zhou Shi was suffering from the cold, and her child was also seriously ill and unable to get out of bed. So she asked Hong San to bring some food, firewood, and money to Zhou Shi. Seeing the heavy snow, Zhou Shi stayed indoors crying. When she heard knocking at the door, she thought it was her husband returning, so she hurriedly opened the door only to see Hong Da Gong carrying supplies inside. Zhou Shi asked the worker, “How are my sister-in-law and elder sister?” The worker replied, “My sister-in-law, worried that you have no money since your husband hasn’t returned, sent me to give you food, firewood, and money.” Hearing this, Zhou Shi said, “Worker, please go back home and give my sister-in-law and elder sister my regards!” The worker bid farewell and went back home.

The next day, around noon, someone knocked at Zhou Shi’s door again. Zhou Shi thought, “With such heavy snow, who could it be?” But this person’s arrival would ultimately prevent Zhou Shi from being reunited with Qiao Jun. As the saying goes:

Sitting indoors with the door closed, disaster comes from above.

That day, the snow fell even harder. Zhou Shi was by the fire in her room when she suddenly heard someone knocking at the door. She got up to open it and saw a man wearing a tattered headscarf and old clothes. He asked Zhou Shi, “Sister-in-law, where is Qiao Jun?”

“Is he at home?” Mrs. Zhou replied, “He hasn’t returned since leaving in September.” The man said, “I am the village head. I’ve sent Qiao Jun to Haining to work on building river dikes—ten days of work, then twenty days off, and again ten days of work. Since he’s not at home, I’ll find someone for you to hire to do the work.” Mrs. Zhou said, “If that’s the case, just arrange for someone to take his place; I’ll pay them accordingly.” The village head bid farewell and left. The next day, after dinner, he brought a young man, about twenty years old, to meet Mrs. Zhou. The village head told her, “This man is from Shanghai County; his surname is Dong and his name is Xiao Er. His parents died when he was young. Now he relies on working for others to make a living. He asks for three to five hundred strings of money per year, along with clothes for winter and summer. Since there’s no one else in your household, it would be good to hire him to work here.” Hearing this, Mrs. Zhou was pleased and thought, “Indeed, there’s no one to do chores in my house. This man seems honest and hardworking; I’ll agree to your terms regarding the payment.” She thanked the village head and kept him in her house. The next day, the village head came to call him to go to Haining to work. Mrs. Zhou gave some money to Xiao Er, who followed the village head for ten days before returning. Xiao Er was careful and diligent at home, burning incense, sweeping the floor, and handling everything with care.

Meanwhile, Qiao Jun was selling silk in Dongjing and had an affair with a woman named Shen Ruilian from a wealthy family. He spent all his money there and became attached to her life, ignoring his wife and concubines entirely, indulging in pleasure. Unbeknownst to him, his child had been sick for over two months before dying. Mrs. Gao asked Hong San to buy a coffin and take it outside the city to burn the body. Mrs. Gao remained chaste, selling wine at her doorstep without any improper thoughts. But ever since Mrs. Zhou hired Dong Xiao Er to work in her house, she began to have feelings for him. Sometimes, when he returned from work, she would bring him hot soup and food. Seeing that there was no one else in the house, Xiao Er worked diligently. Mrs. Zhou often tried to flirt with him. Xiao Er also had feelings, but he didn’t dare to take the initiative.

One night, on December 30th, Mrs. Zhou asked Xiao Er to buy some wine, fruits, fish, and meat for the New Year. In the evening, she told Xiao Er to close the door, prepare some wine by the stove, cut some meat, set up a brazier, light a lamp, and place everything on the table in front of the bed. While Xiao Er was cooking by the stove, Mrs. Zhou softly called out, “Xiao Er, come to the room and eat something!” Without hesitation, Xiao Er entered the room, which would later cost him his life. As the saying goes:

It’s necessary to have a servant, but who would have thought he’d encounter such a bad one?

It was clearly a suspicious situation, hidden from a proper man.

At this moment, Lady Zhou called the servant over to the bed and said, “Servant, come here. I’ll drink two cups of wine with you. Sleep in my room tonight.” The servant replied, “I dare not!” Lady Zhou cursed him a couple of times as “barbarian,” then picked him up and sat down beside him on the bed. She pulled the servant close, unfastened her belt, and let him touch her breasts, which were like white milk. The servant’s lust grew, so he pulled Lady Zhou’s face toward his and used his tongue inside her mouth, indulging in pleasure. Lady Zhou poured wine, and the two drank from the same cup—five or six cups in total. Lady Zhou said, “You rest outside; I’ll rest in the room too, as it’s too cold. You’re not lucky enough to have what I offer.” The servant knelt down and said, “I’m grateful for your kindness, madam. I’ve long desired this, but didn’t dare to speak up. Today, with your generosity, I can never repay this kindness.” After speaking, they took off their clothes and became husband and wife. Their night together was filled with joy, needful no further description. When dawn came, the servant got up first to boil water, wash dishes, and cook. Lady Zhou then got up, dressed up, washed her face, and had breakfast. It was truly:

A young man and a young woman, whose love was equal.

They lived like husband and wife at home, and all the neighbors knew about it, yet no one interfered.

Meanwhile, because no one was taking care of the inn in front of her house, one day Lady Gao heard idle talk saying, “Lady Zhou is having an affair with the servant.” She was both convinced and skeptical, feeling uneasy. So she sent Hong Da Gong to tell Lady Zhou, “Move back home to avoid trouble for both families.” When Lady Zhou heard Hong Da Gong’s message, she pondered for a while before reluctantly agreeing, “Since it’s your kind intention, I’ll move back home tonight.” Hong Da Gong left happily with her words. Lady Zhou then discussed the situation with the servant, “Now that my sister-in-law wants me to move back, I can’t refuse. But what about you?” The servant replied, “Madam, there’s no one at my sister-in-law’s place either. I’d be happy to deliver wine there. But one thing—unlike here, I won’t be able to enjoy myself with you. Otherwise, let’s part ways today.” After saying this, they hugged each other and cried. Lady Zhou said, “Don’t worry. I’ll pack my clothes and belongings, and you can help me carry them back to my sister-in-law’s house. I’ll talk to her and ask her to let you stay and enjoy yourself with me secretly. We’ll figure something out once my husband returns.” Hearing this, the servant felt relieved and happy. He replied, “Please take good care of everything, madam!” That afternoon, they finished packing. The servant brought the boxes first. As dusk fell, Hong Da Gong went to pick up Lady Zhou with a lantern. Lady Zhou locked the door and went home with the servant. It was truly:

A moth flying into fire will surely perish; a bat throwing itself at a pole will surely die.

At that time, Xiao Er and Lady Zhou returned home and met Lady Gao. Lady Gao said, “Now that you’re living together at home, why bring Xiao Er back? Why not send him away?” Lady Zhou replied, “There’s no one to take care of things in front of the master’s house; it’s better to keep him here to help out. We can send him away once my husband returns.” Lady Gao was a clean-minded person. She thought to herself, “In my own home, I’ll take care of him myself. What do I need soap or thread for?” So she kept him and taught him how to run the shop and fetch wine—everything he needed to know. Before long, several months passed. Although Lady Zhou had feelings for Xiao Er, they couldn’t indulge in pleasure as freely as when they lived alone. One day, Lady Zhou heard Lady Gao praising Xiao Er for his diligence and integrity, and she said, “Why doesn’t the master arrange a marriage between my elder daughter and Xiao Er? Wouldn’t that be good?” Lady Gao became furious upon hearing this and scolded her, saying, “You wretched woman! How dare you think of having a servant as your son-in-law?” Lady Zhou didn’t dare speak and endured Lady Gao’s insults for three or four days. Lady Gao, relying on her own superiority, never considered that Lady Zhou was having an affair with her, which was why she wanted to arrange such a marriage. If she had thought about it properly, she would have simply sent Xiao Er away, so as to avoid ending up dead in prison along with her daughter, with her entire family destroyed.

As for Xiao Er, he had been at the house for three months. As the old saying goes, “One year as a hired worker, two years as a family member, three years as a grandfather.” Unexpectedly, Qiao Jun never returned. After more than a year at Lady Gao’s house, Xiao Er was entrusted with various tasks, including entering and leaving the rooms, thus acting like a “grandfather” in the Qiao family and bullying Hong San. Early or late, whenever he saw Yu Xiu, he would tease her verbally, day after day. Eventually, Yu Xiu was deceived by Xiao Er. Lady Zhou was aware of this but kept it hidden from Lady Gao.

Another month passed. It was mid-June, and the weather was extremely hot. Yu Xiu was bathing in her room. Lady Gao entered the room and was shocked to see her daughter’s breasts had grown. After Yu Xiu got dressed, Lady Gao called her over and asked, “Who has touched your body? Why have your breasts grown so much? Tell me the truth, and I’ll spare you!” Yu Xiu couldn’t deny it and admitted, “Xiao Er tricked me.” Lady Gao cried out in pain, “It’s all because of that wretched woman! She ruined my daughter! What should I do?” She wanted to make a fuss, but feared that others would find out, ruining her daughter’s life forever. After pondering for a while, she furrowed her brows and came up with a plan: the only way to prevent others from finding out was to get rid of that brute.

Another two months passed. Suddenly, the Mid-Autumn Festival arrived. Lady Gao asked Xiao Er to buy some fish, meat, fruits, and other items to prepare a family feast. That evening, Lady Gao, Lady Zhou, and Yu Xiu enjoyed the moon in the backyard, while Hong San and Xiao Er ate separately. At midnight, Lady Gao ordered Xiao Er to drink two large bowls of wine. Xiao Er didn’t dare refuse and drank them all at once, becoming drunk and collapsing. Hong San also had some wine and went to sleep in the wine cellar. Because of his drunkenness, Xiao Er fell for Lady Gao’s scheme, and that very night...

A new dead ghost was added to Dongyue; no young men were seen in the living world.

At that time, Lady Gao sent her daughter to bed and then said to Lady Zhou, “I only handle household affairs and business. How could I have known that you were having an affair with this barbarian? You two conspired together to trick him into raping my daughter. What am I supposed to say when my husband returns? I’m an honest person, and now that I’ve married you, you’ve tarnished my family’s reputation. What shall I do? Today, I have no choice but to kill this barbarian secretly, so that neither gods nor ghosts will know. If my husband returns, both you and my daughter will avoid shame and be fine. Go and get some rope!” At first, Lady Zhou refused, but Lady Gao scolded her, “It’s all because of you, you wretched woman, who had an affair with him that ruined my daughter! Do you still love him?” Forced by the insults, Lady Zhou went to her room and brought back some hemp rope, which she handed to Lady Gao. Lady Gao took it and used it to strangle the man around his neck. But since women have weak hands, the binding wasn’t tight enough, and he didn’t die from it. The man started screaming. Panicked, Lady Gao, not having any fire nearby, told Lady Zhou to go to the stove and fetch an axe, then to strike the man on the forehead, killing him with bleeding brain matter. Lady Gao and Lady Zhou discussed, “It’s better this way. We need to dispose of this corpse tonight.” Lady Zhou suggested, “We can wake Hong San and have him tie a heavy stone to the corpse, then carry it and throw it into the water of Xinqiao River. Let it rot there unnoticed by anyone.” Lady Gao was delighted and went to the wine workshop to call Hong Da Gong over.

When Hong Da Gong entered the backyard, he saw the man’s corpse and said, “It’s best to get rid of this troublemaker. If we keep him at home, it will be embarrassing when the master returns.” Lady Zhou said, “You should take the corpse to the river before dawn, tie a heavy stone to it, and push it underwater. If anyone asks about it by dawn, just say that the man stole our jewelry and ran away at night. Since his family doesn’t have any visitors, there should be no problem.” Hong Da Gong carried the corpse, and Lady Gao shone a lamp as they left. It was around dawn. Hong Da Gong carried the corpse to the riverbank, picked up a heavy stone, tied it to the corpse, and pushed it into the middle of the river. The river was over ten feet deep, so the corpse sank to the bottom, likely to never be found again. Hong Da Gong returned home and quietly closed the door. Lady Gao and Lady Zhou went back to their rooms to sleep. Although Lady Gao considered herself honest, she lacked wisdom and made this mistake. Now that she knew what had happened, the only thing left was to get rid of the man properly. It was absolutely wrong to strangle him. Later, someone reported them, and he was beaten to death in prison, leading to the destruction of their entire family. There was no way to regret it!

Meanwhile, Hong Da Gong slept until dawn, then opened the tavern. Lady Gao continued to sell wine at the entrance. Yu Xiu no longer saw the man and didn’t dare to ask. Lady Zhou spoke to herself, pretending to say, “That wretch, Xiao Er…”

“Rude! He stole my jewelry and fled at night.” Yu Xiu was in her room and didn’t ask about him. The neighbors also didn’t care whether his servant was there or not. Gao’s family had killed the servant, but they couldn’t decide what to do; fearing trouble might arise sooner or later, they lived in constant worry. As the saying goes:

“If you want people to respect your hard work, don’t do things that might get you noticed.”

Now, by the Qinghu Gate outside Wulin Gate, there was a shoemaker named Chen Wen, married to Cheng Wu Niang. The couple relied solely on making shoes to make a living. It was early October, and Chen Wen argued with his wife. In an impulse, he went into the city to buy leather from the leather market by the bridge. He didn’t return that day, nor the next afternoon. Cheng Wu Niang became anxious. After another night, he still hadn’t returned. She stayed at home, worried. By the end of the month, there was still no news. Unable to bear it any longer, Cheng Wu Niang went to the city to inquire. She went straight to the leather market and asked the leather sellers, who all said, “Did we see your husband come to buy leather a month ago? Could he be dead there?” Some even asked, “What clothes was your husband wearing when he left?” Cheng Wu Niang replied, “My husband wore a topknot and a green silk robe. He said he would go to the leather market to buy leather a month ago, but there’s still no news—where could he be?” They said, “Go look around the city and you’ll find out.”

Cheng Wu Niang thanked them and asked everyone she met in the city. But after a day, there was still no trace of him.

Two days later, after breakfast, she went back to the city to search. By chance, as she crossed the new bridge, she heard people shouting on the riverbank, “There’s a man dead in the river, wearing green clothes, floating on the water’s surface near the bridge.” Hearing this, Cheng Wu Niang rushed to the riverbank and pushed through the crowd. There, she saw a corpse floating on the water, dressed in green clothes. From a distance, it seemed similar. Cheng Wu Niang cried out, “Why did my husband die in the river?” Everyone was stunned. Cheng Wu Niang pleaded with the crowd, “Sir, could you help me pull my husband’s body onto the shore so I can identify him? I’ll give you fifty strings of wine money.” At that time, there was a down-and-out man named Wang Jiujiu, who often caused trouble in the streets and cheated people out of their money. He was a scoundrel whom no one paid attention to. He was also there, hearing Cheng Wu Niang’s offer of fifty strings of wine money. He said, “Young lady, I’ll help you pull the body onto the shore so you can identify it.” After crying, Cheng Wu Niang said, “If you do this for me, I’ll never be able to repay you!” Seeing a passing boat, Wang Jiujiu jumped aboard and called out, “Oarman, wait a moment—I’ll help this young lady pull the body onto the shore.” Wang Jiujiu then pulled the body ashore. He recognized it as the body of Dong Xiaorou from the Qiao family but said nothing, only letting Cheng Wu Niang identify it. This incident ultimately led to Gao’s family dying unjustly. As the saying goes:

In the chaos, things went awry; when encountering others, they hoarded money greedily.
Who would have thought that mistaking a corpse for one’s husband would bring disaster?
At that time, Wang Jiujiu was on the boat, using a pole to push the corpse onto the shore. When Cheng Shi saw it, she found that the flesh on the head and face had been ruined by water, making it impossible to recognize it. But from the clothes, she recognized it as her husband’s. She cried bitterly and pleaded with Wang Jiujiu, “Please help me buy a coffin to put him in; then we can figure out what to do next.” Wang Jiujiu followed Cheng Wuniang to Li Tuan Tou’s funeral home in Chutang and bought a coffin. He then sent two men to retrieve the corpse from the river and place it in the coffin, which was left by the riverbank. At that time, there were few houses under the New Bridge, but boats came and went daily. Cheng Shi gave Wang Jiujiu fifty strings of coins as thanks.

After getting the money, Wang Jiujiu went straight to Gao Shi’s tavern. Under the pretense of buying wine, he said to Gao Shi, “Why did your family kill Dong Xiaorou and throw his body into the New Bridge River? Now it’s floating back up. Don’t you think that’s funny? Someone mistook it for her husband’s corpse, bought a coffin to put him in, and plans to bury him later.” Gao Shi replied, “Wang Jiujiu, stop talking nonsense. My servant stole jewelry and clothes and ran away. We couldn’t catch him, so how could this be possible?” Wang Jiujiu said, “Madam, don’t lie! You can hide it from others, but not from me. You gave me some money to make me let her go by mistake. If you refuse, I’ll go to the authorities and sue you for murder.” Hearing this, Gao Shi started cursing, “You wretched scoundrel! Ugly beggar! Seeing that my husband isn’t home, you come here to deceive me!” Angered by her insults, Wang Jiujiu left. A woman who would kill someone really lacks courage; she just gave him some money without realizing it might cause trouble. Gao Shi, against all reason, cursed Wang Jiujiu, who then went to the Ninghai County magistrate’s office to file a complaint.

The magistrate was sitting in the hall, working on documents. He ordered Wang Jiujiu to come downstairs and asked, “What’s your complaint?” Wang Jiujiu knelt down and said, “My name is Wang Qing, from Qiantang County. I’m filing a complaint: My neighbor, Qiao Jun, is away on business and hasn’t returned. His wife, Gao Shi, along with my concubine Zhou Shi and their daughter Yu Xiu, had an affair with our servant Dong Xiaorou. For some reason, they killed Dong Xiaorou and threw his body into the New Bridge River. Now it’s floating back up. When I went to talk to Gao Shi, she insulted me severely. There’s also a worker named Hong San who must be involved in this conspiracy. I can’t accept this, so I’m filing a complaint. I hope the magistrate will investigate fairly!” After hearing this, the magistrate ordered his clerk to record Wang Qing’s words, issued an official document, and sent two soldiers to arrest the three people along with Hong San and bring them to the court immediately.

At that time, the officials went straight to Gao’s house, captured Gao, Zhou, Yu Xiu, and Hong San, locked the door, and took it off before heading to the office of the magistrate. The group knelt down. The magistrate was from Caizhou, named Huang Zhengda; he was a cunning and corrupt man who used brutal torture. He asked Gao, “Where is your husband, Dong Xiaoer?” Gao replied, “Xiaoer has run away after stealing something; we don’t know where he is.” Wang Qing said, “To find out the truth, just ask Hong San, and everything will become clear.” The magistrate then dragged Hong San over and tortured him, beating his legs with fifty whips until blood flowed all over the ground. Unable to endure further torture, he confessed: “Dong Xiaoer first had an affair with Zhou, then moved back home and had an affair with Yu Xiu. When Gao found out, she was afraid that if her husband returned, it would bring shame to the family. On the Mid-Autumn Festival night on August 15th, she ordered me and Xiaoer to drink alone in one corner. We both got drunk. Afraid of causing trouble, I went to sleep in the wine room. At dawn, I saw Gao and Zhou coming to the door of the wine room and telling me to go to the backyard. There, I saw Xiaoer’s body lying there; they told me to quickly carry it and throw it into the river. I asked Gao why, and she explained everything: ‘The two of them conspired to deceive our daughter. What would happen if her husband returned? Out of desperation, I couldn’t get rid of him, and I was afraid if this came to light, so I strangled him.’ I’m an honest person; I thought, ‘This scoundrel deserves to die.’ So I carried Xiaoer’s body to the New Bridge River, tied a heavy stone to him, and pushed him underwater. That’s the truth.” Seeing that Hong San’s confession was clear, the magistrate wrote it down. The two women were terrified upon hearing that Hong San had confessed, and Yu Xiu trembled uncontrollably.

The magistrate ordered his men to bring the three women in for further interrogation. Yu Xiu finally confessed, “It was Zhou who first had an affair with Xiaoer. My mother, Gao, brought him back home and tried to seduce me, but I refused. She tried again, and I still refused. Then she forced me to the backyard and raped me. On August 15th, we prepared fruits and drank wine to celebrate the festival. My mother sent me to sleep in the room first; I had no idea about Xiaoer’s death.” The magistrate then asked Zhou, “Since you had an affair with Xiaoer, why did you ruin the girl? Confess honestly so you won’t suffer!” With tears streaming down her face, Zhou confessed everything from start to finish. The magistrate then asked Gao, “Why did you murder Xiaoer?” Unable to deny it any longer, Gao admitted to everything. All of them were taken to prison. The magistrate recorded their confessions and the next day sent a county official along with forensic experts to examine the body at the New River Bridge.

That day, the news spread throughout the city and beyond. Countless men and women crowded together to see what had happened. As the saying goes:

Good news stays within the walls, while bad news spreads far and wide.

It is said that the county magistrate led a group of people to under the New Bridge, opened the coffin, took out the decayed body, and examined it carefully. After placing the body back in the coffin, the magistrate returned with his men. Although Dong Xiaor’s body had been crushed by an axe at the top of the door, marks from ropes were still visible. The magistrate ordered his men to beat Gao Shi and the other three each twenty times, until they fainted and then regained consciousness. A long iron collar was put on Gao Shi, while Zhou Shi, Yu Xiu, and Hong San were all locked up with iron chains and taken to the prison. Wang Qing stayed at the yamen to wait. As for the leatherworker’s wife, she realized she had made a mistake and stopped crying. Overcome with fear, she dared not show herself to anyone for some time. But let’s leave that aside for now.

Yu Xiu refused to eat or drink in prison and died the next day. Two days later, Zhou Shi also died. Hong San’s condition worsened, and the prison guards reported this to the magistrate, who ordered a doctor to treat him, but he died despite the treatment. Only Gao Shi remained alive, but her body swelled due to the wounds from the beating; she couldn’t eat or take medicine, and eventually died as well. It was pitiful—within less than half a month, all four died in prison. The prison guards reported this to the prefect and the officials. Qiao Jun hadn’t returned home for a long time, and his wife and concubines had committed murder at home; they deserved to die. Since all the murderers were dead, a report had to be submitted to the imperial court before a decision could be made. Before long, an imperial edict arrived, stating, “Since all the murderers have died, their property shall be confiscated by the government. As for Dong Xiaor’s decayed body, since there are no relatives to claim it, it may be burned.” Immediately, the magistrate sent officials to break down Qiao Jun’s house and seize all his valuables and money. Dong Xiaor’s decayed body was burned, as expected.

Meanwhile, Qiao Jun, who was now poor, lived at Shen Ruilian’s house in Dongjing, completely unaware of what was happening at home. After living there for two years, he ran out of money. The old woman constantly nagged him, saying, “My daughter has fallen in love with you, yet she can’t receive guests. What should we do? If you have money, give some to use; if not, leave my house so my daughter can receive other guests. We can’t starve to death!” Qiao Jun used to be wealthy, but now he had no money. After being driven away several times by the old woman, tears streamed down his face. He thought about going back, but he had no funds. Seeing Qiao Jun crying, Shen Ruilian also cried and said, “Qiao Lang, it’s me who has caused you trouble! I have some spare money from before; here, take it as funds to go back. If you’re willing, come back later and get more money.” Qiao Jun was overjoyed. That night, he packed his old clothes into a bag. Shen Ruilian gave him three hundred strings of coins and put them in the bag. After bidding farewell to the old woman, he carried the bag and took a stick with him. He also said goodbye to Ruilian, and the two parted in tears.

On the road, Qiao Jun caught a boat. In one day, he arrived at Beixin Pass. It was already late, so he stayed overnight at the home of a boat owner he knew, planning to enter the city the next morning. When the boat owner saw Qiao Jun, he was surprised.

The official said, “Sir Qiao, where have you been all this time? Why haven’t you returned? Your younger wife, Mrs. Zhou, had an affair with a hired worker. When your eldest wife took over the household, she then had an affair with your daughter. I heard that they fought over him—somehow, your eldest wife murdered the hired worker, and Hong San, the wine maker, threw the body into the Xinqiao River. Two months later, as the body began to rot, someone reported it to the authorities. Your eldest wife, your younger wife, your daughter, and Hong San were all brought before the court. Under torture, they had no choice but to confess. They were locked up in prison, suffering greatly, until finally all four died. An imperial order came down, seizing your family’s property for the government. Now, where should you go?” Upon hearing this, Qiao Jun was stunned as if his eight skull bones had been split apart and half a bucket of ice and snow poured over him! He was so shocked that he couldn’t speak for a long time. The boat owner offered him some food and drink, but he couldn’t eat anything! Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably as he sobbed in grief. He thought to himself, “I never expected to end up with no home to return to, no country to seek refuge in. What should I do?” He tossed and turned all night.

The next day, he got up early, bid farewell to the boat owner, packed his belongings, and rushed to Wulin Gate. When he arrived, he saw that his house had been demolished, leaving only a piece of barren land. Fortunately, Lord Wang opened the door. Qiao Jun put down his bag and bowed, saying, “Uncle, I never expected to return only to find my home in such ruins!” Lord Wang asked, “Sir Qiao, where have you been all this time?” Qiao Jun replied, “I lost all my money and couldn’t return. I had no idea what was happening at home.” Lord Wang invited Qiao Jun inside and told him everything that had happened since he left. “It’s laughable how that leatherworker’s wife, because her husband died abroad, mistook another body for hers. Then that wretch Wang Jiuju reported them to the authorities, causing your wife, concubine, daughter, and Hong San to be taken to court. They suffered greatly under torture and died in prison. All your property was seized by the government. Now, where should you go?” Hearing this, Qiao Jun burst into tears. After bidding farewell to Lord Wang, he didn’t know whether to head south or north. With a sigh, he said, “Enough! I’m over forty years old, with no children, and having lost both my property and my family. Who should I turn to?” He walked straight to the second bridge over West Lake, looked at the clear water, and jumped in, dying underwater. It’s truly a pity about the entire family of Qiao Jun!

Meanwhile, that very afternoon, Wang Qing was wandering around West Lake with some other destitute people. They stopped at the second bridge and decided to pool their money to buy some wine. Everyone said, “Let Brother Wang go buy it; if there’s any left…”

“Good.” Wang Jiujiu took the money, scattered it into West Lake, widened his eyes, and cursed loudly, “Wang Qing! That wretched Dong Xiaer betrayed his wife and children and brought disaster upon himself—what does it have to do with you? Just because you failed to swindle money, you’ve caused me, Qiao Jun, so much suffering! Our whole family of four has nowhere to be buried. Today, you must pay for taking my life!” Everyone realized it was Qiao Jun’s spirit possessing him, so they kowtowed and begged for mercy. Wang Qing struck himself over a hundred times, kept cursing, then jumped into the lake and died. People who heard about this said that although Qiao Jun was lustful and greedy, he had never harmed anyone; now, after suffering such a tragic fate, how could he let Wang Qing go even in the afterlife? This retribution was simply the natural consequence of his actions. Later generations wrote a poem:
Qiao Jun’s lust destroyed an entire family;
Wang Qing’s evil also led to his own death.
Those who are lustful always bring ruin to their families and countries—
Has it ever been seen that books and learning lead people astray?

Chapter 34: Wang Jiaoluan’s Lifelong Sorrow

Birds fly in the sky, rabbits run on earth; through the ages, humans come and go. In ancient times, music and songs filled desolate platforms, yet in the blink of an eye, fortunes rise and fall. One must learn to find peace amidst chaos, and not become foolish due to mistakes. If one does not crave wine, women, or wealth, they will live a life free from harm.

In Changle Village, Yugan County, Raozhou Prefecture, Jiangxi Province, there lived a commoner named Zhang Yi. He sold various goods in the county and stayed overnight at an inn outside the city. The inn was full, so he couldn’t stay there. There was an empty room next door, but no one lived there. Zhang Yi asked the innkeeper why he didn’t let him use that room. The innkeeper replied, “There’s a ghost in that room; I dare not keep guests there.” Zhang Yi said, “Even if there’s a ghost, what do I have to fear?” The innkeeper finally unlocked the door and gave Zhang Yi a lamp and a broom. Zhang Yi entered the room, lit the lamp brightly, and saw a broken bed covered in dust. He swept it clean, laid out bedding, ate some food, then closed the door and went to sleep. In his dream, he met a beautiful woman dressed in gorgeous clothes who offered to share her pillow. When he woke up, she was actually beside him. Zhang Yi asked who she was, and she replied, “I’m a woman from the neighboring house. My husband is away, so I can’t stay alone, hence I came here. Don’t ask too much; you’ll understand soon enough.” Zhang Yi didn’t ask further. At dawn, she left, but returned each night, and they enjoyed each other as before. This continued for three nights. The innkeeper noticed that nothing bad happened to Zhang Yi and casually mentioned that a woman had once committed suicide in that room and often caused trouble, but now everything was peaceful. Zhang Yi kept this to himself. That night, the woman came again. Zhang Yi asked, “The innkeeper said there’s a female ghost who committed suicide in this room—could it be you?” She answered without any shame, “It’s me! But I won’t harm you, so don’t be afraid.” Zhang Yi asked for details. She said, “I used to be a prostitute. My surname is Mu, and I was twenty-two years old. People called me ‘Twenty-Second Sister.’ I was close to a guest from Yugan named Yang Chuan. He promised to marry me, but I demanded a hundred pieces of gold as a bribe. After three years, he never came back. I was trapped by my brothel owner and had no way to escape. Overwhelmed with sorrow, I hanged myself. My brothel owner sold the place, and now it’s an inn. This room was once my bedroom. My spirit still lingers here. Yang Chuan is from your hometown—do you know him?” Zhang Yi replied, “Yes.” She asked, “Where is he now?” Zhang Yi said, “Last year he moved to the south gate of Raozhou, got married, and opened an inn. His business is thriving.” The woman sighed for a long time and said nothing else. Two days later, Zhang Yi wanted to go home. She said, “I wish to follow you forever. Do you agree?” Zhang Yi said, “If you can accompany me, why not?” She said, “Make a small wooden plaque and write ‘Spirit of Twenty-Second Sister’ on it. Put it in a box. Whenever you call for me, I’ll appear.” Zhang Yi agreed. She said, “I also buried fifty taels of silver under this bed. No one knows about it. You can take it.” Zhang Yi dug and indeed found a jar of silver, which made him very happy. After another night, Zhang Yi made the plaque, stored it properly, and left the inn.

Back at home, he told his wife about this matter. At first, his wife was not pleased, but upon seeing fifty taels of silver, she stopped complaining. Zhang Yi set up an altar for Lady 22 on the east wall. His wife would jokingly call out to her, and during the day, she would actually appear and greet his wife. At first, the concubine was surprised, but eventually she got used to it and didn’t think much of it. At night, Zhang Yi and his wife slept in the same bed, and the woman didn’t seem bothered by the narrowness of the bed. After more than ten days, the woman said, “I still have an old debt in the county town. Could you go with me to collect it?” Seeing the wealth he had, Zhang agreed immediately. They set off by boat right away. An altar was placed on the boat, and the woman traveled and stayed with them without any shame.

One day, they arrived at the south gate of Raozhou. The woman said, “I’m going to Yang Chuan’s house to collect a debt.” Zhang Yi wanted to ask questions, but the woman quickly stepped ashore. He followed her and saw her enter a shop. Upon inquiry, it turned out to be Yang Chuan’s house. After waiting for a while with no response, he suddenly saw Yang Chuan’s family in panic, and soon cries filled the air. When asked what was happening, the people in the shop said, “The master, Yang Chuan, was healthy before, but suddenly fell ill and died from bleeding from all nine orifices.” Zhang Yi realized it was Lady 22’s doing. He got off the boat in silence, cried bitterly in front of the altar, but she never appeared again. He then understood that there was indeed an old debt in the county town—one owed by Yang Chuan through his unkindness. There is a poem that says: “Wang Kui was condemned for his unkindness; Li Yi also changed his ways after being heartless. Let us see what happens to Yang Chuan—heaven does not bless those who are heartless.”

Earlier, we talked about Lady 22 Mu, who avenged herself after death. That was a case of a ghost taking action, something rather mysterious. Now let us tell another story titled “Wang Jiaoluan’s Century of Sorrow.” This revenge was even better carried out. This story takes place not during the Tang or Song dynasties, but in the early years of the Tianshun era of our dynasty. The Miao tribes in Guangxi rebelled, and troops were sent from various places to suppress them. Wang Zhong, a commander from Lin’an Guard, led a group of Zhejiang troops. He failed to meet the deadline and was demoted to be a thousand-household officer in Nanyang Guard in Henan. He took his family with him to take up his post. Wang Zhong was over sixty years old and had only one son, Wang Biao, who was very brave and was left behind to serve in the army. He had two daughters: the elder was named Jiaoluan, and the younger was named Jiaofeng. Jiaoluan was eighteen, while Jiaofeng was sixteen. Jiaofeng had been raised by her maternal family since childhood and was engaged to her cousin. Only Jiaoluan had not yet been married. Her mother, Mrs. Zhou, was a stepmother. Mrs. Zhou had an older sister who married into the Cao family and lived in poverty as a widow. Mrs. Zhou took care of her niece Jiaoluan, and everyone called her Aunt Cao. Jiaoluan was intelligent from a young age and could write essays effortlessly. Because her parents were careful about choosing a husband for her, she remained unmarried even after reaching marriageable age. She often sighed in the wind and felt sad under the moonlight. Only Aunt Cao understood her feelings deeply; even her parents were unaware of them.

One Qingming Festival, she was playing on the swing in the backyard with Aunt Cao and her maid Mingxia. Just as they were having fun, they suddenly saw a handsome young man through a gap in the wall. He wore purple clothes and a Tang-style headband, and he watched them with admiration, cheering repeatedly. Jiaoluan blushed furiously and pushed Aunt Cao’s back, urging her to hurry back to the bedroom. The maid also went in. Seeing that there was no one else in the garden, the young man climbed over the wall. The swing frame was still there, and the scent of perfume lingered. As he was lost in thought, he suddenly saw someone in the grass...

An object was picked up and upon inspection, it turned out to be a three-foot-long silk handkerchief embroidered with fragrance. The young man regarded it as a precious treasure. Hearing voices coming from inside, he climbed over the wall and stood at the edge of the gap. There, he saw a maid coming to look for the fragrant handkerchief. After watching her search back and forth several times, he grew bored and said with a smile, “Young lady, the handkerchief is already in someone’s hands. Where can you find it?” The maid looked up and saw that it was a scholar, so she stepped forward and bowed deeply, saying, “Sir, I believe you have already found it. Please return it at once; I would be eternally grateful!” The young man asked, “Whose handkerchief is this?” The maid replied, “It belongs to the young lady.” He said, “Since it’s the young lady’s property, she must come and claim it before I can return it.” The maid asked, “Where do you reside?” He replied, “My surname is Zhou, and my name is Tingzhang. I’m from Wujiang County, Suzhou Prefecture. My father is an educational official stationed here, and our house is just separated from yours by a wall.”

It turned out that the military office and the educational institution were connected—the military office was called the East Yamen, while the educational institution was called the West Yamen. Outside the garden lay the open space belonging to the school. The maid said, “Since you’re such a nearby neighbor, I failed to recognize you. I’ll inform the young lady and ask her to request it on your behalf.” Tingzhang asked, “May I know the names of the young lady and you?” The maid replied, “The young lady’s name is Jiaoluan; she’s the beloved daughter of our master. I’m her personal maid, Mingxia.” Tingzhang said, “I have a short poem. Could you please deliver it to the young lady, and then I’ll return the handkerchief.” Mingxia initially refused to deliver the poem for him, but since she wanted the handkerchief, she agreed. Tingzhang said, “Please wait a moment.” Before long, he returned with the poem. It was written on peach-colored paper folded into a square shape. Mingxia took the poem and asked, “Where’s the handkerchief?” Tingzhang laughed and said, “The handkerchief is a precious treasure that wasn’t easy to obtain. How can I give it away so casually? Please give this poem to the young lady first. Once I hear her reply, I’ll return the handkerchief.” Mingxia had no choice but to leave.

It was because of a single fragrant silk handkerchief that the timeless “Song of Everlasting Sorrow” came into being.

As for Miss Jiaoluan, after seeing that handsome young man, though she felt ashamed at first, her heart was stirred by affection. Though silent, she thought to herself, “What a handsome man! If I could marry him, my life wouldn’t be in vain.” Suddenly, she saw Mingxia enter angrily. Jiaoluan asked, “Have you found the fragrant handkerchief?” Mingxia replied irritably, “It’s strange! The handkerchief is held by Young Master Zhou from the West Yamen—the one in purple clothes who was cheering from inside the wall gap.” Jiaoluan said, “Then we just need to ask him for it.” Mingxia said, “How can we ask? He has to agree to give it back!” Jiaoluan asked, “Why wouldn’t he?” Mingxia replied, “He said, ‘My surname is Zhou, and my name is Tingzhang. I’m from Wujiang County, Suzhou Prefecture. My father is an educational official stationed here. Our house is just separated from yours by a wall.’ Since it’s the young lady’s handkerchief, she must come and claim it herself.” Jiaoluan asked, “What did you say?” Mingxia replied, “I said I’d inform the young lady and ask her to request it. He said he has a short poem and asks me to deliver it. He’ll return the handkerchief only after hearing her reply.” Mingxia handed the peach-colored paper to the young lady. Jiaoluan was already somewhat pleased upon seeing the square piece of paper. When she opened it, she found a seven-character quatrain:

“The handkerchief gives the beauty extra fragrance,
Heaven has placed it in a loving man’s hands.
With earnest words, he sends his longing,
Planning to bring love to the bridal chamber.”

If Jiaoluan had been sensible, she would have discarded the handkerchief, burned the poem, instructed her maid not to deliver messages lightly again, and thus avoided all trouble. But Jiaoluan was, first, a woman in love who couldn’t resist such beauty, and second, she had too much talent to let it go unutilized. So she wrote a reply on Xue Tao-style paper, with eight lines...

I am pure as flawless jade, born into a family of nobles and officials. In quiet moments, I share the moon with my loved ones; in idle times, I gaze alone at the flowers. The green parasol trees welcome only rare phoenixes, while the green bamboos will not tolerate crows. I send this message to the solitary traveler: do not let your thoughts become as tangled as yarn.

Mingxia arrived at the back garden with the poem, while Tingzhang had already been waiting there through the gap in the wall. Mingxia said, “The young lady has already sent a reply poem; please return my handkerchief.” Tingzhang read the poem and grew even more admiring of Jiaoluan’s talent, determined to win her heart. He said, “Please be patient, young lady; I have something in return.” Returning to his study, he wrote another poem:

“Living near the countryside,
There’s also fate with noble families.
Alone, how pitiable indeed.
If only the phoenix and the bird could nest together,
One night, the sound of the flute would reach the heavens.”

Mingxia said, “You still won’t return my handkerchief—why keep sending poems? I won’t send any more!” From his sleeve, Tingzhang took out a gold hairpin and said, “This humble gift is meant as a token of my respect, along with my best regards to the young lady.” Greedy for the gold hairpin, Mingxia sent a reply poem to Jiaoluan. After reading it, Jiaoluan was displeased. Mingxia asked, “What in the poem offended you?” Jiaoluan replied, “That scholar is frivolous; all his words are flirtatious.” Mingxia suggested, “With your great talent, why not write a poem to scold him and put an end to his advances?” Jiaoluan said, “Young men value dignity; there’s no need to scold him. It’s better to advise him kindly.” She then wrote eight lines on Xue paper:

“Standing alone by the courtyard’s green shade,
What deep meaning does the maid’s message convey?
With a heart daring to steal jade and fragrance,
And a mind eager to stir clouds and rain.
How can the fragrant osmanthus be broken by a child?
How can the silk curtains allow the morning wind to invade?
I advise you not to dream of balconies—study hard to enter the Hanlin Academy.”

From then on, they exchanged poems back and forth, gradually growing closer, with constant communication between them. Mingxia frequently visited the back garden, while Tingzhang kept watching through the gap in the wall. There were many poems exchanged, too numerous to detail here. When the Dragon Boat Festival came, Captain Wang hosted a banquet in the garden pavilion. Tingzhang moved back and forth through the gap in the wall, knowing the young lady was in the garden but unable to meet her, and Mingxia, the maid, couldn’t help either. Feeling frustrated, he suddenly encountered a soldier named Sun Jiu. Sun Jiu was skilled as a carpenter, serving in the military while also working as a craftsman. Tingzhang then sealed a poem in an envelope, gave Sun Jiu two hundred copper coins to buy wine, and asked him to deliver it to Mingxia in the office. Sun Jiu fulfilled this request faithfully, waiting until early the next morning to find an opportunity to send the poem to Mingxia, who then passed it on to the young lady. Upon opening it, she found a preface that read, “On the Dragon Boat Festival, unable to see the lovely young lady in the garden, I composed this poem as a gift.” The poem continued:

“With colored threads tying our thoughts together,
We’d drink side by side from the reed cups.
But mist separates us across the Xiang River;
The hibiscus still turns toward the sun in vain.”

At the end, it read, “Submitted by Zhou Tingzhang of Songling.” The young lady placed it on her writing desk. As she was getting ready to comb her hair and respond, Aunt Cao entered the dressing room and saw the poem. Shocked, she exclaimed, “Since the young lady has an appointment in the west wing, shouldn’t there be someone to host her here? How could you hide this from me?” Jiaoluan replied shyly, “Though we exchange poems, there’s nothing else—I truly didn’t mean to hide it from you, auntie.” Aunt Cao said, “Zhou is a talented man from the south, and our families are of similar status. Why not let him arrange a marriage to create a lasting bond? Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” Jiaoluan nodded in agreement. After finishing her makeup, she wrote eight lines in reply:

“Locked away in this fragrant boudoir for eighteen years,
Not allowing wind or romance to penetrate behind the curtains.”

Who knows the sorrow beneath the warm scent of embroidered quilts? In the spring chill within the brocade curtains, I long only to sleep. Afraid that the cuckoo’s call will reach my ears, I dread the dreams of butterflies that haunt me. True affection indeed shows compassion—please have someone convey a few words for me.

When Tingzhang received this poem, he pretended to act on his father, Professor Zhou’s, wishes and asked Scholar Zhao to go to Captain Wang to arrange this marriage. Captain Wang also valued Zhou’s talent and appearance. But Jiaolan was his beloved daughter, moreover skilled in literature; as he grew old, he relied on her for all official documents and writings, and couldn’t bear to abandon her in the countryside, so he hesitated to agree. Knowing that the marriage wasn’t going through, Tingzhang felt heartbroken and wrote a letter to her, beginning with “Your humble brother from Songling, Tingzhang, submits this letter.”

Seeing your beautiful face, even my wild spirit grows calm. Husband and wife are destined from past lives, devoted to each other till death; yet today’s proposals from matchmakers remain undecided. From afar, I gaze at your locked boudoir, like Emperor Xuanzong leaving the Moon Palace and longing for Chang’e; wishing to play in the garden, like the Cowherd separated by the Milky Way, yearning for the Weaving Maid. If things continue to drag on, I’ll surely die of sorrow. If we’re not fated together, I won’t rest in death either. I’ve composed this clumsy poem, hoping for your compassion. The poem goes:

At present, there’s no set date to soothe my feelings; how pitiful is the value of spring for such a precious one.

In melancholy, I drink three cups of wine by the window; filled with sorrow, I play a tune on the zither before the flowers.

It’s good to be in this secluded window, reciting verses quietly beneath the silken curtains.

Alone under the dim moon, will it allow us to share our hearts?

After reading it, Jiaolan immediately replied, beginning with “Your beloved daughter from Huya, Jiaolan, submits this reply.”

The lotus touches the water lightly, soft fluff flutters past the curtain. Before the Moon-Gazing Pavilion, I lazily avoid listening to the cuckoo in the east wind; by the Window of the Painted Thrush, I force myself to ignore the orioles throughout the day. While busy at the dressing table, a poem suddenly appears on the incense table. Reading its meaning, I feel endless sorrow. Pitying my own unfortunate fate as a beauty, I’m annoyed by this affectionate scholar. With each letter, I grow more hesitant; with each poem, my loneliness deepens. Stop trying to climb over walls like a flower-picking thief—instead, aim high like someone seeking the laurel under the North Star. There’s no matchmaker in sight, but a woman in these letters. From now on, I’ll seal my true feelings away in letters, and ask no one for news. I humbly respond to your fine poem, hoping for your deep understanding!

The poem goes: Autumn moon and spring flowers also have feelings; they too know their worth is worth a thousand gold pieces. Though I glimpse Han Lang’s handsome face through the lattice, I shy away from hearing Cui Shi’s zither music from beyond the wall. My foolish thoughts have scattered into thin air; good poems can only be recited in dreams. In this life, I’ll simply be your elder brother.

Sister, wait until the next life to share a heartfelt bond.

