Strange Tales from Liaozhai--Volume 4

by Pu Songling

  They saw a young male student, deep asleep on the embroidered bedding; when they looked more closely, they recognized him as Scholar Huo. When they gave him a shove, he awoke and hastily stood up, his eyes shining like shooting stars, and though he didn’t seem to be very fearful, he also blushed, and didn’t say a word.

  The servants began accusing him of being a thief, scaring him with their shouting. His tears began to fall as he told them, “I’m no thief, and the truth is that I’m here because I love Qing’e, and I wanted to be close to her sweet fragrance.” The servants were dubious that the numerous holes in several walls could have been made by a mere boy.

  Huo took out the spade and told them all about its strange ability. When they tried it out, they were utterly astonished, concluding that it must have been given to him by an immortal. They were on the verge of going to tell their mistress everything. Qing’e bowed her head, brooding, as though she didn’t want them to do it.

  When they noticed her attitude, they knew what she meant by it, and hence they said, “There’s certainly nothing wrong with this boy’s reputation and family status. It’d be better to let him go home, and then they can send another matchmaker. When she asks in the morning, we can tell the mistress that it was a thief who did this—how’s that?” Qing’e made no reply.

  The servants then urged Huo to get moving. The boy demanded his spade back from them. “Silly boy!” they all laughed. “You didn’t want to forget your burglar’s tool, did you?”

  Huo glanced down beside the girl’s pillow, where there was a hairpin in the shape of a phoenix, so he stealthily slipped it into his sleeve. One of the maidservants spied him doing so, and quickly informed Qing’e. The girl said nothing, but she also showed no sign of being angry about it.

  An old woman servant tapped him on the neck and remarked, “He’s no fool, and it’s very clear what’s on his mind.” Then they pulled him back over to the holes through which he’d come.

  After he returned home, he didn’t dare tell his mother what he’d done, but he urged her to send another go-between to Qing’e’s family. His mother couldn’t bear to refuse him overtly, so she contacted all of the matchmakers she could find, to see if they could quickly turn up another good marriage prospect for him.

  When Qing’e learned of this, she felt harried and agitated, and secretly sent a trusted maidservant to bring up the matter indirectly with Huo’s mother. His mother was delighted to learn there was support from the Wu family side, so she sent one of the matchmakers there.

  About that time, one of the maidservants disclosed the earlier matter of the holes to Qing’e’s mother, and when she learned of the disgraceful deed, she became absolutely furious. The go-between’s arrival provoked an even greater display of anger from her, as she took a stick and struck the ground, reviling Huo, and even directing some of her verbal abuse at his mother.

  The frightened go-between hurried back to Huo’s mother, and reported everything she’d just heard. Huo’s mother became equally angry and exclaimed, “I have no idea what my unworthy son has done. But why lash out at me, too! If they were engaged in sex, why didn’t someone just kill my libertine son and her wanton daughter?”

  From this point forward, she began telling her relatives everything that had happened. When Qing’e heard about it, she felt so embarrassed that she wanted to die. Her mother really regretted what she’d said, but she couldn’t stop Huo’s mother from speaking out.

  Qing’e secretly sent someone to smooth things over with Huo’s mother, conveying her vow that she would never marry anyone but Huo, expressed in an earnestly solemn rhetoric. Huo’s mother felt moved by this, and subsequently ceased her damaging comments; but because of the things that had been said to the relatives and the go-between, nothing went forward.

  It happened that in Shaanxi, a town magistrate named Ou had read Huo’s essays and thought highly of them, so he began frequently summoning the boy to his office, where he could bestow favors on him. One day, he asked Huo, “Are you married?”

  “Not yet,” the boy replied. After responding to Magistrate Ou’s inquiries, Huo then told him, “For some time, I’ve planned to make arrangements to marry Judicial Reviewer Wu’s daughter; but following a slight dispute