Tingzhang was utterly amazed after reading the book. When he reached the final line of the poem, “In this life, let us be merely siblings,” he suddenly came up with an idea: “Back then, Zhang Gong and Shen Chun were able to pursue their affections because they were siblings. Since Lady Wang shares the same surname as me, why not acknowledge her as my aunt? Then we could interact freely within our family and find a way forward!” He then claimed that the western courtyard was too cramped and noisy, and asked to use the garden behind the military office for reading. Teacher Zhou spoke on his behalf with Captain Wang. Lord Wang said, “Since we’re family, she can simply eat meals here at my house; there’s no need for further gifts.” Teacher Zhou was extremely grateful and told his son about it. Tingzhang said, “Though I appreciate Lord Wang’s kindness, since we’re not closely related, it would be inappropriate to impose on him. I’d like to prepare a gift and acknowledge Lady Wang as my aunt. In that way, we could officially be aunt and nephew.” Teacher Zhou, being simple-minded and seeking only minor advantages, said, “Let my son handle it.” Tingzhang then arranged for Lord Wang and his wife to meet, chose an auspicious day, prepared gifts and formal documents, wrote a letter identifying himself as her nephew, and went to pay his respects with great humility and warmth. Lord Wang, being a warrior, had no choice but to agree and invited them into the main hall so they could meet. Even Aunt Cao was recognized as a maternal aunt, and Jiaoluan was considered a cousin—everyone was formally introduced. Lord Wang held a banquet in the back hall as a way to celebrate their relationship. As they sat together, Tingzhang and Jiaoluan secretly rejoiced. The glances they exchanged during the meal go without saying. They parted that day satisfied. Whether fate would bring them together or not was hard to tell; their closeness or distance was already clear.

The next day, Lord Wang prepared his study for Zhou Tingzhang to read there. He also made sure to separate the inner and outer areas by locking the back door of the inner courtyard, preventing women from entering the garden. Tingzhang would be provided with everything needed, with the outer chamber taking care of him. Although they lived as one family, communication became inconvenient. Jiaoluan still harbored her aspirations for purity, but her feelings for him had already been stirred. Moreover, since they had exchanged glances during the meal, how could they now be separated by a garden wall? Overwhelmed with sorrow and boredom, she fell ill—feeling cold in the morning and hot in the evening, refusing to eat or drink. Lord Wang brought in doctors and fortune-tellers, but nothing helped. Tingzhang visited her several times in the main hall, but Lord Wang only asked him to convey his regards, not allowing him to enter her room. Tingzhang came up with another plan and pretended to say, “Having grown up in the south, I know some basic medical knowledge. My cousin doesn’t know what’s wrong with her; I’ll be able to diagnose it by feeling her pulse.” Lord Wang discussed this with his wife and then asked Mingxia to convey his message to the young lady before allowing Tingzhang in. Tingzhang sat by the bed, pretending to check her pulse while actually caressing her for a long time. Lord Wang and his wife were present, so it wasn’t appropriate to speak much. He simply said, “Take care,” then left the room. To Lord Wang, he said, “My cousin’s illness is caused by depression. She needs to walk in open spaces to relieve her feelings, and she also needs companionship to lift her spirits. Medicine isn’t necessary.” Lord Wang trusted Teacher Zhou completely and didn’t doubt him at all. He said, “There are only gardens and pavilions in the office; nothing else open enough.” Tingzhang deliberately said, “If my cousin wants to walk in the gardens from time to time, I might be in the way there. I’ll excuse myself for now.” Lord Wang replied, “Since we’re siblings, why worry about such things?” He immediately ordered the back door to be unlocked and gave the keys to Aunt Cao, asking her to accompany the girls and let them play freely. Mingxia stayed by her side constantly, thinking this was the perfect solution.

It is said that Jiaoluan had fallen ill due to her thoughts of Zhou Lang. After he stroked her, she felt delighted. He also allowed her to stroll in the gardens and pavilions, with only trusted attendants accompanying her, and thus her illness improved by half. Whenever they went to the gardens and pavilions, Tingzhang would meet her there, walking and sitting together. Sometimes they would also go to Tingzhang’s study for tea, gradually becoming less cautious and touching each other closely. Seizing an opportunity, Tingzhang pleaded with the young lady to let him take a look at her boudoir. Jiaoluan glanced at Aunt Cao and whispered to him, “The keys are over there; go get them yourself.” Tingzhang understood immediately. The next day, Tingzhang brought two pieces of Wu silk and a pair of gold hairpins, asking Mingxia to give them to Aunt Cao. Aunt Cao asked Jiaoluan, “Young Master Zhou has sent such generous gifts—what could it be for?” Jiaoluan replied, “A young man full of passion may make mistakes; he just wants Auntie to forgive him.” Aunt Cao said, “I already know what’s in your hearts. But as long as you keep in touch, I won’t reveal anything!” She then handed the keys to Mingxia. Overjoyed, Jiaoluan composed a poem and sent it to Tingzhang:

“I secretly convey my words to this talented one;
Do not speak them carelessly in front of others.
Tonight, the boudoir is unlocked in spring’s glow;
As the moon shifts, the beauty comes.”

Upon receiving the poem, Tingzhang was overjoyed. That night, after all lights were extinguished and drums began to sound, Tingzhang quietly made his way to the inner quarters. The back door was slightly ajar, so he slipped inside. Remembering the path from the day he checked her pulse in her room, he moved slowly. Light shone from within, and Mingxia was waiting by the door. Tingzhang entered the boudoir, greeted Jiaoluan, and tried to embrace her. Jiaoluan pushed him away and called on Mingxia to bring Aunt Cao to join them. Disappointed, Tingzhang expressed his sorrow and blamed her for changing her mind, nearly bringing tears to his eyes. Jiaoluan said, “I am a chaste maiden, and you are not a dissolute man. It’s only because of your talent and good looks that we love and cherish each other. Since I have favored you secretly, I must uphold my loyalty to you. If you abandon me, won’t you betray my sincerity? I swear by the gods that I will stay faithful until death; if we continue to meet secretly, I will rather die than comply.” Just then, Aunt Cao arrived and thanked Tingzhang for his kindness earlier that day. Tingzhang then asked her to act as a matchmaker, vowing to make their union harmonious. Aunt Cao said, “Since you two want me to act as a matchmaker, write four marriage contracts. Burn one in front of heaven and earth to inform the spirits; keep one with me as proof as a matchmaker; each of you keep one as evidence for your future marriage. If the woman betrays the man, she shall die from thunder strikes; if the man betrays the woman, he shall die from arrows. They will suffer punishment in the underworld and forever be trapped in the prisons of Fengdu.” Hearing Aunt Cao’s solemn words, both Tingzhang and Jiaoluan were delighted. They followed her advice and wrote the marriage contracts. First, they bowed to heaven and earth, then thanked Aunt Cao. She then brought out sweet fruits and fine wine for them to celebrate. The three of them drank together until the third watch, after which Aunt Cao left. Tingzhang and Jiaoluan went to bed together, enjoying intimate moments. At the fifth watch, Jiaoluan urged Tingzhang to get up, saying, “I have given myself to you—do not fail me. The gods are watching; there is no escape. If I have time in the future, I’ll send Mingxia to invite you. Do not act rashly, lest it cause gossip.” Tingzhang promised everything and was reluctant to part. Jiaoluan quickly asked Mingxia to escort him out of the garden. That day, Jiaoluan sent Tingzhang two more poems:

“Last night, joy accompanied us together;
In the lotus-covered tent, words flowed freely.
Our affection grew deeper as we touched each other closely;
The passion intensified like clouds parted by rain.
Soft whispers filled the pillow like those of a phoenix and a bird;
Through the half-open window, shadows of flowers and moonlight overlapped.
At dawn, I saw the ‘mandarin duck’ pillow—
Countless red petals scattered on the embroidered fabric.”

The first poem

The quilt resembles red waves like silk; holding her lover’s waist brings extra shyness. The moon is full and the flowers are in bloom; clouds have just dispersed and the rain has ceased. A bond of love descends from heaven; countless feelings find freedom. I send my words for this night—no need to lean on the pillow, gazing at the Cowherd star.

II

Tingzhang also wrote replies. From then on, Luan recovered completely, and the door locks were loosened. Every three or five days, Luan would send Mingxia to summon him. As their interactions grew frequent, their affection deepened.

More than half a year passed in this way. When Judge Zhou completed his term, he was promoted to magistrate of Emei County in Sichuan. Tingzhang, deeply attached to Luan, refused to go with him, claiming illness and fearing the hardships of the Sichuan road. Moreover, his studies were not yet complete, and he valued his teachers and friends, wishing to stay there to continue his studies. Judge Zhou, who had always indulged his son, agreed to everything he said. On the day of departure, Tingzhang saw his father out of the city before returning. Moved by Tingzhang’s decision to stay, Luan invited him to meet that day, deepening their bond even further. Another half year passed in this manner. There were many poems exchanged between them, too many to list here.

Homeland

One day, while reading the newspaper, Tingzhang learned that his father had returned due to not adapting to the climate in Emei. Long separated from his family, he wanted to return home, but his love for Luan made him reluctant to part. Struggling with this dilemma, his worry was evident on his face. Learning of his situation, Luan hosted a feast to persuade him, saying, “The love between husband and wife is as deep as the ocean; the bond between father and son is beyond comparison to even the highest skies. If you prioritize personal feelings over duty, not only will you fail as a son, but your wife will also fail as a wife.” Aunt Cao also advised him, saying, “This temporary separation is not meant to last a lifetime. It would be better for you to return home first and visit your parents. If you discuss marriage while visiting them, you can settle matters quickly and avoid lingering attachments.” Tingzhang was still undecided. Then, Luan asked Aunt Cao to convey his desire to return to Uncle Wang. It happened to be the Dragon Boat Festival, and Uncle Wang prepared a feast to see Tingzhang off, along with generous gifts. With no other choice, Tingzhang packed his belongings. That night, Luan held another feast in her chamber, inviting Tingzhang to renew their vows and set a new wedding date. Aunt Cao was also present; they spoke endlessly throughout the night. Before parting, Luan asked where Tingzhang lived. “Why ask?” Tingzhang replied. “I’m afraid if you don’t come soon, I’ll just write to you,” Luan said. Tingzhang took pen and paper and wrote four lines: Yearning for family, I return to Suzhou; I live in the 17th district of Wujiang. Ask at Nanma Shuangyangkou, beneath Yanling Bridge—there lives Wu, the grain supervisor.

Tingzhang explained further, “Our family surname is Wu. My ancestor was the local chief grain supervisor, hence the name ‘Wu, the Grain Supervisor.’ Zhou is an unrelated surname. Though I’ve written these words, my longing to see you is intense—I count the days as years. In at most a year, or at least half a year, I will surely bring my father’s letter and come personally to propose marriage. I cannot bear to keep a beautiful lady waiting in vain.” After saying this, they embraced and wept. Just before dawn, Luan personally saw Tingzhang out of the garden. They composed a couplet together: Our bond is as strong as silk and water; yet longing for family forces us apart. Who will wait for the moon in Tingzhang’s flower garden from now on? In the orchid room, I’ll no longer play chess. Luan.

I only worry that as my body is far away, so too is my heart; it’s not that if my writings are equal, my fortune won’t be as well. Tingzhang bowed his head in silence, reflecting inwardly, forcing back tears while straightening his brows. Lovely Luan...

Before long, dawn came, and the horse and saddle were ready. Uncle Wang prepared a feast in the main hall, with all his wife and daughters gathered to see him off on his ride. Tingzhang bowed twice before parting. Luan felt so sad she wanted to cry; she secretly returned to her room, took out a piece of black silk paper, wrote a poem on it, and asked Mingxia to give it to Tingzhang as he mounted his horse, waiting for an opportunity to hand it to him. Tingzhang read it while on horseback: “Together we held hands and shared sweet moments; how can we bear to part with tears hanging in our eyes? While my husband’s horse has not yet left beneath the green willows, my heart is already by the white clouds. I uphold my integrity like Lady Jiang, while you value traditional virtues like Min Qian. Once satisfied, you turn away in haste; the woman in the fragrant chamber grows thin from longing.”

Tingzhang shed tears upon reading it. Along the way, every scene reminded him of her, and he never forgot Luan for even a moment.

Enough of these idle tales. In less than a day, he arrived at his home in Wujiang and met with his parents, bringing joy to the whole family. It turned out that his father had already discussed marriage arrangements with Wei Tongzhi from their neighborhood, planning to bring his son back to complete the wedding rites. At first, he was reluctant, but later, upon learning that Wei’s daughter was exceptionally beautiful and that Wei Tongzhi was extremely wealthy with abundant dowry, driven by greed for wealth and desire for beauty, he forgot his previous promise. Half a year passed, and Wei’s family moved in; the couple lived happily together, unaware of who Wang Jiaolan was—only knowing that she now looked beautiful in her new attire, ignoring the longing of her lover.

It was Jiaolan who advised Tingzhang to return home temporarily, showing her wisdom and sense. Yet after he left, she couldn’t help but miss him. The days were gloomy, the evenings lonely; she had company only in her reflection by the lamp, with no one to talk to under the canopy. Whenever spring flowers bloomed or autumn moons shone, her dreams were disturbed and her soul troubled. After a year, there was still no news. One day, Mingxia came to report, “Sister, do you want to send a letter to Brother-in-law Zhou?” Jiaolan asked, “Is that possible?” Mingxia replied, “Just now, Sun Jiu said someone from Lin’an sent official documents here. Lin’an is near Hangzhou, and the road passes through Wujiang—it’s a convenient route.” Jiaolan said, “If it’s convenient, ask Sun Jiu to tell that messenger not to go.” She immediately wrote a letter, expressing her feelings of separation, asking him to hurry to Nanyang so they could return home together and fulfill their marriage promise, becoming companions for life. Much of the letter isn’t included here. There are ten poems at the end. Here’s one: “Since our parting on Dragon Boat Festival, there’s been no news; from afar we gaze at each other under the bright moon. Temporarily leave your parents’ home to avoid the troubles of war; don’t get entangled in the pleasures of Wu City because of flowers and wine. Seek answers about fate inside the Immortal Pavilion, ask about life and death in front of the Moon-Worshipping Pavilion. From now on, I hope you’ll reflect on yourself; when we meet again, let’s cook meals together.”

On the cover, eight lines were written: “Please deliver this letter to the Wu government office; its elegance is truly remarkable. My father holds a position related to cultural promotion today, while our ancestors have long been in charge of grain distribution. Though we know the eastern house is next to the western house, I still fear confusion between southern and northern hemp. On the way, ask people where Yanling Bridge is located.”

She took two silver hairpins as gifts to accompany the letter. Seven months passed after sending the letter, with no reply. During the Spring Festival, she learned that there was a man named Zhang in the front guard who was going to Suzhou to collect goods. Jiaoluan then took a pair of gold flowers and asked Sun Jiu to give them to Mr. Zhang, asking him to send a letter back. The content of the letter was the same as before, along with ten poems. One of them read: “Spring arrives, and all things in the world become fresh; yet in my boudoir, I’m torn apart by longing. The east wind blows wildly, and you are even more adrift; the moon is full, but I remain unfulfilled. My deep feelings cause me to grow gray-haired; with the sky so high, I have no way to entrust my thoughts to a messenger bird. To whom can I confide all my feelings? Please give this to the talented young man and have him read it carefully.”

On the cover was a quatrain: “Suzhou is just a short distance away in Wujiang; the Wu family oversees grain supplies there. Please remind the messenger to pay close attention and convey these messages to the talented young man.”

Mr. Zhang was an honest man. After finishing his task of collecting goods in Suzhou, he personally brought the letter to Wujiang. While asking for directions on Changqiao Bridge, Zhou Tingzhang happened to pass by. Hearing his Henan accent and learning that he was from the Wu family who supervised grain supplies, he realized it was Jiaoluan’s letter. Fearing that upon arrival he might learn of her remarriage, he stepped forward, introduced himself, invited him to a tavern for three drinks, and read the letter. He borrowed paper and pen at the tavern and quickly wrote a reply, claiming that his father was still ill and he was attending to his treatment, which had caused the delay; they would meet soon, so there was no need for worry. At the end of the letter he added, “I borrowed pen and paper on the road; please forgive me!” Mr. Zhang received the reply and returned to Nanyang within a day, giving it to Sun Jiu to deliver back to Miss Luan. When Luan read the letter, although no specific date was set, she still clung to hope like someone trying to satisfy hunger with illusions.

Three or four months passed, and still there was no news. Jiaoluan said to Aunt Cao, “Zhou Lang’s words deceived me!” Aunt Cao replied, “The oath is right here; heaven will witness it. Isn’t Zhou Lang afraid of death?” One day, word came that someone from Lin’an had arrived—it was Jiaoluan’s sister Jiaofeng, who had given birth and sent someone to share the good news. Comparing her own situation with her sister’s, Jiaoluan felt even more sorrowful. She was glad that it was an opportunity to send another letter, so she wrote another one through the same messenger. This was the third letter, also containing ten poems. The last stanza read: “Please urge the talented young man not to waste time; how many years can a married couple truly enjoy together? A woman from the Wang family becomes part of the Zhou family; a scholar’s son marries a warrior’s daughter. Three letters full of worries are entrusted to the messenger bird; countless sorrows weigh down her delicate brows. Though a letter covers a long distance, emotions cannot be fully expressed; longing grows in both places!”

On the cover were also four lines: “Please deliver this letter to Wujiang; the grain supervisor’s surname is Wu, and his name is Xiang. There’s no need to hurry on the way back; pause briefly under Yanling Bridge.”

From then on, Jiaoluan neglected sleep and meals, her beauty faded, and she cried secretly, falling ill from sorrow. Her parents wanted to arrange another marriage for her, but Jiaoluan refused, preferring to fast and worship Buddha forever. Aunt Cao advised her, “Zhou Lang may not come after all; don’t be too stubborn.”

“Faith is what preserves one’s youth,” said Jiaoluan. “A person without faith is nothing but an animal. Even if Zhou Lang betrays me, how dare I betray the gods?” Time passed swiftly, and before long three years had gone by. Jiaoluan said to Aunt Cao, “I’ve heard that Zhou Lang has married someone else; I’m not sure if this is true or not. But after three years without any news, his feelings must have changed. Yet as long as I don’t receive definite proof, my heart will never die.” Aunt Cao replied, “Why not ask Sun Jiu to go to Wujiang once and give him some money for expenses? If Zhou Lang hasn’t changed, it would be nice if he were asked to come back with her, wouldn’t it?” Jiaoluan said, “That’s exactly what I want. I also hope Auntie can write a letter urging him to set off soon.” Immediately, Jiaoluan composed a poem in the classical style. Its gist was as follows:

I recall those beautiful days of Qingming Festival, when we met by chance and became acquainted. We played among the wind and moon, our affection growing ever deeper.

We wandered hand in hand through the pavilions, vowing to bind our lives together with our black hair, our love as strong as mountains and seas.

Now the clouds are vast and the grass is green; the talented man longs to leave, filled with sorrow. His rosy cheeks lose their luster; he hears the geese calling, deepening his grief.

Though you go, it’s not as bitter as leaving one’s parents; yet it’s still worse than soldiers going to war. Heartbroken, I hold your hand and recall our vows.

I wished to be your partner, forever together; please don’t get lost in the pleasures of Suzhou. Since you left, I’ve frowned constantly, neglecting my makeup, my hair untidy like a broom.

Our love spans two distant places; who can share these moments of snow, moon, wind, and flowers? It’s pitiful that we’re at the prime of life, yet all we have are dreams of plum blossoms and butterflies.

Without joy beneath the wind and moon, I lie awake, my soul in turmoil. One night I dreamt you got married; by morning, I find my face aged with sorrow.

I vowed to be like divine thunder and lightning, spreading our love throughout the heavens. Yet you haven’t returned home, nor to your grave—why is it so hard to see you again?

The man feigns affection while the concubine feels true love; once more, messengers are sent to express sincere feelings. Pitifully, the beautiful girl shames even the flowers with her grace, unable to bear the loneliness in her fragrant boudoir.

Aunt Cao also described in her letter the niece’s suffering from longing and her intense desire to see him. The two letters were combined into one. The envelope was inscribed with four lines: “In the prestigious residence of the prime minister, he also serves as grain supervisor in Nanma. No need to ask about him by boat or pavilion—his home is right at the end of Yanling Bridge.”

Sun Jiu received the letter, traveled night and day, until he reached Tingling Bridge in Wujiang. Fearing it might not be delivered properly, he waited until Zhou Tingzhang personally handed it over. As soon as Zhou Tingzhang saw Sun Jiu, his face turned red; without asking how he was, he took the letter and put it in his sleeve before entering. After a while, he sent a servant out with this reply: “My lord has been married to the daughter of Wei Tongzhi for two years now. The road to Nanyang is too far, so he cannot return. It’s difficult to write a reply, so I rely on you to convey my words. This scented silk handkerchief was given to me during our first meeting with Lanjie. Along with it is the marriage contract. Please return them to end her hopes. I wanted to invite you for a meal, but I’m afraid my father would get angry if he found out. Here are five coins as travel expenses; no need to come back again.” Hearing this, Sun Jiu flew into rage, threw the coins on the ground refusing to accept them, stormed out, and cursed, “You wretched, heartless man! Worse than beasts! You’ve betrayed Lanjie’s sincere feelings—heaven surely won’t bless you!” With that, he cried bitterly and left. Passersby asked what happened, and Old Sun explained everything to them. From then on, Zhou Tingzhang became infamous in Wujiang, despised by all decent people. Truly, those who never do unjust things will have no enemies in the world.

Returning to Nanyang, Sun Jiu met Mingxia and burst into tears. Mingxia asked, “Did something bad happen on the way? Is Lord Zhou dead?” Sun Jiu only shook his head. After a long pause, he told her in detail what had happened: “He didn’t send back a reply, just returned the handkerchief and the marriage contract to end the girl’s hopes. I won’t go see her either.” With that, he wiped his tears and left, sighing deeply. Mingxia couldn’t hide anything and repeated Sun Jiu’s words. When Jiaolan saw the handkerchief, she knew Sun Jiu wasn’t lying. Filled with resentment, she summoned Aunt Cao to the fragrance room and told her everything. Aunt Cao tried to persuade her, but how could Jiaolan listen? She cried for three days and nights, staring at the three-foot-long scented silk handkerchief, thinking of committing suicide. But then she thought, “I, Jiaolan, am a daughter of a noble family, beautiful and talented. If I die like this, it would only benefit that heartless man.” So she wrote thirty-two poems of despair and one poem titled “The Song of Everlasting Sorrow.” The poem read: “Leaning against the door, I think deeply, sighing at the smiles we shared. Love draws me like threads to the tender green, while hatred follows the flowing water, fading the remaining red. Once I thought spring had returned, but now I realize beauty is but an illusion. Looking back at the balcony where our love began, I’m filled with sorrow, cursing the east wind from afar.”

My poems are not recorded here. An excerpt from her “Song of Everlasting Sorrow” reads:

“Song of Everlasting Sorrow, for whom is it composed? The very mention of it fills my heart with sorrow. Thinking of you day and night, with no end in sight; once again, I write on silk to express my shallow feelings.

I originally lived along the Lin’an Road, honored by the emperor’s grace for my merits. Later, due to my aging parents, I lost my military position and was demoted to a thousandth-ranking officer in Nanyang Guard.

In seclusion, I nurtured my delicate beauty, never stepping outside the courtyard. Little did I know that misfortune would strike at just the right time—I suddenly found myself accompanying my companions to the dressing table.

We had just finished playing games when suddenly we heard voices coming from behind the wall. Shyly, I returned to my boudoir, hurriedly searching for a fragrant handkerchief.

Who could have imagined that the handkerchief would end up in your hands? It only served to carry the scent of plum blossoms back and forth. Thanks to your gift of a poem about fragrant handkerchiefs, my longing has kept me ill for so long.

I am grateful that you helped me greet my mother and form bonds with siblings. Your letters, both frequent and sparse, show great kindness. Yet I fear this kindness might lead to a superficial relationship—we once swore eternal vows atop a mountain.

Even those vows were not trusted; then you asked Aunt Cao to act as a matchmaker. Once the marriage contract was written, it seemed destined for heaven.

Our love lasted two years, as sweet as honey. But then the talented man grew homesick and fell ill. Unable to bear his sorrow, I advised him to return to his hometown.

I warned him, “When you go to Suzhou, avoid the music of spring in the flower-lined streets. At the sight of your kind face, you’ll want to turn back—how lonely must it be in your boudoir?”

I earnestly asked him to leave the past behind and embrace the new. But who knew he would forget his promise? Thinking of you all day made death seem preferable.

Someone came to say you were remarrying. Several times I wanted to believe it, but it was hard to accept. Only later, when Sun Jiu returned, did I realize that the couple truly matched well.

Such love makes heartless people hate—yet a marriage spanning thousands of miles is hard to break. All the kindness I received was betrayed; where is the joy of romantic adventures now?

Regardless of how long or short my sorrow lasts, there’s no place where my poems don’t fill space. Five thousand sheets of brocade were inscribed with verses; three hundred writing brushes were used to write them all.

The woman in the jade chamber is thin and weak, yet the promised time only deepens our longing. In vain did I use astrology to predict fate; in vain did I consult the I Ching for guidance.

Thinking back carefully, our past relationship was sincere. If our love is as fleeting as clouds, why did we ever get involved at all?”

All orioles and swallows are in pairs; why am I born alone, without a match? My dear sister is two years younger; she now has a child who is three years old. I shame myself for abandoning such a precious life; she is happy while I am filled with loneliness and sorrow. Where are the vows we made years ago? Looking up, there are gods three feet above us. You go to the south of the river, while I stay in the north; thousands of miles of mountains and rivers separate us. If only I could suddenly grow wings and fly to Wujiang, to be by your side. When we first met, even heaven and earth knew it; now countless people speak ill of me. The Tiger Gate is tightly locked, but fate allows me to smile at your presence. I hate that you left so soon and went to the underworld, as if heaven never intended for me to exist. From now on, I’ll send letters to my old friend, without expecting a reply. Pitiful is the general in his iron armor; his daughter in the palace is as delicate as a flower. Just because she has some knowledge of music and literature, she soon returns to Esha. A white silk cloth hangs high on the beam; my soul wanders aimlessly before my eyes. I report of the tragic death of the lovely phoenix, causing laughter throughout Lin’an. I ashamed myself for not being a good woman, for recklessly giving away my love. The debt of longing will be repaid in the netherworld; I won’t spare you there. You once doted on me, but now I hate you deeply. I knew my feelings were kind, but who would have thought your heart was like that of an animal! Once again, I send this piece of silk ribbon to you far away. I lament that fortune and misfortune depend on such things; killing may be forgiven, but love cannot be spared. These are my final words; let past worries end here. If you still remember our old romance, please read this letter from the lovely phoenix. The letter is written; I want to send Sun Jiu again. Sun Jiu grits his teeth and refuses to go. Just then, his father’s phlegm-related illness flares up, and he asks the lovely phoenix to help him review the documents. She finds among them records of soldiers from the Wujiang County regiment who had deserted. She comes up with a plan: she gathers the poems they wrote together in the past, along with today’s “Poem of Despair” and “Song of Eternal Sorrow,” puts them together with the marriage contract, seals them in an envelope labeled “To be opened immediately by Wang, the military officer in charge of Nanyang Regiment, in Wujiang County, Suzhou Prefecture, Directly Governed Areas,” and sends it off with the messenger. Old Wang has no idea about this at all.

That evening, Jiaoluan took a bath and changed her clothes, then sent Minglu out to make tea. After closing the door, she used a stool to prop herself up. First, she hung a white ribbon from the beam, took the fragrant silk handkerchief from before, tied it around her neck, connected it to the white ribbon, and tied a tight knot. Then she pushed aside the stool, hanging suspended in mid-air—her soul seemingly drifting away, her vital forces sinking deep. She was only twenty-one years old. That fragrant silk handkerchief became both her salvation and her downfall.

When Mingxia brought the tea, she found the door tightly closed and couldn’t open it, so she hurriedly reported it to Aunt Cao. Aunt Cao and Lady Zhou went to check, and they were shocked beyond measure. Lord Wang also arrived. The whole family wept bitterly, not knowing what had happened. They had no choice but to buy a coffin for burial. Let’s set this matter aside for now.

Back to the story: The governor of Wujiang received a document from Nanyang Guard and was greatly astonished upon reading it. Such a thing had never been heard of before. Coincidentally, Judge Zhao from the local court was inspecting the county along with Official Fan. The governor and Judge Zhao had been classmates in the imperial examinations, so he told Judge Zhao about this incident. Judge Zhao examined the document and reported it as a strange case to Official Fan. Official Fan carefully studied the poem and the marriage contract, deeply regretting Jiaoluan’s talent while despising Zhou Tingzhang’s infidelity. He ordered Judge Zhao to secretly investigate the man. The next day, he had him arrested and brought before Official Fan. At first, Tingzhang denied everything, but when he saw the evidence in the marriage contract, he dared not speak. Official Fan ordered him to be severely punished and imprisoned. A message was sent to Nanyang Guard to inquire whether Jiaoluan had committed suicide. Within a day, a reply came saying Jiaoluan was dead. Official Fan then retrieved Zhou Tingzhang from prison and brought him to the court. He scolded him, saying, “Assaulting an official’s daughter is one crime; divorcing his wife to remarry is another; causing her death through infidelity is the third. The marriage contract states: ‘If a man betrays his woman, he shall die by a thousand arrows.’ I don’t have arrows to shoot you with, so I’ll beat you to death as a warning to other unfaithful men.” He ordered the guards to beat him mercilessly with bamboo sticks. As they struck, blood and flesh flew everywhere. In moments, he was reduced to pulp. Everyone in the city rejoiced at this. When Teacher Zhou heard about it, he died of anger on the spot. Lady Wei later remarried, craving the wealth and beauty of her new husband, yet abandoning her vows—what good was that? There’s a poem that laments: “One night of longing brings a hundred nights of sorrow; how can such a heartless man escape punishment? If you say infidelity goes unpunished, read ‘The Song of Everlasting Sorrow’ from those days.” Volume 35: The Governor Decides the Fate of the Dead Child

Spring flowers and autumn moons bring much charm, yet beauty fades before time. If we compare human hearts to pines and cypresses, how many can remain steadfast through harsh winters?

These four lines discuss how spring flowers and autumn moons disturb people’s hearts, which is why poets write about autumnal sadness and beauties compose verses about spring sorrow. Often, poems express hatred, glances convey affection, secret meetings take place under the moon or among flowers—all in pursuit of fleeting pleasure, disregarding lifelong integrity. This is mutual longing, each repaying their own debt—a matter beyond discussion.

There are also cases where the man is greedy but the woman is not in love, or the woman is in love but the man is not greedy. Though it’s not a mutual affection, there is still sincerity. It’s like the clay deity in a deserted temple—through daily prayers and incense offerings, it gradually becomes somewhat sentient. If their bond is short-lived, they part after meeting; if it’s long-lasting, their distance turns into closeness. This is something common in matters of love and romance, and need not be elaborated upon. There are also those men who are not attracted to women, and women who are not infatuated—whose aspirations are as pure as fine gold and whose hearts are as firm as stone. Unintentionally, they are manipulated by others through schemes and traps, and once they fall victim to these tactics, they regret it deeply afterward. For example, during the Song Dynasty, Zen master Yu Tong practiced for fifty years until he was lured by the prefect Liu Xuanjiao. Liu had a prostitute named Honglian pretend to be a widow and stay at his place, using various temptations to break Yu’s vows. Such encounters between men and women are often the result of a momentary lapse in judgment. Now, let’s tell another story about someone who seduced a widow into breaking her chastity, which can serve as a counterpart to Yu Tong’s story. As the saying goes:

“Do not seek the path until you’ve left the mountain of indulgence; do not practice meditation while still immersed in the sea of desire.”

During the Xuande era, in Yizhen County, Yangzhou Prefecture, Southern Zhili, there lived a man named Qiu Yuanji, who was quite wealthy. He married a woman surnamed Shao, who was exceptionally beautiful and virtuous. The couple loved each other deeply. After six years together, they had no children. Unexpectedly, Yuanji fell ill and died. Shao was only 23 years old. Overcome with grief, she resolved to remain a widow for life, never marrying again. Three years passed before she completed her mourning period. Her parents, considering her young age, advised her to remarry. Her uncle, Qiu Dasheng, also tried to persuade her gently. But Shao was as firm as iron, vowing, “My late husband lies in the netherworld. If I marry another man, I will either die by sword or by rope!” Seeing her determination, no one dared press her further. As the old saying goes, “A little jealousy can turn one into a widow.” Being a widow is not easy to endure. Considering things carefully for Shao, it would be better to simply find another husband—even if he wasn’t perfect, he could still be decent, avoiding future embarrassment. As the saying goes:

“One must act steadily; never pursue empty fame.”

Shao spoke firmly. Among those around her, some were wise while others were skeptical. Some praised her, while others watched her with doubt. Yet Shao remained steadfast in her chastity, keeping her household strictly controlled. She had only one maid named Xiugu to keep her company and help with household chores, and a young boy named De Gui, who was about ten years old and responsible for guarding the front door. All purchases and deliveries were handled by De Gui. Any adult servants were sent away. The courtyard was free of strangers, and everything inside was orderly. Over the years, everyone respected her. It goes without saying that Lady Shao was mature beyond her years and skilled at managing her household.

Time flies like an arrow, and before long, ten years had passed. Lady Shao missed her husband and wanted to hold rituals in his memory. She asked Ge Gui to invite Uncle Qiu Dasheng to discuss the matter, and they invited seven monks to conduct three days and nights of merit-making ceremonies. Lady Shao said, “I am a widow; I rely entirely on Uncle to oversee these rituals.” Dasheng agreed.

Meanwhile, a man named Zhi Zhu moved in nearby. He came from a poor family and never worked properly; instead, he spent his time meddling in others’ affairs. Hearing that Lady Shao was a chaste widow and also quite beautiful—a rare sight in the world—Zhi Zhu didn’t believe it. Day and night, he stood outside Qiu’s house. Indeed, no strangers entered; only Ge Gui’s servants came in and out. Zhi Zhu got to know Ge Gui and gradually became familiar with him. In casual conversation, he asked Ge Gui, “I heard your lady is very beautiful—is that true?” Raised in a family that valued propriety, Ge Gui answered honestly, “She is indeed beautiful.” Zhi Zhu then asked, “Does your lady ever come out to look at the street?” Ge Gui shook his head and said, “She has never left the house. Not even to look at the street—that would be sinful!”

One day, while Ge Gui was buying ingredients for vegetarian meals, Zhi Zhu overheard him and asked, “Why are you buying so many vegetarian items?” Ge Gui replied, “It’s for my master’s tenth anniversary; we need them for the rituals.” Zhi Zhu asked, “When?” Ge Gui said, “Starting tomorrow, for three days and nights. It will be quite tiring!” Zhi Zhu thought to himself, “Since they’re holding rituals to honor her husband, she must surely come out to burn incense. I’ll sneak a peek to see what she looks like. Does she really seem like a widow?”

The next day, Qiu Dasheng invited seven monks, all of whom were devout. They arranged Buddha statues in the hall, played drums and bells, recited scriptures, and performed penitential rites with great sincerity. Qiu Dasheng prayed diligently to Buddha. Lady Shao came out to burn incense once each day and night. After burning the incense, she went back inside. Taking advantage of the busy atmosphere during the rituals, Zhi Zhu tried several times to sneak in to take a look, but he never saw Lady Shao come out again. He asked Ge Gui, who told him that she only came out once during the day to burn incense.

On the third day, around mealtime, Zhi Zhu sneaked in again and hid behind a partition. He saw the monks wearing robes, standing in front of Buddha, playing musical instruments, and chanting prayers. The priests were busy adding incense and changing candles. There was only Ge Gui present, so he could only handle those tasks and had no time to pay attention to anything else. Even Qiu Dasheng and a few relatives just watched the monks perform, with no one checking on Zhi Zhu. Soon, Lady Shao came out to burn incense, and Zhi Zhu observed her closely. As the saying goes, “To be truly beautiful, one must show extra filial piety.” Dressed in black clothes, she appeared even more elegant. She was truly like:

“A fairy descending from the moon in winter, a goddess emerging from the snow.”

At first glance, Zhi Zhu felt numb all over and longed to go home. That night, the meditation hall was in perfect order, and the monks did not disperse until dawn. Lady Shao still did not come out of the main hall. Zhi Zhu had no idea what to do and thought, “Since De Gui is honest, I’ll try to trick him.” It was the fifth day of the fifth month, and Zhi Zhu invited De Gui home to drink Xiong Lian E wine. De Gui said, “I can’t drink alcohol; I’m afraid my mistress will scold me if my face turns red.” Zhi Zhu replied, “If you won’t drink alcohol, at least eat some zongzi.” De Gui followed Zhi Zhu home. Zhi Zhu told his family to prepare a plate of zongzi, a dish of sugar, a bowl of meat, a bowl of fresh fish, two pairs of chopsticks, and two wine cups, and place them on the table. Zhi Zhu then poured wine from the bottle. De Gui said, “I said I won’t drink alcohol; stop pouring!” Zhi Zhu said, “Having a cup of Xiong Lian E wine is in keeping with the season. My wine is mild; it won’t hurt.” Unable to refuse, De Gui drank it. Zhi Zhu said, “Young men shouldn’t drink just one cup; they should drink in pairs.” De Gui couldn’t decline and drank another cup. After drinking himself once, Zhi Zhu picked up food several times and talked about some gossip from the neighborhood. He poured another cup and persuaded De Gui, who said, “My face is already red from drunkenness; I really won’t drink any more now.” Zhi Zhu said, “Your face is red on both sides; sit a little longer before going back. What’s the rush? Just have this one cup; I won’t persuade you anymore.” In total, De Gui drank three cups of wine. Having been strictly controlled by Lady Shao since childhood, he had never tasted alcohol before. After drinking three cups, he felt dizzy and drunk. Taking advantage of his drunken state, Zhi Zhu whispered, “De Gui, I have something to ask you.” De Gui said, “Just say it.” Zhi Zhu said, “Your mistress has been a widow for a long time; surely her desires must be stirring. If she could share a bed with a man, wouldn’t she like that? Widows always yearn for men, but it’s hard to meet them. How about you taking me there to try? If it works, I’ll thank you greatly.” De Gui said, “What are you talking about! You’re not afraid of sin! My mistress is extremely proper; her household is orderly. Men aren’t allowed inside during the day, and at night, a maid brings a lamp to check around before locking all the doors before she goes to sleep. Even if she wanted to let you in, where would you hide? The maid stays by her side the whole time, so there’s no chance to talk nonsense. Yet you still talk such nonsense!” Zhi Zhu asked, “Then can your doorkeeper watch over things?” De Gui replied, “Of course he can.” Zhi Zhu asked, “De Gui, how old are you?” De Gui said, “Seventeen.” Zhi Zhu said, “A man should be knowledgeable by the age of sixteen. You’re seventeen now—don’t you think about women?” De Gui replied, “Even if I did, it’s useless.” Zhi Zhu said, “With someone as beautiful as hers right here, day and night in front of you, shouldn’t you be tempted?” De Gui said, “It’s inappropriate to say this. She’s my mistress; she beats or scolds me at every turn. I’m terrified just looking at her! How dare you make such jokes.” Zhi Zhu said, “Since you refuse to take me there, let me teach you a method; you can try it yourself.” De Gui shook his head and said, “I can’t do it; I don’t have the courage!” Zhi Zhu said, “Don’t worry about whether you can do it or not. I’ll teach you a method; go and try it. If it works, don’t forget my kindness today.”

Driven by drunkenness and reaching an appropriate age, De Gui became curious after what Zhi Zhu said, and asked, “Tell me how to try it.” Zhi Zhu said, “When you go to bed at night, don’t close the door; leave it open. It’s hot in May now, so lie there naked on your back. When she comes to check the door, pretend you’re asleep. If she sees you, she’ll surely become interested. After one or two times, she definitely won’t be able to resist...”

One had long been deprived of pleasure, the other was experiencing love for the first time. One recognized a familiar presence and wouldn’t give it up easily; the other, having tasted sweetness, couldn’t let go so quickly. One, starved for affection, didn’t mind the servant’s rough appearance; the other, accustomed to indulgence, feared nothing even the mistress’s authority. It was like evil weeds entwining with beautiful flowers—truly a pity that pure hearts turned corrupt, turning into polluted spring waters flowing eastward. Ten years of purity became meaningless in one night; such filth could hardly be described.

Afterward, Lady Shao said to De Gui, “I have endured hardship for ten years. Now that I’ve given myself to you, it’s like settling a debt from a past life. You must keep this a secret and not reveal it to anyone. I’ll find a way to deal with you.” De Gui replied, “How dare I disobey the lady’s orders?” From that night on, every night Lady Shao would use the excuse of checking the door to spend time with De Gui before going inside. Fearing that Xiu Gu would discover this, she would create an opportunity for De Gui to also seduce Xiu Gu. Lady Shao deliberately tried to blame Xiu Gu, but instead had Xiu Gu bring De Gui in so as to silence her. The two of them kept everything a secret from each other. Grateful for De Gui’s support and guidance, Lady Shao often asked him for favors, promising to repay him in the future. De Gui was afraid of angering his masteress and thus dared not speak up. After several attempts, De Gui continued to delay. After three or five months, Lady Shao and De Gui lived together as if they were husband and wife.

It was only a matter of time before things were exposed. Lady Shao had been married for six years without having children. Now, just after three or five months, her belly began to swell as she became pregnant. Fearing discovery, she gave money to De Gui to secretly buy drugs for an abortion, so as to avoid embarrassment later. First, De Gui was an honest man who didn’t know what abortifacient drugs were. Second, under Lady Shao’s guidance, he regarded her as his benefactor and spoke openly about everything. So he went to her to discuss this private matter. That benefactor, being a scoundrel, was already angry that De Gui wouldn’t introduce him to Lady Shao. Now he saw this as an opportunity for profit. He came up with a plan and deceived De Gui, saying, “Only I know someone who can get the most effective medicine. I’ll go buy it for you.” He then went to a pharmacy and bought four doses of a medicine meant to strengthen the fetus, giving them to De Gui. Lady Shao took the medicine four times, but nothing happened, so she asked De Gui to get better medicine elsewhere. De Gui asked the benefactor, “Why wasn’t the previous medicine effective?” The benefactor replied, “An abortion can only be done once. If it doesn’t work the first time, it can’t be done again. Besides, this is the best medicine available. If it doesn’t work now, the fetus must be very strong. Using stronger drugs might harm the mother’s life.” De Gui repeated these words to Lady Shao, who believed them.

When October was nearly over, the benefactor guessed it was time for childbirth. He went to De Gui and said, “I need a blood child to make a tonic. Your masteress is about to give birth, and once the child is born, she’ll surely abandon it. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, you can give it to me later. You owe me much; this will be a small way to repay me. Just hide it from your masteress.” De Gui agreed.

A few days later, a son was indeed born. Lady Shao drowned the baby, wrapped it in reeds, and told De Gui to secretly bury it. De Gui pretended to understand but didn’t bury it instead secretly giving it to the benefactor. Once the benefactor had the dead child, he grabbed De Gui and shouted, “Your masteress is the wife of Qiu Yuanji. The family head has been dead for years, and she’s now a widow. Where did this child come from? I’ll go report this!” De Gui hurriedly tried to cover him up.

De Gui, anxious, had tears in her eyes. Knowing she couldn’t hide it at home, she told Shao Shi about it. Shao Shi complained, “What kind of thing is this? Giving it away as a gift! It will get me killed!” Then she began to cry. De Gui said, “If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have given it to them either. But since he’s my benefactor, I couldn’t refuse.” Shao Shi asked, “What kind of benefactor is he?” De Gui replied, “It was he who taught me how to seduce you when I was lying there naked. Without him, how could we be lovers today? He said the blood child was needed for an antidote—how could I not obey him? Who knew he had evil intentions!” Shao Shi said, “What you’ve done is truly despicable. It was my own mistake that led me into this sorcery; now I regret it deeply. If we don’t use silver to buy back the child, he’ll surely expose us, and then it will be impossible to fix things.” She then took out forty taels of silver and told De Gui to give it to that swindler to retrieve the blood child, so it could be buried secretly to put an end to the trouble.

De Gui, honest as ever, handed the forty taels to Zhi Zhu with both hands and said, “This is all I have. Please return the blood child to me!” Having received the silver, Zhi Zhu became even more greedy. He thought, “This woman is beautiful, and she has money. If I take advantage of this opportunity to get close to her, I can control her family’s affairs—how wonderful!” So he said to De Gui, “I joked about asking for silver. Since you really gave it to me, I have no choice but to accept it. I’ve already buried the blood child. Could you introduce me to her so I can live with them? If she agrees, I’ll manage their household, and no one will dare to bully them. Wouldn’t that be perfect? Otherwise, I’ll dig up the child from underground and expose you within five days.” With no other choice, De Gui went home and told Shao Shi. Shao Shi flew into a rage and said, “Ignore what that swindler says! Don’t pay attention to him!” De Gui didn’t dare say anything more.

Meanwhile, Zhi Zhu soaked the blood child in lime and put it back in a straw bag, hiding it in a secret place. After waiting five days with no reply from De Gui, he waited another five days—ten days in total. Thinking the woman in labor must now be recovering, he went to Qiu’s house, waiting for De Gui to come out, and asked, “Has what was agreed been done?” De Gui shook his head and said, “No, not yet!” Without asking further, Zhi Zhu rushed straight into the house. De Gui didn’t dare...

She tried to stop him, then went to the street entrance to inquire about news from afar. Shao Shi saw someone entering the main hall and scolded, “People should stay inside their own homes. Who are you to burst into my house?” Zhi Zhu said, “My surname is Zhi, and my name is Zhu. I am the benefactor of your brother.” Shao Shi already knew who he was, so she said, “If you’re looking for your brother, go outside. This isn’t a place for you to rest!” Zhi Zhu replied, “I’ve long admired you greatly, like one in hunger or thirst. Though I may not be as capable as your brother, why reject me so harshly?” Hearing this, Shao Shi felt the conversation wasn’t going her way and turned to leave. Zhi Zhu rushed after her, grabbed her with both hands, and said, “Your child is with me now. If you don’t come with me, I’ll kill him.” Filled with rage and unable to get free, Shao Shi tried to coax him with kind words, saying, “I’m afraid people will find out during the day. At night, I’ll have your brother come and pick you up.” Zhi Zhu said, “Promise it in person—don’t break your word.” He released her, walked a few steps, then turned back and said, “I’m not afraid you’ll break your promise either!” Then he left.

Shao Shi was so angry that she was speechless for a long time, tears streaming down her face. She pushed open the door of her room and sat alone on a stool, thinking deeply. It was all her fault. She had refused to remarry and wanted to live a respectable life, but now she had embarrassed herself—how could she face her relatives? She thought, “I once swore before everyone, ‘If I serve two men, I’ll die by the sword or hanging.’ I’m willing to risk my life to repay my late husband from beyond the grave—but this way, I won’t be pure!” Xiu Gu saw her mistress crying and didn’t dare approach to comfort her; instead, she stayed by the main door, waiting for De Gui to return.

De Gui saw Zhi Zhu leave on the street before heading home. When he returned, Xiu Gu asked, “Where’s the mistress?” Xiu Gu pointed inside. De Gui pushed open the door to see his mistress. Shao Shi had taken a kitchen knife from the bedside, intending to commit suicide, but she couldn’t lift her arm. After crying for a while, she placed the knife on the table. She untied an eight-foot-long handkerchief from her waist, tied it into a knot, and hung it from the beam, planning to strangle herself with it. Her heart was filled with sorrow, and she couldn’t help but cry softly. Suddenly, she saw De Gui enter the room. This sparked a thought in her: “It was all that wretched man who set traps to deceive me and ruined my reputation for life!” Without hesitation, driven by this thought, she met her enemy head-on, picked up the kitchen knife, and swung at De Gui. The knife moved swiftly as if carried by the wind; fueled by anger, she exerted extra strength and split De Gui’s head in two, blood spilling everywhere. He died instantly. In a panic, Shao Shi put her neck through the noose, kicked the stool aside, and hung herself like a swing.

A new victim of injustice was added to the underworld, while the world lost its beautiful widow.

As the saying goes, “Gambling leads to theft, and lust leads to murder.” Today, just because of the word “lust,” two lives were lost. Xiu Gu was used to such things, but fearing something might happen once she entered the room, she stayed far away. When she saw no sign of activity after a while, she grew worried. Upon going to check, she saw one body hanging upside down and another lying horizontally, which terrified her so much that she collapsed. Gathering her courage, she locked the door and rushed to Uncle Qiu Dasheng’s house to report what had happened. Qiu Dasheng was shocked and immediately informed Mr. and Mrs. Shao, who all went to Qiu’s house, closed the doors, and interrogated Xiu Gu about the cause of death. It turned out that Xiu Gu didn’t know about the affair between De Gui and Shao Shi, nor was she aware that they had deceived her out of forty taels of silver. So Xiu Gu simply recounted Shao Shi’s past affair with De Gui. “I don’t understand why both of them died today?” they asked repeatedly, but she only repeated her story. Upon hearing about the affair, Mr. and Mrs. Shao felt ashamed and left, ignoring the matter. Qiu Dasheng had no choice but to take Xiu Gu to the county to report it. The magistrate examined the two bodies: one was De Gui, killed by a knife wound; the other was Shao Shi, strangled to death. After hearing Xiu Gu’s account, the magistrate said, “Shao Shi indeed had an affair with De Gui; their master-slave relationship was broken. It must have been De Gui’s words that offended her, causing her to act in anger and accidentally kill someone, then hang herself in panic. There’s no other reason.” He ordered Qiu Dasheng to arrange the funerals. Once Xiu Gu learned of this, she returned to sue the officials.

As for Zhi Zhu, after failing in his attempt to seduce her that day, he went home, still intending to keep his night appointment. Hearing that two people had died, he was terrified and dared not go outside for a long time. One morning, he accidentally found some blood-marinated beef wrapped in a reed bag and threw it into the river. He met a acquaintance named Bao Jiu, who worked as a labor leader at Yizhen Locks. Bao Jiu asked, “Brother Zhi, what’s that?” Zhi Zhu replied, “It’s some marinated beef, wrapped up for eating, but it’s gone bad. Brother Jiu, have you nothing to do these days? Come to my place for a drink.” Bao Jiu said, “I’m busy today. Lord Kuang Zhong from Suzhou Prefecture is returning to his post by boat, so I’m here to help transport him!” Zhi Zhu said, “Then let’s meet another day.” And he left.

Kuang Zhong originally came from a bureaucratic background. Minister Hu Rong recommended him as the governor of Suzhou Prefecture. After serving for a year, the people called him “Kuang the Just.” Due to family obligations, he returned to his hometown, but the emperor overruled this and ordered him to resume his duties immediately, providing him with special transportation. When the boat arrived at Yizhen Locks, Kuang Zhong was reading in his cabin when he suddenly heard crying coming from the river—probably from a drowned child. He sent someone to check, and they reported, “There’s nothing there.” This happened twice. Kuang Zhong heard the crying again, but everyone else claimed they didn’t hear anything. Finding it strange, he pushed open the window and saw a small reed bag floating on the water. He ordered the sailors to retrieve it. When opened, it contained a baby. Kuang Zhong asked, “Is it alive or dead?” The sailor replied, “It’s been marinated in lime—it seems to be dead for a long time.” Kuang Zhong thought, “How can a dead child cry? Besides, if it’s a dead child, it’s enough to just let it sink—why marinate it in lime? There must be a reason!”

Call the sailors and put this dead child along with the bundle at the bow of the boat: “If anyone knows its origin, report it to me secretly; I have a generous reward.” The sailors obeyed and brought it to the bow. By chance, Bao Jiu saw the small bundle and recognized it as belonging to Zhi Zhu. He said it was stinky beef, so how could it be a dead child? He then went inside to report to Lord Kuang: “I don’t know the origin of this child, but I recognize that the person who dropped it in the river is named Zhi Zhu.” Lord Kuang said, “Now that we know who it is, we’ll find out its origin.” One man was sent to arrest Zhi Zhu, while another invited County Magistrate Yi Zhen to the courthouse to investigate this matter together.

Lord Kuang took the dead child with him to the courthouse. When the county magistrate arrived, Zhi Zhu was also brought in. Lord Kuang sat in the main seat, with the county magistrate sitting to his left. Since Yi Zhen’s jurisdiction wasn’t his own, Lord Kuang didn’t dare act alone and let the local magistrate conduct the interrogation. The county magistrate, knowing Lord Kuang had been a teacher and was quite peculiar, didn’t dare overstep his authority. After much hesitation, Lord Kuang finally spoke up and asked, “Zhi Zhu, where did you get this child pickled in lime?” Zhi Zhu tried to deny it, but Bao Jiu pointed him out, forcing him to say, “I saw this dirty thing by the road and thought it was inconvenient, so I threw it into the river. I really don’t know its origin.”

Lord Kuang asked Bao Jiu, “Did you see him by the road?” Bao Jiu replied, “He threw himself into the river; I just saw him then. When I asked what it was, he said it was stinky beef.” Lord Kuang became furious and ordered his men to take a heavy board and beat him twenty times before questioning him further. Lord Kuang’s blows were fierce—twenty blows were worse than forty, leaving his skin torn open and blood flowing. Zhi Zhu still refused to confess. Lord Kuang ordered him to be tied up.

Lord Kuang’s torture methods were also severe. The first time, Zhi Zhu managed to endure it; the second time, he couldn’t hold on anymore and confessed, “This dead child belongs to Widow Shao. The widow had an affair with her servant De Gui and gave birth to this illegitimate child. De Gui asked me to bury it for her, but dogs dug it out. That’s why I threw it into the river.” Lord Kuang noticed his statements were inconsistent. He asked again, “If you were willing to bury it, you must have some connection with their family.” Zhi Zhu said, “I have no connection with them; I just knew De Gui well.” Lord Kuang asked, “If it was meant to rot, why was it pickled in lime?” Zhi Zhu couldn’t answer and could only kowtow, saying, “Oh, heavens! It was indeed me who pickled it in lime. I knew Widow Shao’s family was wealthy and wanted to keep the child to demand some silver from them. Unexpectedly, both Widow Shao and De Gui died, so I couldn’t carry out my plan, hence I threw it into the river.” Lord Kuang asked, “Are those woman and servant really dead?” The county magistrate stood up beside him and bowed, confirming, “They are dead; I personally verified it.” Lord Kuang asked, “How did they die?” The county magistrate replied, “The servant was killed with a knife, and the woman committed suicide. I also investigated thoroughly—they had been having an affair for a long time, and the master-slave relationship had long since disappeared. Likely, the servant said something offensive, causing the woman to become enraged and pick up a knife...”

“Cut him off, accidentally killing him; in panic, he hanged himself. There’s nothing else to say.” Lord Kuang hesitated, thinking, “Since those two were in a corrupt relationship, even minor words could lead to such cruelty! The child dying earlier must have had a reason!” He then asked, “Is there anyone else in the Shao family?” The county magistrate replied, “There’s a maid named Xiugu, who was sold by the authorities.” Lord Kuang said, “If she was sold by the authorities, she must be here in the area. Please send someone to bring her here for interrogation, and we’ll know the truth.” The county magistrate immediately sent someone to fetch her.

Before long, Xiugu was brought in, and her account matched what the county magistrate had heard. Lord Kuang hesitated for a while, then stepped down from his seat and pointed at Zhi Zhuo, asking Xiugu, “Do you recognize this man?” Xiugu examined him carefully and said, “I don’t know his name, but I’ve seen his face before.” Lord Kuang said, “That’s right. He must be familiar with De Gui, as he must have come to your house with him. Tell the truth; if you hesitate in the slightest, you’ll be punished.” Xiugu said, “I really never saw him come to the house before. But later, he suddenly rushed into the main hall and tried to harass the mistress, who drove him away. Soon after, De Gui arrived, and the mistress was crying in her room. When De Gui entered, both of them died shortly after.” Lord Kuang scolded Zhi Zhuo, “You wretch! If you weren’t involved with De Gui, how dare you rush into the main hall? These two deaths are all because of you!” He ordered his men to tie Zhi Zhuo up again. Zhi Zhuo became unconscious under the pressure and confessed everything: how he had tricked De Gui into seducing the mistress, how he had deceived him into giving him the baby, how he had forced De Gui to join in the adultery, and how he had broken into the room to force intercourse, only to be escaped by De Gui. As for the reasons for their deaths, he actually didn’t know. Lord Kuang said, “This is the truth.” He released Zhi Zhuo and ordered the clerk to record his confession clearly. The county magistrate, realizing his own incompetence, was filled with fear. Lord Kuang then wrote down the judgment:

“It is determined that Zhi Zhuo is a scoundrel. He first took a fancy to the widow and harbored evil intentions; exploiting the ignorance of a weak servant, he used deceitful words. He lay naked at the door, carrying out his schemes; he used various tricks to steal a fetus and obtain a child. Unable to get what he wanted through adultery, he turned to seeking profit; still unsatisfied with profit, he continued to seek adultery. The Shao family made a mistake by trying to cover up the theft of the bell; yet Zhi Zhuo used repeated deceptions to break in through the wall. Out of hatred toward De Gui, kindness turned into enmity; after killing De Gui, he committed suicide, deserving even greater punishment. As for the master and servant, they’re already dead, and there’s nothing more to say about maid Xiugu. Only the ringleader remains at large. Bao Jiu encountered this incident unintentionally, and the baby cried for a reason—if it was fate, then the crime is unforgivable! He should be sentenced to death and forced to return the stolen money.”

After reading the judgment, even Zhi Zhuo was willing to confess his guilt. Lord Kuang reported the case to his superiors, who praised his great talent. The people spread the news, believing that Bao Longtu had returned—this was no exaggeration. This is a short story.

Also titled “Governor Kuang Sentences a Child to Death”.
There is a poem to prove it:

Pretty Lady Shao is overwhelmed with longing,
Foolish Guifu suffers more from misfortune than blessing.
Zhi Chigun’s schemes are as cunning as those of a ghost;
Governor Kuang, like a god, upholds justice in court.

Volume 36: The Great Jiaojiao Forest – Wang Pretends to Be Someone Else

Wealth and honor still require wisdom and intelligence;
Confucius should have been made a marquis at a young age.
People of that time did not understand the will of heaven,
Leaving them in sorrow both day and night.

It is said that during the Han Dynasty, there was an official in Chengdu Prefecture, Western Sichuan, named Luan Ba. He had a fondness for Taoist practices since youth. He rose to the rank of court official and was appointed governor of Yuzhang. On the day he was to take office, halfway there, people from near and far came to greet him. Upon arriving in Yuzhang, he completed all the formalities related to his appointment. Inside Yuzhang City, there was a temple called Lushan Temple. What a magnificent temple! With lush greenery, ancient cypresses shaped like dragons, blue tiles reaching the clouds, and red gates shining in the sunlight. Its towering structure dominated the clear rivers stretching for miles; its power over life and death determined the fortunes of the entire region. The temple’s inscriptions were in ancient script, and rows of palace locust trees lined the courtyard.

This temple was very sacred; the deity within could speak to people inside the temple and even drink wine and throw cups in midair. People from all over Yuzhang prefecture came there to pray for blessings, believing it could control the wind and waves to help their ships sail smoothly—such was its miraculous power. When Governor Luan arrived in Lushan Prefecture, he went to various temples to offer incense. When he reached the mountain temple, the temple priest greeted him. The governor said, “I’ve heard that the deity here is extremely powerful, able to speak to people. I wish to see it and receive its blessings.” He offered incense and bowed, saying, “Luan Ba has just arrived in this prefecture. I come here to offer incense, hoping for your divine grace to manifest.” He asked several times, but no sound came from inside the temple. Anxious, the governor said, “I can practice the true ways of heaven. This must be a ghost that is afraid of me and thus refuses to make a sound.” He pulled back the curtain to take a look—and to his astonishment, the statue of the deity was gone. That deity was actually a mischievous spirit that dared not appear when Governor Luan came to inspect the temple. The governor said, “The temple ghost pretends to be an official of heaven, harming the common people.” He immediately ordered his men to demolish the temple. Fearing that this ghost might wander the world, causing harm and deceiving good people, he investigated further to trace its whereabouts.

It is said that this ghost went to Qi Prefecture and transformed into a scholar of extraordinary beauty and unmatched intellect. The governor of Qi Prefecture gave his daughter in marriage to him. When Governor Luan learned of his whereabouts, he submitted a report to have him removed from his position. He then went to Qi Prefecture, met with the governor, and ordered that the ghost be captured. The governor summoned the man who pretended to be his son-in-law, but he refused to come out. Governor Luan said, “Your ‘son-in-law’ is not human; he is a ghost pretending to be an official of heaven. He fled here after being pursued fiercely in Yuzhang City. It’s easy to get him out now.” He then wrote a talisman using pen and ink, blew it into the air, and it seemed as though someone caught it.

That talisman went straight into the daughter of the prefect’s room. Meanwhile, the scholar was in the room, looking at his family and saying, “If I go, I’m surely going to die!” With the talisman in his mouth, the scholar walked up to Prefect Luan. Prefect Luan shouted, “Old ghost, why don’t you show your true form?” The scholar immediately transformed into an old raccoon and kowtowed, begging for his life. Prefect Luan said, “You shouldn’t harm innocent people; according to the laws of heaven, you must be executed.” With a command, the raccoon’s head fell to the ground, and everything returned to peace.

It is said that Prefect Luan was very skilled at dealing with demons. Yet today, a government official, just because he took up his post, inadvertently caused some strange and eerie incident, almost costing him his life. During the Xuanhe era of the Great Song Dynasty, there was an official named Zhao Zaili from Dongjing who was appointed as the magistrate of Xinhuai County in Guangzhou. How wonderful was this place? As the poem goes:

Sugarcane and agarwood are cut into firewood;
Litchi trees with round fruits are planted around the fences.

Boats facilitate trade with foreign lands;
Waterways allow travelers from other countries to come and go.

The land remains warm throughout the three winters, with no snow;
The climate is mild, and flowers bloom in all four seasons.

Guangnan is truly enviable—a region with amber and tortoiseshell steps.

After bidding farewell to his mother and wife, he set off with a few servants. It took more than a day to reach the county, where officials came to congratulate him. On the first day, he visited the temple to offer incense; on the second day, he handed over the official seals; on the third day, he began handling official affairs. Suddenly, the sound of drums echoed, and officials lined up on both sides. It seemed like a case related to life and death before King Yama, or perhaps a ritual at the Spirit-Calling Platform of Mount Tai.

Just as the magistrate sat in his office, he suddenly sneezed, and everyone in the hall also sneezed. The assistant magistrate explained, “I dare not imitate the magistrate’s sneezing. Nine li away from the county is a temple called the Temple of the Great King of Soapberry Forest. In front of the temple are two soapberry trees that have produced soapberries for many years. No one dares to touch them, as they’re already worn to dust. In the past, when new officials arrived, they would first go to offer incense before handling official matters. Today, the assistant magistrate didn’t offer incense. The spirit of the great king, being sacred, blew the dust from those trees here. When everyone smelled it, they all sneezed.” The magistrate said, “This is supernatural!” He then went to the temple of the great king to offer incense. Upon arriving at the temple, he dismounted from his horse. The temple priest led him inside, where he offered incense and bowed. The magistrate lifted the curtain to see how the shrine was arranged.

Wearing a hat adorned with gold filigree, dressed in a battle robe covered with flowers, tied with a blue jade belt, and clad in green embroidered boots. His face was that of a skull, from whose eyes two hands emerged—the left hand holding a halberd, the right hand forming a seal.

The county magistrate was shocked and asked the temple official, “What sacrifices are made during the spring and autumn festivals?” The temple official replied, “In spring, a seven-year-old boy is sacrificed; in autumn, a girl. The local authorities collect money to buy children from poor families. On the day of the sacrifice, they tie them up to pillars and cut open their abdomens to extract their hearts as an offering to the king.” The magistrate was furious and ordered his men to arrest the temple official and send him to jail for trial. “I have just taken office as the ruler of these people. How could I possibly harm anyone’s life?” He immediately ordered his men to destroy the clay statue of the god and set fire to the temple, turning it into bare ground. The group escorted the magistrate back to his horse. Suddenly, shouts were heard: “The king is coming! The king is coming!” When asked who this king was, his attendants replied, “It’s the King of Zaojiaolin.” Upon looking, the magistrate saw a path led by red silk, with a silver-mounted horse, and on it sat a ghostly king—its eyes like black beads, its mouth pointed several inches long, dressed just as described in the temple. The magistrate ordered arrows to be brought and shot one at it. Darkness covered the sky, thunder roared, hundred beams of golden light appeared, strong winds blew sand and stones, and the King of Zaojiaolin disappeared. People helped the magistrate back to the county office. The next day, he continued to handle government affairs as usual. The local elders submitted a petition asking to rebuild the temple for the King of Zaojiaolin. The magistrate, annoyed, drove them away. He said that Guangzhou had several types of miasma:

To speak of the scenery in Lingnan, one grows deeply worried at the mere mention.

Giant elephants roam in groups, python snakes swim in pairs,

Crows hide in dead trees, hiding in the sand by the riverbank,

In the wilds, monkeys cry out, stirring up old sorrows.

After burning down the temple of the King of Zaojiaolin, County Magistrate Zhao faced no more troubles. During his tenure, the roads were safe, dogs did not bark at night, and harvests were abundant.

Time flew by, and before he knew it, three years had passed. A new official took office, and County Magistrate Zhao left with his men for the capital. After traveling for several days, they were over two thousand li away from Xinhui County in Guangzhou. They arrived at an inn called Fengtou Inn. The magistrate went inside to rest. The innkeeper greeted him. By morning, when Zhao opened his eyes, his clothes and luggage were gone. He called for help, but no one responded. He called the innkeeper as well...

It shouldn’t be. The county magistrate got up, wrapped himself in a blanket, and opened the pavilion door to look—there was not a single person or horse in sight; not a soul anywhere around the inn. In a hurry, he stepped outside the inn and looked around:

“No travelers pass by here for years; clouds gather all day long.”

He thought, “Where have all the people gone? Could they have been robbed by bandits?” Wrapping himself in the blanket, he rushed down from the mountain inn as fast as he could. After walking several miles, there wasn’t a single household in sight. County Magistrate Zhao let out a deep sigh and thought to himself, “No, no! Born as a man by the Xiang River, I shall die as a ghost on the road.” In the distance, he saw a thatched hut. The magistrate said, “I’m ashamed!” When he reached the hut, he saw an old man and said, “Elder, I beg you—save me and restore my life!” The old man, seeing the magistrate wrapped in a blanket, asked, “Sir, why are you dressed like this?” The magistrate replied, “Elder, I am actually the county magistrate of Xinhuai County in Guangzhou. I came to this mountain inn to rest. By morning, all my servants and luggage had disappeared.” The old man said, “That’s no wonder!” Fortunately, the old man allowed the magistrate to enter, fetched some old clothes for him to change into, and prepared food and drink for him. After staying there for five or six days, the old man arranged funds to help the magistrate return to the capital city. The magistrate thanked him and left.

Traveling night and day, in just one day, he arrived at the capital. He went to the teahouse across the street and called out to the tea server, “Do you recognize me?” The woman replied, “Sir, you’ve returned disappointed.” Zhao Zaili said, “I am Zhao, the county magistrate from across the street. I went to the mountain inn to rest. When I woke up in the morning, all my servants and luggage were gone. A kind old man in the village gave me clothes and money to get here.” The woman said, “Sir, you’re mistaken! The county magistrate from across the street returned two months ago.” Zhao Zaili replied, “The one who returned first was fake; I’m the real one.” The woman asked, “How can there be two county magistrates?” He then asked her to call his mother over. When she took a closer look, she found that he indeed resembled the man who had returned before exactly. She went over and saw County Magistrate Zhao sitting at home. She bowed deeply, just as she would have done before. Going inside, she told his mother, “Another county magistrate has returned.” His mother replied, “Don’t talk nonsense! I only have one son—how could there be two county magistrates?” Zhao Zaili insisted, “I’m real! I went to the mountain inn, slept there overnight, and when I woke up, all my servants and luggage were gone. That’s how I ended up here.” Everyone present was stunned. Zhao Zaili rubbed his back and showed his mother a red mark there from birth. When she saw it, she exclaimed, “The one who returned first was fake!”

Meanwhile, County Magistrate Zhao from next door asked why there was such a commotion in front of his house. The servant replied, “Another county magistrate has returned.” Magistrate Zhao said, “Who dares to be so disrespectful! I’ve already returned—how can there be another Magistrate Zhao?” When he went outside, everyone scattered. The magistrate asked, “Mother, who is this man? Why is he holding my mother and being rude?” His mother said, “My son indeed has red marks on his body.” Magistrate Zhao also took off his clothes. Everyone exclaimed upon seeing red marks on his back as well. They said, “This is strange!” Magistrate Zhao sent Zhao Zaili to Kaifeng Prefecture. Just then, the chief judge was presiding over court. The earlier-returning Magistrate Zhao entered the prefecture openly, dressed in official attire, sat down alongside the chief judge, and began arguing. The chief judge, already convinced of his own correctness, scolded Zhao Zaili and tried several times to subject him to torture. Zhao Zaili stood firm in his innocence and loudly protested.

The chief judge hesitated repeatedly before suddenly realizing, “The complaint documents are genuine.” He asked Zhao Zaili, “If you’re telling the truth, where are those documents?” Zhao Zaili replied, “They disappeared at Fengtou Post Station.” The chief judge ordered his subordinates to bring the absent Magistrate Zhao. The governor asked, “County magistrate, do you have the complaint documents?” The magistrate said yes and had them brought from his mother. The chief judge said, “Zhao Zaili, if you’re telling the truth, why are the official documents elsewhere?” Zhao Zaili replied, “Your Excellency, they were lost at Fengtou Post Station. But ask him: in which year did he pass the exams? Who were his examiners? What were the questions asked? And why was he appointed as the county magistrate of Xinhui?” The chief judge thought it made sense. He questioned the fake Magistrate Zhao, and his answers matched Zhao Zaili’s exactly, with no discrepancies. Still, the chief judge couldn’t make up his mind. The fake Magistrate Zhao returned home and gave gold and jewels to the escort officials. As the saying goes, “Officials cannot accept bribes, but private dealings are allowed.” The escort officials accepted the gold and jewels from the fake magistrate and ordered the real one to leave Kaifeng Prefecture for Fengfu County in Yanzhou. Two escort officials, carrying clothes, umbrellas, and other supplies, escorted him on his journey. In less than a day, they traveled three or four hundred li, arriving at the foot of Qingyan Mountain, with no houses in sight either way. The officials said to Zhao Zaili, “Sir, let’s discuss this. If you go to the prison camp, you’ll still have to carry soil and water, and they’ll kill you. It’s better to commit suicide here. It’s not that we want to bear the blame—it’s an order from above; we have no choice. We’ll go to the local authorities to get approval. If you die early, we can return to the capital sooner.” Hearing this, Zhao Zaili lamented bitterly, “Enough! I’ll complain to the underworld after I die!” He trembled violently, eyes closed, waiting for the blows. The officials held their sticks, muttering, “It seems like going to the underworld—goodbye, earthly world.” Just as they raised their sticks to strike, someone shouted from behind, “The escort officials must not hit him!” Startled, they dropped their sticks. Looking around, they saw a child about six years old, wearing a gauze hat, a green shirt, a jade belt, clean shoes, and socks, standing before them. The officials asked, “Who are you?” The child replied, “I’m not human.” This frightened the two officials even more.

The official repeated his words earnestly. He then said, “He is indeed County Magistrate Zhao. How can we kill him? I’ll give you one silver ingot so that you can take him to Fengfu County. If you harm his life, neither of you will be able to return.” In a flash, the boy disappeared. The two turned to County Magistrate Zhao and said, “Don’t blame us; we didn’t know he was the real one! If you make it back to the capital, please don’t sign your name.” They arrived at the prison camp in Fengfu County, and the official arranged for County Magistrate Zhao to teach the two children, not assigning him any difficult tasks. Yet, having once sat in a courtroom, such work filled him with sorrow and made his days miserable. Unawarely, a year passed.

It was early spring, and they strolled leisurely in the garden. Seeing buds on the flowers and trees and birds singing and flying around, he thought about his career as an official—his ambitions now beyond reach. Yet, family members were separated, and mothers, sons, and spouses could no longer recognize each other. He wondered what sins he must have committed in a past life to suffer such punishment, struggling to make a living with no hope of improvement, and suddenly tears streamed down his face. Suddenly, he saw a pond and thought, “It’s better to drown myself in this pond and go straight to the underworld to seek justice.” With a sigh, he looked at the pond and jumped in. Just then, someone shouted, “Don’t drown!” Turning around, he saw a child wearing a gauze hat, a green shirt, and a jade belt, who said, “County Magistrate, under the left corridor, the Nine Sons and Mother Goddess has something for you to use to avenge yourself in the capital.” County Magistrate Zhao thanked him, asking, “Venerable deity, who is the impostor pretending to be me in the capital now?” The child replied, “It’s the King of Soapberry Forest in Guangzhou.” With that, he vanished in a gust of wind.

Eagerly awaiting the third day of the third month, he bid farewell to the official and went to Mount Dong Dai to offer incense. Upon reaching the temple, he looked under the left corridor and saw the Nine Sons and Mother Goddess. After bowing repeatedly, he stepped out of the temple when someone called, “County Magistrate Zhao!” Turning around, he saw a child with three horns, wearing a cloth vest, who said, “Walk half a mile through the fields, and you’ll see golden nails on red doors and blue tiles with carved beams. On the hall, there’s someone with hair tied in a bun, along with three or four children, who will say, ‘Your benefactor has arrived.’” How could they call County Magistrate Zhao their benefactor? When he was a magistrate in Guangzhou, he saved two servants in one year and several lives over three years—hence they called him their benefactor. The magistrate bowed below and pleaded. The deity ordered him to come up to the hall, saying, “Sit down; I’ll prepare some wine.” After drinking a few cups, he learned that it was the King of Soapberry Forest who had taken his family in the capital. How could the case be resolved? Considering his merit in saving boys and girls, I’ll use that to help you.” Then he told the third child, “Take this item.” The child held a yellow handkerchief wrapped around a box. Inside was a gold hairpin. The deity instructed the magistrate, “Go to a big tree by a large pond at the foot of that mountain. Tap the tree three times with the gold hairpin, and a spirit will surely appear on the water’s surface. Say you’ve been sent by the Nine Sons and Mother Goddess, and she’ll take you to the Dragon Palace’s treasure trove to get an item from the box, which you can use to destroy the King of Soapberry Forest in the capital.” The magistrate thanked the deity and returned to Mount Dong Dai.

At the foot of the mountain, he found the big tree by the pond and tapped it three times with the gold hairpin. In a flash, a spirit appeared on the water’s surface and asked, “Who are you?” He replied, “I’m here by order of the Nine Sons and Mother Goddess…”

“See Long Jun.” Night entered, and after a short while, came out again and told the county magistrate to close his eyes. All that could be heard was the sound of wind and rain.

Night ordered him to open his eyes. Looking ahead:

Soft, auspicious clouds enveloped the palace buildings, while thin mist covered the corridors. Night instructed the county magistrate to bring over the box.

The county magistrate untied the yellow bundle and handed the box to Night. Night opened the lid of the box and called out from the corner of the hall, “You evil creature, come here!” A certain object appeared, which he handed to the county magistrate to keep safely until they reached Dongjing to destroy the King of Soapberry Forest.

Night once again told him to close his eyes and led him into the water.

The county magistrate left Dongfeng and Dongdaishan and arrived at Fengfu County. Along the way, he pondered, “Should I go and ask the warden of the prison or not? I’m a criminal who was banished here; surely they won’t let me go. Staying here will ruin my plans, so it’s better to just keep going straight.” After passing Fengfu County, he took a boat along the Jinshuiyin Dike on the Bian River until he reached the front of Kaifeng Prefecture in Dongjing. There, he cried out loudly, “I am the real Zhao County Magistrate! Yet I was banished to Fengfu County in Yanzhou. The one who’s occupying my home now isn’t a human—it’s the King of Soapberry Forest from Xinhui County, Guangzhou!” People gathered around to see what was happening, and some officials captured him and brought him before the magistrate. The high official asked, “A criminal who was banished here dares to claim that I disrupted justice unjustly!” Zhao County Magistrate replied, “On the first day I took office as county magistrate in Xinhui County, I disrupted official business. Suddenly, I started sneezing, and everyone in the hall sneezed too. An attendant reported, ‘Nine li away from the county is a temple dedicated to the King of Soapberry Forest. In front of the temple are two soapberry trees that have been eaten away by insects over the years; no one dares to touch them. Since the county magistrate never offered incense, the king manifested and blew the soapberry dust, causing us to sneeze.’ I immediately prepared a horse to go to the temple and offer incense. There, I saw a strange figure in the shrine, with two hands emerging from its eyes. When I asked the temple priest what offerings were made during spring and autumn festivals, he said, ‘In spring, we offer a young man as an offering; in autumn, we offer a young girl. We take her heart from behind the general pillar and use it as an offering.’ I immediately sent the temple officials to jail to be punished, and I burned down the temple statues. On my way back, I heard someone shout, ‘The king is coming!’ Red silk illuminated the path. I shot another arrow, and after that, nothing happened. After three years of serving, I stopped at an inn on the way. It rained heavily, soaking everything from my headscarf down to my clothes; I couldn’t see anything. I had no choice but to walk under a blanket. Fortunately, an old man gave me clothes and money to get me to Dongjing. Unexpectedly, the high official sent me back to Fengfu County. So I went to Dongfeng and Dongdaishan, where I met the Nine Sons and Mother Goddess. I received an object in a box that could destroy the King of Soapberry Forest. If I were to invite that fake county magistrate here, I wouldn’t be able to destroy him, and I would accept punishment without complaint.” The high official said, “Open the box first and see what’s inside.” Zhao County Magistrate replied, “I can’t look. If I open it, it will kill that evil man.”

The high official ordered him to be taken aside and immediately summoned the fake county magistrate, who sat down in the hall. The high official said, “Someone has accused the county magistrate of being no human—actually, it’s the King of Soapberry Forest from Xinhui County, Guangzhou.” Upon hearing this, the fake county magistrate...

The post station was in an uproar. Someone asked, “Who said that?” The high official replied, “It was the real County Magistrate Zhao who went to Dongfeng Dongdaishan and met the Nine Sons and Mother Goddess who said it.” The fake county magistrate was terrified and tried to flee in haste. The real County Magistrate Zhao, who was downstairs, didn’t wait for the high official’s orders. He untied the yellow bundle and opened the box. Soon, wind and rain started, making it impossible to see anything. After a while, the clouds cleared and the wind died down, but the fake county magistrate was gone from the hall. The high official was so frightened that he could barely stand, and he had no choice but to report the matter to the emperor. Three imperial edicts were issued: first, the officials of Kaifeng Prefecture were ordered to investigate and stop the fraud; second, County Magistrate Zhao was reinstated after recognizing his mother and children; third, no one in Guangzhou was allowed to offer sacrifices to the gods.

When County Magistrate Zhao returned home, his mother and servants cried bitterly. “How do we know our son is really him?” They recalled the thirty-some people who had been questioned earlier and said, “Before dawn at the post station, we prepared everything for Laqiu Jiaoxiao—how could we know it was fake?” Everyone came to congratulate them and asked what was in the box. It turned out to be the King of the Soapberry Forest. County Magistrate Zhao said, “I don’t even know what it is. If it weren’t for the Nine Sons and Mother Goddess, our entire family would have been destroyed by that King of the Soapberry Forest. We must go to Dongfeng Dongdaishan to burn incense and express our gratitude.” He chose a day, took his mother and servants with him, boarded a boat on the Bian River, and traveled to Fengfu County in Yanzhou to thank the priest. When the priest learned it was the real County Magistrate Zhao, he praised him endlessly.

After staying there for a few days, they went to Dongfeng Dongdaishan. Upon entering the temple, they went straight to the left corridor to thank the Nine Sons and Mother Goddess. After burning incense and expressing their thanks, they left. His mother and servants went down the mountain first. County Magistrate Zhao took two servants and strolled behind the mountain, where they saw a strange rock with a jade staff sitting on it. Someone called out, “Zhao Zaili, how fortunate you are!” When County Magistrate Zhao stepped forward to identify it, it was indeed the Nine Sons and Mother Goddess. He immediately bowed in gratitude. The goddess said, “I already know about your prayer at the post station. What was in the box was a fox spirit from Dongfeng Dongdaishan. The King of the Soapberry Forest was a rat spirit. Only a fox can catch rats. You may go to the emperor and report this to showcase your abilities.” With that, she disappeared in a gust of wind. County Magistrate Zhao was shocked. He went down the mountain and told his mother and servants, expressing his endless gratitude. Eventually, he reported the matter to the emperor in the capital. At that time, Taoism was flourishing, and another imperial edict was issued ordering that temples dedicated to the Nine Sons and Mother Goddess be built in every prefecture and county. Some of these temples still exist today. As the poem goes:

Worldly affairs favor falsehood over truth;
Believing falsehood and doubting truth harms honest people.
If people could distinguish between false and true,
True deities wouldn’t need to be invoked.
Volume 37: Wan Xiuniang’s Revenge at Shanting Er

In spring, flowers bloom vividly, showing a beauty’s courage; in dark nights with strong winds, a hero’s heart shines.
With just a three-inch tongue, one can measure the depth and shallowness of the world.

It is said that in Xiangyang Prefecture of Shandong, it was once called the Eastern Route of Southern Mountains. In this city of Xiangyang Prefecture, there was a wealthy man surnamed Wan, known as Master Wan. He was the third son in his family and was called Sir Wan the Third. He lived in the heart of Xiangyang Prefecture, running a tea shop on one side and a tea workshop on the other. He had a tea expert in his household, surnamed Tao, nicknamed Tie Seng. Since childhood, he had worked in Master Wan’s house, growing up to be in his twenties—a native of the household. One day, after the tea market closed, Master Wan saw Tao Tie Seng holding forty or fifty coins in his hand. Master Wan said, “Let’s see what he does.” The tea expert’s trade jargon was called “traveling between prefectures.” For example, if he said, “Today I travel to Yuhang County,” he would earn only forty-five coins a day; Yuhang was forty-five li away. If he said, “I travel to Pingjiang Prefecture,” he would earn three hundred and sixty coins a day. And if he claimed to have traveled all the way to Chengdu Prefecture in Western Sichuan, how many li of land would that represent! Seeing this, Master Wan said, “Let’s watch what this guy does.” Tao Tie Seng quickly stuffed the forty or fifty coins into his bosom, glanced around to make sure no one was watching behind the curtain, then hid the money there.

Master Wan slowly lifted the curtain and stepped out, sitting down on a stool behind the counter. He watched as Tao Tie Seng reached into his bosom, pretending to search for something. Then he untied his belt, took out a cloth bundle, held its corners with both hands, shook it in the air, and patted his belly and waist, meaning to show Master Wan that he hadn’t stolen his money. Master Wan called Tao Tie Seng over and asked, “Just now I saw you holding forty or fifty coins. You glanced at behind the curtain and then hid them. Tell me the truth—money isn’t about profit or loss. I saw you take out the cloth bundle and shake it in the air; you really deceived me well! Where did you hide the money? Tell me, and I’ll spare you; if not, I’ll send you to court.” Tao Tie Seng kept his thumb firmly in front of his mouth and said, “Sir, I truly dare not hide anything. There are indeed forty or fifty coins, but I don’t know where they are.” The man pointed and said, “They’re hanging on that rusty iron piece!” Master Wan stood up on the stool and indeed found a coin there, with forty or fifty coins attached to it. Master Wan sat back down and asked Tao Tie Seng, “How many years have you been working in my house?” Tao Tie Seng replied, “Since I was young, I’ve been working here, cleaning teacups and trays for your family. After my master passed away, it was your kindness that allowed me to grow up. It’s been fourteen or fifteen years now.” Master Wan said, “If you steal fifty coins a day, five hundred in ten days, five hundred a month, eighteen hundred a year—over fifteen years, you’ve stolen two hundred and seventy thousand coins from me. Since I don’t want to send you to court, you’d better take some time off!” He then dismissed Tao Tie Seng. Tao Tie Seng bid farewell to Master Wan, packed up his belongings, and left his tea workshop.

Tao Tie Seng was a young man from a poor family. He couldn’t even manage to save a single coin, as whatever money he had in his pack was used up within ten days. Moreover, Master Wan made him work hard in all the tea workshops across Xiangyang Prefecture.

The temple – this Tao Tieseng has no agent, nowhere to beg for food. It was autumn at that time, and the ancients had a poem that said:

The lotus leaves wither one by one,
The parasol tree leaves fall in showers.
A light rain falls gently,
Accelerating the cold weather.

Crickets sing by the withered grass,
Geese land on the flat sands.

Only those who travel know this feeling.

Sometimes the wind rises, signaling autumn; sometimes the rain falls, marking autumn. At first, Tao Tieseng thought that since the wealthy man didn’t want him, there must be other agencies elsewhere. But he didn’t realize that the wealthy man had arranged everything so that he had nowhere to beg for food. He had only two pieces of clothing: one made of raw silk, which gradually became torn, and another made of yellow straw cloth, which also started to unravel. I remember a poem by Shen Er from Jiankang Prefecture, titled “Egret Sky”:

Yellow straw cloth is most unsuitable in deep autumn;
Worn-out sleeves and shoulders bring sorrow.
The collar is plain and old, already unraveling—
How can I withstand the golden winds, day or night?
As soon as I put it on, my brows furrow.
I’m ashamed to meet acquaintances when going out.
A neighborly woman asks softly, offering to lend me some fabric to patch it.

Tao Tieseng, seeing his yellow straw shirt unraveling and the wind blowing strongly, went back to Zhou Xinglao’s house. He thought to himself, “That wealthy man is truly cruel! Even if I were to give him thirty or fifty coins, he still wouldn’t let me go. As the saying goes, ‘No cat steals food.’ He arranged everything so that I couldn’t get a job in the tea shops of Xiangyang Prefecture, leaving me with no place to beg for food. How am I supposed to get through this autumn and winter? What should I do?” As he pondered, he saw a man and woman coming to Zhou Xinglao’s house and saying, “Old Zhou, may I borrow a carrying pole?” Zhou Xinglao asked, “What do you need the pole for?” The man replied, “Wan Xiuniang, the daughter of Wealthy Man Wan, has lost her husband and is returning home today. I need to borrow a pole to carry her belongings.” Tao Tieseng thought, “If I’m not driven away, I’ll definitely go with them to carry the pole; I might earn a hundred or so coins.” The more he thought about it, the more troubled he became, growing resentful toward the wealthy man. Tao Tieseng said, “I’ll leave the city for now and watch Wan Xiuniang return. I’m afraid I might meet her on the road, so I’ll talk to her. Maybe I can persuade her father to find me an agent again.” Tao Tieseng stepped outside and walked five li away.

Head held high, walking alone. His clothes were tattered and disheveled, taking slow steps one after another. As he walked thus, he heard someone calling from behind:

“Tie Seng, I’m calling you.” Turning to see who was calling, it turned out to be:

A man of imposing presence, like a demon king who could overturn the earth’s axis; with a majestic appearance, like a nightmarish general who could shake the heavens. Tie Seng bowed and said, “Why does my lord call for Tie Seng?” The lord replied, “I’ve been to your tea house several times to drink tea, but I never saw you there.” Tie Seng said, “My lord, that wealthy merchant is utterly unreasonable. He has been chasing Tie Seng for days. Even after chasing me like this, he still goes too far—now he’s even ordered that no tea house in Xiangyang Prefecture be allowed to deal with Tie Seng. Look, my clothes are all torn. With such a cold wind blowing, I don’t even know where to find food. If I don’t starve this autumn, I’ll surely die of cold this winter.” The lord asked, “Where are you going now?” Tie Seng replied, “Today I heard that that wealthy merchant’s daughter, Wan Xiuniang, has lost her husband. She’s bringing along a room full of valuables, worth tens of thousands of coins. She’ll be returning tonight. I plan to stop Miss Wan and tell her what’s going on.” Hearing this, the lord said:

“It’s easy to capture a tiger in the mountains, but hard to speak up and tell others.”

The lord said, “A true man, why tell her? Instead of telling her, why not confess yourself?” Then he pointed to a place and told Tie Seng, “This isn’t the right place to talk. Come with me.” The two left the main road after five miles and took a smaller path. They came upon a small, quiet farmhouse. This farmhouse:

Had a path in front leading to a dead end, and a hill behind suitable for killing people. From afar, it looked dark and eerie; up close, it made one’s heart sink with fear. It seemed unlikely to be a place like Meng Chang’s household—it was probably only used for killing and setting fires.

The lord saw that the door of the farmhouse was closed. Without knocking, he picked up a brick from the ground and threw it against the roof. In a moment, he heard noises inside as the door was opened, and a tall man stepped out. This man had his cheeks puffed out and his mouth curled, with six large characters tattooed on his face. For some reason, people called him “Big Character Jiao Ji.” He came out and greeted the lord, then pointed at Tie Seng and asked, “Who is this strange man?” The lord replied, “He went to his aunt’s house today and reported back to me—that it was a good deal worth a punch.” All three entered Big Character Jiao Ji’s home. The lord took out some silver coins and asked Jiao Ji to buy some wine and meat for them to eat. After eating, Tie Seng went to gather information and returned to report, “Let my lord know—there are about twenty loads of goods now, all taken to the city. Only Wan Xiuniang, the daughter of that wealthy merchant, and her…”

The merchant, a guard named Zhou Ji, and a basket full of valuables such as gold, silver, and other precious items—three people in total, along with two horses. They were to arrive at this place five li away before dusk and enter the city. Upon hearing this, the nobleman ordered the three men to take their swords and said, “Tie Seng, come with me.” They went to wait in front of the forest five li away.

Indeed, around dusk, Wan Xiao Yuanwai, Wan Xiuniang, the guard Zhou Ji, and the two horsemen—five people in total—were about to enter the city. When they reached the forest five li away, they saw a forest that appeared:

From afar, it seemed like a jagged peak; up close, it looked like hanging raindrops. Its shadows swayed thousands of feet high, as if dragons and snakes were moving, and its sound shook the sky, bringing cold winds and rain.

Just as the five people arrived at the edge of the forest, they heard a loud shout from inside: “The three hundred brave men of Zijin Mountain haven’t emerged yet! I’m afraid something will happen to Master Wan and Miss Wan!” The three brave men, armed with their swords, terrified the five people, leaving them in great fear. The two horsemen fled, leaving only Wan Xiuniang, Wan Xiao Yuanwai, and the guard Zhou Ji. The burly man said, “I won’t kill you, but you’ll have to pay me a ransom to leave!” Wan Xiao Yuanwai told Zhou Ji to give him the money. Zhou Ji handed over a bar of silver worth twenty-five taels. Seeing this, Jiao Ji said, “This guy isn’t worth much! We’ll just take one bar of silver from him!” He picked up his sword and prepared to attack Zhou Ji. Wan Xiao Yuanwai and Wan Xiuniang said, “If you really want it, just take it.” Jiao Ji carried the basket and was about to enter the forest when Wan Xiao Yuanwai shouted, “Tie Seng, it’s you who’s here to rob me!” This scared Jiao Ji, who dropped the basket and said, “That won’t work! If I let them go, tomorrow they’ll report to the authorities in Xiangyang and arrest Tie Seng. What will I do then?” He rushed over, raised his sword, and said, “Die!” Looking at Wan Xiao Yuanwai:

His body was like willow fluff drifting in the wind, his life like lotus thread about to break.

Jiao Ji killed Wan Xiao Yuanwai and the guard Zhou Ji with a single swing of his sword, dragged their corpses into the forest, and took the basket with him. Tao Tie Seng led Wan Xiao Yuanwai’s horse, while the nobleman led Wan Xiuniang’s horse. Wan Xiuniang pleaded, “Please spare my life, brave sir!” That night, they all went to Jiao Ji’s house. They broke into the tavern, bought some wine and food, and ate. They divided the gold, silver, and valuables in the basket into three parts: Tao Tie Seng got one part, Jiao Ji got one part, and the nobleman got one part. The nobleman said, “Now that everything has been divided, I still want Wan Xiuniang. I’ll keep her as my own.”

“Madam of the Fort.” Thus, only Wan Xiuniang was left at Jiao Ji Zhuang. Unable to bear being separated from him, she brought over sweet words and flattering speech.

After staying at Jiao Ji Zhuang for a day or so, this wealthy man spent his time either robbing gold and silver when out or drinking and eating meat when at home. One day, he got thoroughly drunk, to the extent that:

Three cups of wine pierced his heart, while two peach blossoms appeared on his face.

Wan Xiuniang asked, “You call him ‘the wealthy man’ today and again tomorrow. After all, you must be my husband now. Even dogs and horses have distinct fur colors—how can a human not have a name? May I ask what your surname and given name are?” The wealthy man, still in high spirits, pointed to something on his body and said, “Yes. I am a hero from Xiangyang Prefecture. If you don’t recognize me, let me tell you: three souls have left my body, and seven spirits have scattered beneath my feet!” He lifted up the red characters embroidered between his legs and said, “This is my name. I go by the name Shi Tiao Long Miao Zhong. Let me tell you.” It turned out to be:

“There are ears on the wall—surely there are people outside the window.”

Jiao Ji, who was listening outside the window, said, “Look, my brother Miao the wealthy man—why bother telling him his name?” He came in and said, “Brother, you’d better get rid of this scoundrel!” In the slang of violent people, killing someone was called “getting rid of a scoundrel.” Jiao Ji wanted Shi Tiao Long Miao Zhong to kill Wan Xiuniang, thinking:

“Cut off the roots so the sprouts won’t grow again; if the roots aren’t cut, the sprouts will emerge once spring comes.”

But Miao Zhong wouldn’t listen to Jiao Ji. He said to Jiao Ji, “We’ll split the money and goods equally. I only have this one item, which is worth more than yours. Yet you can’t stand it and still want to harm her. I just want her to be the madam of the fort—what’s the harm in that?” Jiao Ji replied, “Someday, this woman might turn out to be a problem, yet she won’t harm me!”

One day, when Miao Zhong left the house, Jiao Ji said, “I’ve told my brother many times to get rid of this scoundrel, but he refuses. Just like you refuse today and will refuse tomorrow, why not let me do it myself to avoid future troubles?” Jiao Ji carried a sharp, long dagger with a thick back and thin blade, shaped like an eight-character symbol, hidden in its sheath. He entered the room. Wan Xiuniang was sitting there. She saw Jiao Ji draw out the dagger, hold it in his hand, grab Wan Xiuniang with his left hand, and raise the knife, ready to strike. Just then, someone grabbed his wrist from behind and said, “You really intend to cause harm…”

“He doesn’t even look at me!” When Jiao Ji turned around, it was Miao Zhong. Miao Zhong said, “Just make him leave your estate—why go to such lengths to harm him?” Hearing this, Jiao Ji gave up. By then, dusk had fallen:

The red sun sank in the west, while the jade rabbit appeared in the east. The beautiful lady returned to her room with a candle, and the fisherman by the river stopped fishing. Fireflies lit up the green grass, and the moonlight pierced through the blue clouds.

Around the first watch of the night, Miao Zhong said, “Young lady, this isn’t a safe place for you. They’ll surely try to harm you whenever they see you.” Wan Xiuniang replied, “My lord, how can you do this now?” Miao Zhong said, “It’s simple.” He carried Wan Xiuniang on his back and walked all night. As dawn approached, they arrived at an estate. Miao Zhong set Wan Xiuniang down, knocked on the gate, and someone inside replied, “I’m coming.” Soon, a servant came out. Miao Zhong said, “Tell the master that Lord Miao is at the gate.” The servant went in to inform the master. A man from the estate came out. How was he dressed? Let’s take a look:

He wore a brick-colored headband tied at the back, a blue silk robe with floral patterns, trousers tied at the waist, and fine silk shoes on his feet.

After exchanging greetings, they took Wan Xiuniang to a thatched cottage, where the three sat down as host and guests. Miao Zhong said, “I’m sorry to trouble you, but it’s not appropriate to keep this person here in the estate.” The man replied, “It’s fine to keep her here.” Miao Zhong drank a few bowls of wine with the man and had some breakfast before leaving. The man invited Wan Xiuniang to the study and told her, “Do you know one more thing? Lord Miao has sold you to my household.” Hearing this, Wan Xiuniang burst into tears. There’s a poem titled “Eaglet Sky” that goes:

Like pearls scattered one by one, her face is as clear as autumn dew. Wherever she appears, the bamboo by the Xiang River seems to wilt; wherever she feels sorrow, cities miles away crumble. She pities those who are ungrateful, remembers those who are affectionate—her delicate fingers play music that steals hearts. Sometimes, when she looks at the sea, endless new marks cover the old ones.

Wan Xiuniang cried silently, thinking to herself, “That wretch Miao Zhong! He stole my money and valuables, killed my brother, murdered Zhou Ji who was on duty, deceived me, and sold me here! How am I supposed to survive?” A few days passed. That night, the sky was dark and gloomy, with no moonlight. Everyone went to bed.

Wan Xiuniang stepped out through that door and came into the garden. She looked up at the sky and prayed, “My father, Master Wan, you are usually unreasonable. Now you’ve made me suffer such punishment. You wretched thief Miao Zhong! You stole my money and belongings, killed my brother, killed Zhou Ji who was on duty with me, deceived me, and then sold me here!” She untied her apron, threw it at a large mulberry tree, and said, “The spirit of my brother, Master Wan, is not far away. Zhou Ji, who was on duty with me, wait for me at the gates of the underworld. Born in Xiangyang Prefecture, I shall become a ghost in Xiangyang Prefecture.”

She was about to hang herself using her apron when suddenly, from behind a rock in the darkness, a tall man appeared, holding a simple sword. He stepped forward and pointed at Wan Xiuniang, saying, “Don’t make a sound! I heard everything you said. Don’t try to seek death now. I’ll save you. How about that?” Wan Xiuniang replied, “That would be great. May I ask your name, brave sir?” The man said, “My surname is Yin, and my name is Zong. I have an 80-year-old mother at home. I’ve always been filial to her, so people call me ‘Filial and Righteous Yin Zong.’ I came here hoping to steal something to sell and support my old mother. But today I happened to encounter you. It’s just ‘seeing injustice and stepping in to help.’ I’ll save you. There’s nothing else—don’t panic.” He carried Wan Xiuniang to the base of the garden wall, gave it a strong push, and she climbed onto the top of the wall. Yin Zong used his sword to jump over the wall and catch Wan Xiuniang as she descended. After carrying her on his back, they were about to leave when suddenly a spear tip could be seen in the darkness. A shout went up, “Target!” The spear was thrust toward Yin Zong’s chest with a loud thud. The man was a patrol guard outside the garden wall. Seeing a tall man with a simple sword jump over the wall, carrying a woman on his back, and someone thrusting a spear at him, Yin Zong dodged to the side, causing the spear to hit the wall, with its tip stuck there. Yin Zong continued walking, still carrying Wan Xiuniang and holding his sword.

They eventually arrived at Yin Zong’s home. Along the way, Yin Zong told Wan Xiuniang, “My mother is very shy and doesn’t allow outsiders in. When you get to my house, be sure to tell her everything that happened.” Wan Xiuniang agreed. When they reached the house, Yin Zong’s mother heard, “My son has returned!” She opened the door and rushed to greet her son, delighted that her only son had brought back something stolen. But when she saw a woman on his back, she asked, “I told you to steal something to support me in my old age. Why do you come back with this woman instead?” Yin Zong received three or four blows with a stick but didn’t dare tell his mother what really happened. Seeing the old woman beating her son, Wan Xiuniang became afraid. Yin Zong put Wan Xiuniang down and had her pay respects to his mother. He then explained what had happened, asking, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Yin Zong asked his mother, “What should I do now? I need to send her back.” His mother asked, “Why do you want to send her back now?” Yin Zong replied, “On the way, it seemed like she was…”

Sister, when we leave the inn, just call me brother and sister.” The mother-in-law said, “Let me teach you first.” She immediately went into the room to fetch something. The mother-in-law brought out an old red padded vest with many patches on it and put it on Wanxiu Niang. Pointing at Yin Zong, she said, “When you see this vest of mine, think of me as your mother. On the road, don’t act recklessly or seduce this woman.” Wanxiu Niang bid farewell to her mother-in-law. Yin Zong carried Wanxiu Niang on his back and set off on their journey toward Xiangyang Prefecture.

That day, as dusk fell, they came across an inn. The sisters left the inn and asked for some food. Wanxiu Niang slept in the bed inside the inn, while Yin Zong slept on the floor in front of the bed. Around the third watch of the night, Wanxiu Niang couldn’t sleep. She thought to herself, “Thanks to Yin Zong saving me, he’s like my new parents. I should marry him and be his wife to repay him.” Wanxiu Niang got up from the bed slowly and gently woke Yin Zong, saying, “Brother, I have a few words to say to you.” Grateful for his rescue, she picked up a simple knife and said, “You must not act recklessly—what are your intentions?” Seeing this, Yin Zong became anxious. Wanxiu Niang thought, “If I get home, I’ll definitely marry him. Yin Zong surely won’t act rashly. He’s such a filial person who follows his mother’s advice and won’t act improperly.” Seeing his anxiety, she changed the subject and said, “Brother, once we reach Xiangyang Prefecture, I’m afraid you won’t want to see my parents.” Yin Zong replied, “It’s fine now. When we arrive in Xiangyang Prefecture city, I’ll go back, and you can go back as well.” The next day, Yin Zong carried Wanxiu Niang on his back as they approached Xiangyang Prefecture, where there was about five or seven li of farmland. It was truly as the poem says:

From afar, the city tower is not far away; with the wind, music can be heard.

Looking ahead, Xiangyang Prefecture appears; suddenly, a rainstorm breaks out.

Clouds rise in the northeast, mist surges in the southwest. In moments, it pours like water from an overturned jar; in an instant, it’s like a river flowing into the sea.

The rain kept falling nonstop, and there was nowhere to take shelter. Yin Zong carried Wanxiu Niang along the road and saw a farmhouse, thinking they could take shelter there from the rain. But because of going to this farmhouse, the two of them were transformed into:

Those who once had paths to success now became people in misery; those whose bones had no graves turned into lost ghosts.

Yin Zong was like pushing a cart full of boneless remains into a bottomless glass well. That farmhouse belonged to Jiao Ji. When Wanxiu Niang saw Jiao Ji’s farmhouse, she was stunned and didn’t know what to do. Jiao Ji, upon seeing Wanxiu Niang, didn’t dare ask questions and hesitated. Then a man, about eight parts drunk, carrying a simple knife, came from outside. Wanxiu Niang said, “Brother, this is surely the end of my ten...”

“Miao Zhong!” Hearing this, Yin Zong picked up his simple sword and rushed at Miao Zhong. At that moment, Miao Zhong met Yin Zong with his own simple sword. There were three reasons why Yin Zong couldn’t overcome Miao Zhong: first, Miao Zhong was drunk; second, Miao Zhong lacked determination while Yin Zong was determined; third, Miao Zhong, being a thief, felt guilty. Realizing he couldn’t defeat Yin Zong, Miao Zhong picked up his sword and fled. Yin Zong pursued him, but after walking a mile, Miao Zhong encountered a wall and jumped over it. Yin Zong kept chasing, not realizing that Jiao Ji also had a simple sword and was behind him, ready to kill Yin Zong. As the saying goes:

“The mantis meets its predator—how could it expect an ambush by someone with a gun! How could one person withstand two?” Before long, Jiao Ji was ahead and Miao Zhong behind; both returned. Miao Zhong put down his sword, switched to a sharp, long-bladed knife with a thick back and thin edge, and with his left hand grabbed Wan Xiuniang’s clothes, cursing, “You wretched woman! If not for you, I wouldn’t have been nearly killed by this big man. Let me give you a few cuts!” It was as if:

“He used his skill to break flowers, aiming to snap the first branch of the plum tree.”

Seeing Miao Zhong raise his sword, Wan Xiuniang came up with a quick plan. With one hand, she held Miao Zhong’s wrist and said, “Stop! Don’t you know what you’re doing? You don’t even know this big man’s name or who he is, nor do you know what kind of person he is. Without asking why, you took me here against my will. I recognized this place as Jiao Ji’s estate, so I deliberately led him here to find you. Now you’ve ruined me—what a mistake!” Miao Zhong said, “You’re right.” He sheathed his sword and then tried to strike her. Wan Xiuniang said, “I almost ruined you by mistake!” As she spoke, she used her left hand to hold Miao Zhong and her right hand to deliver a powerful palm strike, making it seem like thunder struck Miao Zhong’s ear. Miao Zhong:

“Opened his eyes wide and crushed his teeth!”

Angry, Miao Zhong saw Wan Xiuniang say, “You thief Miao Zhong! I have an 80-year-old mother at home. If you and Jiao Ji ruin my life, then you too should die!” With that, she suddenly collapsed to the ground. Miao Zhong then realized it was Yin Zong possessing Wan Xiuniang. He immediately helped her up and got her to recover. There was nothing more to say at that moment.

As for Wan Yuanwai, he learned that his son Wan Xiaoyuanwai and Zhou Ji had been killed. Their bodies were found in a forest five miles outside the city, and more than ten thousand strings of cash had been stolen. Wan Xiuniang was unaware of this.

A decline. He went to Xiangyang Prefecture City and submitted a petition, offering a reward of a thousand guan to capture and kill those robbers, and they were caught there. Lord Wan provided another thousand guan on his own. A few months passed with no one captured. The reward from the prefecture plus Lord Wan’s reward made three thousand guan in total, and notices were posted publicly calling for the capture of these thieves, yet still no one was caught. That day, one of Lord Wan’s neighbors, an old man in his seventies, had a son named Hege. Fearing for his life, he said, “Hege, you’re just lazy and make no progress. Today, you’d better go and sell some ‘mountain pavilions’.” Hege carried two clay bags, containing about two or three hundred coins, and went to Jiao Ji’s village, asking Jiao Ji if he could buy some “mountain pavilions” and other items. These items were called mountain pavilions, temples, pagodas, stone bridges, screens, and figures. After buying a few pieces, Hege asked for more “mountain pavilions” of good quality. Jiao Ji said, “Go and pick some by yourself outside the window at the corner of the house.” Hege stepped outside the window to pick some “mountain pavilions” when he heard someone inside the window call softly, “Hege.” Hege thought, “That voice sounds like Lord Wan’s daughter’s.” Hege asked, “Who’s calling me?” The voice replied, “It’s Wan Xiuniang.” Hege said, “Young lady, how did you end up here?” Wan Xiuniang said, “It’s hard to explain. Tao Tieseng and his men captured me and brought me here. Please go back and tell my parents to submit a petition and send people to capture that Jiao Ji and Tao Tieseng.” Then she took a embroidered pouch from her body, threw it out of the window, and left. Hege caught it and tucked it around his waist. He returned the money for the “mountain pavilions” to Jiao Ji and continued on his way with his load. Jiao Ji asked, “Who were you talking to by the window?” Hege replied with a response like: “Separate the eight sides of the sunbone, pour half a bucket of ice-cold water.” Hege put down the load of “mountain pavilions” and looked at Jiao Ji, asking, “What did you see that makes you think I was talking to someone?” Jiao Ji peeked inside the window but saw no one there. He picked up his load and left, not stopping until he reached the city. There he dumped all the “mountain pavilions” into the river and returned empty-handed. When his master saw him return empty-handed, he asked, “Where are the ‘mountain pavilions’?” Hege replied, “They’re in the river.” The master asked, “What about the load?” Hege replied, “It’s in the river too.” “And the basket?” Hege replied, “It’s in the river as well.” The master became furious and said, “Kill this scoundrel! What’s your intention?” Hege said, “There’s a reward of three thousand guan waiting for us.” The master asked, “How so?” Hege replied, “I saw Wan Xiuniang, Lord Wan’s daughter, in a certain place.” The master said, “Don’t talk nonsense!”

“Is he there?” He Ge took out the embroidered incense burner from his arms and showed it to them, then went with them to Wan Yuanwai’s house. When Wan Yuanwai saw the incense burner, he called for his mother. Upon seeing the embroidered details, she recognized it as truly Xiu Niang’s work, and the whole family began to cry. Wan Yuanwai said, “Stop crying for now. Let’s go to the prefecture with He Ge right away and file a complaint. As soon as the officials heard about it, they sent over more than twenty soldiers, each equipped with weapons, to capture him. He Ge was then led by those soldiers to Miao Zhong’s estate, where they immediately issued an order in the government office. After that, they set off on their journey. Truly:

Each one is fierce as a tiger, every man as mighty as a dragon.
Wearing rain gear and straw sandals, carrying weapons on their shoulders,
With ox-head clubs, crossbows, rat-tail knives, skin-painting bows, and willow-leaf arrows.
Hungry and thirsty along the way, traveling day and night.
Just past Apricot Flower Village, then passing Fragrant Grass Ferry.
Like sooty eagles chasing purple swallows, just like tigers pursuing yellow sheep.

By then, He Ge and his group had arrived at Miao Zhong’s estate. They ordered their men to capture him, saying, “Wait, let me go scout first.” After a long time, He Ge didn’t return, so the men discussed, “Surely Miao Zhong knows about this and has fled.” He Ge returned and whispered to them, “Let’s devise a plan to lure him out; then he’ll come out.” They searched around Miao Zhong’s estate but found no trace of him. The officials said, “Miao Zhong usually treated He Ge like a parent. What’s going on this time?” Without further discussion, they decided to send someone to set fire to Miao Zhong’s estate, so they could find out where he was hiding. When Miao Zhong saw the soldiers setting fire to his estate, he grabbed a knife and ran westward. The officials chased after him. Truly:

Like sooty eagles chasing trapped geese, just like crows attacking cold geese.
The ten dragons-like men fled in panic until they reached a forest, where Miao Zhong entered. After walking just over ten steps, he saw a huge man covered in blood, holding a knife, waiting for him in the forest—that was Yin Zong, who would later take his life. As the saying goes:

Don’t create enmity while trying to escape; it’s hard to avoid meeting on a narrow road.
Miao Zhong recognized Yin Zong and tried to move on, but Yin Zong blocked his path. Left with no way out, the officials caught up from behind, tied Miao Zhong along with Da Zi Jiao Ji and Tea Doctor Tao Tieseng, and brought them to Xiangyang Prefecture, where they were taken to the judicial court. After thorough interrogation, all three confessed. On the same day, Da Zi Jiao Ji, the ten dragons-like Miao Zhong, and Tea Doctor Tao Tieseng were taken to the market square and executed according to the law. He Ge received a reward of three thousand strings of coins. Wan Yuanwai wanted to repay Yin Zong, so he sent people to bring his mother home to be taken care of. He also filed a formal complaint with the authorities.

With money, a temple was built in honor of Yin Zong five li outside Xiangyang Prefecture City. To this day, the Xiaoyi Temple five li outside Xiangyang Prefecture City is dedicated to Yin Zong; its ancient relics still exist, and incense burns continuously. It is known simply as “Shanting Er,” or also as “The Deeds of the Filial and Righteous Yin Zong, the Ten-Dragon Tao Tie Monk.” Later generations praised it thus:

Wan Yuanwai’s actions brought disaster; Tao Tie Monk committed extreme violence.
Xiu Niang endured to avenge her husband; Yin Zong became a godly figure through his filial piety. Volume 38: Jiang Shuzhen’s Self-Sacrifice and the Swans’ Reunion

My longing eyes and heart never cease to yearn; in secret, I plan to meet on the tower.
Time prevents us from being together; my emotions tie me, leaving me freeless.
On lonely nights, I long for the scent covering my knees; in distress, I scratch my head like Yu.
Cherry and peach blossoms fade while pear blossoms bloom—my heart breaks with sorrow in two places.

This poem speaks solely of “emotion and desire.” These two terms are inseparable—one manifests in the eyes, while emotion resides in the heart; emotion and desire arise together, with the eyes and heart connected. From ancient times to the present, virtuous people have never forgotten this. A person from the Jin dynasty said, “What matters most is emotion.” Huiyuan said, “Emotion and desire are like magnets; when they encounter each other, they naturally become one. Even inanimate things act this way, let alone those who live entirely in emotions?”

Now, what about discussing these two terms, “emotion and desire”? Let’s talk about the deeds of Lord Wu of Linhuai. During the Xiantong era, he served as an assistant official in Henan Prefecture. His beloved concubine was named Feiyan, surnamed Bu. She was extremely beautiful, so delicate that delicate fabrics barely could hold her. She was skilled in Qin music and loved poetry and writing. Lord Wu doted on her greatly. Next door lived the Zhao family from Tianshui, also a noble family. Their son, Zhao Xiang, was handsome and talented in literature. One day, he spied Feiyan through a gap in the southern wall; he was utterly captivated and lost his appetite, thinking only of her. He then bribed Lord Wu’s maid to convey his feelings to her. The maid was reluctant at first but eventually agreed after being bribed, and asked Feiyan when she was alone to convey Zhao Xiang’s intentions. When Feiyan heard this, she merely smiled without responding. The maid told Zhao Xiang everything. He became frantic and didn’t know what to do. So he took Xue Tao’s notebook and wrote a poem on it. The poem read:

Green fades and reds grow sparse as dusk smoke rises;
Alone, I bear my hidden sorrow in the small courtyard.
Who can I speak to on this deep night?
Stars are separated by the Milky Way, moon half in the sky.

After writing it, he sealed it tightly and asked the maid to give it to Feiyan. After reading it, Feiyan sighed for a long time before saying to the maid, “I too have seen Young Master Zhao; he is truly talented and handsome. In this life, I am unfortunate enough to not be able to be with him. I once resented Lord Wu…”

He is rough and uncultured; not fit for high pursuits.
Then he wrote another poem, on golden phoenix paper.

The poem reads:
“Spring swallows by the painted eaves must know their nest—
Would the mandarin ducks by the orchid pond fly alone?
I deeply regret those ladies in the Peach Blossom Land,
Who so casually see their lovers off among the flowers.”

Introduction
It was given to the old maid, instructing her to deliver it to Xiang. Xiang, overjoyed, said, “My wish is fulfilled!” He simply sat quietly, burning incense, praying devoutly for news. A few days later, as dusk approached, the old maid hurried over, smiling and bowing, “Does Young Master Zhao wish to see the immortal?” Xiang was shocked and asked repeatedly. Feiyan said through a messenger, “The official is on duty tonight—perfect timing. My household’s back garden is right in front of your house. If you keep your promise and await my arrival, we can meet.” After speaking, it grew dark. Xiang climbed up the ladder, and Feiyan had already prepared a large bed below. When he came down, he saw Feiyan dressed in gorgeous attire, leading him into the room where they spent time together affectionately. At dawn, Xiang took Feiyan’s hand and said, “To have such a beautiful woman and such a rare person by my side—now I can enjoy her forever, both in life and beyond.” With that, he left secretly. From then on, they met regularly in the back garden. They showed deep affection and poured out all their past feelings, believing that even ghosts and birds were unaware of their bond, as if gods and humans were helping them. This continued for a year.

Soon, Feiyan scolded her maid for trivial matters. The maid kept it to herself but later told Gongye everything. Gongye said, “Be careful not to speak out; I’ll investigate myself!” Later, on a day when he was on duty in the hall, he secretly requested leave. At night, as usual, he went on duty but hid near the back gate. Once the evening drums sounded, he slipped away and followed the wall to the back garden. He saw Feiyan leaning by the door, softly singing, while Xiang watched from behind the wall. Gongye, filled with anger, rushed forward to capture Xiang. Xiang jumped away. Gongye caught him and seized half of his shirt.

He entered the room and confronted Feiyan. Feiyan’s expression changed, but she did not confess the truth. Gongye grew even angrier, tied her to a pillar, and whipped her until blood flowed. Feiyan only said, “We were close in life; we’ll have no regrets in death!” Then she drank a cup of water and died. Xiang changed his clothes and name, fleeing far away to avoid further trouble. Alas, like clouds dispersing after rain and flowers withering under a waning moon…

Zhao Xiang knew how to act wisely, escaping from danger and avoiding harm—truly a man who knew how to repent. Yet now there’s another foolish young man who also engaged in an affair with a woman, indulging in pleasure day after day, until disaster struck, leaving him dead at the sword’s edge, sent to the underworld. His mother could no longer serve him, and his wife could not…

Oh, in winter’s harsh cold the son suffers, while the daughter weeps from hunger through endless days. Upon reflection, what could be the reason? Besides, hasn’t this woman already taken one life? Truly, delicate brows are like sharp blades, killing all the charming men in the world.

Singer, where do you think this woman lives? What is her surname and name? She originally came from a village outside Wulin Gate in Hangzhou Prefecture, Zhejiang Province. She was the daughter of a man surnamed Jiang, and her childhood name was Shuzhen.

She was extremely beautiful—her face resembled peach blossoms, neither too red nor too pale; her eyebrows were like willow leaves, even finer and more curved. From a young age she was clever and skillful, adept at drawing dragons and carving phoenixes, able to cut snow to shape clouds. Her heart was filled with thoughts of love and romance, and she also enjoyed drinking wine. When she reached marriageable age, her parents tried to arrange marriages for her, but none worked out. Often lost in her own desires, she felt sad that her prime years went unfulfilled, living in melancholy. She kept the curtains drawn, too ashamed to see swallows flying together; she lazily leaned against the high balcony, tired of hearing orioles singing. It remains unknown when this girl will find her match. Thus, I composed ten short poems in the style of “Vineggar Gourd” to recount her story. I present them to you, first to hear the rhythm, then the lyrics:

Deep autumn eyes, bright and clear,
Golden lotus in the dew,
Three inches of waist, slender as willows in the spring breeze—her grace surpasses even that of the most beautiful.
With such perfect features, even those accustomed to beauty would be captivated.

With such beauty and intelligence, why didn’t wealthy families, princes, scholars, or merchants seek her hand? Yet this girl had a peculiar temperament—she painted her brows and eyes, applied makeup, wore elaborate hairstyles, and acted in a pretentious manner. Sometimes she gazed thoughtfully from a railing, sometimes she smiled at passersby, which made the neighbors despise her.

Thus, time passed by unnoticed, and before she knew it, she was over twenty years old. Next door lived a boy named Aqiao, still young, who often came to play at her house. Unbeknownst to him, the girl had already harbored improper thoughts toward him. Since Aqiao wasn’t fully grown, his parents saw nothing strange in their frequent interactions. One day, when the girl’s parents were away, Aqiao happened to come by, and she lured him inside and forced herself on him.

Suddenly, there was a loud knocking at the door, and Aqiao fled in terror. The girl’s parents returned home unaware of what had happened. The girl’s desire burned fiercely; having long craved this, once her passion was kindled, she could control herself no longer. Aqiao returned home, overwhelmed with shock and died. Hearing of his death, the girl was devastated, though she dared not show it on her face.

I present these poems again to you, following the same melody:

The lock-shaped eyebrows, the lingering hatred, the deep pain in the heart—yet the person is gone. In an instant, like clouds and rain dispersing over Wuyang, since we parted, I’ve spent days in thought. All that remains is a day’s worth of memories; the only time I see my beloved is in dreams.

Since A Qiao’s death, this woman has been extremely unhappy. She thought to herself, “It’s all my fault—I cost him his youthful life.” She grew increasingly restless day by day. Soon another month passed. When she got up in the morning to dress, her parents noticed that her complexion and spirit were poor, and her speech was confused. The father said to his wife, “Could it be that Shuzhen has reappeared?” Unaware that their daughter’s beauty had faded, that her youthful charm was gone—her prime years wasted, her loveliness withered. The mother and father blamed each other for a while, fearing shame from relatives. As the saying goes, “A grown daughter should not be kept at home.” Keeping her at home was like holding private salt—only by letting her go could things be resolved; otherwise, when trouble arose, it would bring disgrace. After discussing this, the mother asked Wang’s sister-in-law to act as a matchmaker, suggesting they find a husband who was slightly lower in status to make up for the shortcomings.

One day, Wang’s sister-in-law came and said she could arrange a marriage to Li Erlang from a nearby village. Li Erlang was a farmer in his forties, interested only in beauty and not in anything else. After they married, they got along fairly well. In just over ten years, Li Erlang became exhausted from her constant demands. By his fifties, he had lost interest. But the woman was still in her prime, insatiable, and continued to have affairs with other men. When Li Erlang found out, he fell ill and died. The woman realized she had ruined two lives. She sang a song, continuing the theme: After ten years of marriage, there were three or four instances of passion. Disaster struck suddenly, and now things became even more difficult. The once harmonious couple was separated, and she stood by the railing, silently shedding tears.

Li Dalang dismissed those men and chose a day to bury his brother’s body. The woman had no choice but to observe mourning for three years. Her family knew she was guilty and kept a close eye on her. She herself also dared not act recklessly. Day and night, she suffered greatly—sometimes having a full meal, sometimes going without. Her family ignored her. After over a year, Li Dalang decided it was pointless to keep her; it was better to send her back to avoid bringing shame to the family. He called the matchmaker and sent her away, leaving her penniless. Like a bird freed from its cage or a fish out of the net, she didn’t care about her possessions anymore. When she returned home, her parents had no choice but to take her in. They treated her harshly, like a servant. Yet she endured it willingly.

One day, Zhang Erguan visited and was very attracted to her. He arranged for her to become his second wife. Her parents agreed, wishing they could just get rid of her. Zhang Erguan was a merchant who was often away from home, so they hadn’t learned much about him. They prepared a wedding feast, and she married him. It would have been better if she hadn’t gone—going there was like a pig or sheep heading to the slaughterhouse, stepping toward certain death.

That night, the candles cast a gentle glow, and the scent of powder filled the air. On the splendid banquet table, the two newlyweds sat as before; beneath the richly embroidered quilts, each brought out an old trinket. The singing companion continued to sing, echoing the previous tune: “Happy tonight, for the moon is full once more; we enjoy the beautiful gardens, with flowers in full bloom.” They walked hand in hand, laughing and enjoying each other’s company, as if drunk with joy. Unaware, they felt utterly content, as if mending their broken bond through love.

After that, day after day they sat side by side, and night after night they slept together, like fish in water or glue sticking together. One no longer remembered the affection of her former husband, while the other never thought of her late spouse. The wife envied her husband’s wealth, while he pitied her beauty. They lived like this for a month.

One day, Master Zhang got up early and ordered his servant to pack their belongings, as he intended to go to Deqing to settle accounts. How could the wife bear to let him go? Master Zhang had no choice but to leave, and the wife burst into tears. Master Zhang said, “Since we are husband and wife, there’s no need for this.” They parted with kind words of farewell. Half a month passed after their separation. Being alone for so long, and now having found a good match yet still unable to fully enjoy her happiness, she found it extremely difficult to cope with loneliness. Feeling tired, she went to the door to look outside. Across the street was a young man, around thirty years old, with a handsome appearance and graceful manners. She asked her servant A’man, who replied, “This shop belongs to Zhu Bingzhong. He’s a kind person; people call him ‘Younger Brother Zhu.’” After asking that, she didn’t even eat dinner and went upstairs to sleep. Outside the building was the official river, where boats were moored. Near midnight, she heard faint singing from a boatman. Listening carefully, she heard the song: “Twenty years passed, then twenty-one came; it’s foolish not to engage in secret affairs.”

“One day, when beauty fades, she waves her hands to her lover, but he doesn’t come.”

From then on, the woman once again grew covetous, often standing by the door alone. Zhu Bingzhong would sometimes come to tease her. They admired each other, exchanging glances and subtle signals, but couldn’t express their feelings openly. The singing companion continued to sing, echoing the previous tune: “She’s gentle and fair, with plump cheeks and shiny skin; her hair is long. He spent half his life in taverns, living a wild life, telling lies in front of others. He has no sense of honor or integrity—only knows how to steal and deceive.”

The woman envied Zhu Bingzhong greatly, though she never had the chance to be with him. One day, Master Zhang returned home after settling his accounts. The couple met and talked about the time they’d been apart. The wife seemed dissatisfied but forced herself to be polite, her heart entirely focused on Zhu Bingzhong. Master Zhang stayed at home for another month. It was winter, and he bought various goods to sell during the festival. He rented a boat to transport them, but sales weren’t satisfactory, so he ended up giving the goods on credit, unable to collect the old debts. As the New Year approached, he couldn’t return home for the holidays, so he sent some items ahead to cover expenses. That’s enough for now.

It is said that Zhu Bingzhong, seeing his husband absent, took the opportunity to visit this woman’s house to celebrate the festival. After drinking a few cups together, he intended to engage in some improper behavior. However, with so many people coming and going, they agreed to meet again under the lantern light. Bingzhong left after that. In no time, the thirteenth day, the night of the lantern festival, arrived. Then: drums and gongs rang in every household, and everyone played music on bamboo instruments and strings. Groups of visitors sang along, while ladies danced gracefully with their sleeves fluttering. The Turtle Mountain was adorned with colorful decorations, standing tall a hundred feet in the clear sky; the fragrance of phoenix incense filled the air, enveloping the paths in a delicate haze. Inside and outside the courtyards, the glow of precious candles shone brightly; high and low, the magnificent lanterns illuminated everything.

Let us sing again to accompany this scene:

The flute plays melodiously, lotuses bloom in the pond in profusion. The six streets and three markets are bustling with activity, laughter filling the city like an endless sea of spring. I look forward to meeting her by the lanterns, yet I fear she might suspect something.

That night, Bingzhong got dressed early and wandered around the streets. The woman also stood at her door, acting coyly. Both were secretly delighted upon meeting and decided to act immediately. Unexpectedly, her mother came to watch the lanterns and stopped by to check on her daughter. The daughter invited her in, and inevitably, she stayed overnight. Bingzhong returned home feeling frustrated in the middle of the night. The next night was the same. He ran into the woman again, who wondered why he had broken his promise. They tried to be intimate, but could only manage to form the shape of the character “Lü” before parting. Shortly after, she prepared wine for her mother. Seeing his lack of enthusiasm, her mother said to her daughter, “Now that you’ve moved to a better situation, you should behave properly and at least show some respect to your parents.” Little did she know that the woman had already spent two nights with Bingzhong. Wasn’t this like consulting the spirits? At dawn, she bought two boxes of cakes and hired a sedan chair to send her mother back. In the evening, Bingzhong sneaked into the woman’s house and went straight upstairs. Without even lighting a lamp, she undressed and embraced him, indulging in passionate love. But having been with several men in her life, young or old, she couldn’t match his skills. After that encounter, her body became soft and tender, and the pleasure was indescribable. Zhu Bingzhong, who was accustomed to dealing with women in brothels, knew well the ten essentials of seduction. What were these ten essentials?

First, be casual and unrestrained; second, don’t calculate time; third, use sweet words; fourth, be gentle and tender; fifth, coo and linger; sixth, use clever tactics; seventh, pretend to be deaf or mute; eighth, choose companions wisely; ninth, dress freshly; tenth, maintain harmony.

For a charming woman, none of these can be missing. Back to Bingzhong, who had returned, Zhang Erguan arrived again. The woman then felt a mix of longing and hesitation. All she wanted was to see him again. Let us sing again to accompany this scene:

As dusk falls, the horns sound, adding to the sadness, tears stream down. True love seems endless, yet this inner longing is hard to grasp. Unable to be together, painful thoughts torment my heart repeatedly.

This woman enjoyed herself from the eve of the festival right through to its peak, and then arranged to meet Bingzhong later that day, planning to rest together for several nights. Who would have thought that when Zhang Erguan came, she became troubled in her heart and fell ill—suffering from headaches, stomach pains, feverish bones, and chills. Zhang Erguan returned home to rest and enjoy himself, but upon seeing that this woman was unwell, he wore a mask of worry. He hired a doctor to treat her, had shamans perform rituals, tasted the medicines himself, and worked tirelessly without taking a break, suffering more than when he was outside.

Meanwhile, Bingzhong was restless, unable to sit still or stand still. He made an excuse to visit Zhang Erguan, saying, “I haven’t visited you for a long time. I heard you had returned yesterday, so I’ve come to pay my respects today. I invite you to my humble abode this afternoon for some chicken and wine as a small gesture to ease your worries. Please don’t refuse!” The next day, Zhang Erguan went to the gathering, and Bingzhong sent his wife and daughter to persuade him; after he got drunk, they helped him back home. After that, he kept coming often. When this woman heard that Bingzhong was there, she would talk, laugh, and feel no pain; but if he didn’t come, she would moan and cry, annoying the neighbors.

Zhang Erguan hoped she would recover, but her condition worsened day by day. While sick, whenever she closed her eyes, she saw Aqiao and Li Erlang coming to claim her life, their expressions growing increasingly fierce. Frightened, she couldn’t confess the truth and could only tell Zhang Erguan, “Please ask for me: ‘When will I be freed from this body?’” Following his advice, he went to Master Dongxu’s fortune-telling shop. The divination revealed, “This illness is very serious. There will be deaths among the young, old, and men—caused by past grievances, not from this life but from past lives. Tonight, prepare offerings of wine, fruits, and funeral clothes in equal amounts. Lay them out to the west during the time when the spirits cross the river, and plead earnestly—perhaps that will bring some relief. Otherwise, it won’t end well.” With the help of songs, she continued singing: “They mock me, complain at me; in a daze, I see them appear. My eyes are blurred from illness, my body weak—how can I resist their violent attacks? They say they’ll leave me alone, but when will these two enemies part?”

While Zhang Erguan was performing the rituals as instructed, this woman, still in bed, saw Aqiao and Li Erlang clapping their hands and saying, “We have complained to heaven, and it has been ordered that we come to take your life. You’ve asked your second husband, Zhang Erguan, to plead repeatedly with great piety. We’ll allow you to live until the midpoint, then, through someone else’s hands, we’ll meet you.” With that, they vanished suddenly. That night, she felt somewhat better, but soon her condition returned to normal. Zhang Erguan was overjoyed, but no further mention is made of this.

However, seeing Bingzhong visiting frequently and bringing gifts, she grew suspicious and still didn’t believe it. One day, Zhang Erguan went into the city to collect goods. When he returned home, he saw this woman sitting hand in hand with Bingzhong. Zhang Erguan stepped back and shouted, while Bingzhong stepped forward to greet him. Neither of them seemed aware that he was there. Seeing their sincerity at that moment, Zhang Erguan already had doubts—now, witnessing it firsthand, those doubts turned into certainty. He thought to himself, “If I get those two in my hands, I’ll make sure they die without even a place to bury them!” So he went to Deqing to make purchases.

Sold. By the time they arrived in Deqing, it was already the first day of May. They left their luggage at an inn and went out to buy a knife to hang around their waists. On the fourth day, they returned overnight and hid elsewhere, as is unnecessary to detail.

I, the wife, was eager to see him and went to pick up Bingzhong all day long. Bingzhong was sick at home. On the fifth day, A’man came again to invite him to a mandarin duck party. Bingzhong reluctantly agreed to go. On the upper floor, a feast with both land and sea delicacies had been prepared: two bowls of fried stonefish, two containers of roasted pheasants, wine mixed with calamus, and sugar-coated rice cakes. There were other dishes, fruits, and vegetables too many to list. The two of them drank heartily, ignoring everything else. With the help of singers, they sang again to the tune before: “The greenery is lush, the wine is full; the red flames glow, the candles are half-burnt.” In the courtyard, the moonlight mixed with the shadows of flowers, and they drank until they were completely drunk. The two of them indulged in pleasure and laughter, not realizing that someone was watching outside.

While they were drinking, Bingzhong suddenly felt his ears burning, his eyes twitching, and he became terrified. He bowed and asked to leave.

I, the wife, angrily said, “It’s strange I’ve been inviting you all day and you still don’t come. How dare you treat me so contemptuously! Do you think just because you have a wife, I have no husband? You don’t realize I’m the one who organized this mandarin duck party. These two birds fly together, sing together, eat together, and always stay by each other’s side; if we can’t be together in life, we’ll be together in death.” Once upon a time, Han Ping had a beautiful wife. The prince wanted to take her away, so the couple committed suicide. The prince regretted it and buried them together. Later, a tree with intertwined branches grew over their graves, with mandarin ducks perched on it, crying as they flew away. These two want to imitate those mandarin ducks, flying together closely—unfortunately, this becomes an omen of disaster. Moreover, I had just recovered from illness yet already engaged in unrestrained debauchery. Truly, “A thief’s nature never changes; a married woman never stops being lustful.”

Meanwhile, Zhang Erguan, holding a knife, sneaked up to the door and climbed a tree to eavesdrop. Hearing their playful singing clearly, he couldn’t contain his anger and threw a brick at them. I, the wife, blew out the lamp, silencing all sound. He threw three bricks in succession. I told Bingzhong to go to sleep first: “I’ll go check things out and be back soon.” A’man carried the candle and went first, opening the door—there was no one there. I called out, “Today is the Dragon Boat Festival; which family doesn’t drink some realgar wine?” Just as I was about to scold them, Zhang Erguan jumped down and shouted, “Wicked woman! With whom are you drinking at midnight?” I was terrified and could only stammer, “No, no, no!” Zhang Erguan then said, “Come with me upstairs and take a look. If nothing’s there, then fine. Why the panic?” I saw A’qiao and Li Erlang arrive as well, realizing I was doomed. Jing Bingzhong rushed out of bed naked, crawling and pleading, “I’m guilty! I’m guilty! I’m willing to give up all my possessions and my wife to atone for my sins. Have mercy on my elderly parents, young children, and weak wife!” But Zhang Erguan wouldn’t listen. In an instant, the knife sliced through their heads, and blood sprayed everywhere. Truly, “At that time, they didn’t understand that kindness turns into resentment; only now do they realize that lust is empty.”

When I was ill in bed, I had heard A Qiao and Li Erlang say, “Around the fifth day of the fifth month, someone who will meet you again will, through the help of a third party, reunite with you.” Indeed, on the fifth day of the fifth month, I was killed by Zhang Erguan. The “person who would meet me” was Bing Zhong. Before misfortune or fortune arrives, gods and spirits must know it first—how not to fear this! Thus, it is known that those who pride themselves on their talents lack virtue, while those who flaunt their beauty become unrestrained in emotion. If one can act with caution, as if standing on the edge of a deep pit, then they become upright scholars and virtuous women—how wonderful that is! I only wish that all people under heaven may live in harmony as husband and wife, with harmonious relationships like those between zither and lute, correcting mistakes when they arise and preventing them before they occur, upholding moral values—it’s never too late for this. Esteemed listeners, listen carefully to this tale of “The Swans Who Met Their End Together.” Let the singers accompany us once more with these words: Seeing the stone, guessing secretly, entering the door, the soul already frightened. Wherever the green blade passes, love perishes; even now, your heart still hasn’t let go. You’ve taken three lives—truly, karma reaps what it sows, for there are gods who see it all.

Another tune, “Nan Zi,” goes as follows:

In spring, the orioles cry in sorrow; jade fades, fragrance dissipates—how pitiful. A pair torn apart by violence, doomed by blades—so sad. Their souls mournfully descend to the netherworld. Why cling so desperately? Perhaps it was fate from a past life. The scenery remains the same, but the people are gone. Day after day, the ever-faithful moon continues to shine. Volume 39: The Three Stars of Fortune, Prosperity, and Longevity Guide the World.

If you wish to become an immortal, I’ll tell you what the wise know: eternal life is but a myth. Avoid greed for pleasure, and your body will remain healthy. If your heart is honest, you’re already an immortal.

These four lines speak of an official who spent twenty years studying hard by lamplight. Who would have thought that due to timing, fate, and destiny, he failed repeatedly in his exams, unable to become an official, yet destined instead to become an immortal? The third emperor of the Great Song Dynasty was Emperor Zhenzong. In the eighth month of the fourth year of Jingde, this official made a living by fishing. There are four ways to fish: those who use traps work upward, those who use gongs make noise, those who fish with rods remain quiet, and those who cast nets move about.

This official lived in a prefecture called Jiangzhou, part of the Dingjiang Army. East of Jiangzhou lies Jiujiang Gate; there’s a river there, locally called Yangjiang. The vast Yangtze River flows endlessly, connecting to the sea with thunderous force.

This river, clear and cool, protects the country—no need for troops or supplies.

On the night of the fourteenth day of the eighth month, this official set his fishing boat free, pushed it away with a pole, and went out into the river.

The moonlight shone on the water, illuminating everything above and below. The official picked up the net with his hands and cast it into the middle of the river. He cast it three times, but caught not a single fish. Suddenly, someone called out, “Liu Bendao, Liu Bendao! Why does a man of integrity not strive for glory, but instead give up on fishing?” The official was startled and called out the person’s name affectionately. After retrieving the net and looking around, he saw no one. He cast the net again, and someone called out once more; yet there was still no one in sight. After doing this three times, he didn’t fish that night and brought the boat to the shore. On the fifteenth night, he took the boat back to the middle of the river, and once again someone called out his name. Anxious, he set down the net and listened—the voice came from behind. When he went to check, the sound came from among the reeds. But when he searched inside the reeds, there was no one there. It was truly strange! He returned to the middle of the river and cast the net again. The net felt heavy, and when he retrieved it, he was both surprised and delighted—he had caught a red-tailed golden carp, about five feet long. He thanked heaven and earth, planning to take it to the city to sell it for food for a few days. He tied the boat to the shore, placed the carp under the deck, and kept it in fresh water. Just as he was about to go inside to undress and sleep, he felt hungry and thirsty. Checking the boat, he found nothing to quench his hunger or thirst. What could he do? After thinking back and forth, he remembered that there was a tavern owned by Zhang Dagong on the riverbank, where he could buy some wine. He took a gourd for holding wine from the boat and went ashore. Holding the oar in his left hand and the gourd in his right, he walked along the river under the moonlight. He wondered to himself, “I wonder if Zhang Dagong is asleep or not. If he’s awake, I’ll ask him to open the door and sell me some wine; if he’s asleep, I’ll have to endure hunger and thirst through the night.”

After walking for about half a mile away from the boat, he saw a cluster of houses. That must be Zhang Dagong’s house. When he reached his door, he saw no lights inside, though there were lights at Zhang Dagong’s house. How could that be? There was a poem titled “Xijiangyue” that described those lamp flowers: “They don’t wither because of spring rain, nor are they blown away by the east wind. They naturally turn red when they form into flowers—how hard can it be to cultivate them? Their flames can’t hide the pink butterflies, nor do their flowers attract bees.”

“They add splendor to the quiet study, having once accompanied a beauty in her spring dreams.”

Seeing lights at Zhang Dagong’s house, the official called out, “I’ve come to ask you for some wine. If you’re asleep, it’s okay; if not, could you sell me some?” Zhang Dagong replied, “I’m not asleep.” He opened the door, took the gourd from the official, asked how much wine was needed, went inside to fill it, and then said, “I have wine, but it’s cold.” The official told him, “I don’t have money tonight. I’ll repay you with the money from selling the fish tomorrow.” Zhang Dagong said, “That’s no problem.” Then he closed the door.

I carried my fishing pole and gourd as I walked. Hungry as I was, I had no time to think about the cold wine; I ate along the way, finishing two portions. When I reached the boat, under the bright moonlight, I saw a person wearing a round-headed, gauzy hat and a green silk robe with wide sleeves. Their height was less than three feet. They looked at me, covered their face, and cried loudly, “My descendants have all been captured by you!” Seeing this, I was greatly shocked. “There’s no such person by the riverbank—could it be a ghost?” I put down my gourd and used my fishing pole to strike at them, shouting, “Hit!” Upon striking, flames burst forth, followed by a loud noise. I stared closely, only to find no one there—almost becoming another ghost lost by the river, perishing in the waves. Here’s a poem to prove it:

Many admire immortals, wondering when they’ll be on Penglai Island.
In truth, the realm of immortals lies within the heart; listen to the song “Fisherman’s Pride.”
Few fishermen understand this truth; without guidance, who can comprehend it?
If you seek fish, where else but the Magpie Bridge, which leads to the path of immortals?

At that moment, I saw no one wearing the round-headed gauzy hat, the green silk robe with wide sleeves, or anyone less than three feet tall. No mystery here! When I reached the shore where the boat was tied, ready to get off, I cried out in distress, but no sound came back, and the boat was gone from the riverbank. “Who could have stolen my boat?” I looked across the river—complete silence; there were no boats in the area either. Where could I rest tonight? I thought, “No one stole my boat. I’ve never lost my boat while fishing before, yet now it’s gone! If it wasn’t someone from downstream who stole it, then it must have been someone from upstream.” I didn’t go downstream to look for the boat. I drank up all the wine in my gourd, left it on the riverbank, and walked along the shore. From the second watch until the third watch, I saw no boats anywhere. I wondered, “Where should I go tonight?” I wandered around, not knowing the way.

I came to a manor. I put down my fishing pole and glanced around—lights were visible inside the manor.

With nowhere to go, I wanted to call out, but I didn’t know anyone in this manor. Not calling out meant having no place to stay, so I called out, “Is anyone there? Please remember that I’m a fisherman who lost my boat and came here. It’s late, and I have nowhere to stay. I hope the master will allow me to spend the night here.” I heard a voice from inside the manor saying, “Come in. Please wait a moment.” It was a woman’s voice. The woman opened the gate, and I bowed my head in greeting. She returned the bow and invited me in, saying, “Please come in and stay for the night.” I thanked her, carried my fishing pole, and followed her inside. She closed the gate and led me to a thatched cottage. After asking my name, she kindly said, “I’m afraid you’re hungry. I’ll prepare some food and drink for you to satisfy your hunger. I wonder…”

“What?” Ben Dao asked, “Madam, thank you for finding me a place to stay for the night. I am deeply grateful for your kindness!” The woman replied, “It’s fine; there’s a place for you to rest.”

Before she could finish speaking, voices were heard outside calling, “Father! Father! I didn’t provoke him, yet he hit me! This man won’t go anywhere else—he must be coming to my estate to stay overnight.” When the door was opened, Ben Dao was shocked. “Madam, who is calling outside?” The woman said, “It’s my brother.” Ben Dao stepped aside and hid in the darkness while she went to open the door, greeting her brother with greetings of respect. The man called out, “Father! Father! Sister, close the door and come inside with me.” The woman closed the gate and invited her brother to sit in the thatched cottage.

Ben Dao watched the man in the cottage and cried out in despair, “My life is lost!” It was like pigs and sheep being led to the slaughterhouse, stepping toward certain death. As the poem goes: Abandoning the first wife to marry a second, the second wife never loves the first child. The first wife remains in grief after the second wife’s death—unresolved hatred lingers on.

Ben Dao recognized the man in the cottage as the one wearing a round silk hat, a green robe with wide sleeves, and standing less than three feet tall. “I once struck him with a fishing pole; he died in the river. How could I end up staying at his estate?” Without caring about the woman, Ben Dao grabbed his fishing pole and sneaked out of the estate, running toward the river.

Meanwhile, the man in the estate called out to his sister, “Sister, prepare some frankincense and a bowl of hot wine for me to drink; my back hurts terribly.” She immediately prepared it for her brother. He asked, “Why did you call me?” He replied, “Let me explain. I didn’t provoke him either. I was standing by the river when I saw that scoundrel returning from buying wine. I covered my face and cried, ‘All my descendants have been taken by you!’ He struck his fishing pole, but I turned into a burst of fire and rushed into the water. He went ashore and left, but I seized his fishing boat. Since he couldn’t find anywhere else, he came along the riverbank to my estate. I thought he wouldn’t go anywhere else, so he must be staying here. Sister, has he ever come to stay here before?” The sister asked, “Who is it?” Her brother replied, “It’s Liu Ben Dao; he’s a fisherman.” The woman thought to herself, “So this official is the one who hurt my brother. I must cover for him.” She replied, “He did come to the estate to stay, but I didn’t let him stay; he left on his own. Brother, you’ve worked hard; now let’s arrange for you to sleep.”

Meanwhile, Liu Bendao walked along the desolate riverbank, from the third watch of the night until almost the fifth watch, his legs aching from walking. Under the bright moon, he saw a large rock and set down his oar. He had rested for only a short while when he heard someone approaching quickly, shouting loudly, “Liu Bendao, don’t go! I’m coming after you!” Bendao cried out in distress, not knowing whether to flee or stay. “Could it be that man chasing me to avenge the loss of my oar?” He picked up his oar and stood ready to face him. Before long, the person approached. It was a woman dressed in white, holding a bundle. She said, “Sir, you left. I couldn’t find you behind. I got my brother to sleep and then rushed after you. Don’t be suspicious—I’m neither a ghost nor a spirit; I’m a human being. Look at my clothes with seams, my shadow under the moon, and my voice, which gets louder with each call. I came here specifically to find you.” Seeing this, Bendao put down his oar and asked, “Madam, you came all night—what’s the matter?” The woman asked, “Do you have a wife? If you do, I’ll be your concubine; if not, I’ll marry you. The bundle contains enough money for you to live comfortably. Will you agree?” Bendao thought about such a kind woman, carrying a bundle of clothes and jewels—a gift he could hardly refuse. He looked at her and said, “Thank you. I’ve never had a wife before.” He threw his oar into the river and went with her until dawn, arriving in Jiangzhou. Bendao asked her to be his wife. She asked, “Husband, where shall we settle down?” He replied, “Don’t worry; I’ll find a place myself.”

Entering the city, they saw a sign hanging above a house that read “Gu Yilang’s Shop.” Bendao went up and asked, “Who is Gu Yilang?” The man replied, “I am him.”

Bendao said, “My father and I had a disagreement, and he forced my wife and me to leave. We have nowhere to stay. Could I ask Yilang for a small room to stay in for three or five days? Once we change our minds at the advice of relatives, we’ll leave. Please accept my thanks.” Gu Yilang asked, “Where is the young lady?” Bendao called, “My wife is here to meet you.” Gu Yilang brought them into the shop, led them to the third room on the south side, opened the door, and gave them the key. Bendao was very pleased. That day they made fire and cooked food. They sold some of the jewels to buy chests, bedding, and clothes. They stayed in the shop for about half a year. Bendao said to his wife, “Today we use resources, tomorrow we use more—but even gold runs out eventually.” The woman laughed and said, “Don’t worry!” She took something out of the chest and showed it to her husband. “We’ll be fine for life.” As the saying goes: Don’t think men lack ambition; even women can tell who’s wise and who’s not.

Then the woman took out a divination board shaped like a circle for the sky and a square for the earth. Seeing this, Bendao asked his wife, “How did you get this?” She replied, “When my father was alive, he served as the governor of Jiangzhou. His surname was Qi and his name was Wenshu. My childhood name was Shounu. Unfortunately, when he was on a mission, our group encountered storms on the river, and my parents and everyone else died. I was...”

That man, wearing a smooth silk hat, a green robe with wide sleeves, and standing less than three feet tall, saved me at the manor. That’s why I regarded him as my brother. But when that man disappeared from the boat, it was actually him who had taken control of things. You came to the manor to stay for the night; when he asked me about you, I hid the truth from him. I truly wish to become your spouse. How do you think I got this divination board? As a child, I learned three things from my father: first, writing and reading; second, writing talismans and incantations; third, fortune-telling and predicting the future. Today, I use this divination board to go out with Gu Yilang and find a place where we can practice fortune-telling to make ends meet.

I thanked him, saying, “It’s all thanks to my wise wife.”

We took some money and went with Gu Yilang to Nanwazi to find a place for practicing fortune-telling. We bought paper, ink, brushes, and inkstones, hung up a sign, chose an auspicious day, and opened our shop. We named it “The Lady in White.” Gu Yilang accompanied his wife, and they left after half a day. No business was done that day, nor the next day. The following afternoon, still no business. The woman looked at her husband and said, “It’s been three days with no business. Do you have any idea what’s going on? Someone must be causing trouble for me. Go see what’s happening and tell me.”

I got up and checked both sides of the market area, but there was nothing unusual. When I stepped outside the market, I saw a crowd gathered. I stepped aside to take a look and saw a man holding a medicine ladle, announcing, “There’s a small peak at Wuli Pavilion, from which one can know the directions—north, south, west, and east. How many lost travelers are there in the world who don’t know how to return to the right path?”

Listen, dear listeners: I am a cultivator from Wan Gong Mountain. I have three tasks. After leaving Wan Gong Mountain, I came to Jiangzhou. To all the honorable gentlemen here, let me tell you: First, after thirteen years of cultivation on the mountain, I created a fine elixir to save people in the future. Second, I’m here to find something. Third, I intend to save the entire city of Jiangzhou. Everyone was astonished upon hearing this. Before the man could finish speaking, he laughed loudly and said, “Many gentlemen haven’t even bought my medicine yet, but they’ve already seen this ‘thing.’ Where do you think it is?” He glanced outside the crowd and waved his hand, saying, “Young man, come in.” I looked at that man. He said, “Come here, I’ll talk to you.” Frightened, I hurriedly followed him inside. The man clapped his hands and said, “You can save the people of Jiangzhou! I’ve seen that ‘thing’ now. Where is it? It’s this young man.” Everyone was surprised—how could this young man be that ‘thing’? The man said, “Listen to me. Young man, there’s dark energy between your eyebrows—some evil spirit is haunting you. Tell me the truth.” I recounted everything I had seen regarding that woman. The man said, “With everyone here, that ‘thing’ is none other than that woman. I’ll save you.” He took out a talisman from a yellow bundle on the ground and gave it to me, saying, “Now go back, go to your room, pretend to be drunk, and go to sleep.”

The woman returned home late at night and slept until the third watch. She placed the talisman on him, and then his true appearance was revealed. Having heard what the man said, I didn’t go to the fortune-telling shop but returned to my inn, opened the door, and pretended to be drunk and went to sleep.

It is said that the woman didn’t see me arrive. In the evening, after closing her fortune-telling shop, she returned home anxious and asked Gu Yilang, “Has my husband returned?” Gu Yilang replied, “My master got drunk early and went to bed.” The woman laughed heartily and said, “I see!” She entered the room and, upon seeing me, shouted loudly. I was startled. The woman then said, “How unreasonable! We’ve been husband and wife for so long—what have I done to wrong you? Yet you believe those people’s words and spread rumors that we’re not getting along! I told you to see who tried to disrupt my shop and kept it closed for three days. But you believed those beggar Taoist’s words, pretended to be drunk, and had a talisman placed on me to reveal my true face. I am the daughter of the governor of Qi—could I possibly be a ghost? You believe such baseless claims just to harm me! Give me back that talisman, and we can continue as husband and wife; if not, we part ways right now.” I took out the talisman from my pocket and gave it to her. We had dinner, slept through the night, and when we woke up in the morning, just as we were about to leave, the woman said, “Wait. I won’t open the shop today. I’ll go look for that beggar Taoist and ask him why he used a talisman to create discord between us as husband and wife. Then I’ll see if he can really fight against me.”

The two of us went to the main street. I led her to Nanwazi, where a crowd was gathered around the man. He was speaking animatedly when the woman pushed her way through the crowd and shouted, “Beggar Taoist! You’re just a vagrant from the countryside, yet you used a talisman to create discord between us as husband and wife! You had me place it on myself so you could see my true face.” The woman clapped her hands and said, “I am the daughter of the former governor Qi Anfu. You all must know my father. How dare you say I’m a ghost! If you have any skills, defeat me in front of everyone; if I have any skills, I’ll defeat you.” The man, enraged, drew his sword and swung at the woman’s head. Those watching thought he was about to kill her. But as he swung the sword, the woman pointed with her hand, and everyone gasped in shock. There’s a poem to prove this:

Last night the east wind rose in the void,
The alchemy furnace cold, wine cups sparse.
A man fails to fulfill his life’s ambition,
Often lighting a lamp to read ancient books.

The woman pointed with her hand and cried, “Strike!” The man couldn’t lower his sword or raise his hand. She said, “We, as husband and wife, are unharmed. You used a talisman against me, but you couldn’t do anything! What do you have to say now?” The man merely said, “Please forgive me, madam! In my anger, I upset you without meaning to. I beg for your mercy.” Everyone laughed and urged the woman to forgive him. She said, “Considering everyone’s presence, I’ll spare you, beggar Taoist.” As she murmured something, the sword immediately...

At that moment, everyone laughed. The master parted the crowd and left. Before the people had dispersed, he returned. Was he going to do something to that lady? No, he came to get his sword. Then the master left.

After that, the woman stayed in the fortune-telling shop from morning till night, with no chance to move around. She was busy reading fortunes, writing talismans, and casting spells; she didn’t even have time to eat snacks, which is how she became famous.

One day, a man arrived with a sedan chair, asking the young lady to go with him. He said, “I am a servant of Lord Zhao Anfu from Jiangzhou. His son is ill and has not recovered after a long time. By order of his lord, I ask you to come with me in this sedan chair.”

The woman instructed her husband to return to the inn.

When she got into the sedan chair, Zhao Anfu led her to the garden. There, she saw the young man in a pavilion, talking to himself, with a strong smell of alcohol in his breath. The group stood by the side gate of the garden, watching as the woman in white performed rituals. After chanting the spells, a strong wind blew—coming silently and leaving just as silently, able to blow things apart or scatter them at will.

Who could have stolen that delicate fragrance and taken it away without a trace?

Where the wind passed, a woman in yellow appeared, looking furious, shouting, “Who dares to harm me!” Upon seeing the woman in white, she bowed deeply and said, “So it’s you, sister.” The woman in white asked, “How did you come down from the sky?” The woman in yellow replied, “Sister, how did you end up here?” The woman in white said, “I was invited by Zhao Anfu to save his son from evil spirits.” The woman in yellow refused to believe anything until she heard this. Then, she opened her eyes wide and snapped, “If your own husband can’t save him, how can you save someone else?” With another gust of wind, the woman in yellow disappeared. The woman in white then saved the young man in the garden. Zhao Anfu thanked her with gifts and sent someone to take her back to Gu Yilang’s inn. When they arrived at the inn, she gave some money to the messenger and sent him away. She asked Gu Yilang, “Is my husband in his room?” Gu Yilang replied, “Let me let you know—a woman in yellow entered the room, took my master away, lifted the skylight, and flew southwest.” The woman in white said, “It doesn’t matter!”

She immediately shouted, “Fly!” She stepped on a cloud and soared after the woman in yellow. It seemed she caught up with her, and she cried out, “Give me my husband back!” The woman in yellow, seeing her approaching, shouted, “Drop him!”

She set Liu Bendao down and began fighting with the woman in white.

Liu Bendao paid no attention to his wife and continued on his way. When he reached a temple, he was exhausted. He saw a monk standing at the entrance. Liu Bendao asked, “Master, may I rest in your house for a while?” The monk replied, “I’m very busy today! A donor has come to feed the monks.” Just then, several loads of firewood, several barrels of sauce, several loads of rice, along with incense, candles, paper offerings, and money for the monks, were brought. From afar, under an umbrella, one person could be seen wearing a round hat covered with silk, a green robe with wide sleeves, and standing less than three feet tall. Seeing this, Liu Bendao fled in panic. But the donor caught up with him and grabbed him, saying, “You’re the man who hit me with a pole! Now that you’re in my hands, I intend to take out your heart to use as food for wine.” At this critical moment, a lady in white rushed to the temple entrance. Seeing that man, she cried, “Brother, don’t be angry! He’s my husband.” Before she could finish speaking, a woman in yellow also arrived and shouted at that man, “Brother, don’t listen to her! How can he be your real husband? Since he hit you, we sisters are all enemies!” As they pulled and tugged at each other, the four of them became entangled in a mess.

Just as they couldn’t resolve their dispute, an old man came out of the temple and shouted loudly, “You beasts, don’t be rude!” He then said, “Change!” The woman in yellow transformed into a yellow deer; the man in green turned into a green-scaled magical turtle; and the lady in white became a white crane. The old man was actually the God of Longevity. He mounted the white crane and ascended into the heavens. Liu Bendao also climbed onto the yellow deer and followed the God of Longevity. The magical turtle guided them upward into the sky.

Liu Bendao was originally an immortal official in charge of records at the Office of prolonging life. Because he liked to play around with cranes, deer, and turtles and was lazy about his duties, he was banished to the mortal world as a poor scholar. Once his exile was complete, the God of Longevity from the South Pole brought him back to heaven. That temple was called the Temple of the God of Longevity, located by the Yang River in Jiangzhou, and its ruins still exist to this day. A poem says:

Originally an immortal official untainted by dust,
Living among cranes, deer, as his companions.
The gods refuse to reveal the truth,
Leading many people on Earth astray.

Volume 40: The Iron Tree in Jingyang Palace – Subduing Demons

Spring brings new scenery to the human world—peaches in bloom, plums red, willow branches green. Luxurious carriages and precious horses move back and forth, bringing the east wind into the imperial city. With wine remaining and a spirit for poetry, one can easily forget worldly gains and fame. Let us recall the events of the past—still remembering the water spirit hidden in Jingyang.

Since the beginning of time, when humans and creatures first appeared, there were three great sages who became the founders of the three religions. What are these three religions? The first is Confucianism, founded by Confucius, who edited and compiled the Six Classics, leaving behind laws for all generations.

The teacher of emperors, the ancestor of all literary works through the ages. This is one doctrine. The second is Buddhism, represented by Sakyamuni Buddha in the West. He was born into the royal family of the Kingdom of Shavi in those days; his great wisdom shone, illuminating the ten directions of the world. Golden lotuses emerged from the earth, and he had a golden body sixteen feet tall. He could transform in various forms—nothing was too great or too small for him, nothing was beyond his reach. He saved all sentient beings and was called the Teacher of Gods and Humans. This is yet another doctrine. The third is Taoism, represented by the Supreme Lord Laozi, the ancestor of primordial energy. He created heaven and earth, as well as Buddhas and immortals. He was also known as the Iron Master and the Supreme God Yuan Yang. He took countless incarnations throughout history. In the forty-eighth year of King Tang of Shang, he reappeared in the world, riding on the essence of the sun, transforming into a pellet that entered the mouth of a jade maiden. After she swallowed it, she became pregnant. She carried the child for eighty-one years, until the ninth year of King Wu Ding, when the child was born with white hair already present. People called him Laozi. Laozi was born under a plum tree; he took “Li” as his surname, and “Er” as his given name, with the courtesy name Yangbo. Later, he rode a green ox out of Hangu Pass. Yin Xi, the guard at the pass, saw a purple aura around him and realized he was an extraordinary person. He obtained the “Tao Te Ching,” three thousand characters long, which was passed down to the world. Laozi went to the desert to cultivate and achieve immortality. Now he resides in the celestial realm of Taiqing, known as the Venerable of Tao and Virtue. This is yet another doctrine.

Among these three doctrines, only Laozi is regarded as the founder of Taoism, residing in the celestial realm of Taiqing, surrounded by colorful clouds and auspicious mists. One day, it was his birthday. Deities from the thirty-three heavenly palaces, as well as those from Mount Zhongnan, Penglai Mountain, Langyuan Mountain, and other places—thirty-six sacred realms and seventy-two blessed lands—along with countless immortals, came floating on clouds. Some rode colorful phoenixes, some white cranes, some red dragons, and some red birds. They arrived one after another to pay their respects, offering birthday poems and bowing in homage. The poem was titled “Water Dragon Chant”: “Red clouds and purple canopies abound; the immortal palaces are in full springtime splendor. When black cranes arrive and the green ox passes by, the colorful clouds remain. His birthday celebration is grand; we rejoice at the five thousand words of the ‘Tao Te Ching,’ which will endure forever. Moreover, at this heavenly banquet, rare fruits are presented—peaches as big as melons, ice-preserved peaches that last forever, and lotus roots that have existed for a thousand years. Compared to the endless ages of heaven and earth, even the vast ocean seems insignificant as a symbol of true immortality.”

Seeing the deities praising him, Laozi showed his divine appearance and held a banquet in their honor. When the wine had reached its peak, Taibai Jinxing suddenly spoke up: “Do all the immortals know about what’s happening in Jiangxi Province on the southern continent?”

“Jiangxi used to belong to Yuzhang. In four hundred years, there will be monsters like dragons and sea serpents causing chaos. If no one can subdue them, an area of a thousand miles will turn into the sea.” Laozi replied, “I already know. In four hundred years, there will be a place called Xishan, surrounded by mountains and waters. A remarkable person named Xu Sun will emerge there. He can lead the immortals to eliminate these evil forces. Now, one immortal must descend to the mortal world and choose someone with perfect virtue to teach him the ways of Tao, so that when Xu Sun is born, he will have a source of guidance.” One of the immortals, Wang Hongkang, surnamed Wang and named Wei, with the courtesy name Bochong, stepped forward and said, “I see that among those destined to descend, there is someone with pure conduct and the demeanor of an immortal. He is suitable to receive the profound teachings of Tao.”

He further passed this path on to the Jurchen Chanmu, who in turn gave it to Xu Sun. It was passed down from mouth to mouth, heart to heart, so that in future, when true immortals were present to impart their teachings, Jiangxi would not be lost. What do the other immortals think of this?” Laojun said, “Well done, well done!” The immortals then escorted the King of Filial Piety and Fraternal Love to the Tian of Yanmo, to the Hall of Brightness, to report this matter to the Jade Emperor. The Jade Emperor approved the request and ordered the immortals in charge of the hall to deliver the sacred scriptures and imperial decrees to the King of Filial Piety and Fraternal Love for him to take care of. The King bid farewell to the immortals, rode on auspicious clouds, and in just a moment arrived in the world of Yanluo.

Back to the story: During the Former Han Dynasty, there was a man surnamed Lan, named Qi, with the courtesy name Ziyue. He was originally from Jiayu in Jiuyuan. After two hundred years, he still had white hair and a youthful appearance. Leading his family of over a hundred people, he practiced filial piety diligently, using his goodness to influence others without offending anyone. People dared not call him by his name but referred to him as Lord Lan.

At that time, children sang songs like this: “Lord Lan, Lord Lan, connected to heaven above. The red dragon comes to greet him; his name is listed among the stars.”

Everyone knew he would surely become an immortal.

One day, Lord Lan was sitting by a desk. Suddenly, a man appeared—wearing a leisurely headband, a Taoist robe, cloud-like shoes, and holding a fish-shaped drum in his hand. He came over gracefully. Seeing that this man had the aura of an immortal, Lord Lan hurriedly went down the steps to greet him. They sat down as guests. After drinking tea, Lord Lan asked, “What is your noble surname and name, sir?” The man replied, “I am an immortal among the stars—the King of Filial Piety and Fraternal Love. I have descended from the Upper Clarity to roam among mortals. Having long heard of your dedication to practicing filial piety, I came to visit you.” Hearing this, Lord Lan bowed his head and said, “I am but a humble mortal who has only strived to practice filial piety, enough only to improve myself. I cannot lead all people. How could I have any merits to move an immortal spirit?” The King of Filial Piety and Fraternal Love then helped Lord Lan up and said, “Stop! I will teach you the essence of filial piety and fraternal love.” Lord Lan stood up and said, “I am eager to hear your guidance!”

The King said, “The primordial energy becomes the Great Way at noon—that is the ‘King of Filial Immortals.’ The original energy becomes the ultimate way at midnight—that is the ‘Bright King of Filial Piety.’ The mysterious energy becomes the way of filial piety among the stars—that is the ‘King of Filial Piety and Fraternal Love.’ When filial piety reaches heaven, the sun and moon shine brightly; when it reaches earth, all things come to life; when it reaches the people, the way of kingship is established. Thus, Shun and Wen, being extremely filial, had phoenixes fly to them. Jiang Shi and Wang Xiang caught fish to offer to their mothers. By this standard, from emperors down to commoners, wherever filial piety reaches, all beings respond. You have cultivated for three lifetimes and achieved great merit. You shall receive the original energy at midnight and become the Bright King of Filial Piety. Four hundred years later, during the Jin Dynasty, a true immortal named Xu Sun emerged. He carried forward my teachings on filial piety and became the leader of all immortals. He received the primordial energy at noon and became the King of Filial Immortals.”

The King of Filial Piety and Fraternal Love then imparted to Lord Lan all the wonderful secrets of the immortals, as well as the Golden Elixir Mirror, copper talismans, iron decrees, the sacred scriptures of Shangqing, and the methods for swiftly defeating evil spirits. He also instructed, “This path must not be taught lightly. Only Danyang Huangtang has a woman named Chanmu, whose virtue is pure and flawless; you may teach her.” He could then have Chanmu pass these teachings on to Xu Sun, a young man from the Jin dynasty who sought immortality, and Xu Sun in turn would pass them on to Wu Meng and his disciples. In this way, there would be a clear lineage, and those who wished to transcend the ordinary and reach sainthood would not lack a path. After speaking these words, the King of Filial Piety and Fraternal Love raised his feet, and auspicious clouds surrounded him as he soared into the sky. Lord Lan bowed and saw him off. From then on, he studied these secret talismans and formulas one by one and chose a place to cultivate the elixir. The method stated: The essence of black lead comes from heaven, while the marrow of white gold comes from earth. Black embodies the yang within water, while white contains the energy of fire. When black and white interact, yin and yang return to their proper places. Both contain inherent qualities, and thus they are considered of the same kind in elixir scriptures. Black regards white as heaven, and white regards black as earth. When yin and yang are in chaos, golden lotuses and emerald blossoms appear. The precious moon fills the dantian, and radiant light illuminates wisdom. Do not close the pathways to heaven, nor let the primordial energy escape. These are extraordinary formulas and techniques, embodying the principles of fire and martial strategy. Nurturing sainthood among mortals—this is the greatest treasure of all. One day, a son was born, and each son had his own mate.

When Lord Lan completed the elixir, his entire family took it. The elders’ gray hair turned black again, and the young ones could fast without feeling hunger. Those who heard of this knew for sure that he would ascend to Shangqing.

At that time, there was a fire dragon, a monstrous creature in the Yangzi River, possessing great magical powers. Knowing that Lord Lan had achieved enlightenment and that his teachings would be passed down, causing future generations to be destroyed, it led its army of shrimp soldiers and crab generals, along with its allies, to rush out from the waves and surround Lord Lan’s house, shouting violently. Hearing this, Lord Lan didn’t know where the disaster came from. When he opened the door, he was shocked! There was a thick cloud of black smoke and countless flames—these were the 480,000 pores on Red Boy’s body bursting forth at once. Moreover, Huaguang burned the 36 golden bricks in his hands. Wherever this happened, the flames lasted for three months; on Kunshan Mountain, all jade and stone were instantly consumed. It was like the youthful Zhou Yu’s battle at Red Cliffs, or Zhuge Liang’s strategy of setting fires to enemy camps at Bowang.

That fire was neither celestial nor earthly, nor human nor ghostly, nor lightning fire—it was emitted by a fire dragon in the Yangzi River. Lord Lan’s family was terrified. Realizing it was the fire dragon causing trouble, Lord Lan asked, “You wretched beast, why attack my home without reason? What do you want?” The dragon replied, “I only ask for the Golden Elixir Mirror, copper talismans, iron decrees, and the sacred scriptures. If you give them to me, everything will be fine; otherwise, I’ll burn your entire family to ashes!” Lord Lan said, “The Golden Elixir Mirror and the others were given to me by the King of Filial Piety and Fraternal Love during battle. How could I give them to you carelessly?” Suddenly, from within the flames, a turtle general appeared, with a strange appearance, carrying a shield and displaying great might. Lord Lan opened his immortal eyes and saw that it was just a turtle; he paid no attention to it. Meanwhile, the shrimp soldiers jumped around chaotically, and the crab generals rampaged about, each clad in armor.

Holding a steel fork in hand, Lord Lan raised his divine eye and saw that they were all crabs and shrimps—nothing worth paying attention to. So he cut off a fingernail, about three inches long, blew out a puff of divine breath, recited an incantation, and it transformed into a three-foot-long precious sword. There is a song to prove it: “Not steel nor iron, yet its substance is firm; it turns into a sword with a brilliant shine. No need for forging in a furnace’s smoke; its deadly aura rivals that of Dragon Spring. Its light and color are like frost and snow; those who see it marvel at its wonder. From a crystal chest, lotus flowers bloom; golden rings surround it like the moon. This sword embodies the essence of immortals; even Qianjiang and Moye can’t compare to it. It shimmers like a green snake’s scales, layered like a green turtle’s hide. Its cold light outshines the stars; its sound resembles the roar of a dragon. If wielded today amidst fierce flames, who dares to stand against it?”

Lord Lan threw the transformed sword into the air. The sword whizzed through the air as if flipping over before flying into the flames. With swings to the left and right, thrusts forward and backward, cuts from left to right—how could those vile monsters withstand it? The rat-like monsters hid their heads and fled quickly, carrying a shield on their backs. Where did they go? They hid deep within the rocks at the mouth of the river, still not daring to show their heads. When faced with the shrimp soldiers, they tried to escape by jumping around with their two steel forks. Where did they go? They hid in the cracks beneath the Luoyang Bridge, not even daring to stretch their waists. The crab generals, though clad in armor, couldn’t help them either; they still tried to flee with their two steel forks. With eight legs, they couldn’t move faster, but they were split in two by the “Pumengsong” sword. Look at what came out of their bellies—neither red nor white, neither yellow nor black. It resembled pus but wasn’t pus, blood but wasn’t blood. It rolled all over the ground. Truly, “Just watch those crabs with a cold eye—how long can they keep causing trouble?”

The fire dragon knew Lord Lan’s powers were too great to resist, so it sighed, “‘Future generations will have their own blessings.’ Let my descendants enjoy the good fortune and bear the misfortune. Why should I worry about them?’” Then it rushed into the depths of the Yangzi River and hid there. Lord Lan then led his family of dozens to ascend to heaven, and the Jade Emperor conferred upon him the title of King of Filial Piety—no need to elaborate further.

Now, in Danyang County of Jinling, there was a place called Huangtang, where lived a woman named Ying. She had a profound understanding of the Way and forgot her hometown; centuries passed without her knowing. People who saw her over generations found that her teeth and hair never faded, so they called her “Mother Chan.” One day, as she passed through the market, she saw a little boy crying on the ground. When asked about his background, he said, “My parents fled the chaos and abandoned me here.” Mother Chan felt pity for his loneliness and took him in to raise. As he grew up, she taught him to read, and he proved to be exceptionally intelligent, knowing everything about astronomy and geography.

An elderly man from the neighboring village wanted to marry him off. Mother Chan asked her son if he agreed. He replied, “I am not of this mortal world. I am the King of Filial Piety in the moon, entrusted by the gods of filial piety and brotherly love to spread this teachings to my mother. Now, I have taken this form…”

“As a son, I must save my mother; why discuss marriage further! But we can build an immortal altar and pass on this path, so that my mother may ascend to the highest realms.” Upon hearing these words, Lady Chan was both astonished and delighted. She then built an altar in the Yellow Hall and vigorously promoted the teachings of filial piety and fraternal respect. Having obtained the secrets of cultivation, King Xiaoming passed on to Lady Chan all the treasures taught by the King of Filial Piety—such as the golden elixir mirror, steel talismans, iron decrees, sacred texts, as well as the techniques of cutting evil forces and swift movement. Lady Chan said to King Xiaoming, “In terms of past kindness, I was the mother and you were the son; but in terms of today’s transmission, you are the teacher and I am the disciple.” She then wanted to bow in reverence. King Xiaoming replied, “Consider only the relationship between mother and son; do not speak of teacher and disciple.” He refused her bow and merely instructed her, “This path must be kept deeply secret and must not be disclosed lightly. In later generations, during the Jin Dynasty, two men sought immortality—one named Xu Sun and the other Wu Meng. Both were recorded in the list of immortals, but only Xu Sun received this path. According to the ‘Yuhuang Xuanpu,’ Wu Meng held the rank of Imperial Censor, while Xu Sun served as Chief Immortal Envoy and Grand Historian, overseeing all immortals and thus being their leader. My dear mother, you may pass this path on to Xu Sun, and then have Xu Sun pass it on to Wu Meng, so that the ranks will remain orderly.” After speaking, King Xiaoming bid farewell to his mother and soared away into the sky. A poem attests to this:

“Traveling without a carriage, riding on clouds alone; mortals are naturally not of the same kind.
The wise king feared the loss of immortal arts, urging caution for future generations.”

Back then, during the reign of Emperor Ling of Han, the Ten Eunuchs held power, loyal officials were imprisoned, slanderers ran rampant, and evil spread throughout the land, causing widespread resentment among the people. This resentment moved the heavens, leading to two great disasters: after prolonged rain came a long drought. The rain lasted for five months straight, filling rivers and lakes and leaving kitchens smokeless. Once the water receded, there was no rain for years. Not only did the crops wither, but even plants dried up. The poor people worried about their next meal before even having breakfast, and they made winter clothes out of summer garments. There were corrupt officials in the court and bandits in the countryside; the land had no grass, and trees had no bark. The strong scattered everywhere, while the old died in ditches. At that time, there was a man in the capital named Xu Yan, with the courtesy name Ruyu, descended from the Xu family of Yingyang. He was kind-hearted and highly skilled in medicine, and he became an official in the Imperial Medical Bureau. During the years of famine, he used all his family’s wealth to produce hundreds of bushels of pills called “Famine Relief Elixirs,” which he distributed to those in need. Each pill could sustain a person for over forty days, and many starving people survived thanks to them. During the early years of Emperor Xian’s reign, the Yellow Turban rebels rose, causing chaos throughout the land. The capital suffered severe famine again; rice cost a thousand coins per bushel, everyone looked pale, and everyone was emaciated. By then, Xu Yan had passed away. His son, Xu Su, still had a wealthy family, so he gave away all his grain to the villagers. Then he led his family to escape the chaos to Jiangnan, settling in Nanchang, Yuzhang. Seeing that the Xu family had accumulated good deeds through generations, a divine general reported to the Jade Emperor, “If we do not reward them generously, there will be no incentive to practice virtue!” The Jade Emperor approved the request, and the imperial officials in charge of the immortal records were ordered to check the rankings in the ‘Xuanpu’ to see which immortals should descend to this world. After checking, the officials reported, “In Jiangnan during the Jin Dynasty, a malevolent dragon spirit will emerge, harassing the common people and fostering a thriving group of evil beings.”

It is said that in this era, the immortal from Jade Cave descended to earth, imparting the sacred art of swiftly cutting down evil forces taught by the Jurchen goddess, thereby eliminating the threats posed by those evil beings and protecting the people. Upon hearing this report, the Jade Emperor immediately issued an order to summon the immortal from Jade Cave, commanding him to transform into a golden phoenix, carry a precious pearl in its beak, and descend to Xu Su’s household to be reborn there. A poem attests to this:

The Jade Emperor personally conveyed his message;
A golden phoenix, with a pearl in its beak, appeared among auspicious clouds.
Let us see if this mortal possesses the seeds of immortality—
A family filled with virtue will surely enjoy prosperity.

It is said that in the third month of the second year of Wu Chiwu, Xu Su’s wife, Lady He, had a dream at night. In the dream, a golden phoenix flew down to her courtyard, carrying a pearl in its beak, which fell into Lady He’s palm. She was overjoyed and played with it; when she put it in her mouth, it accidentally slipped down into her stomach, causing her to become pregnant. Xu Su was both happy and worried. He was happy because he was over thirty years old without any children, yet now she was pregnant; he was worried because Lady He had never given birth before, and he feared the delivery might be difficult. There was a fortune-teller at Guangrun Gate, known by the pseudonym “Ghost Pusher,” whose predictions were incredibly accurate. Xu Su went to ask him about the outcome—whether it would be a boy or a girl—and what the fate would hold.

Xu Su tidied his clothes and headed to Guangrun Gate. He saw the fortune-teller busy consulting the oracles over and over again, with so many people around that it was impossible to get through. Xu Su stood there until his legs grew numb, but still couldn’t get a chance to speak. Finally, he called out, “Mr. Ghost Pusher!” When the fortune-teller heard his pseudonym, he recognized him as an old acquaintance and quickly said, “Please come in.” Xu Su pushed his way through the crowd before he could enter. After exchanging greetings, Xu Su said, “I, Xu Su, am here to ask about my pregnancy—whether it will be a boy or a girl, and what the fate will be. Please advise me.” The fortune-teller lit an incense stick, bowed, and recited four lines:

I devoutly pray to the Six Gods of Fate;
King Wen’s divination holds divine power.
Good and bad are contained within all things;
Never rely solely on human opinions.

After learning Xu Su’s name and intentions, the fortune-teller tossed a copper coin six times, resulting in the “Earth-Heaven Peace” hexagram. The fortune-teller said, “Congratulations! It’s a boy!” Then he wrote a few lines: “Favor and virtue surround you; the Green Dragon protects the world. Autumn winds bring osmanthus flowers; there’s no need for worry.”

Mr. Xu was overjoyed upon hearing this. He took back the oracle book and gave the scholar some money as a thank you. When he returned and told his wife, Mrs. He also felt somewhat relieved. Time flew by, and before long it was the Mid-Autumn Festival on the 15th day of the eighth month. That night, the sky was clear and bright, with a full moon shining brightly without any clouds. Mr. Xu and Mrs. He enjoyed the view for a while, but before they knew it, it was nearly midnight. Suddenly, the moonlight lost its brilliance, and a celestial melody resounded in the air. Mrs. He suddenly felt severe abdominal pain and gave birth to a child. A wonderful fragrance filled the room, and a red light illuminated everything. It was truly as if a phoenix appeared among colorful clouds, and a qilin was sent down from the heavens.

The next morning, neighbors came to offer their congratulations. The child born was none other than a true immortal. He had a graceful appearance and sharp intelligence. At just three years old, he already understood the principles of propriety. His parents named him Xun and gave him the courtesy name Jingzhi. At ten years old, he began studying under a teacher. He could read ten lines at a glance, and writing and composition came naturally to him; no ordinary teacher could teach him such things. Thus, the true immortal abandoned his studies and became eager to learn the ways of cultivation and immortality, though he had no teacher to guide him, and his longing grew ever stronger.

One day, a man named Hu Yun, with the courtesy name Ziyuan, who had been classmates with the true immortal since childhood and was very close to him, came to visit after not seeing him for a long time. The true immortal rushed out to greet him warmly and talked about old times. Seeing that the true immortal expressed a strong desire to become an immortal, Ziyuan said, “You are so talented at such a young age, yet you wish to become someone beyond the mortal world?” The true immortal replied, “I’m ashamed. I realize that life is short, and I desire to find a way to transcend the mundane world, but I regret not having a wise teacher to guide me.” Ziyuan said, “Your words suit my intentions exactly. Once, when I visited a fellow cultivator named Master Zhan Ying from Yunyang, I heard that there was a man in Xining Prefecture named Wu Meng, with the courtesy name Shiyun. He had once passed the imperial examinations for filial piety and served as the magistrate of Luoyang under the Wu dynasty. Later, he resigned from his position and returned home, where he learned secret techniques from a remarkable man named Ding Yi. He also heard that Bao Jian, the governor of Nanhai, was a man of great virtue, so he went to serve him and learned his secret methods. When he returned to Yuzhang, a fierce storm arose on the river. He then used his white feather fan to draw a path in the water and crossed safely. After crossing, the path turned back into water. Those who witnessed this were greatly astonished. From then on, his Taoist skills became widely known, and many disciples followed him. I myself have always wanted to become his disciple, but I dare not leave my elderly mother. If you’re willing to go through the hardships, you could go and become his disciple.” Hearing this, the true immortal was overjoyed and said, “Thank you so much for your guidance!”

After Ziyuan left, the true immortal bid farewell to his parents, packed his belongings, and set off for Xining to search for Lord Wu. There is a poem that praises this: “The path to immortality is invisible and difficult; without a teacher’s guidance, one should not attempt it.”

Lord Hu generously offered his help, helping the true immortal overcome the first obstacle on his journey.

Now, the true immortal, determined to become a disciple, braved the hardships of the journey. In just a few days, he arrived at Lord Wu’s residence. He wrote a letter as a student’s request and asked a servant to deliver it. When Lord Wu saw that it was from “Xu Xun, a student from Yuzhang,” he was greatly surprised and said:

“This man is indeed a sage of the Way!” He immediately went out to greet him. At that time, Master Wu was ninety-one years old, while the True Lord was forty-one. The True Lord did not dare to receive him as a guest and said, “Elder, I wish to learn under your guidance.” Master Wu replied, “I am but a simple man who has grasped some aspects of the Way’s techniques—how could I be a teacher? But since you have come here, I must share everything with you; how could I be selfish? Nor would I dare to include you among my disciples.” From then on, he always referred to the True Lord as “Master Xu,” treating him with great respect as a guest. The True Lord also held Master Wu in high esteem and did not dare to consider himself superior.

One day, the two sat in the Qingxu Hall and discussed matters related to immortals. The True Lord asked, “It is an established truth throughout history that all people must die after being born. Yet I have seen those who remain strong and never age, who never die after birth. What path can lead to such a state?” Master Wu replied, “When a person is born, it is due to the union of parents’ vital energies; yin combines with yang, and life arises from this combination. After three hundred days, the form takes shape, and spiritual light enters the body, separating from the mother. After five thousand days, the vital energy is sufficient, and the child reaches the age of fifteen. At this stage, there is half yang within yin, similar to the light of the rising sun.

If one does not cultivate properly after this point, they will lose their original vital energy and exhaust their true qi. With weakened qi, one suffers from illness, aging, and death.” The True Lord asked, “How can one avoid illness, aging, and death?” Master Wu replied, “The only way to escape illness, aging, and death is to cultivate immortality among mortals and then ascend to heaven as an immortal.” The True Lord asked, “When people die, they become ghosts; when they achieve the Way, they become immortals. But what does it mean to ascend to heaven as an immortal?” Master Wu explained, “Those who are purely yin without any yang are ghosts; those who are purely yang without any yin are immortals; those who have both yin and yang are ordinary people.

Only ordinary people can become immortals or ghosts. There are five ranks of immortals, and there are three levels of attainment, depending on the individual’s efforts in cultivation.” The True Lord asked, “What do you mean by three levels of attainment and five ranks of immortals?” Master Wu replied, “The three levels of attainment are minor achievement, intermediate achievement, and major achievement. The five ranks of immortals are ghost immortals, human immortals, earth immortals, divine immortals, and heavenly immortals. Ghost immortals are those who, in their youth, fail to cultivate properly, indulge in desires, become like withered trees, and have hearts like dead ashes. As a result, they die of illness, but their spirits do not disperse and instead become evil spirits. Hence they are called ghost immortals. They remain bound to the realm of ghosts. Human immortals are those who practice cultivation but fail to understand the true Way and only use its superficial aspects. Those who abstain from food and drink do not realize the existence of the six vital energies; those who ignore the seven emotions do not know about the ten precepts.

Those who practice breathing exercises mistakenly believe they are doing something right; those who rely on tonics laugh at those who pursue purity, thinking them foolish. Those who seek feminine energy through sexual practices are different from those who practice alchemy. Those who feed on women’s milk are different from those who refine elixirs. Such people only succeed in mastering one technique or method within the true Way, allowing them to live longer in comfort. Hence they are called human immortals. They remain bound to the realm of humans. Earth immortals are halfway to becoming heavenly immortals; among divine immortals, they also only achieve minor accomplishments. They understand the interaction between yin and yang, comprehend the movements of dragons and tigers, and refine elixirs to achieve longevity. Hence they are called earth immortals. They remain bound to the earth. Divine immortals are those who, tired of living in the mortal world, achieve intermediate accomplishments...”

The method involves extracting lead and adding mercury, refining the essence of gold at the crown, turning jade liquid back into elixir, gathering the five energies toward the origin, concentrating the three yang energies at the crown—when this is accomplished, one forgets their physical form, undergoes self-transformation through gestation, with yin exhausted and yang pure. There exists a body beyond the physical body; by shedding one’s material form, one becomes an immortal, transcending the ordinary to reach the state of sainthood, renouncing the mortal world to return to the three islands. Hence they are called immortals. Immortals are inseparable from the divine. Those known as heavenly immortals are those who, tired of living on the three islands, attain the ultimate method—both internal and external alchemy are perfected, they have achievements in the path of Taoism and conduct worthy actions in the human world, with their efforts fully realized. They are granted heavenly scriptures to return to the celestial realms—these are the heavenly immortals. Heavenly immortals are inseparable from heaven. Yet, the key to cultivating immortality lies in alchemy. I have twenty-two poems titled “Songs of the Cave Immortals”; you should remember them carefully:

At the beginning of alchemy, the Supreme Lord imparted the method to the sage ruler; it originated from the five primordial forces before time. Those who practice it elevate their bodies through cultivation.

The ancestor of alchemy gave birth to the three elements that govern past and present; he hid among the mountains and marshes of Pohu Lake. Devout scholars came to serve as the mother of alchemy.

The father of alchemy flies up to the Fusang Tree at dawn; ten thousand rays of light illuminate the void. His skill in blending the essence of the hare allows him to create alchemy.

The mother of alchemy is pure and bright like gold crystals on the nights of the third and fifth days of the lunar month. The black hare struggles endlessly throughout the day, and from this comes an unparalleled great medicine.

The embryo of alchemy is formed from bird liver and hare essence, along with water, mercury, and sand. After four, five, or three stages, clarity arises naturally.

The sign of alchemy appears when an embryo forms after three days; a towering red light penetrates the constellations of Taurus, with the five tones and six rhythms playing at all times.

The nature of alchemy is a red and purple light that no one can recognize. It originates from nothingness, like millet grains or pearls—form is emptiness, and emptiness is form.

The spirit of alchemy emerges when the embryo is born after ten months. One pill taken lasts for a hundred days, allowing one’s form, bones, and body to be transformed and renewed.

In the realm of alchemy, after nine years of cultivation, one creates the Five-Cloud Cauldron; its medicinal power is akin to that of water and fire techniques, enabling withered bones to rise and lonely souls to awaken.

In the alchemy chamber, the upper string is set at seven divisions while the lower string at eight; a hollow space of one inch in the center is called the Mingtang, where spiritual seeds are produced to become golden liquid.

The alchemy pot must have a sturdy structure, with internal and external safeguards for water, fire, and metal; over time, it gives birth to ancient gold-like substances.

The alchemy stove resembles Penglai Island in its curved design; a protective enclosure is placed above it to safeguard the metal furnace, where dragon ointment and tiger brain are refined.

There are twelve periods in a day for alchemical work; both gentle and vigorous methods must be used appropriately, with careful control over addition and removal to avoid excess.

For alchemical water, the container should be chosen based on balance—neither too moist nor too excessive—to achieve harmony, allowing spiritual seeds to emerge and golden buds to form.

The power of the elixir shines with a red light that rivals that of the Purple Star; the seven stars shine brightly, and all beings in heaven and earth turn to it for guidance.

In alchemy, heaven, earth, and humanity each have their own mysteries; the Purple Star, Mount Yue, and wise rulers are connected, with spirits from all three realms turning to the path of truth.

The colors in alchemy are arranged according to specific patterns—green, red, black, white, and yellow positioned in the center—drawing auspicious energies and bringing good fortune.

To create elixirs, true earth, true lead, and true mercury are used; white is extracted from black, and green from red—everything depends on the subtle movement within stillness, driven by water and fire.

In alchemy, yin and yang combine through male and female elements; the essence of dragons and tigers is cooked in the cauldron, with nature’s forces carefully controlled to refine the process.

The principles of the elixir: its dragon’s balm and tiger’s marrow are incomparable; the two elements combine with the aid of polygonatum, enabling smooth progress and retreat throughout the entire process.

The auspiciousness of the elixir: it is small within yet vast without; it spreads throughout the six directions yet remains hidden within, gathering the treasures of the three realms within itself.

The perfection of the elixir: even the Jade Emperor requires divine favor to possess it; how could ordinary mortals ever obtain it? It is passed down only once every ten thousand kalpas.

The True Lord said, “Thank you very much for your explanation! May I ask, among the Five Immortals, which rank have you attained?” Lord Wu replied, “I am but a simple, ignorant man from the mountains and fields, with insufficient merit and practice. I have only achieved a minor level of success and am merely a local immortal. As for the higher ranks of immortals, though I know the path, I lack the strength to ascend.” He then handed over all the secrets of alchemy and the White Cloud talisman scriptures to the True Lord. The True Lord bowed deeply in gratitude and parted ways.

Returning home, he grew tired of living in the bustling city and wanted to find a famous mountain or scenic place to settle in. He heard that to the south there was a man named Guo Pu, styled Jingchun, who understood the arts of yin-yang and feng shui and traveled throughout the land. The True Lord went to visit him. One morning, Pu got up early and saw crows flying from the southeast. He cast a divination and declared, “At noon today, an immortal named Xu will come to my house to ask about choosing a residence.” At noon, the servant reported that the guest had arrived. Pu hurriedly went out to greet him. After exchanging greetings, they sat down. Pu asked, “Sir, aren’t you surnamed Xu? Have you come to choose a place to live?” The True Lord asked, “How do you know that?” Pu replied, “I cast a divination this morning—could it be true?” The True Lord confirmed it. Then he introduced himself and explained his intention of choosing a residence. Pu said, “Sir, you have a noble appearance and extraordinary features; you are not an ordinary person. A place of wealth and honor is not suitable for you. Is the place where you live now an immortal’s abode?” The True Lord replied, “In the past, Lü Dongbin became an immortal by living in the mountains, and Guiguzi attained enlightenment by living in the clouds. Could there be no such auspicious place now?” Pu said, “There is, but one must travel extensively to find it.”

So he ordered his servant to pack their belongings and traveled with the True Lord through various provinces in the south to search for famous mountains.

One day, as they reached a certain mountain, Pu said, “This mountain is majestic and towering, with lakes flowing eastward and purple clouds covering its peak. Over generations, it has produced immortals. But since the mountain’s nature is earth, and your surname is Xu—whose sound relates to water—earth and water oppose each other, so it is not suitable for living. It can only serve as a place for occasional visits.” Later, they arrived in Poyang, Raozhou, a place near a lake. Pu said, “This is a wealthy area by the lake, but it is not suitable for you.” The True Lord asked, “With the energy here dispersing with the wind, how could it possibly be extremely prosperous?” Pu replied, “In the art of site selection, the ‘eye of the Dao’ is the most important, followed by the ‘eye of the Dharma.’ The eye of the Dao…”

Those who rely on keen eyesight can discern the shapes of mountains and rivers; those with divine vision use celestial charts, the Purple Star, and other methods to determine the locations of mountains and rivers. Places of fortune, misfortune, wealth, and poverty are secrets kept by heaven and earth, protected by sacred spirits—those who are not destined for them cannot see them. As the saying goes, “Favorable lands are reserved for those worthy of blessings,” and this is exactly what it means.” The immortal said, “Now that there are such wonderful places here, why doesn’t the master leave some record as proof for future generations?” Guo Pu then composed a poem as a record, which read:

Having traveled through hundreds of provinces in the south,
Only by the lake lie rocks shaped like oxen.
Geese and swans cry at night to the beating drums;
Fish and turtles pay homage to the imperial crown each dawn.
The Dragon hides away, residing in the Qian direction;
The Xun River flows vigorously into the Gen stream.
Future generations of blessed people who find this place
Will enjoy wealth and prosperity for eight hundred autumns.

Xu and Guo left Poyang and continued on to the foot of Qiwu Mountain in Yichun. There lived a man named Wang Shuo, who was also skilled in the arts of the five elements and astrology. Seeing Xu and Guo climbing the mountain to select a site, he guessed they must be extraordinary people, so he invited them to his home. After learning their names, Shuo hosted them in the western pavilion with great hospitality. Moved by his sincerity, the immortal told him, “Your appearance is extraordinary; you can inherit my teachings.”

He then secretly imparted the secrets of immortality cultivation. Guo Pu said, “This place, with its beautiful mountains and waters, is suitable for building a Taoist temple as a place for cultivating the true self.” Wang Shuo agreed, and a temple was built. The immortal wrote the words “Yingxian Temple” on a plaque. Wang Shuo was overjoyed with gratitude. The two parted and continued on to West Mountain in Hongdu, known as Jintian. There they saw towering mountains, jagged peaks, lively green dragons, upright white tigers, round protective sand formations, and winding streams. On the mountains were lush pine trees, below were green bamboo shoots, in front were soft grasses, and behind were ancient twisted camphor trees. They heard the singing of colorful phoenixes, the cries of noble cranes, the roars of tigers, and the bleats of deer. This mountain was more magnificent than Tiantai in Zhejiang, more elegant than Wuyi in Fujian, more expansive than Jiuhua in Anhui, more beautiful than Emei in Sichuan, more distinctive than Wudang in Hubei, more ingeniously shaped than Zhongnan in Shaanxi, more winding than Mount Tai in Shandong, and more majestic than Luofu in Guangdong. It was truly a unique and unparalleled landscape, the finest mountain in Jiangxi—a place where the essence of eternity resided, clearly a dwelling for immortals.

As for Master Guo Pu, when he reached the foot of the mountain, he observed carefully in all directions, set his compass, determined the orientation, and then laughed heartily, saying, “I have surveyed many sites, but none as wonderful as this! If one seeks wealth…”

If it is noble, then there will be periods of activity and rest; if one wishes to live in seclusion, it is highly suitable for an immortal’s way of life. Observing its rounded hills and deep valleys, with three peaks standing upright and clouds surrounding it on all sides, both inside and outside forming a perfect fit—everything is ideally suited. In assessing a location, one must also consider the person living there; observing this gentleman’s inner and outer qualities shows they match well with the land. Moreover, the Western Mountain belongs to the element of metal. According to the five tones, this gentleman’s surname corresponds to the water tone. Metal can generate water, thus creating a favorable condition for longevity. There is no other place suitable except this one. But I wonder who owns this land?” A woodcutter nearby pointed out, “This land belongs to Elder Jin.” The immortal said, “Since he is called an elder, he must surely be a good person.”

Two men went to build a house there. Master Jin welcomed them gladly, as if it were a long-awaited visit. Master Jin asked, “Sirs, where have you come from?” Guo Pu replied, “I am Guo Pu. I have some knowledge of yin-yang principles. My friend Xu Sun, who also practices the Way, is looking for a place to live in seclusion. By chance, this place is perfectly suitable for an immortal’s dwelling, so we want to build a house here for cultivation. I wonder if you would be willing to grant us this land?” Master Jin said, “I’m afraid this land is too small to accommodate Mr. Xu. If you don’t mind, I’ll give you several acres of my humble land.” The immortal asked, “What is your price? I’ll follow your instructions.” Master Jin replied, “A true man’s word is worth more than ten thousand gold pieces. I’m simple and honest; I’ve never used written contracts in my life.” He then gave the immortal a large coin, broke it in half, kept half for himself, and gave the other half back to the immortal. The immortal bowed in gratitude. The three of them parted ways. Then the immortal bid farewell to Guo Pu, chose an auspicious day, and moved his parents, wife, and children—totaling dozens of people—to the Western Mountain, where they built a house and settled down. Master Jin was later appointed as the local official in charge of the land. Master Jin’s residence is what is now known as the Yulong Wanshou Palace. As for the immortal, he devoted himself to cultivation every day, producing elixirs that could turn stones into gold and prolong life by preventing aging. He helped those in need, spreading virtue and righteousness throughout the land.

At that time, Emperor Wu of Jin pacified Shu in the west and conquered Wu in the east, unifying the whole country under the Tai Kang era. Following the recommendation of the Minister of Personnel, Shan Tao, the emperor ordered all provinces to recommend virtuous and capable individuals. Fan Ning, the governor of Yuzhang Province, saw that the immortal cared for his parents with great filial piety, lived in harmony with others, and was generous and helpful. So he recommended the immortal as a virtuous and capable individual. Emperor Wu sent envoys with gifts and an imperial edict, appointing the immortal as the magistrate of Jingyang County in Shu Province. But since his parents were old, the immortal couldn’t bear to leave them and submitted a petition to decline the position. Emperor Wu refused and ordered the local governor to urge him to take up the post. The next year, the immortal had no choice but to bid farewell to his parents and family and set off on his journey. The immortal had two sisters. His older sister served Lord Mian of Nanchang. Her husband died early, leaving behind a son named Mian Lie, whose given name was Daowei. He was extremely filial to his mother. Concerned that his sister might be left unsupported as a widow, the immortal built a house to the west of their residence for her to live in. Thus, both mother and son came to know the profound teachings of the Way. Before leaving, the immortal said to his sister, “My parents are old, and my family still doesn’t understand worldly affairs. You should take care of household matters in my place. If any immortals or recluses visit, treat them with respect. Your son Mian Lie has admirable virtues of kindness and filial piety. I’ll take him with me to my post.” Mian’s mother said, “Go ahead and serve as an official. I’ll take care of everything at home. There’s no need for you to worry.”

Before he could finish speaking, suddenly a young man entered the hall, bowed deeply, and said, “My brother Mianlie and I are both your nephews. Why do you go with Brother Mian alone and not include me?” The sage looked at him and saw that he was the son of his second sister, with the double surname Zhongli, named Jia with the courtesy name Gongyang, from Xiangya Mountain in Xinjian County. His parents had passed away early, and since childhood he had lived under the care of the sage. He was a man of grand bearing and gentle virtues, and now wished to accompany the sage. The sage agreed. Thus, the two nephews were influenced by his teachings and developed the qualities of immortals from then on. The sage also called his wife, Lady Zhou, and told her, “I originally had no desire for fame or rank, but the imperial court keeps inviting me. If I refuse, I fear I’ll be disobeying the emperor’s orders. Since ancient times, it has been impossible to fulfill both loyalty and filial duty. Your parents are old; you must serve them day and night, taking care of them through cold and heat, and fulfill your duties as a daughter-in-law! Moreover, with children still young, you must constantly teach them, manage the household diligently, and live frugally—these are your natural responsibilities.”

Lady Zhou replied, “I will heed your advice carefully!” After saying this, she bowed and left, and there was nothing further to discuss.

It is said that at the beginning of the sage’s tenure, there was famine in Shu, and the people were too poor to pay taxes. When the sage took office, his superiors imposed strict demands. So the sage used magic pills to turn tiles and stones into gold, secretly having them buried in the garden behind the county office. One day, he gathered all those poor people who couldn’t pay their taxes and brought them before him. The sage asked, “Why haven’t you paid the taxes demanded by the court?” The poor people replied, “It is our duty to pay taxes to the state; how dare we fail to do so? But due to the famine, we are unable to pay.” The sage said, “In that case, I will punish you by making you dig ponds in the garden behind the county office as labor. If you find any gold, you can use it to pay your taxes.” The people were overjoyed and went to dig ponds in the garden, where they indeed found gold and were able to pay their taxes, thus avoiding suffering from displacement. People from neighboring counties heard of this and came to seek refuge there, increasing the population. According to the “Yitong Zhi,” Jingyang County was part of Hanshou. After the sage ascended to immortality, it was renamed Deyang to honor his virtue and the people. Thanks to the sage’s transformation of stones into gold, that region remains prosperous to this day. Enough about that.

At that time, there was also an epidemic among the people, causing countless deaths. Wherever the sage’s talismans reached, people were instantly healed. He also felt pity for those sick in other counties, so he planted bamboo markers along the streams around the area, burned talismans inside them, and had the sick drink from them—everyone was cured. For those who were too old, weak, or sickly to go there themselves, he sent people to fetch water for them to drink at home, and they too recovered. A local poet praised him with these lines:

“Over a hundred miles, mulberry fields bear witness to wise governance;
In thousands of homes, smoke rises under the benevolent breeze.
The bright sun shines like algae under autumn light;
The clear moonlight melts like ice in a bottle at night.
Talismans placed by the river drive away chronic illnesses;
Gold buried in the garden lifts the poor from hardship.
The sage’s virtue endures to this day;
His temples stand tall in tribute to his merits.”

Now, there was a man in Chengdu Prefecture named Chen Xun, with the courtesy name Xiaojǔ. He had passed the examination for becoming a filial official and held the position of Deputy Governor of Yizhou. Hearing that the sage had passed on the Daoist teachings of Wu Meng and was now governing Jingyang, bringing benefits to the people, he came to pay his respects and wished to join him.

He was appointed as a clerk so that he could constantly learn the profound teachings. The True Lord, seeing his pure aura and healthy complexion, assigned him an official position.

Later, noticing that Xun had the qualities of a sage, the True Lord took him as a disciple and had him guard the medicine stove. There was also another man named Zhou Lu Guang, with the courtesy name Hui Chang, from Ling. He was a descendant of Zhou Yu, the governor of Wu. While traveling in the Yuntai Mountains of Bashu, he roughly learned the methods of expelling evil spirits taught by the Han Dynasty’s celestial masters.

Hearing that the True Lord had mastered the ways of immortality, he went to Jingyang County specifically to pay homage to the True Lord as his teacher, hoping to receive his guidance.

The True Lord accepted him and assigned him to oversee the thunder altar. From then on, both of them were able to understand the wonders of the path to immortality. After staying in Jingyang for some time, the True Lord had many disciples. Whenever he had free time, he would discuss the teachings with them.

It is said that during the long period of peace in the Jin Dynasty, the Five Hu tribes became powerful and caused chaos in the Central Plains. Who were these Five Hu tribes? The Xiongnu led by Liu Yuan resided in Jinyang; the Jie led by Shi Le lived in Shangdang; the Qiang led by Yao Yizhong inhabited Fufeng; the Di led by Fu Hong resided in Linwei; and the Xianbei led by Murong Chao lived in Changli.

Since the Han and Wei dynasties, the Chinese had subdued various barbarian tribes, and most of them lived within the borders. Jiang Tong, who served as the crown prince’s advisor, advised Emperor Wu to relocate them to the border areas to prevent future chaos caused by these tribes. Emperor Wu did not listen, and indeed those tribes later invaded the Jin Dynasty. Emperor Hui was foolish, and Empress Jia was tyrannical, killing many high officials. The True Lord then said to his disciples, “I have heard that a gentleman appears when there is righteousness, and disappears when there is none.” So he resigned from his position and returned eastward. When the people heard this, they stopped their carriages and lay down on the roads to stop him, their cries shaking the ground. The True Lord also wept and said to his people, “It is not that I wish to leave you; but since chaos will soon arise in the world, I am taking this as a way to protect myself. You all should focus on making a living!” The people, unable to bear to part with him, escorted him for a hundred miles, or even several hundred miles, with some even accompanying him to their homes and refusing to let him go back. When the True Lord returned home, he met with his parents and spouse, and the whole family rejoiced greatly. He immediately built a thatched hut on an open area east of his house, shaped like a fortress, and allowed the people from Shu to live there. Many of these people changed their surnames to match the True Lord’s surname, hence it was called the Xu Clan Camp.

It is said that the True Lord’s wife, Lady Zhou, said to him, “You are getting older; it’s time to find a suitable spouse.”

The True Lord replied, “I have been thinking about this for a long time.” After examining all his disciples, he found one named Huang Renlan, with the courtesy name Ziting, from Jiancheng. He was the son of Huang Fu, the chief censor. This man was loyal, trustworthy, and pure-hearted, possessing the aptitude to receive the teachings. The True Lord then asked his disciple Zhou Guang to act as the matchmaker. Renlan informed his parents, chose an auspicious day, prepared the necessary rituals, and got married at the True Lord’s residence. A month later, he reported to the True Lord and returned home with his bride to visit their families.

The immortal woman fulfilled her duties as a wife to the utmost. Renlan instructed her to stay at home and serve her mother-in-law, then she bid farewell to her parents and respectfully followed the true immortal to learn the ways of immortality.

It is said that Wu Zhenjun was already over 120 years old at that time. Upon hearing that the true immortal had returned home, he came from Xi’an to visit him. The true immortal got dressed neatly to greet him, and after sitting down and chatting, he ordered a room to be built to the west of the house for Wu Zhenjun to live in. One day, a fierce storm suddenly arose. Wu Zhenjun wrote an incantation and threw it on the roof; shortly thereafter, a blue bird came and carried it away, and the wind ceased immediately. The true immortal asked, “What fortune or misfortune does this wind signify?” Wu Zhenjun replied, “There was a boat passing by South Lake when this wind hit. There was a Taoist priest on board who cried out for help to the heavens. I stopped this wind with this incantation.” A few days later, a man wearing dark clothes and a large sash, with a headscarf, entered and greeted the two immortals, saying, “My surname is Peng, my given name is Kang, and my courtesy name is Wuyang. I am from Lanling. From a young age, I was recognized as a filial and honest official, and I rose to the position of Left Assistant Minister in the Jin Dynasty. Seeing that the world was about to fall into chaos, I resigned on account of illness. Having heard that Mr. Xu practiced virtue and wisdom and understood the secrets of immortality, I came here specifically to become his disciple. Yesterday, while passing by South Lake, a violent storm arose, and the boat almost capsized. I cried out for help to the heavens, and soon a blue bird flew over, stopping the wind. It is truly a great fortune to be able to meet you today!” The true immortal then told him about the incident with the incantation written by Wu Zhenjun. Peng Kang thanked him profusely and then took his family back to Yuzhang City. Later, seeing that the true immortal had an unmarried son, he wanted to give his daughter, Shengniang, in marriage to him. The true immortal agreed. From then on, he treated Peng Kang with the respect due to a guest and taught him all the secret arts of immortals. Dongmingzi wrote a poem:

“A high-ranking official’s position is not easy to abandon; yet one day he gives it up to enter the court of immortals. Had it not been for the deep kinship, how could Old Peng have ascended?”

At that time, the true immortal had mastered Wu Meng’s magical arts but had not yet passed on the method of using flying steps to slay evil spirits. Taibai Jinxing reported to the Jade Emperor, “A malevolent dragon in Nanchang Prefecture is causing harm to the people. Now, Xu Sun, who is originally a true immortal from the Jade Cave, should subdue this creature. I request that an angel be sent with the divine sword for slaying demons, to be given to Xu Sun to help eliminate the evil spirit and protect the common people.” Upon hearing this, the Jade Emperor summoned two maidens who brought two divine swords to the place called Bolin and presented them to Xu Sun, instructing him to slay demons and save the world. The true immortal accepted them with thanks, then looked back at the maidens—who had already ascended to the clouds. Later, someone wrote a poem lamenting:

“Hardened metal and fierce fire are refined until complete; shining brightly like the sun. The jade maidens bring it away from the Purple Palace; from then on, the rivers and lakes are filled with blood.”

Now, in the south of the Yangtze River, there was a demonic creature known as the “Malevolent Dragon.” When it first appeared in the world, it was a clever and talented man named Zhang Ku. While crossing the river by boat, a strong wind arose, causing the boat to capsize. Zhang Ku drowned in the water, but at that moment...

A plank was attached and drifted with the current, ending up on the beach. Feeling hungry, he suddenly saw a precious pearl and took it to swallow. That pearl was nothing other than an egg laid by the fire dragon. After swallowing it, he was no longer hungry and could swim in the water. More than a month passed, and his body transformed completely, covered in scales; he still had only one head, which remained human-like. From then on, this creature could only play in the water—either leaping into huge waves to watch fish and dragons transform, or crashing into deep pools to observe shrimp and turtles swimming. When the fire dragon saw him, it recognized him as its son, blew a breath at him, and taught him magical powers. Once on land, this creature could transform in countless ways, summoning wind and rain, creating mist and clouds. When happy, it would take human form and seduce women on earth; when angry, it would turn into a monster and cause turmoil on land—destroying houses, devouring people’s life force, capsizing boats, and stealing gold and pearls, becoming a great threat to humanity. It had six sons, and over several decades their numbers grew to over a thousand. Together with their numerous kin, they often tried to turn several counties in Jiangxi into a vast sea.

One day, as the immortal was refining elixirs on a mountain in Aicheng, a group of dragons caused floods in an attempt to wash away his alchemy chamber. The immortal became furious and sent his divine soldiers to capture them, pinning them to stone walls—those stones are still there today. He also raised his sacred sword and slew one of the dragons. But the evil dragon, knowing that its kin had been killed, called together all its followers, old and young, large and small, forming a single group. The evil dragon said, “Xu Xun is so detestable! He wants to destroy my kin. If I don’t avenge this, living is meaningless!” Among them were some who called the evil dragon “uncle” or “brother,” saying, “No need to worry. Let us go capture Xu Xun and tear him to pieces to satisfy our hatred.” The evil dragon replied, “I’ve heard that Xu Xun has learned Wu Meng’s magic arts and is very powerful. We need someone strong too.” One long snake spirit said, “Brother, let me go.” The evil dragon agreed. So the long snake spirit led a hundred or so dragons to Xu’s house, lining up in a row and shouting, “Xu Xun, dare you challenge us?” Seeing them as a group of dragons, the immortal, holding his sword, asked, “What powers do you have, you wretched creatures, that you dare to compare with me?” The long snake spirit said, “Listen to me:

With scales and ridges, your presence is mighty,
Your magical powers shine brightly.
Once you open your throat, you can swallow an elephant;
After three years, you’ll transform into a dragon.
When you open your huge mouth, it turns into mist;
When you raise your tall head, you summon wind.
Do you know how long your body is? It circles around Kunlun’s highest peak.”

Relying on its powers, the long snake spirit acted arrogantly, and all the dragons cheered, shouting, “You shouldn’t have killed my kin! We won’t let this go!” The immortal said, “I’m afraid you wretched creatures can’t escape my sacred sword.” Then the long snake spirit used its powers, summoning a strong wind.

Look: unseen when viewed, but heard when audible—ah, the roar of nature’s fury, echoing through every crack and fissure. Let it bang, boom, crash, thunder loudly; it shakes the heavens and stirs the earth’s axis. Even the immortals in the nine heavens frown in worry. What does it matter if it’s green, white, red, or yellow? It churns the seas and disturbs the Yangtze River; even the dragon kings of the four seas shrink back in fear. Thunder rumbles, lightning flashes; sand flies through the air, stones roll along—everything is covered in dust as if spring has arrived early. Clouds loom darkly, mist rises thickly; even tall trees are broken, let alone ancient ones. What’s the use of talking about lights in the villages that stay lit late at night? Suddenly, there’s shouting all around, people running left and right—even the nine-tiered dragon palaces and phoenix towers have their tiles flying off. The wind rushes wildly, swirling and dragging everything along, just like a den full of tigers and wolves. How can it possibly be stingy?

Even if one has great ambitions, one shouldn’t claim to be able to ride such winds and break through countless layers of obstacles. Though Liezi was calm and composed, I’ve never seen him control such winds for fifteen days straight. Truly:

For miles, dust and sand darken the sky; how many doors are being knocked on? Why break the willows by the pavilions, and why tear down the thatched roofs of the village houses?

What a fierce wind! The immortal holds his sword in hand and shouts, “Wind gods, please stop this wind!” In no time, the wind ceases completely. But those evil spirits bring about heavy rain instead: stone swallows fly around, and sheep dance in the wind. Rain pours down from the clouds like a deluge; it comes suddenly from the sky, not to relieve drought. It whips through the gardens, tearing up the leaves—here and there, the greenery disappears. It drips onto the lotus flowers in the ponds, making their petals fall one after another, ruining their beauty. The ditches overflow, and in an instant, the wheat in front of the palace floats away. Water streams down from the eaves, washing away the soldiers outside King Wu’s camp. This isn’t the gentle rain prayed for in the blue sky—it’s rather like spittle spat out by whales in the vast ocean. Truly:

In thatched cottages, the flames are dim; in the pear-blossom courtyards, dreams are disturbed. Rivers become muddy, allowing fish to enter; lush moss slows down the movement of cranes.

What a heavy rain! The immortal again holds his sword and shouts, “Rain gods, please stop this rain!” In an instant, the rain vanishes completely. Then the immortal displays his great powers, rushing into the ranks of the snake spirit and swinging his two precious swords, splitting the snake spirit in two. Seeing the snake spirit killed, those evil creatures flee for their lives. The immortal chases after them and destroys them all. He then goes to where the dragons are, searching for the evil dragon.

Hearing that the serpent spirit had been slain and many of its followers injured, the evil dragon refused to give up! It gathered a group of about a thousand or so dragon spirits. With their numerous voices, they cursed the immortal, saying, “You wretched heretic! You have no right to come here and harass people!” Then some summoned wind, some called for rain, some created mist, some raised clouds, some produced smoke, and some kindled fire—all rushing forward together. The immortal swung his two precious swords left and right, but with so many dragon spirits, how could he subdue them all? Moreover, at that time the immortal still did not know the technique of making his mother fly; he was merely an earthly immortal. The evil dragon, capable of transformation, soared into the clouds and turned into a giant eagle. Its claws were sharp as copper nails, its beak strong as an iron drill. It spread its wings ready to fly, resembling a great roc. Its cries echoed loudly in the clouds, and it stood tall at the edge of the forests. All birds hid away; none dared to confront it.

The eagle spread its wings in midair and suddenly dove down, scratching the immortal’s face so badly that blood flowed everywhere. The immortal quickly swung his sword, but the eagle flew back up into the sky. Having no other choice, the immortal returned home. Seeing that many of their followers had been killed, those dragon spirits also withdrew.

The immortal, realizing the evil dragon’s great powers, went to see Lord Wu to seek advice on how to defeat it. Lord Wu said, “That evil dragon has long caused harm to the people. I’ve always wanted to get rid of it, but unfortunately my magical skills aren’t advanced enough to defeat it. Now that you’ve defeated its followers, the evil dragon will surely become even more enraged and cause greater destruction in the south of the river!” The immortal asked, “What should we do then?” Lord Wu replied, “I’ve heard recently that in Danyang County, Zhenjiang Prefecture, there is a woman named Chan Mu who possesses profound magical knowledge. Let’s go together to learn from her and seek her wisdom. It’s not too late to eliminate this monster.” Overjoyed by this, the immortal packed his things and went with Lord Wu to Huangtang to meet Chan Mu. Chan Mu asked, “Who are you two? What brings you here?” The immortal replied, “I am Xu Sun, and this is Wu Meng. There is an evil dragon spirit in the south of the river that causes great harm to the people. We both wish to destroy it, but our magical skills are insufficient. We’ve long heard that your teachings reach the highest levels and that your magic predates all else. We come to earnestly ask for your guidance; it is our greatest wish in life.” After speaking, they bowed to the ground. Chan Mu said, “Please rise, gentlemen. Listen to what I have to say: You both were born with extraordinary qualities, destined for greatness in the heavens. In ancient times, the King of Filial Piety descended from the Upper Clarity to Lan Gong’s home in Qufu County, Shandong. He told Lan Gong, ‘In future generations, during the Jin Dynasty, there will emerge a sage named Xu Sun who will inherit my teachings and become the leader of all immortals.’ He left behind golden elixirs, bronze talismans, iron decrees, as well as the technique of cutting through evil forces. He also instructed Lan Gong to pass these on to me, and Lan Gong in turn entrusted them to me, waiting for you two—now for over four hundred years.”

“Now that you’re here, I shall impart this knowledge to you.” So he chose an auspicious day, conducted the rituals as prescribed, and gave him copper talismans, iron vouchers, golden elixirs, precious seals, as well as the proper methods for exorcising evil spirits, the art of flying, various secret formulas, and all kinds of talismans—everything was passed on to Lord Xu. The Pure Light Method and the Five Thunder Methods were all taught by Mother Chan. Mother Chan also said to Lord Wu, “In the past, you served as Lord Xu’s teacher through divine remedies. Now, the way of filial piety and fraternal respect can only be passed on by Lord Xu; you should step back and become his student again.”

After the True Lord had finished imparting the teachings, he was about to leave. In his heart he thought, “I’m fortunate to have heard Mother Chan’s teachings now; I must pay homage to her every year to fulfill my duties as a disciple.” Before these thoughts could be expressed in words, Mother Chan already knew them. She then said to the True Lord, “I am returning to the emperor now; you need not come to pay your respects anymore.” She took a stem of fragrant grass and threw it toward the south; the grass floated away on the wind. Mother Chan said to the True Lord, “A few dozen miles south of where you live, see where the fragrant grass lands. Build my temple there. Once a year in autumn, coming to my temple will suffice.” As soon as she spoke, a dragon chariot and phoenix carriage appeared in the sky to take her away. At that moment, Lords Wu and Xu bowed to her in the air before returning to their own areas. They then went to search for the spot where the fragrant grass had landed. Forty miles south of West Mountain, they found it—thick and lush. The two lords built a shrine there, naming it Huangtang. They ordered craftsmen to create an image of Mother Chan and kept offering incense, planning to pay their respects on the third day of the eighth month. This is the Chongzhen Temple today, and the tradition of paying respects still continues. The True Lord also set up an altar in Huangtang and, following Mother Chan’s instructions, passed on these teachings to Lord Wu. Lord Wu then bowed to the True Lord as his teacher. From then on, the two of them possessed the art of flying and transforming.

Returning to Xiaojiang, they stayed at an inn. The innkeeper, Mr. Song, seeing such a noble sage, did not ask for payment for wine and treated them generously. Grateful for his kindness, the two lords asked for pen and ink to draw a pine tree on the wall before leaving. After they left, the pine tree remained green and lush, its branches swaying in the wind, its color fading under the moonlight, and its leaves becoming damp from the dew. Thousands of people came to watch it every day. Those who visited left money as thanks, and Mr. Song became very wealthy. Later, when the river flooded and broke its banks, all the buildings were washed away except for the wall with the pine tree.

Meanwhile, the evil dragon spirit, whose clan had been slain by the True Lord, was filled with rage. Hearing that Lord Wu had gone to Huangtang to learn the teachings from the True Lord, it ordered its minions to invade Lord Wu’s area first, harming the people and bringing disaster. When the True Lord returned to Xining and heard about the evil winds caused by those demons, he rebuked the local spirit official, “You are the ruler of the gods and spirits in this county—how could you allow them to cause harm?” The spirit official replied, “Those demons possess great magical powers; even a minor god cannot control them.” He apologized repeatedly. Suddenly, the evil dragon spirit saw the True Lord arrive, gathered its minions, and created waves over ten feet high. The water surged violently—what a terrifying sight!

Only the sound of rushing water could be heard throughout the valley, and its mighty flow seemed to reach the sky. Its force was like thunder in motion, with waves surging like snowflakes tumbling down. Waves hundreds of feet high submerged roads, while countless layers of foam battered the rocks. It sounded cold, as if washing jade, and turbulent, like strings being plucked. When it struck the rocks, it shattered them like jade; the swirling currents formed circular vortices. The surface was uneven, rising and falling with the current, with its immense force spreading everywhere.

When the immortal saw such a massive flood, fearing it might damage people’s houses and crops, he quickly drew his precious sword, wrote an incantation in the air, and shouted, “Water Lord, retreat your waters at once!” The Water Lord delayed retreating the water, angering the immortal greatly. The Water Lord said, “As the saying goes, it’s hard to control flooding—please be patient!” The immortal wanted to reprimand him, but the Water Lord, terrified, quickly withdrew the water, restoring the land to its normal state.

The immortal then raised his sword and slashed at the evil dragon. The dragon transformed into a sea-demon warrior who faced him with a spear. It was a fierce battle: the immortal’s sword struck, while the demon’s spear met it head-on. The sword’s strike sent out flames like frost, while the spear’s thrust released clouds of sorrowful energy. One was an evil creature born from the Yangzi River, the other an immortal sent from the Lingxiao Palace. One sought to defy heaven’s laws with his might, while the other aimed to suppress chaos and restore order. The immortal used his magical body to disperse the mist, while the demon struggled to advance through the waves. Both fought hard for glory, all for the sake of the millions of people in Hongdu.

Seeing the evil dragon and the immortal engaged in fierce combat, the dragon’s allies rushed forward to help. Suddenly, they created a storm of strange sand, trying to blind the immortal. It looked like mist or smoke spreading everywhere, obscuring everything below. The white haze made it impossible to see clearly, and in the darkness, it was hard to find one’s way. Woodcutters lost their companions, and herb-gathering immortals couldn’t find their homes. The sand was fine as wheat flour yet rough as sesame seeds. The world became hazy, with mountains shrouded in darkness and the sun hidden from view. It wasn’t like dust carried by fast horses, nor could it be compared to soft materials lining fragrant carriages. This sand, though lifeless, instantly caused blinding pain in the eyes.

At that moment, the sandstorm intensified, and the dragon’s allies cheered loudly. The immortal exhaled a puff of divine energy, turning it into a strong wind that blew the sand away. Lord Wu, standing on a high ridge, observed that the demons possessed even greater magical powers. So he summoned the fierce thunder from his palm and sent it skyward. Although wind, clouds, thunder, and rain were things the dragons favored, this was Lord Wu’s magical thunder, designed specifically to defeat demons. As it roared through the clouds, it was terrifying, with a sound heard far and wide. It ignited the fierce fire of Immortal Xie and made the wheels of Ah Xiang’s chariot turn. The sound was deafening, like drums shaking the four corners of the world, heard throughout heaven and earth. It was also like cannons firing from all directions, echoing through the military camps. It made Lord Liu lose his chopsticks and forced Cai Yuanzhong to wander around lonely graves. No one could bear to hear it, and everyone was terrified upon encountering it. Truly, the power of the immortal’s hands was awe-inspiring, while the hearts of the dragon demons trembled with fear!

Those evil creatures, upon hearing this thunderous roar and the fierce wrath that shook the heavens and mountains, were terrified beyond measure. They saw the two precious swords of the immortal, shining with a cold light and radiating murderous intent. Unable to withstand them, the evil dragon reverted to its yaksha form, transformed into some unknown creature, and fled secretly. The immortal then abandoned the evil dragon and pursued the gang of dragons, who scattered in all directions.

The immortal chased the two dragons to Ezhu, where they suddenly disappeared. Along the way, he encountered three old men standing there. The immortal asked, “I’ve pursued these evil dragons here, but I’ve lost their trace. Have you three seen them?” The old men pointed and said, “They are hiding under the bridge ahead.” Hearing this, the immortal went to the side of the bridge and shouted at them with his sword drawn. The gang of dragons was terrified and rushed into the river, hiding in the depths. The immortal then wrote several talismans and sent them to drive them away. Unable to hide any longer, the evil dragons emerged from upstream. The immortal slashed them with his sword, turning the river water red. These two dragons were actually offspring of the evil dragon. Today, there is a temple dedicated to the Three Holy Kings at Ezhu; the bridge is called Fulong Bridge, the deep pool is called Longwo, and the place where the dragons were slain is called Shanglongkou. The immortal then returned to Xining. Angered that the local deity failed in his duties, he locked the entrance to its shrine with copper chains, prohibiting people from offering sacrifices there. Now, the main gate of the city god’s temple in Fening County remains closed, and few residents offer sacrifices there. Instead, the people are ordered to worship lesser deities—three brothers surnamed Mao, who were those who guided the immortal to slay the dragons under the bridge. They are now honored as Marquis Ye You, and their worship is very widespread. The immortal said to Lord Wu, “The evil dragon has fled, and its gang has scattered. I want to search everywhere for their traces and exterminate them all.” Lord Wu replied, “You’ve come all the way to Jinling. Please let your parents rest for now. I believe these dragons, with their master still around, won’t dare be so rampant again. We can deal with them gradually.”

So the two immortals returned to Miao Zhen Cave in Fengcheng County. The immortal said, “From now on, dragons and serpents will surely enter and exit this cave. I must suppress them.” He took a large fir tree, inscribed talismans on it, and used it as a wedge. To this day, that wedge remains intact. They then passed through Fengxin County, where there was a stream named Cangxi, also known as the Dragon’s Cave, with water that never dried up. The immortal said, “This stream is where the dragon hides.” He then used his divine sword to break a huge rock beside the stream and inscribed talismans on it to suppress it. To this day, the rock used for suppression still exists. They then passed through Xinjian County, where there was a lake called Tanzao Lake. There were many leeches in the lake, all of which were slaves of the dragon gang, spreading throughout the fields to drink human blood. The immortal hated this, so he threw a pill into the lake, and the leeches disappeared forever. That lake is now called Medicine Lake. They then returned to the city, went back to their residence on West Mountain, and reunited with their parents. The whole family rejoiced, and there’s no need to elaborate further.

It is said that as the immortal repeatedly defeated the evil dragon, his supernatural powers grew even more evident, and his virtue became renowned throughout the world. At that time, thousands of people across the land sought to become his disciples, but he refused them all. Instead, he turned charcoal into hundreds of beautiful women, who at night infiltrated the dormitories of his disciples. The next morning, only ten of the disciples had not been defiled by these charcoal women. The first six disciples were: Chen Xun, styled Xiaoju, from Chengdu; and Zhou Guang, styled Huichang, from Ling.

Huang Renlan, styled Ziting, was from Jiancheng. He was the son-in-law of the True Lord.

Peng Kang, styled Wuyang, was from Lanling. His daughter was married to the True Lord’s son. Mian Lie, styled Daowei, was from Nanchang. He was the True Lord’s nephew.

Zhong Li Jia, styled Gongyang, was from Xinjian. He was also the True Lord’s nephew.

There were four followers who later accompanied the True Lord:

Zeng Heng, styled Dianguo, was from Sishui. He had a delicate appearance and great wisdom; Sun Deng was impressed by him. He then devoted himself to studying Taoism, traveled around the south of the Yangtze River, and lived at Zhenyang Temple in Fengcheng, Yuzhang.

Hearing of the True Lord’s teachings, he went to serve under him.

He Shi, styled Daoyang, was from Julu. He became a monk at a young age and lived at Fengxian Temple in Muyang, East Sea, where he practiced the teachings of Laozi. Later, he went to Siming Mountain where a divine being taught him the art of prenatal breathing and qigong. He was able to fast for long periods and even command ghosts and spirits. Impressed by the True Lord’s reputation, he walked all the way to seek to become his disciple.

Gan Zhan, styled Bowu, was from Fengcheng. He loved practicing Taoism and did not seek fame or status; instead, he directly learned Taoism from the True Lord.

Shi Cen, styled Taiyu, was from Pei Commandery. His father, Shi Shuo, served under the Wu state, so the family moved to Chiwu County in Jiujiang.

Shi Cen had a heroic appearance and was brave and strong. Hearing of the True Lord’s feats of slaying dragons, he happily followed him. The True Lord assigned him and Gan Zhan to carry divine swords and always stay at his side.

These ten disciples were not influenced by the Charcoal Woman. The True Lord appreciated this, and whenever he traveled around the rivers and lakes, slaying dragons and snakes, they always accompanied him. Those who were influenced by the Charcoal Woman often felt ashamed and left. The market owned by the Charcoal Woman still exists today. The True Lord said to Shi Cen and Mian Lie, “Nowadays, evil spirits cause harm in many forms, with no fixed pattern. You two can go to Poyang Lake to search for them.” Shi Cen and Mian Lie gladly accepted the task and set off with their swords. At night, they arrived at Poyang Lake and climbed onto a stone platform to look around. There is now a viewing platform at the mouth of the Rao River, commonly called the Fishing Platform, but that is not correct. This was actually the place where Shi Cen and Mian Lie watched for the evil mirages. At that time, they saw something that resembled a snake, with its head raised and tail swaying, stretching for dozens of miles. Shi Cen asked, “Is the evil creature here?” He immediately drew his sword and slashed its waist.

By dawn the next day, upon looking again, it turned out to be Centipede Mountain. To this day, the mountain remains split in two, with traces of the immortal still visible there. Shi Cen said to Mian Lie, “Last night I mistook this mountain for some monstrous creature; I was wrong. We must still make every effort to search for it.”

Meanwhile, the evil dragon was defeated by the True Lord, and in the process, two of his sons along with many of his kin were injured. Gnashing his teeth in hatred toward the True Lord, he gathered his kin to discuss going to Little Aunt Pond to seek revenge from the old dragon.

The group of dragons said, “That’s great.” The evil dragon then rushed to the depths of Little Aunt Pond. No one knew just how deep it was; as the saying goes, “Big Aunt Pond is vast, but Little Aunt Pond is even deeper.” That’s why it’s called Little Aunt Pond. When the evil dragon reached the bottom of the pond, he saw water covering the sky, waves crashing against the shore. In the middle of the river lay Little Aunt Mountain, serving as a pillar of strength; below the river was the Old Dragon Pond, resembling an eternal dragon palace. The palace was covered with greenish-blue mandarin duck tiles, surrounded by shimmering peacock screens, adorned with sparse emerald curtains, and furnished with curved tiger-skin chairs.

There, the old dragon sat on the tiger chair, dragon maidens served below, dragon soldiers surrounded the palace, Yakshas stood by the door, and dragon sons and grandsons lined up on the steps. It was truly a unique scene in the heart of the river, the foremost among all aquatic palaces.

As for the origin of the old dragon, he originally rode on the Yellow Emperor during the time when the cauldron was forged on Jing Mountain. In heaven, he became addicted to poison, so the Nine Heavens Goddess handed him over to the Venerable Luo Daxia. The Venerable raised him in a bowl for thousands of years. His addiction to poison never changed, and when he descended to the mortal world, he ate Zhang Guolao’s donkey and injured King Mu of Zhou’s eight fine horses. Zhu Manxi, filled with resentment, learned the art of slaying dragons and intended to attack him. The dragon then hid in someone’s backyard garden among oranges in Bashu. Those two old men playing chess wanted to use him as dragon meat, so he moved to Ge Pi, where he was struck by Fei Changfang. Enduring the pain, he fled to Huayang Cave. But he didn’t realize that Wu Zhuo’s axe was even more deadly; one strike dealt him severe harm. Although his head wasn’t broken, he lost the precious pearl at his neck and could no longer return to heaven. Thus, he bowed to the young girl and obtained this deeply submerged pond to build a magnificent dragon palace.

Meanwhile, the evil dragon rushed into the dragon palace, bowed before the old dragon, and cried bitterly, recounting everything that had happened. He said that Xu Sun had killed his sons, injured his kin, and was determined to capture him. After speaking, he burst into loud tears. Everyone in the dragon palace, big and small, shed tears as well. The old dragon said, “‘When a rabbit dies, foxes grieve; creatures feel pain for their kind.’ Since Xu Sun is so detestable, let me give him to you so you can take revenge!’” The evil dragon replied, “Xu Sun has mastered the flying technique taught by his mother, and he also possesses the Sword of the Jade Maiden to cut through evil forces. He is extremely powerful and not easy to defeat.” The old dragon said:

“Even if he has the art of flying, it cannot surpass my old dragon; even if he has a sword to slay evil, it cannot cut down my old dragon.” So he immediately transformed into the appearance of a celestial being—three heads and six arms, with a black face and sharp fangs. He wore heavy iron armor and carried a sharp steel spear. A golden helmet shone brightly on his head, and he rode a steed that galloped swiftly. His heroic spirit was fierce, and his murderous aura was overwhelming. He was determined to avenge his enemies—what a terrifying sight!

The old dragon, dressed in such a manner, along with the river demons and palace guards, drew cheers from everyone, who marveled at his appearance, saying, “What an impressive outfit!” The evil dragon also transformed into the form of a celestial being. How was he dressed? His face was as black as Zhao Xuantan’s, and his stature was as tall as King Deng’s. He held a spear eight feet long, just like that of the Fighting Spirit Official. From his mouth came flames like those of Ge Xianzhen, and his head emitted a brilliant light like that of Bodhisattva Huaguang.

He appeared majestic and imposing, far different from his previous form.

When the evil dragon appeared in the dragon palace, everyone cheered and marvelled at his appearance.

The two dragon demons together created a whirlwind as they rushed ashore. The old dragon was on the left, the evil dragon on the right, with their followers forming ranks, ready to confront the true master when he arrived.

Shi Cen and Mian Lie saw from a high hill the monstrous aura filling the air. These brave youths, regardless of the enemy’s strength or numbers, drew their swords and jumped down from the hill to fight against those monsters. Though they knew the true master’s techniques, they were outnumbered. After just three rounds, they were defeated and fled. The old dragon and the evil dragon pursued them, causing Shi Cen and Mian Lie to suffer a great defeat. They returned to the true master and recounted what had happened. The true master became furious and took his two precious swords, ordering Gan Zhan and Di Shihe to go help. Riding on a auspicious cloud, he rushed to where the old dragon’s forces were gathered. When the evil dragon saw this, he, as the saying goes, “When enemies meet, their eyes become even sharper,” raised his spear to attack the true master. The old dragon also raised his steel spear to attack him. But the true master used his magic, wielding his two swords to block attacks from both sides. On one side, he swung his sword against the spear, increasing the murderous aura; on the other side, he used his sword to parry the spear, boosting his strength. His strikes were like raging waves from Lüliang—how could anyone resist? His blows were like collapsing earth from Mount Shu—how could anything withstand them? On one side, he displayed his formidable martial skills, defeating enemies like crows among cranes; on the other side, he showed his mighty presence, defeating foes like tigers entering sheep dens. On one side, he used his technique to sweep away all resistance, causing enemies to fall like petals in the mud.

While sending a wave rolling across the land, it crushed them into dust that returned to the sea. Truly, it was like parting the earth and overturning the heavens, aiming to cut down those who stirred up waves and chaos.

The two dragons fought fiercely with the immortal lord, with no clear victor. Suddenly, they leaped into the air, intending to summon wind and rain, sending sand and stones flying to capture the immortal lord. By then, the immortal lord could already ride the clouds and mist, so he caught up with the two dragons and fought with them in the air for a long time. Afterward, they descended back to the ground to continue fighting. Seeing that the immortal lord’s powers were great and the two dragons gradually couldn’t withstand him, they all charged at him together. Shi He and Gan Zhan each took a sharp sword and also joined the battle. Watch as these master and disciples charged ahead—how could those demons resist? The old dragon, lacking strength, had one of its three heads injured by the immortal lord and one of its six arms severed; it then transformed into a gust of wind and fled. Seeing its master defeated, the evil dragon became panicked, fearing capture by the immortal lord, and also turned into a gust of wind and headed west. The rest of the dragon clan scattered. Some turned into grasshoppers, chirping noisily on the wheat fields; some became flies, buzzing loudly among the thorny trees; some turned into earthworms, wriggling through the paddy fields; some became bees, fluttering noisily among the flower branches; some became dragonflies, flying gently through the clouds; and some became ordinary dogs, silent and motionless, lying by the fields. As the immortal lord pursued the demons, passing by the fields, he accidentally kicked aside the edge of the field, revealing a stream of evil energy. Looking quickly, he saw an ordinary dog hiding there. With a swing of his sword, he cut it in two—it turned out to be the fifth son of the evil dragon. Later, a poem was written lamenting:

“I laugh at the dragon spirit’s lack of wisdom, struggling in vain against the immortal maiden. Today, I raise my merciless sword and cut down my own fifth son.”

After killing the fifth son of the evil dragon, the immortal lord hurriedly searched for the dragon itself but found no trace of it. So he returned to Yuzhang with his two disciples. Lord Wu said to the immortal lord, “At present, the dragon clan is still strong and has not been eradicated. With such supporters backing the evil dragon, how could it give up? It’s better to first eliminate its followers, leaving it isolated and weak so it can be captured easily—that’s what they mean by ‘first shoot the horse before shooting the man.’” The immortal lord agreed, “That makes sense.” So he, along with Shi Cen, Gan Zhan, Chen Xun, Mian Lie, Zhongli Jia, and their disciples, set out to hunt down and kill the dragon clan. Still worried that the evil dragon might flee to the city, they left Lord Wu and Peng Kang behind to guard it. Thus, the immortal lord and his disciples climbed high mountains, went to remote valleys, crossed deep pools, visited long bridges, and traversed large lakes—all in search of the dragon clan to destroy them.

One day, the True Lord arrived in the Xinwu area and suddenly saw a dragon transformed into a water buffalo, intent on causing floods to drown the people there. With one exhale, the water rose by one foot; with two exhalations, it rose by two feet. The True Lord became furious and swung his sword to slay it. Seeing the True Lord, the evil dragon was terrified and fled into a pond. The True Lord then erected a stone stele inscribed with words to suppress the dragon, which read: “By order of the Supreme Mystery, a true immortal who has attained enlightenment. Before the end of ages and at the beginning of new ones, existing prior to time and space. In the boundless realm of Dharma, beyond all mystery. Through relentless cultivation, one ascends to immortality in daylight. The divine sword descends to earth, while spells ascend to heaven. Evil spirits lose courage, and ghostly beings flee into hiding.”

That pond is still called Zhenlong Pond to this day, and the stone stele remains.

One day, the True Lord went to Haihun and heard that a giant snake had made its nest in a mountain, exhaling clouds that stretched for several miles. Those who were in those clouds were swallowed up. Boats on rivers and lakes often sank due to it, causing great harm to the people. Shi Cen climbed to the top of a northern peak and saw the poisonous clouds filling the sky. He sighed, “What crime have these people committed to suffer such harm?” He then reported this to the True Lord, wishing to go and kill the snake. The True Lord said, “I’ve heard that this beast’s poisonous breath is extremely deadly. Those who confront it will die out of ten, and all hundred will perish. We must wait for the right moment.” After some time, a red crow flew by, and the True Lord said, “Now is the time.” When the red crow signaled the right moment, heavenly gods arrived and earthly deities descended, allowing them to exterminate the monster. Later, a temple was built there named Houshi Temple, also known as Red Crow Temple. Back then, the True Lord led his disciples to where the snake was. The snake leaped out of its den, raising its head dozens of feet high. Its eyes were like torches, its mouth like a blood basin, and its scales resembled coins. It exhaled a stream of poisonous gas, creating a thick, murky fog—like the obscuring mist used by Chi You to confuse his enemies; dark and gloomy, like dust in the air. It moved back and forth, resembling dark masses formed in imperial palaces; rolling up and down, like turbulent clouds emerging from Mount Tai. It covered the mountains on earth and hid the sun, moon, and stars in the sky. Spreading over hundreds of miles, it was so dense that survival was impossible. Truly, “The evil snake exhales gas thirty thousand feet high; even a thousand miles away, one can smell its foul stench.”

The True Lord blew a gust of immortal wind to disperse the gas. His disciples swung their sacred swords, while others waved flags and beat drums, shouting loudly to lend support. The evil snake showed no fear and rushed forward. The True Lord unleashed his magical thunder, striking it from above, and also used his divine sword to force it back. Shi Cen and Gan Zhan bravely rushed forward—Shi Cen stepped on its head, while Gan Zhan kicked its tail. The True Lord first split its jaw with his sword, and Chen Xun then cut it in half at the waist, splitting its belly open. Suddenly, a smaller snake emerged from its belly, several feet long. Shi Cen wanted to kill it, but the True Lord said, “That’s a snake born from its mother’s womb. It has never seen the light of day and hasn’t harmed anyone yet. It shouldn’t be killed.” He then shouted, “You wretched creature, go! I spare your life—do not harm anyone again!” The small snake, frightened, fled away.

After traveling six or seven li, they heard the sound of drums and noise; they even turned back to look at their mother. This place is now known as Shezi Port. The disciples asked again to pursue and kill it, but the True Lord said, “If we have already spared its life yet still pursue and kill it, then our hearts lack compassion.” Thus, the snake managed to enter the river. Today, there is a temple in Xinjian Wucheng, which is highly sacred. Emperor Zhenzong of Song conferred upon it the title “King Lingshun Zhaoying Anji Huize,” and it is commonly called the Little Dragon King Temple. After the giant snake died, its bones gathered together to form an island, which is now known as Jigǔ Zhou.

The True Lord entered Haihun, leaving altars in every place he passed—six in total. There were seven such places in total: one called Jinhua Jing, another Jiezhu Jing, then Danfu Jing, Huabiao Jing, Ziyang Jing, Huoyang Jing, and Liezhen Jing. Their arrangement resembled that of stars, presumably to suppress future evils. All seven altars are now either palaces or temples. After the giant python was killed, its evil blood and sword were cleaned and polished, with stones used to test their sharpness. To this day, there remains a Sword Polishing Pond and a Sword Testing Stone in Xinjian. The True Lord said to his disciples, “The group of dragons has not been completely eliminated. There are still evil dragons with unpredictable powers. Now that they know I’m here, they might take advantage of any opportunity to attack our city. It’s better to leave this place and return.” Shi Cen, a brave man, suggested, “There are many demons here. Let’s search for a few more days and kill a few before returning.” But the True Lord replied, “I’ve been away for so long; I’m afraid the dragon gang in my region has gathered again. We should return quickly to deal with them!” So they all left Haihun.

The people of Haihun, grateful for the True Lord’s kindness, built a shrine to worship him throughout the four seasons, without needing further explanation.

As for the evil dragon, it truly hated the True Lord deeply. Taking advantage of his absence, it intended to turn the Yuzhang region into a sea to avenge itself. It gathered the remaining members of its dragon gang—about seven or eight hundred in number—and said, “Last night, the moon left its position. Tonight, at the hour of You, the sky will be dark and stormy. Let’s take this opportunity to sink Yuzhang region entirely.” At that time, it was precisely the noon hour. Lord Wu and Lord Peng happened to be looking from a high place on West Mountain. They saw an aura of evil filling the sky and said, “Master Xu went out to fight demons, but I didn’t expect all the evil energy to gather here.” Before they could finish speaking, the gods of Yuzhang region came to see Lord Wu and said, “The evil dragon has gathered another eight hundred dragons, aiming to turn Jiangxi region into a sea. They plan to act at the hour of You, when the wind and rain will be strongest. Many residents, upon hearing this news, have come to our small temple to pray for protection. If Jiangxi doesn’t sink, that’s good. But if it does, it will be like a ‘mud bodhisattva in water’—unable to save oneself, let alone others. Please advise us on what to do!” Hearing this, Lord Wu was greatly alarmed, and he and Lord Peng hurried down the mountain.

Lord Wu said to Lord Peng, “You should take your sword and summon divine weapons. Go search around the riverfront and behind it first.” Lord Peng set off.

Lord Wu ascended a nine-star altar, took a token of the Five Thunders, wielded a seven-star sword, poured in a bowl of pure water spewed by the Five Dragons, recited several sacred mantras such as “Qian Luo Heng Na Jiu Long Po Hui Zhen Jun,” formed a true sigil of the Three Platforms, and stepped along the divine trigrams of the Eight Trigrams. He then sent a flying talisman, ordering the Yearly Duty Officer to deliver it to the Sun Emperor in the Palace of the Sun, instructing him to slowly lower this sun disc, turning the hour of You into the hour of Wu, so that it would be like Lu Yang wielding his long spear—immediately returning three degrees. If Lord Yu pointed with his short sword, it would shift the days by a few degrees. Another flying talisman was sent, ordering the Monthly Duty Officer to deliver it to the Moon Goddess in the Palace of the Moon, instructing her to slowly raise this moon disc, turning the hour of Hai into the hour of You, so that it would be like something gradually moving away from the sea’s edge and emerging from the clouds; that night, the moon would be full, and its bright light would be everywhere. Yet another flying talisman was sent, ordering the Wind God to cease the strong winds that night—no gusts allowed, no violent winds, no waves rising across rivers, no dust stirred up by the wind, no yellow leaves blown off trees, and no white clouds pushed out of the mountains. Another flying talisman was sent, ordering the Rain God to stop raining that night—no drizzle to break the banana leaves, no rain to wash away the moss, no thick black mist covering the mountains like ink, no rapid currents like those in the sea, no sound like Xiang Yu fighting against Zhang Han. Yet another flying talisman was sent, ordering the Divine Lawgiver to go straight to the Thunder God, instructing him to hide the Five Thunders that night—no thunder to be unleashed, no loud booms that could shake the mountains or open the Yu Gates, causing the heavens to tremble. Yet another flying talisman was sent, ordering the Swift-Step Divine Being to go to the Cloud Master, instructing him to gather the clouds that night—no misty clouds to cover heaven and earth, no dense clouds to obscure the lands; let the phoenixes fly through the layers of clouds, and let the dragons emerge from the distant waves. Those far away from home in the Taihang Mountains would long for their loved ones, and King Xiang in the Wu Gorge would have many dreams. After sending all these talismans, Lord Wu also sent the God of Sacrifices and other deities to quickly inform the Zhen Jun to return urgently to Yuzhang Commandery to subdue the demons, without delay! Once all arrangements were made, Lord Wu personally took up his sword to suppress the dragons, which was effortless.

Meanwhile, the evil dragon spirit waited for the moment when the sun dipped below and the moon rose, at the hour of You. It summoned winds and rains, drove clouds and thunder, causing chaos throughout Yuzhang Commandery. But no matter how long it waited, the sun continued to shine in the west, refusing to descend, as if tied down by a rope. The evil dragon then tried to make the moon rise, but it seemed as though someone was holding it back, preventing it from ascending. Angered, the dragon ignored whether it was the hour of You or not and ordered its followers to summon winds. But the Wind God obeyed Lord Wu’s talisman and shouted from mid-air, “Evil dragon! You’re trying to use such tricks now—trying to summon winds? I won’t listen to you!” Unable to summon winds, the dragon tried to make the Thunder God thunder. But the Thunder God also obeyed Lord Wu’s talisman and did not produce any thunder. The dragon said, “Thunder God! In the past, I called upon you countless times.”

“Not a sound will be made today—dare you go mute?” Thor said, “I won’t go mute, but you’ll surely go mad today!” Seeing that Thor wouldn’t respond, the evil dragon had no choice but to shout, “Cloud Master, quickly summon clouds!” The Cloud Master obeyed Lord Wu’s command and gathered all the clouds from the mountains and valleys, hiding them tightly away, refusing to let them spread across the sky. Soon, the heavens were clear and dust-free. The Cloud Master continued singing a tune in midair titled “The Yangtze River Swallows the Evening Clouds.” When the evil dragon saw that the Cloud Master wouldn’t bring clouds, it went to ask the Rain Master for rain. But the Rain Master also obeyed Lord Wu’s command—there wasn’t even a trace of rain, let alone drops.

The evil dragon wished the sun would never set, the moon never rise, the wind never blow, the rain never fall, thunder never roar, and clouds never form. This drove it to extreme anger. It then said to its fellow dragons, “I don’t need wind, clouds, thunder, or rain—can’t a tiny region like Yuzhang become an ocean?” It then stretched open its scales, turned around, and sank the land outside the Zhangjiang River in Jiangxi by dozens of feet. Seeing this, Lord Wu immediately drew his precious sword and rode on the auspicious clouds to confront the evil dragon. The evil dragon fought against Lord Wu, with Peng Jun also flying with his sword to aid his enemy, causing havoc outside Jiangxi City. The evil dragon summoned its followers, who rushed forward—some turning into countless yellow wasps that attacked heads and bodies, while others became writhing snakes that entangled everything. The evil dragon further transformed into a giant Vajrapani, tall and massive, wielding a golden spear as it fought against Lord Wu and Peng Jun. What brave warriors they were! Above, they fought off the wild wasps like snowflakes covering their heads; below, they defeated the snakes like withered tree roots; in the middle, they confronted the evil dragon like eagles in flight. The battle lasted from noon until near dusk. Suddenly, the True Lord arrived with his disciples, shouting, “Xu Xun is here! How dare you, vile beast, cause harm?” All the dragon followers grew fearful. Seeing the True Lord, the evil dragon gritted its teeth, determined to avenge itself. It said to its followers, “Today we face great peril. Our fate—life or death—depends on this battle!” The dragons eagerly agreed, saying, “As fathers, sons, brothers, we shall fight to the death. If we win, we live together; if we lose, we die together!” Thus, they fought bravely alongside the evil dragon against the True Lord. What a fierce battle! Dark clouds covered the sky, killing intent filled the air, the earth turned upside down, gods wept in sorrow, immortals wielded boundless powers, and demons displayed great magic. One was a monstrous creature from a deep pool, wielding a golden spear; the other was a true immortal from the nine heavens, flying with his sword. One had layered armor that moved constantly, while the other used ever-changing tactics. One exhaled demonic breath, creating mist and clouds; the other blew divine winds, clearing the skies. One led his dragon descendants to fight against the immortals, just like 800,000 Cao troops battling at Red Cliffs; the other joined his disciples to subdue the demon, akin to 28 Han generals fighting at Kunyang. One stirred up rivers and seas, creating waves upon waves; the other shook the pillars of heaven and earth, sending thunderous bolts. One sought to avenge its kind, while the other aimed to rid the people of harm. Truly, it was...

Both sides fought with equal vigor, each displaying great skill. In the end, a winner was determined—after all, there is a difference between male and female.

It is said that the evil dragon fought desperately against the immortal lord. Just as the immortal lord was about to capture it to put an end to its menace, the members of the dragon’s clan were filled with fear. The immortal lord’s disciples, each wielding their precious swords, killed one or two, three or four, or even five or six of them; blood sprayed everywhere, turning everything red. Zhou Guang, with a single swing of his sword, killed the evil dragon’s second son. The rest of the dragon’s clan transformed and fled. Only the evil dragon remained to fight alone against the immortal lord. Looking back, he saw none of his clan members by his side, so he had no choice but to leap onto the clouds and vanish as a gust of black wind. By the time the immortal lord rushed after him, the evil dragon had already disappeared, and he returned with his disciples. The immortal lord said to Wu Meng, “Had it not been for your magical powers, millions of living beings would have perished in those waves!” Wu Meng replied, “It was all thanks to our master who drove away those evil dragons; otherwise, even I would have been in danger.”

It is said that after suffering repeated defeats, the evil dragon had killed four of its six sons, aside from those it had already slain among its own kind.

Fearing punishment from the immortal lord, the remaining members of the dragon’s clan became anxious and transformed, leaving only three dragons untransformed. These three were: two sons of the evil dragon and one grandson, who hid among the islands of Xinjianzhou.

The rest transformed into humans and scattered across various cities and towns to escape the disaster.

One day, one of the immortal lord’s disciples, Zeng Heng, entered a city and saw two young men with unusual appearances. They bowed deeply and asked Zeng Heng, “Are you not Mr. Xu from a noble family?” Zeng Heng replied, “Yes.” Then he asked the young men, “Who are you?” The young men said, “My family lives in Chang’an, and we have practiced virtue for generations. We’ve heard that Mr. Xu possesses great magical powers, able to defeat evil spirits and monsters using his divine sword. We would like to know what powers this divine sword has.” Zeng Heng said, “My master’s divine sword has immense power—it can split the sky when pointed at it, crack the earth when pointed downward, disrupt the orbits of stars, and reverse the flow of rivers. No evil spirit dares to confront its edge, and no monster can withstand its sharpness. When drawn from its sheath, frost and snow arise; wherever its light shines, ghosts cry and gods grieve. It is a treasure bestowed by heaven.” The young men asked, “Among all things in the world, is there anything that could stand up to your master’s divine sword without being harmed?” Zeng Heng joked, “My master’s divine sword only fails to harm winter melons and gourds; nothing else can resist it.” Hearing this, the young men took their leave. Zeng Heng had no idea that those young men were actually transformed dragon spirits. As soon as the dragon spirits heard about winter melons and gourds, they told all their companions about it.

One day, the True Lord bestowed his divine sword upon his disciples Shi Cen and Gan Zhan, ordering them to search everywhere for the dragon gang and exterminate them.

The dragon gang, under constant pursuit by Gan and Shi, transformed into gourds and winter melons, floating all over the river.

The True Lord ascended to a lofty peak, cast a glance with his divine light, then called out to Shi Cen and Gan Zhan, saying, “What floats in the river are not gourds or winter melons, but the remaining spirits of the dragons. You two can walk on water and cut them down.”

So Shi Cen and Gan Zhan stepped onto the water, raised their swords, and began slashing at the gourds. But those gourds were light, sinking instantly into the water whenever struck, unable to be broken. Just as they were frustrated, a great immortal passing by observed from afar and sent the spirit of a myna bird to perch on Shi Cen and Gan Zhan’s heads, chirping, “Cut from below, cut from above.” Shi Cen immediately understood and started cutting from below. About seven hundred members of the dragon gang perished, completely eradicated. The clear blue waters of the river turned into red turbulent waves. Only three dragons failed to transform in time and thus escaped. Seeing that all the dragon gang had been eliminated, the True Lord bestowed a crown upon the myna bird, which is why mynas still have crowns on their heads to this day. After the True Lord wiped out the dragon gang, a poet lamented, “With his divine sword, he vanquishes all evil; on the blue waves, he cuts down gourds.”

The evil dragon clan thought they could turn the sea against their enemies, unaware that they were being killed right there in the river.

As for the six sons born of the evil dragon spirit, four of them had already been killed. More than a thousand members of the dragon gang were all exterminated by the True Lord. Only the third son, the sixth son, and a great-grandson hid among the islands in Xinjian County and managed to survive. When they heard that the True Lord had wiped out all the dragons, they cried out in despair, “Our father’s whereabouts are unknown. Now, among us six brothers, we have six or seven hundred descendants, along with our kin—over a thousand in total. All of them have been wiped out by Xu Sun. Only our two brothers and a niece remain. We know Xu Sun’s magical powers are extraordinary; how could he spare our lives? If we don’t flee, we’ll go to Fujian or other places to survive and try again.” Just as they were about to set off, the True Lord arrived along with his disciples Gan Zhan and Shi Cen, forcing the three dragons to flee in haste. The True Lord saw an evil aura rising into the sky and pointed it out to Gan and Shi, saying, “There are still some members of the dragon gang left here. Go and eliminate them to eradicate them completely.”

So the True Lord, along with Gan and Shi, rushed forward. Along the way, Shi Cen used his sword to cut off one of their tails. When they reached Yanping Prefecture in Fujian, at a place called Chayang Jiuli Tan, one of the dragons hid deep within the潭. The True Lord summoned someone and said, “I am Xu Sun from Yuzhang. I have pursued this dragon spirit here; it is hiding in this潭. I will insert a bamboo pole into the rock wall by the潭 to suppress it and prevent it from harming the people. You all…”

“Residents, do not cut it down!” With that, he inserted a bamboo pole there and instructed, “If this bamboo withers, I will allow you to be reborn; if it thrives, you shall not emerge again.”

To this day, by the pond, whenever the mother bamboo withers, a new shoot grows, replacing it and becoming lush once more. It is now known as “Xu Zhenjun’s Bamboo,” and to this day, one of its stems remains. Passing boats sometimes see a dragon there, but this dragon has no tail.

There was another dragon that Xu Zhenjun, along with Gan Zhan and Shi Cen, chased all the way to Chong’an County in Jianning Prefecture, Fujian.

There was a temple named Huaiyu Temple, where there was an elder monk named Master Quanshan who recited scriptures in the hall. Suddenly, a young man rushed into the temple and pleaded, “I am the son of a malevolent dragon. Xu Xun has destroyed my entire family and is chasing me here. I implore the kind master to have mercy on me and save my life. I will repay you generously later!”

The elder said, “I have heard that Xu Xun from Yuzhang possesses great spiritual power and divine insight. Where can I hide in this temple?” The young man replied, “Out of kindness, if you are willing to save me, I will transform into a grain of millet and hide in your palm. When Xu Xun arrives at the temple, you should simply clasp your hands and recite scriptures, and then I will be safe.” The elder agreed. The young man immediately turned into a grain of millet and hid in the elder’s palm. Xu Zhenjun, along with Gan Zhan and Shi Cen, rushed into the temple and said to the elder, “I am Xu Xun from Yuzhang. I’ve chased this dragon spirit here. Where is it? Make it come out to see me!” The elder refused to answer and continued to clasp his hands and recite sacred scriptures. Not knowing the dragon was hidden in the elder’s palm, Xu Zhenjun searched everywhere but found no trace of it. Shi Cen said, “It seems the dragon spirit has gone. We should go look for it elsewhere.”

Meanwhile, thinking Xu Zhenjun had left the temple far away, the dragon spirit transformed back into a young man and thanked the elder, saying, “I am deeply grateful for the master’s act of saving my life. There is nothing I can offer in return, but I ask the master to order the monks not to ring bells or beat drums for seven days and seven nights, so that I may find a way to repay you.” The elder did as he was asked and instructed the monks and disciples accordingly. After three days, suddenly fierce winds arose around the temple, with cold air blowing strongly and the wooden structures moving on their own. The elder was greatly alarmed and said to the monks, “I realize that the son of that malevolent dragon is meant to harm people. He saved my life and told us not to ring bells or drums for seven days and seven nights. But after just three days, the weather has become so abnormal—it must be that he deceived us with his words. If we don’t ring the bells and drums, we can expect no repayment from him. Instead, this temple will suffer harm, and by then it will be too late to regret it.” So he ordered the monks to ring the bell in the eastern tower. The bell rang 108 times, with a loud resonant sound—just like the roar of whales in the palace of the Buddha king, heard by merchants on their boats in the middle of the night.

Once again, the drums were played on that tower. The drums sounded with a rhythmic pattern of three beats followed by three pauses, ding ding dong dong. It was as if thunder was rumbling in the clouds above, or as if the roar of the sea could be heard.

When the dragon spirit heard the sound of the drums, it was greatly startled. It immediately turned around and transformed back into a young man, then returned to the temple. It went to see the abbot and said, “A few days ago, I instructed the temple not to play the drums for seven days, hoping to turn the high mountains surrounding the temple into vast fields of fertile land as a way to repay my master for saving my life. Only three days have passed, and although the mountains have been somewhat leveled and springs have appeared, it’s not yet enough. Why did my master start playing the drums now?” The abbot replied that a strong wind had suddenly blown, causing the mountains to shake. The young man could only sigh in frustration. The abbot then sent people to check outside the temple, and they found that all the steep areas had been leveled, with endless streams of water flowing from them. To this day, Huaiyu Temple has thousands of acres of flat, fertile land, all thanks to the dragon spirit’s act of gratitude.

Meanwhile, the True Lord left the temple gate but couldn’t find the dragon spirit anywhere. He went back to a high place to look, and saw that the evil aura was still inside the temple. So he went back to the temple with Gan and Shi to search further. Knowing that the True Lord had returned, the dragon spirit first transformed into a monk, bowed to the abbot, and said, “My entire clan, numbering over a thousand, was destroyed by Xu Xun. Out of six brothers, four have already died, and I don’t even know whether my father is still alive. Now I repent of my past mistakes and strive to cultivate virtue and understand the Way.” After saying this, he shed tears and left. The True Lord indeed went back to the temple and saw that the evil aura had gone outside. He then followed its trail to Jianyang, a place called Yedun.

From afar, he saw a monk, knowing it to be the dragon spirit in disguise. He ordered his disciples Gan and Shi to chase after it. Gan and Shi wanted to kill it, but the True Lord quickly stopped them, saying, “No! Although this creature causes harm, it has now transformed into a monk; surely it will change its ways.” He then shouted, “Wicked beast! I forgive you this time and let you go. You must practice virtue and refrain from harming people! I give you these words to remember: ‘Stop when you encounter a lake; pray when you see Mount Yang.’” After giving these instructions, he released it. Gan Zhan shouted, “Wicked beast! My master has spared your life—don’t harm anyone anymore!” Shi Cen also said, “Wicked beast! If you don’t follow my master’s words and continue to harm people, capturing you will be as easy as turning one’s hand!”

The monk fled in shame.

After leaving Yedun, he arrived at a village with a mountain in front. There he met a shepherd boy. The monk asked, “What place is this?” The shepherd boy replied, “This is Guihu. The mountain in front is called Mount Yang.” Hearing this, the monk was overjoyed and said, “Just now, the True Lord told me, ‘Stop when you encounter a lake; pray when you see Mount Yang.’ Now that I’ve come here, these conditions are met, so I can settle here.” He then rested by the waterfields along the road.

In between were springs of water that never ran dry, no matter the season; this place was named Longku. Later, it was called Lilongku. The monk Long practiced here on Yangshan Mountain, and his Dharma name was Master Gumei. He then built a temple named Yangshan Temple. At that time, the temple lacked water; Gumei pointed his finger at various spots on the stone wall, and springs appeared wherever he pointed. The temple also had ample farmland, which still exists to this day. Zhenjun built a pavilion at Yedun, named Zhenjun Pavilion, facing Yangshan Mountain from afar to suppress its evil influence.

That pavilion still stands to this day.

It is said that Zhenjun pursued another dragon spirit—a descendant of the first evil dragon, actually the great-grandson of that evil dragon. This dragon fled all the way to Nantai in Fuzhou to hide its tracks. Zhenjun ordered his two disciples, Gan and Shi, to search everywhere, while he himself stood on a rock, using a fishing line to fish. Suddenly, he felt as though someone was pulling at the line. Zhenjun stood firm on the rock and pulled hard, causing the rock to split. That rock still exists today and is known as Fishing Dragon Rock. A large snail, about twenty to thirty feet long, was pulled up. Inside the snail, a woman appeared. Zhenjun said, “You are a demon!” The woman knelt down and said, “I am the third daughter of the Water Lord of the South Sea. Having heard that your master has mastered the path to immortality, I came here in a snail boat to seek guidance.” Zhenjun pointed to Gaogai Mountain, saying it could be a place for cultivation, and added, “There are bitter ginseng and licorice on that mountain, and there’s a well there. Throw those herbs into the well and drink its water daily; over time, you will become an immortal.” He then ordered the woman to return to the snail. With a gust of wind from the southeast, the snail boat floated to the foot of Gaogai Mountain. The woman stayed there, and the snail turned into a large rock, which still exists today. She climbed the mountain to collect bitter ginseng and licorice, throwing them into the well every day and drinking its water. Eventually, she became an immortal and left. To this day, those who are sick drink water from that well, and their illnesses are cured.

It is said that Shi Cen and Gan Zhan returned to see Zhenjun and reported that they could not find the dragon spirit. Zhenjun climbed to the top of a high mountain to look, and saw a trace of evil energy faintly emanating from the well at Kaiyuan Temple in Fuzhou City. He told his disciples, “The dragon spirit is inside the well.” They went to the temple and placed an iron Buddha on top of the well to suppress it. That iron Buddha still exists today. After subduing all three dragons, Zhenjun returned to Yuzhang with Gan Zhan and Shi Cen to hunt down the remaining evil dragon. Later, a poem was written in praise:

“Traveling thousands of miles to southern Fujian, seeking the dragon spirit through mist and clouds. Leaving traces and wonders everywhere, people throughout the ages revere Zhenjun.”

It is said that since the evil dragon could no longer wreak havoc in Yuzhang, its kin turned into melons and gourds, all of which were destroyed by Zhenjun. Of its six offspring, four were killed; only two sons and one grandson remained, whose whereabouts are still unknown.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, so he rushed back to the Yangzi River and met Fire Dragon’s father, crying out to him about his troubles.

Fire Dragon said, “Four hundred years ago, the King of Filial Piety and Fraternal Love passed on the teachings to Lord Lan, who then passed them on to Lady Chan, who in turn passed them on to Xu Sun. I knew that since Xu Sun was alive, you all would face such difficulties for a long time. That’s why I ordered my generals at that time to lead the shrimp soldiers and crab warriors to demand that he hand over the Golden Elixir, the precious talismans, and the iron vouchers. Who would have thought that Lord Lan would defeat us? Back then I was young and strong, but even I couldn’t overcome Lord Lan; now that I’m old and weak, how can I possibly deal with Xu Sun?”

“You go ahead by yourself,” said the Evil Dragon. The Evil Dragon lamented, “It’s true, as people say, that fathers don’t care about their sons these days.” Fire Dragon cursed, “You beast! I have grandchildren all around me, yet because of your incompetence, not a single one remains. And now you still blame my father!” Then he defeated the Evil Dragon.

Seeing that his father wouldn’t stand by him, the Evil Dragon cried loudly on the riverbank, which alerted Ao Qin, the third prince of the Dragon King of the South Sea. At that time, the prince was patrolling the Yangtze River under the orders of the Dragon King, fully armed and wielding a steel sword. Recognizing that it was Fire Dragon’s son, he quickly asked, “Why are you crying here?” The Evil Dragon replied, “My entire clan of over a thousand was wiped out by Xu Sun, and my father won’t help me. I’m now like a dog without a home—how can I not cry?” The prince said, “As the saying goes, ‘No family remains intact.’ How could Xu Sun kill so many members of your family? Does he dare to underestimate our water kingdom? Stay calm; I’ll find a way to capture him and avenge your suffering!” The Evil Dragon said, “Xu Sun has mastered Lady Chan’s skill of rapid movement, as well as the precious sword given by a fairy. He’s extremely powerful and shouldn’t be underestimated.” The prince replied, “In my dragon palace, there’s an iron pestle called the ‘Wish-Granting Pestle,’ and there’s an iron rod called the ‘Wish-Granting Rod.’ With this pestle or rod, if I want it big, it can be as large as a house beam; if I want it small, it can be as tiny as a gold needle; if I want it long, it can be three or four zhang long; if I want it short, it can be just one or two inches long. That’s why they’re called ‘Wish-Granting.’ These are all treasures of my father. That rod was taken away by Sun Wukong; I don’t know how many demons that monkey has killed. Only this Wish-Granting Pestle hasn’t been used yet. I carry it with me today. Let’s try using it against Xu Sun. If he can withstand it, then he truly has great powers.” The Evil Dragon asked, “In which era was this pestle forged?” The prince replied, “This pestle was forged at the beginning of time, when there was a king named Pangu who chiseled some rocks from Mount Kunlun and built a red furnace. He cut down a tree from the Guanghan Palace and burned lots of charcoal. He took tens of thousands of pounds of raw iron from Mount Sumeru and used the true fire from the Sun Palace. He summoned Nuwa, the goddess who shapes stones, and she refined it for forty-nine days. Then he ordered the Rain God to bring rain, the Wind God to blow wind, Tai Yi to guard the furnace, and Zhu Rong to watch the fire. That’s how this pestle was created. It can be made big or small, as desired…”

It can be made long as desired or short as desired. Moreover, this pestle has a wonderful feature: in mid-air, it can turn from one to ten, from ten to a hundred, from a hundred to a thousand, from a thousand to ten thousand—its forms keep changing. The evil dragon asked, “Where is that iron pestle now?” The prince immediately took it out of his ear, waved it in the wind, and it grew as big as a roof beam. After waving it twice more, it became as long as a bamboo pole. The evil dragon was overjoyed and said, “With such a thing, it can be made long or large as desired. Xu Xun does have some magical powers, so he might be able to hold his own for a while. But his disciples are all novices—how can they possibly deal with just a pestle?”

The Yaksha saw that the prince wanted to avenge himself on the evil dragon, so he advised him, “Without your father’s orders, how dare you use military weapons? If your father finds out, it won’t end well.” The prince replied, “I’ve made up my mind. If you’re willing to help me, come with me; if not, go back to the South Sea by yourself.” The Yaksha refused to help and left. The prince then rushed to Yuzhang to capture Xu Xun and avenge himself on the evil dragon. As for how he dressed himself, he wore layered, sturdy turtle shells, with seaweed draped neatly across them. He rode a tricolored sea horse, looking just like General Dong of the Heavenly Gates in full armor. He moved swiftly over smooth stones, and his sword gleamed like cinnabar in the distance. The rope tied around his waist was made of ginseng, ready to subdue Xu Xun.

Meanwhile, the True Lord, along with his disciples Gan Zhan and Shi Cen, each wielding their precious swords, were about to go after the evil dragon. Suddenly, the Third Prince of the Dragon King called out, “Xu Xun, Xu Xun! How cruel of you to kill thousands of people from the evil dragon’s family! Do you dare underestimate my dragon palace? Today, I’ll challenge you in a fight to show you my strength.” The True Lord recognized him as the Third Prince of the South Sea Dragon King with his keen eyes and shouted, “Your father rules the South Sea and is known for his integrity. Why do you, his unworthy son, act like this? Go back and avoid regret!” The prince replied, “If you kill someone’s father, others will kill your father; if you kill someone’s brother, others will kill your brother. The evil dragon is one of my kind—I certainly won’t allow you to bully him like this!” Then he raised his steel knife and swung at the True Lord. The True Lord also raised his precious sword to meet him. They fought fiercely—one was the leader of the gods in the nine heavens, the other the chief among the dragon princes of the four seas. One was skilled in magic, capable of swallowing clouds and breathing mist; the other was proficient in martial arts, able to summon lightning and thunder. One called his mother his teacher, possessing great supernatural powers; the other regarded the Dragon King as his father, boasting of his high status. One wielded his sword, slashing forward and backward with a brilliant glow, like the harsh frost on the land; the other used his iron pestle, charging straight ahead with a clanging sound, like firecrackers exploding in the valley. It was truly a match between equals, with no clear winner throughout the day.

The True Lord faced off against the Crown Prince with sword against blade. The battle lasted from the hour of Si to the hour of Wu, with no clear winner. Shi Cen said to the fellow Taoists, “This Dragon Prince is extremely skilled; I’m afraid our master won’t be able to defeat him. Let’s all attack together.” Seeing the disciples of the True Lord joining forces in battle, the Crown Prince took out an iron pestle from his ear, swung it two or three times, and threw it into the air. What a formidable iron pestle!

It turned from one to ten, from ten to a hundred, from a hundred to a thousand, from a thousand to ten thousand. In just half a sky, it was like swirling willow fluff dancing wildly or dragonflies flying up and down. It made a loud clanging sound throughout the sky, just like the gavel used by Prime Minister Pan’s son during competitions. As soon as the disciples of the True Lord managed to get rid of the pestle on their heads, another would strike them from behind; as soon as they blocked that one, another would hit them in the chest; as soon as they dealt with that one, another would strike them on the shoulder. Frightened by these pestles, the disciples fled in defeat. What a remarkable True Lord—truly possessing magic powers and supernatural abilities! He pointed his sword east, and the pestles fell from the east; he pointed west, and they came from the west; he pointed south, and they dropped from the south; he pointed north, and they scattered from the north. Though the True Lord had such powers, facing countless pestles that kept coming one after another, he still couldn’t achieve victory.

Suddenly, Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva heard about this from the sky and said, “Ao Qin the Dragon King is extremely kind-hearted, yet he gave birth to such an unworthy son who helped the demon dragon. If I don’t take away his precious pestle, even though Xu Xun has magical powers, he’ll be at a loss.” So she rode on auspicious clouds, untied a sash from her body in mid-air, and created a trap to catch all those countless pestles. Seeing someone trying to take away his treasure, the Crown Prince panicked and fled in defeat. When he met the evil dragon, he asked, “Did you win the battle against Xu Xun?” The Crown Prince replied, “I was on the verge of winning against Xu Xun when suddenly a woman used a trap to take away my treasure. Now I have nowhere to get it back!” The evil dragon said, “The one who took your treasure isn’t anyone else but Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva.” Before he could finish speaking, the True Lord arrived. Upon seeing him, the evil dragon transformed into a gust of black wind and fled. The Crown Prince, still resentful, picked up his steel sword again and prepared to fight once more.

But this was a defeated warrior, no longer brave. After just a few exchanges, the True Lord used his left hand to block the crown prince’s sword with his own sword, then used his right hand to strike at the crown prince. Suddenly, someone shouted from behind, “Don’t do it! Don’t do it!” The True Lord looked up and saw it was Avalokiteshvara, so he stopped his sword. Avalokiteshvara said, “This boy is the third son of Ao Qin the Dragon King. By helping the evil dragon without reason, he deserves death. But since his father is kind-hearted, and I’m here now, if I kill him, the Dragon King will say I didn’t save him, which wouldn’t look good for me.” That’s why the True Lord stopped attacking.

Meanwhile, the river-patrolling Yaksha returned to the Dragon Palace and recounted in detail to the Dragon King how the crown prince had assisted the evil dragon. The Dragon King stamped his feet in anger and cursed, “How unfilial this wretch is!” At that time, the Dragon King of the East Sea, Ao Shun, the Dragon King of the West Sea, Ao Guang, and the Dragon King of the North Sea, Ao Run, were all gathered there. They said as well, “This creature will go fight Xu Xun today—just like Ge Bo who was at odds with Tang. By aiding the evil dragon, he’s like Chong Hou who supported Zhou in his tyranny. We can’t tolerate him!” Ao Qin said, “If such a son exists, what’s the use of keeping him?”

He then took a sharp sword and issued an order, commanding the Yaksha to go and tell the crown prince to commit suicide. The Yaksha received the order and the precious sword, and went straight to see the third crown prince. Upon hearing the reason, the crown prince was terrified and knelt before Guanyin, pleading, “Kind Bodhisattva! There’s no other way—please intercede with my father to spare my life this time.” Guanyin replied, “I’m afraid your father won’t forgive you for such a grave crime. It would be better for you to hide in Eagle Worry Gorge in Snake Coiling Valley. Three hundred years later, when Tang Sanzang goes to the Western Heaven to fetch Buddhist scriptures, I’ll arrange for you to turn into a donkey and carry the scriptures back to India. Then you can atone for your sins. I’ve already spoken to your father about this; perhaps he’ll spare you.” With tears in his eyes, the crown prince bid farewell to Guanyin and headed to Eagle Worry Gorge. Guanyin then handed the iron pestle she had collected to the Yaksha, instructing him to deliver it to the Dragon King. The True Lord also bid farewell to Guanyin and returned to Yuzhang—no further need to mention this.

Meanwhile, after parting from the True Lord, Guanyin Bodhisattva wanted to return to Putuo Rock. Along the way, the evil dragon came to pay his respects, seeking reconciliation with the True Lord, promising to reform and no longer cause harm. His words were very earnest. Seeing his sincere attitude, Guanyin changed her course and went to meet the True Lord. The True Lord asked, “Great Sage, what advice do you have now?” Guanyin replied, “I’ve come here with nothing special. The evil dragon wants to make peace with you and reform from now on. I wonder if you’ll agree?” The True Lord said, “If he really wants peace, he must cross a hundred rivers within one night, stopping at the crowing of the rooster. If even one fails, I won’t allow it.” Guanyin then left the True Lord. His disciple Wu Meng advised, “That evil beast hasn’t changed his heart—don’t agree to it.” The True Lord replied, “Of course I know that. But in Jiangxi, floods often occur during spring rains. I just want him to open up hundreds of rivers to drain the water, not truly seek peace. I’ll instruct the God of Agriculture to hinder his efforts so that he can’t complete all hundred rivers. Then he won’t be able to escape punishment, yet I won’t break my promise to Guanyin.”

Meanwhile, the evil dragon met with Guanyin and asked why. Guanyin told him everything the True Lord had demanded. The evil dragon was overjoyed. That night, he used all his magical powers to keep crossing rivers until dawn. By then, the God of Agriculture counted and found that he had crossed ninety-nine rivers. Panicked, the God of Agriculture pretended the rooster to crow, causing all the roosters to crow as well. Hearing this, the evil dragon was terrified, realizing he couldn’t avoid punishment. He transformed into a young man and fled to Huguang before dawn to hide. When dawn came, the True Lord counted the rivers and found that only one was missing. Since all the roosters had crowed, he knew it was the God of Agriculture’s trick.

Also, he ordered his disciples to calculate their merits and receive rewards. By the time the True Lord rushed to search for the evil dragon, its whereabouts were already unknown. Later, a county was established at the river mouth, which is today’s Hukou County in Nankang.

It is said that the evil dragon took refuge in Huanggang County under the jurisdiction of Huangzhou Prefecture, transforming itself into a young scholar seeking lodging. At that time, there was an elderly man named Shi Ren, who was quite wealthy and had more than ten grandchildren. He was about to hire a teacher to run a school. When the evil dragon arrived at his house, it claimed to be Zeng Liang from Yuzhang, saying, “I heard your family has a school, so I came specifically to learn from you.” Elder Shi, seeing that the man had noble character and was polite and respectful, was secretly pleased. But he didn’t know what level of knowledge the man possessed. So he said, “In my hometown, we test newcomers by giving them essays or asking them questions before admitting them as students. I have a question for you; would you like to hear my answer?”

The evil dragon replied, “I’d like to hear it.”

Elder Shi said, “Add four dots to Mr. Zeng’s waist, and he becomes a virtuous scholar of the Lu state.”

The evil dragon said, “Then I’ll use your grandson as the answer.” It replied, “Add a horizontal line above young Shi’s head, and he becomes an official in the Ministry of Personnel.” Seeing that the scholar’s answer was excellent, Elder Shi was overjoyed. He said, “You possess great talent and profound knowledge, but my humble home has little income as a teacher, so I can’t easily offer you a position.” The evil dragon replied, “I’m just here to study temporarily; why worry about profit?” So Elder Shi chose a day to hold a ceremony, having all his grandchildren prepare gifts as a sign of respect. After the ceremony, the evil dragon became his student. It taught those students, resolving their doubts, explaining texts, and guiding them clearly, so that the students made great progress, needless to say.

It is said that after the evil dragon rolled itself into the river, the True Lord searched everywhere but couldn’t find it. So he went to Huguang together with two villagers, Gan Zhan and Shi Cen, to look for its trace. Suddenly, they sensed an evil aura coming from a household owned by someone surnamed Shi in Huanggang County. They went there immediately. Upon arriving at a schoolhouse, they realized that the evil dragon was there, disguised as a scholar, teaching students. The True Lord then asked the students, “Where has the teacher gone?”

The students replied, “The teacher went to bathe.”

The True Lord asked, “Where exactly is he bathing?”

The students said, “In the stream.”

The True Lord said, “In such cold weather in November, why bathe in cold water?”

The student said, “The master is a kind-hearted man. Whether in cold or hot weather, he always goes into the water to bathe. If he bathes for a long time, he might not return for two or three hours.” The immortal then sat with his disciples in the pavilion, waiting for him to return before taking action. Suddenly, looking up, he saw a couplet on the pillar: “The orphan of the Zhao family never forgets the butcher Jia; the heroic Wu Yuan still hates King Ping of Chu even after his death.”

There were also lines of poetry inscribed on the wall:

I lament that fortune has been unkind over the years; my descendants are scattered, none left behind. My heart yearns for the vast waves of the East Sea; my spirit suppresses the grass and trees of the West River. In anger, I grit my teeth, thinking of old grudges; in passion, I pick up my pen to write new poems. If a man does not fulfill his ambitions, he wastes his naturally tall frame.

When the immortal finished reading the poem and the couplet, he was greatly shocked. He said to his disciples, “These poems and couplets are all about revenge. If this evil is not eliminated, it will eventually cause great trouble. You must strive hard to capture him!” Before he could finish speaking, an old historian came to the pavilion to see Sun Tzu studying. It was deep winter, and the old historian wore a sheepskin coat and a warm hat as he approached slowly. Seeing the immortal’s extraordinary appearance, he quickly bowed and asked, “Where are you coming from, sir?” The immortal replied, “I am from Yuzhang and have come to visit a friend.” The old historian said to Sun Tzu, “With a guest here, why didn’t you let me know?” He then invited the immortal and his two disciples to his home for tea. After drinking tea, the old historian asked the immortal’s name. The immortal said, “My surname is Xu and my name is Sun. These two disciples’ surnames are Shi and Cen, respectively, and Gan and Zhan, respectively.” The old historian said, “I’ve heard that Mr. Xu possesses wonderful magic skills, capable of destroying dragon spirits. Could you be that person?” The immortal replied, “Yes.” The old historian immediately bowed. Considering his age, the immortal quickly returned the bow. The old historian asked, “Why have you come here, sir?” The immortal replied, “Your family’s Sun Tzu is actually an evil dragon spirit who has taken on a human form here. I’ve been tracking him and have come specifically to capture him.” The old historian was shocked and said, “No wonder this master, regardless of weather, goes to bathe in that gully every day. It used to be shallow, but now it has become an unfathomably deep pool.” The immortal said, “Old man, you are fortunate to have met me for help. Otherwise, today your house would be destroyed, and tomorrow your rivers would be ruined—your family would end up buried in fish bellies.”

The old historian asked, “How can we capture this dragon spirit?” The immortal replied, “This evil one can transform in countless ways. If he guards against me, capturing him will be difficult. Fortunately, he may not yet be aware of it. Even if he tries to transform, he will need water. You should ensure that no water is filled into any containers such as water jars, basins, or bowls, so that he cannot transform and I can easily capture him.” After giving these instructions, the old historian left. Just then, the evil dragon returned from bathing to the pavilion. When the immortal saw him, he shouted loudly:

“Where has that wretched beast gone?” The evil dragon was terrified. It tried to transform by seeking water, but found none everywhere except for a tiny amount left in the ink pond. So it transformed and left from there, and its whereabouts became unknown. Later generations composed a poem lamenting: “It’s sad that such a cunning dragon exists; its transformations in the ink pond are still told to this day.”

“If only it had turned to righteousness at that time, it could have obtained the sacred book and ascended to heaven.”

When Master Shi saw the true master rushing after the evil dragon, he was extremely grateful. He invited the true master to stay for several days and treated him with great hospitality. The true master said, “The evil dragon has lived here for a long time; there’s a risk of the area sinking. You might bring a piece of fir wood over. I’ll write an incantation and embed it in the ground, which should help suppress it.” After completing the ritual, feeling grateful for Master Shi’s kindness, the true master took out a spirit pill and turned a piece of stone into gold, worth about three hundred taels, as a gift before leaving. Shi Cen said, “Now we don’t know where the evil dragon has hidden. We can search throughout Huguang to find it and punish it.” The true master replied, “Perhaps seeing us here, it has gone to Yuzhang, intending to sink the city and its lands. It’s hard to say. It’s better to return home first to look for its trace; if it’s not there, it’s not too late to go out and search.” So the disciples returned home together.

As for the evil dragon, after transforming in the ink pond, it turned into a handsome young man and fled to Changsha Prefecture. There it heard that the prefect Jia Yu had a daughter of great beauty. Her features were as follows: eyebrows like emerald feathers, skin like refined fat, teeth like ivory, hands like tender buds. Her face resembled peach petals, and her hair was adorned with golden phoenix threads. Her gaze was enchanting, and her posture delicate and charming—far surpassing even Wang Zhaojun of the Han court, Xi Shi of the Wu palace, Fei Yan of the Zhao family, or the Imperial Concubine of the Yang family. Her waist swayed gently like willows, and her steps moved lightly like those of a lotus, her limbs as smooth as jade. Even Chang’e in the moon couldn’t compare to her, let alone the immortals in the heavens.

The evil dragon then went to become acquainted with Prefect Jia Yu. Jia Yu asked, “Who are you, sir?” He replied, “My surname is Shen, and my name is Lang. I’m from Jinling. Since childhood, I’ve been well-versed in the classics, but unfortunately my career hasn’t progressed, so now I’m just a merchant traveling between the north and south. On a trip to Guangnan to sell goods, I obtained several hu of precious pearls. Since ordinary people don’t know what to do with them, I’ve brought them here as a gift for you. I hope you’ll kindly accept them!” Prefect Jia said, “These treasures are the result of your own efforts. Moreover, since we’ve only met by chance, how dare I accept such a generous gift?”

He refused repeatedly. But Shen Lang insisted so much that the prefect finally accepted them. After staying for a few days, the prefect noticed Shen Lang’s polite and humble demeanor, as well as his handsome appearance. He was skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting; he was also proficient in archery and weapons.

He had become well-acquainted with them. Thus, the magistrate wanted to give his daughter in marriage to him. Shenlang bowed in gratitude and also offered generous gifts to win over the magistrate’s trusted men, who all praised Shenlang’s virtues. The magistrate then chose an auspicious day to arrange a marriage between his daughter and Shenlang, with no further delay.

After getting married at the Jia family’s residence, whenever spring or summer came, Shenlang would inform the magistrate, claiming to go on business trips along the rivers and lakes. In autumn and winter, he would return with ships loaded full of rare treasures. The magistrate was overjoyed, saying, “I have obtained an excellent son-in-law!” Unbeknownst to him, Shenlang was actually a dragon spirit. All the wealth he acquired came from flooding during spring and summer, when he overturned boats and stole people’s treasures, then took them back. After three years of living there as a son-in-law, Shenlang had three sons. One day, filled with anger, he thought to himself, “My family has lived in Yuzhang for generations; we had over a thousand relatives, but all were wiped out by Xu Sun, who destroyed our home and left me with nowhere to live. Although I hide here, my resentment remains unrelieved. Now that so much time has passed, I assume Xu Sun no longer remembers me. I intend to return to Yuzhang, unleash a great flood to drown the cities and counties, and destroy Xu Sun’s clan to avenge my past grievances.”

After saying this, he went to see the magistrate. The magistrate asked, “What do you have to say, my dear son-in-law?” Shenlang replied, “The spring breeze is warm now, making it suitable for going out on business. I’ve come to bid farewell to my father-in-law before leaving. Please take care of my wife and children.” The magistrate said, “Go ahead without worry. If you make a profit, return soon.” With that, they parted.

In the seventh year of the Yongjia era of the Jin dynasty, the True Lord and his disciples Gan Zhan and Shi Cen inspected various cities, searching for those evil dragons. After three years, they found no trace of them and gave up looking for them. Unexpectedly, this evil dragon came to seek its own destruction. One day, a disciple reported that a young man, handsome and well-dressed, had come to see the True Lord. The True Lord ordered him to enter and asked, “Where are you from?” The young man replied, “My surname is Shen, and my name is Lang. I’m from Jinling. I’ve long heard that you possess the power to control heaven and earth and subdue evil dragons—a skill unmatched in the world. I’ve come to meet you to fulfill my desire to know you personally; nothing else.” The True Lord said, “Since the evil spirits haven’t been eliminated, such claims are just empty talk. How shameful!” After saying this, the young man took his leave. The True Lord saw him off. Gan and Shi asked, “Who is that young man just now?” The True Lord replied, “That’s the evil dragon. It’s come to test me.” Gan and Shi asked, “How do you know?” The True Lord said, “I could tell because there was still an evil aura about him, and a foul smell surrounded him.” Gan and Shi said, “If that’s the case, we should capture and punish him. Why did you let him go?” The True Lord replied, “I’ve tried to capture him four times, but he always managed to escape by transforming.”

and vanished. Now, pretending not to know, we can make him less vigilant so that we may capture him easily.” Shi Cen then asked.
Gan replied, “At this moment, we don’t know where to flee. The two of us are willing to go and kill it.” The True Lord used his divine eyes to look and said, “It is now in Jianghu, transformed into a yellow ox, lying on the sandbank of the county town. I will transform into a black ox and fight it. You two can take your precious swords and sneak over to observe. Once it grows tired, draw your swords and strike—it must be slain.”
With that, he transformed into a black ox and rushed off. Truly,
its four hooves were as firm as those of a mountain tiger, and its horns were sharp like those of a sea dragon. Now they clashed by the sandbank—truly, the transformations of immortals are endless.
The True Lord, turned into a black ox, arrived at the sandbank first and began fighting the yellow ox. After fighting for about two hours, Gan and Shi sneaked up and saw the two oxen battling. When the yellow ox grew tired, Shi Cen swung his sword, hitting its left thigh. Gan also raised his sword and cut one of its horns. The yellow ox ran into a well to the south of the city, and its horn fell to the ground. There is now an island called Yellow Ox Island where the two meet.
That horn later became sentient, often transforming into an ox to harm merchant ships, without fail.
Meanwhile, the True Lord said to Gan and Shi, “Since the evil dragon has entered the well, its lair must be here. I will send talisman bearers and soldiers to lead the way. You two can follow behind me, track its movements, discover its lair, and capture and kill it to eliminate future threats.” With that, the True Lord jumped into the well. Gan and Shi also jumped in. The talisman bearers guided the True Lord forward. Though the mouth of the well was narrow, beneath it lay a whole world. Here was one opening, through which another opening could be seen; just like the twenty-four pleasure districts in Hangzhou City, connected one after another; or like the thirty-six bays in Dragon Cave Harbor, meeting one after another. Ordinary people say that frogs in wells see only a small world, because they have never been to such a place and seen such a vast world. The True Lord followed the talisman bearers along, when suddenly he saw an object—neither long nor short, round, resembling a pestle. Gan looked up and saw it was a wheel axle.
He asked the True Lord, “How did such a wheel axle end up in this well?” The True Lord replied, “In ancient times, during the Han Dynasty, there was a man named Chen Zun. Whenever he hosted guests, he would close the door and throw wheel axles into the well, even in urgent situations...”

“One must not go yet. One must drink first, and only then can one retrieve the carriage handle and return it to the person. Later, there was another carriage handle, but it couldn’t be retrieved—turns out the water had risen to that spot.”

After walking a few more miles, suddenly they saw an object that was square and fresh-looking. Shi Cen picked it up to take a look; it turned out to be a seal box. He asked the True Lord, who replied, “In ancient times during the Han Dynasty, there was an eunuch named Zhang Rang who tried to seize the throne from the emperor. He went as far north as the riverbank and threw the imperial jade seal into a well, where no one ever knew about it again. Later, a column of multicolored light rose from a well in Li Palace south of Luoyang City, straight into the sky. Sun Jian recognized this as an omen of treasure, so he ordered the well to be dug, and thus the jade seal was recovered. The seal was taken away, but this box was left behind.” After walking a few more miles, they suddenly saw another object that shone brightly, was white and pure, with a curved mouth and a large belly. Gan Zhan picked it up to examine it; it turned out to be a silver bottle. Gan Zhan asked the True Lord again, who said, “I once heard a woman chant, ‘Grinding a jade hairpin on a stone—the hairpin breaks before it’s finished. Pulling up a silver bottle from the bottom of a well—the rope breaks before it reaches the top.’ This silver bottle must have been pulled up by that woman; because the rope broke, it ended up here.”

The talisman bearer said, “The evil dragon has fled for quite some time; the true immortal must hurry after it. There’s no time for old stories along the way.” So the True Lord ordered his disciples to hurry forward. In the waters, all living creatures were terrified at the sight of him—the trout just opened their mouths, the turtles retracted their necks, the shrimps bent their backs, and the carp wagged their tails. But the True Lord paid them no attention. The talisman bearer led the True Lord around another bend, until they reached a place where the mountains ended and the water stopped—right at Jia Yu’s well in Changsha Prefecture. The True Lord said, “Now we’ve found its lair.” He then bid farewell to the talisman bearer and went to search for it himself.

As for the evil dragon spirit, after leaving the well, it transformed back into Shen Lang and entered Master Jia’s residence. When Master Jia saw his disheveled appearance, the whole family was shocked. He asked what had happened. Shen Lang replied, “I gained great wealth on my journey, but unfortunately, on my way back, I encountered thieves who stole all my possessions. I was also injured in the left forehead and thigh; the pain is unbearable.” Master Jia saw the wounds and felt deep sympathy, so he sent his servants to find a doctor to treat him. The True Lord disguised himself as a doctor and ordered Gan and Shi to pretend to be his two apprentices. This doctor—wise and virtuous, skilled in identifying medicines suitable for different patients—knew how to diagnose illnesses through inspection, auscultation, interrogation, and pulse-taking. He knew exactly how to use medicines effectively. Wearing a Tang-style cap and a Taoist robe, he moved gracefully; holding a feather fan and carrying a gourd, he appeared elegant. He could diagnose illnesses by checking the pulse at three different points, distinguishing between evil pathogens and chronic ailments—no need for complicated procedures. He could cure people of all three categories of illness, bringing them back to life with just a simple gesture. Truly, he was like Bian Que from the Spring and Autumn period reborn in the Eastern Jin Dynasty; in fact, he was like Shennong from ancient times, appearing once again in the lands of the West River. Throughout the ages, he was hailed as the greatest physician, with a heart full of compassion for living beings.

It is said that the True Lord disguised himself as a doctor. When the servants of the Jia family saw him, they invited him in. Upon entering the lord’s residence, they exchanged formal greetings. The lord said, “My son-in-law is abroad doing business when he was attacked by thieves, sustaining wounds to his left forehead and left thigh. Do you have any miraculous medicine to cure him? I would be grateful for your help.” The True Lord replied, “For wounds caused by a sword, I have a wonderful method—he will be healed immediately upon treatment.” The lord was overjoyed and promptly called Shen Lang to treat him. At that time, the dragon spirit was lying in the room. It asked the servants, “Is there only one doctor?” The servants replied, “There are also two apprentices.” The dragon spirit suspected it was the True Lord and dared not show itself easily. Its wife, Lady Jia, urged it, “The doctor is already here—why don’t you come out?” Shen Lang said, “You don’t understand. Whether he cures me or not, it will still be this doctor.” Lady Jia was completely confused. Seeing that Shen Lang wouldn’t come out, the lord went into the room himself to call him. The True Lord followed the lord inside and shouted loudly, “You wretched beast! Dare you run away again?” Cornered and with no choice, the dragon spirit transformed back into its true form and slithered out of the room. But the True Lord had already set a trap, capturing it alive. He then sprayed magical water on its three offspring, turning them all into small dragons. The True Lord drew his sword and killed them all. At that moment, Jia Yu’s daughter also tried to transform, but Shi Cen captured her alive, much to Lord Jia’s shock. The True Lord said, “Shen Lang is the essence of that evil dragon. Now he has taken human form and worships you as his father-in-law. I am Xu Sun from Yuzhang; I’ve pursued him here to capture him. Your daughter has now become a dragon too and deserves my sword.”

Lord Jia and his wife knelt before the True Lord and pleaded, “Our daughter has been corrupted by the dragon spirit—it’s not her fault. Please show mercy and forgive her!” The True Lord then gave the Jia daughter a sacred talisman for her to wear, preventing her from transforming.

The True Lord said to the lord, “Where the dragon spirit lives, there is water beneath. Your house is less than a foot deep, and it’s full of springs. You should move to another place quickly to avoid disaster!” The whole family was terrified and hurriedly moved to a higher area. Within a few days, their original home turned into an unfathomably deep pit—this is today’s Zhaotan in Changsha Prefecture. Shi Cen took the evil dragon out of the trap, ready to strike it down with his sword. The True Lord said, “Killing this evil creature is easy, but capturing it is difficult. I think Jiangxi is a floating land, with dragon lairs beneath it. There’s a well south of the city that has no bottom; its level rises and falls with the river. It would be better to lock this beast back there. I’ll use an iron tree to seal the well and tie this evil creature to it. If future dragon spirits see this beast suffering, they may be deterred from causing harm.” Gan Zhan agreed, “Good!” So they locked the evil dragon and returned to Yuzhang. There, they sent divine soldiers to forge an iron tree, which was placed in the well south of the city. Iron chains were used to secure it, stabilizing the earth’s energy and binding the evil dragon to the tree. They prayed, “If the iron tree blooms, those demons will rise again, and I shall return. If the tree remains upright, those demons will be eradicated forever. Water demons will stay hidden, and the cities will be safe.”

It is also recorded as follows:

In Tieshu Town of Hongzhou, peace lasts forever. Even in times of great chaos throughout the world, this place remains free from worries. During severe droughts, harvests here are still modest.

Wu Quanjie of the Yuan dynasty wrote a poem:

The eight ropes crisscross, forming the earth’s veins;
The waters rise and fall, determining the river’s flow.
Yuzhang is a blessed land created by heaven;
A pillar standing firm in the sky, remembered through ages.

The True Lord also cast iron talismans and placed them in Poyang Lake. He also covered Lingyuan Pond with iron, leaving behind a sword there to this day. Additionally, he established a government at the top of Tiaoyao Mountain—all to suppress future threats.

Having subdued the demons, the True Lord achieved great merit throughout the universe. In the second year of Tai Ning during the reign of Emperor Ming of Jin, the great general Wang Dun, styled Chuzhong, was stationed in Wuchang. He raised an army and marched inland, reaching Dongting Lake. The True Lord and Lord Wu went together to persuade him, aiming to stop Wang Dun and preserve the Jin dynasty. At that time, Guo Jingchun was also in Wang Dun’s camp, allowing the three of them to meet. Jingchun said to the True Lord, “You have slain the dragon spirit; your deeds are perfect. Moreover, the spiritual energy in the Western Mountains is abundant—soon you will ascend to higher realms.” The True Lord expressed his gratitude.

One day, Jingchun, along with the True Lord and Lord Wu, went to visit Wang Dun. Seeing the three of them arrive together, Wang Dun was overjoyed and ordered his servants to prepare a feast. When they had drunk half their wine, Wang Dun asked, “Last night I had a dream in which a tree pierced through the sky. I don’t know whether this is an omen of good or bad.” The True Lord replied, “A tree piercing the sky forms the character for ‘wei.’ You should not act rashly.” Lord Wu said, “My master’s words are truly prescient—be careful!” Hearing their words, Wang Dun became very displeased and ordered Guo Pu to divine the matter. Guo Pu said, “These numbers indicate that the general’s plans will fail.” Wang Dun, annoyed, asked, “How long is my life?” Guo Pu replied, “If the general undertakes a major venture, disaster will soon follow; but if he returns to Wuchang, his lifespan cannot be predicted.” Wang Dun flew into anger and ordered his soldiers to capture and execute Guo Pu. The True Lord and Lord Wu raised their cups, transformed into a pair of white cranes, and flew around the rooftops. Wang Dun looked up at the cranes but lost track of the two men.

As for Guo Pu, after his death, his family prepared clothes, bedding, and a coffin for burial. Three days later, people in the market saw him dressed neatly, greeting friends and relatives as usual. Wang Dun, not believing it, ordered the coffin opened—sure enough, there was no body inside.

It was then that he realized the true meaning of shedding worldly attachments and ascending to immortality. Afterward, Wang Dun’s military campaign failed, and he returned to Wuchang where he died, ultimately suffering the punishment of dismemberment—this because he did not heed the advice of those three rulers, leading him to such a fate.

Now, let us talk about Lord Wu inviting the True Lord to go together to Jinling to enjoy the scenery of mountains and rivers. Later, they wanted to buy a boat to travel to Yuzhang, but a constant headwind prevented them from moving forward. The people on the boat said, “It’s mid-summer now, with strong southern winds; it’s difficult for the boat to move forward. What should we do?” The True Lord said, “I will steer the boat for you. You just need to close your eyes and sit quietly, never opening them to look around.” Lord Wu stood at the bow, while the True Lord personally steered the boat. Then he summoned two black dragons to carry the boat forward. As they passed through Chiyang, he used the seal of the Primordial Infinite Thunder Palace to imprint it on the western cliff face in order to ward off water monsters; traces of this seal can still be seen today. Gradually, the boat rose into the air, and soon it crossed the mountains and reached Yunxiao Peak. The two lords wanted to see the scenery inside the cave abode, so they scraped against the trees at the bow of the boat, making a scraping sound. The boatmen could not bear it anymore and peeked secretly. Suddenly, the boat was left atop the layered cliffs, with its mast broken in a deep ravine—this place is now known as Tiechuan Peak. Below it lie broken rocks, which were once the mast. The True Lord said to the boatmen, “You didn’t listen to me, and now this has happened. Where will you go now?” The boatmen bowed humbly, asking for a way to be saved. The True Lord taught them to take spiritual medicines, allowing them to fast without hunger. They then hid beneath Zixiao Peak. The two lords each rode a dragon back to Yuzhang, where they resumed their former life of seclusion, spending their days discussing the true essence of spirituality. They composed a song titled “Song of Yearning for Immortality”: “The cycle of heaven moves swiftly like flight; what is the purpose of living in this world? Striving for fame and profit only leads to ruin; who truly understands the pleasures of love and nature? It’s better to ascend to the Golden Peak, drinking and singing as the sun sets in the west. Cinnabar nurtures the Jade Dragon Pool; a small ladle holds an endless world. Let people not call it foolishness—laughing heartily, one can unite with heaven and earth.”

He also wrote eight teachings: Loyalty, filial piety, integrity, and prudence; generosity and tolerance. With loyalty, one does not deceive; with filial piety, one does not go against duty. Be honest without greed, and be prudent without making mistakes. By cultivating oneself in this way, one can achieve virtue. With generosity, one gains the support of others; with abundance, one has plenty. By being tolerant, one accepts everything; by being patient, one finds peace. Treating others with courtesy eliminates resentment and blame. All my disciples must be diligent in both action and stillness, always keeping this in mind. Those who lose this mindset will be punished by the Three Officials.

Now, let us talk about the Three Elements, Three Ranks, and Three Great Officials of the heavens, waters, and earth realms, as well as Tai Bai Jinxing. They said that the True Lord was originally an immortal from the Jade Cave Heaven who descended to earth. Now, by eliminating evil forces and benefiting all living beings, he has great virtue and achievements. His disciples, such as Wu Meng, assisted him in attaining the supreme path, and all of them deserve to be promoted to higher positions in heaven. After discussion, they prepared a memorial to present to the Jade Emperor. The Jade Emperor approved it and appointed Xu Sun as the Nine Heavens Supreme Immortal Envoy and also the High Enlightenment Envoy, granting him the title of Filial King. His distant ancestors and forefathers also received corresponding positions. First, Cui Ziwen and Duan Qiuzhong, the Nine Heavens Envoys, were sent down with an imperial edict to inform Xu Sun of the date of his ascension, as a reward for his goodness. The two envoys carried the edict down to the mortal world during the reigns of Emperor Xiaowu and Ningkang of the Jin Dynasty.

In the year Jiaxu, the True Lord was 136 years old. On the first day of the eighth month, he saw clouds and a retinue descending from heaven, with many followers, arriving in his courtyard. After the True Lord welcomed them and bowed, the two immortals said, “By the decree of the Jade Emperor, we bring you an imperial edict. Prepare incense, flowers, lamps, and candles, dress neatly, kneel at the steps, and listen to its reading!”

The edict read:

Imperial Edict to the Immortal Youth Xu Sun: In past eons, you have diligently practiced the Way, putting in great effort. You have thoroughly mastered all celestial and earthly principles; every method and discipline has been studied by you. You have rescued those in distress, eliminated harm and demons, and done much to benefit living beings, earning a high place in the records of the immortals.

It is fitting that you be promoted. You may assume the positions of Grand Envoy of the Nine Provinces and High-Wise Envoy, as well as the role of Venerable King. You are granted a purple brocade robe, feathered cloak, jade standard, and precious scepter—each one. You are expected to leave your home and ascend to heaven at noon on the 15th day of the eighth month. Once this edict arrives, it must be obeyed without delay.

After reading it, the True Lord bowed again, then ascended the steps to receive the edict. Afterward, he invited the two immortals to sit and asked for their names. The two immortals replied, “We are Cui Ziwen and Duan Qiu Zhong; we have both been appointed as envoys to the Nine Heavens.” The True Lord said, “What merits or abilities do I possess that could move the Heavenly Emperor enough to send you two here?” The immortals replied, “You have cultivated yourself and helped others, fulfilling your duties fully. Yesterday, the other immortals recommended your promotion to the ranks of the immortals, and we came to greet you. We were sent first to deliver this edict to you.” With that, they left on a dragon chariot.

After receiving the heavenly document, the True Lord’s disciples such as Wu Meng, along with the elders and relatives, all knew that the time for departure was near. They gathered day and night to partake in meals and express their feelings. The True Lord said to everyone, “To achieve the path of immortality, one must first practice goodness before achieving merits. In the 1,240 years after my departure, within the region of Yuzhang and the Five Mausoleums, more than 800 earthly immortals will emerge. Their teacher will come from Yuzhang and spread my teachings widely. It will be at that time when the branches of the pine tree in front of my altar hang down and cover the ground, and a sandbank suddenly forms in the middle of the river, blocking the well mouth.” Later people said, “When Longsha comes together, true immortals will surely appear.” Longsha is located on the west bank of the Zhang River, opposite the city; this is recorded in the “Chronicles of Longsha.” Pan Qingyi wrote a five-character poem titled “Gazing at Longsha”:

In the Five Mausoleums, countless people live;
Pay close attention to the records of the pine and sand.
Though Longsha has not yet merged,
Its aura already seems different.
Once, waves and clouds roamed there;
Now half of it has become fields of mulberry and hemp.
The land curves along the river;
The mountains seem to connect seamlessly.

It was the full moon day of the eighth month, a time for a grand assembly in the main camp. All the villagers, as well as relatives, friends, and disciples, young and old, gathered together. At noon, the sound of music could be heard from afar, with auspicious clouds surrounding the area as they gradually approached the gathering place. Feathered canopies and dragon chariots, celestial boys and maidens, officials, soldiers—all escorted the procession. Cui Ziwen and Duan Qiu Zhong, two celestial envoys, also arrived. The immortal lord greeted them. The two envoys then proclaimed an imperial edict: By imperial decree, the immortal boy Xu Sun, having achieved perfect virtue, was ordered by the deity in charge of hidden mountains to transmit the golden elixir to the mortal world and return his human body to heaven. His entire family, including household members and servants, was to be lifted up to heaven as well. Heavenly attendants and powerful warriors were assigned to use streams of gold and flaming bells to keep everyone together and prevent scattering. Xu You, the great-grandfather, was appointed as a minister in the Jade Void; Xu Yan, the great-uncle, became a general in the Taiwei Army, while his great-aunt became a lady of the Taiwei Court. Xu Su, his father, was granted the title of an immortal official of Zhongyue, and his mother, Lady Zhang, was titled Lady of Zhongyue. This edict was to be strictly followed!

After bowing twice to accept the edict, Cui Ziwen said, “Although your disciple community is large, aside from Chen Xun, Zeng Heng, Zhou Guang, Shi He, and others, Huang Renlan and his father, Mian Lie and his mother—a total of forty-two people—are those who should accompany you. The rest will have their own chance to ascend; they cannot all go.” With that, he helped the immortal lord onto the dragon chariot, and the forty-two members of his celestial family ascended together. The villagers and disciples who could not ascend refused to leave the immortal lord’s side; they clung to the chariot wheels, crying loudly, wishing to follow him but being unable to. The immortal lord said, “There are paths for immortals and mortals. As long as you practice filial piety and help others, why worry about not receiving rewards?” Xu Jianai, a descendant of the immortal lord, pleaded, “Since the immortal lord has ascended, there will be no one to guide future generations. Please leave something behind as a reminder for later days.” The immortal lord then left behind a meditation bell and a stone box, saying, “As times change, these will become relics of the past.” The immortal lord had a servant named Xu Da who, along with his wife, went to buy rice at West Mountain. Upon hearing of the immortal lord’s ascension, they rushed back home. In their haste, their cart overturned, spilling the rice on the ground. Yet the rice revived, and to this day, places like Fu Mi Gang and Sheng Mi Zhen still exist. When they arrived, they cried, asking to be allowed to join him. Since they lacked the aptitude for immortality, the immortal lord taught them the arts of earthly immortals, and the couple hid in West Mountain. Once the procession ascended, the houses, chickens, and dogs all went up as well. Only the rats, being unclean, were pushed back down by the heavenly soldiers. One rat fell and its intestines spilled out, but it survived despite this. Those who saw it later considered it an omen of good fortune. A medicine mortar and its pestle also fell, along with a chicken cage, located ten miles southeast of the house. Additionally, a golden hairpin belonging to Lady Xu fell down; to this day, Xu’s Hairpin Isle still exists. People at the time composed poems in praise of his ascension:

All admire Xu Jingyang for his kindness and benevolence,
His gifts to the people will never be forgotten.
He ascended through his own efforts,
His merits in both light and darkness moved the heavens.

The immortal’s chariot flew higher and higher until it disappeared from sight. Only auspicious clouds and rosy hues remained, filling the valley. Within a hundred miles, a sweet fragrance filled the air. Suddenly, a red brocade curtain flew over the former site.

It is said that when the Immortal Lord passed by Qiwu Mountain in Yichun County, Yuanzhou Prefecture, he sent two boys in green to inform Wang Shuo of the Jade Emperor’s decree, so as to come and say goodbye. Wang Shuo and his family bowed in reverence and said, “I have long followed the Taoist teachings imparted to me by my esteemed master; please allow me to accompany you!” The Immortal Lord replied, “Your immortal essence is not yet fully developed; you can only prolong your life, but it is difficult for me to take you with me.” Then he took a stem of fragrant grass and threw it down, instructing the two boys to give it to Wang Shuo, saying, “This grass has a special flavor. Plant it here, and by consuming it over time, you will achieve immortality. Its sweetness nourishes the flesh, its spiciness strengthens the joints, its bitterness nourishes the vital energy, its saltiness strengthens the bones, its smoothness nourishes the skin, and its sourness nourishes the tendons. It should be mixed with fine wine, and its effects will surely be seen.”

After saying this, he parted ways. Wang Shuo followed the Immortal Lord’s advice, planted the grass, mixed it with wine, and consumed it. He lived to be three hundred years old before passing away. The Yuxu Temple in Linjiang Prefecture is located at that very place. The fragrant grass still exists to this day. After the Immortal Lord ascended to heaven, the locals and his descendant Xu Jian built a shrine there. One hundred twenty poems left by him were written on bamboo slips and placed in large baskets, from which people would draw them to determine good or bad fortune. His practice tools such as bells, medicine rollers, mortars, and stone containers were also treasured in the shrine. Later, it was transformed into a temple. Because red brocade curtains floated in the air around it, it was named Youwei Temple.

Once the Immortal Lord reached the heavenly court, the Jade Emperor entered the hall. The two immortals Cui Ziwen and Duan Qiuzhong led the Immortal Lord and his disciples to wait for the imperial decree. The Jade Emperor summoned them to appear before him. The Immortal Lord raised dust in worship, prostrated himself at the golden steps, and submitted a report saying, “I, Xu Sun, am a mediocre and inferior person. Although I have achieved success in using spells and talismans to eliminate toxins, it was thanks to the efforts of my eleven disciples. Among my disciples, only Chen Xun, Zeng Heng, Zhou Guang, Shi He, Huang Renlan, and Mian Lie have been granted the honor of ascending to heaven by the emperor’s grace. There are still five others—Wu Meng, Shi Cen, Gan Zhan, Zhongli Jia, and Peng Kang—who have not been promoted, which is indeed a deficiency.”

He requested that they be treated equally and allowed to ascend to heaven together to achieve enlightenment. Upon hearing this, the Jade Emperor issued an imperial decree appointing Zhou Guang as an envoy to deliver the order, allowing the five men to ascend on the same day. Zhou Guang then bid farewell to the Jade Emperor and went down to announce the decree. This was on the first day of the ninth month in the second year of Jinning Kang. Wu Meng was then 186 years old. Seeing the Immortal Lord ascend without him, he felt very upset. He was returning to Xining with his four fellow cultivators—Shi Cen, Gan Zhan, Zhongli Jia, and Peng Kang—to gather and practice together. Suddenly, Zhou Guang arrived with the imperial decree. After everyone met, they asked about the reasons for his descent to the mortal world. Zhou Guang replied, “My master went before the Jade Emperor and reported that many of our fellow immortals had contributed greatly to our cultivation but had not yet been able to ascend. He pleaded with the Jade Emperor to promote them. The Jade Emperor then sent me with this decree to order the five of you to ascend and achieve enlightenment together.” The five men were overjoyed at these words. Each rode in a white deer carriage and ascended into the sky during the day. Today, there is the Wu Xian Temple in Wu Xian Village, which is the place where they ascended. However, more than three thousand people followed the Immortal Lord, and among them, only those who had merits and virtuous deeds were able to ascend.

There were only eleven disciples of Lord Wu. After the True Lord led his disciples to pay homage to the Jade Emperor, the Jade Emperor bestowed upon each of them immortal titles. Then he led all the disciples to pay respects to Grand Master Xiaoti Mingwang Wei Hong, Master Xiaoming Wang Lan Gong, and their mentors. They also thanked the Three Officials and Jin Xing for their efforts in recommending them. The True Lord further recommended two old acquaintances, Hu Yun from Xudu and Zhan from Yunyang—both men of virtue—and the Jade Emperor granted them the title of Immortals without hesitation.

It is said that after ascending to immortality, the True Lord repeatedly displayed his miraculous powers. Emperor Sui Yang was tyrannical; he destroyed Buddhist temples and ordered the destruction of Youwei Temple. During the Yongchun era of Emperor Tang Gaozong, an immortal named Hu Hui Chao was ordered to rebuild it. Emperors Song Taizong and Renzong both bestowed imperial edicts, and during Emperor Zhenzong’s reign, Youwei Temple was renamed Yulong Palace.

In the second year of the Zhenghe era in the Song dynasty, Emperor Huizong suddenly fell seriously ill, with malignant sores on his face. One day, while asleep, he had a dream in which he saw a Taoist priest at Donghua Gate, wearing a nine-flower crown and a purple robe, accompanied by young boys holding swords who led him forward. He knelt before the imperial dais. The emperor suspected he was not an ordinary human Taoist and asked, “Who are you?” The Taoist replied, “I am Xu Jingyang, temporarily in charge of the affairs of the nine heavens. The Supreme God ordered me to go to the country of Xi Quya for an inspection. Passing through my former homeland, I learned that your Majesty was ill, so I came to take care of you.” The emperor said, “I suffer from poisonous sores, and no medicine can cure them. Do you have any medicine?” The Taoist immediately took out a small ladle and poured out a pill the size of a mung bean. He blew on it and applied it to Huizong’s sores, then bowed and left, saying, “My humble abode on West Mountain in Hongzhou has long been in ruins. I earnestly hope for your holy gaze!” The emperor suddenly woke up, feeling coolness on his face. When he touched it, the sores were healed. He ordered his officials to investigate, and they found remnants of Xu Jingyang on West Mountain in Hongzhou. He ordered that a temple be built in honor of Lord Xu, renovated Yulong Palace, and added the words “Ten Thousand Years of Longevity” to it. A new statue of the True Lord was created, with the honorific title “True Lord of Divine Miracles and Wonders.”

Everything left by Lord Xu was protected by divine forces and could not be violated. For example, the cypress tree planted in front of the hall, whose health indicated the prosperity or decline of the palace. Boiling its leaves in water could cure various diseases. There was also an iron tree in the well. During the Tang dynasty, Yan Yan served as the governor of Hongzhou. Not believing it, he ordered it to be dug up. Suddenly, a storm broke out—with thunder, strong winds, overflowing rivers, and shaking city walls. Frightened, Yan Yan knelt down and apologized, and only after some time did the storm stop. He also tried to take the meditation bell and placed it in a monastery, but when struck, it made a dull sound like wood and earth. Yan Yan slept and dreamed that a divine being scolded him. When he woke up, the bell had been returned to the palace. There were also a grinding wheel and a medicine mortar. Xu Deng, the governor, ordered them to be brought to his office for inspection, but before he could even look at them, they flew back to the palace. There was also a stone box. During the Tang dynasty, Zhang Shan’an seized control of Hongzhou and forced open its lid. Inside, there were red-written numbers that read, “Five hundred years later, the bandit Zhang Shan’an will open it.” After reading this, Zhang Shan’an became afraid but still couldn’t erase the words. He hid the lid, yet the words remained on the bottom of the box. During the Jianyan era of Emperor Song Gaozong, the Jin people invaded the Jiangxi region and tried to burn down the palaces. Suddenly, water gushed out from the beams, preventing the fire from spreading. The enemy leaders were terrified and retreated. In the Ming dynasty, the emperors...

Jiayin was granted an imperial order to rebuild the palace. The True Lord frequently appeared to protect the country and practice medicine. During the Zhengde era in the Wuyin year, there were treacherous plots in Ning Prefecture. He personally went to his palace, where the True Lord descended with a writing brush and wrote:
“Three, three; two, two; two, three, three. Kill all those who dwell under the eaves in the south.”
“When the lotus leaves wither, yellow chrysanthemums bloom; the Great Ming will still rule over the land and rivers.”
As expected, those plots failed. The many miracles performed by the True Lord cannot be fully described. Later generations composed a poem expressing admiration:
“The golden scriptures and jade records cannot be preserved, but the eight-character testament can still be sought after. See how the True Lord’s meritorious deeds are so great that even the vast waters can be crossed with ease.”
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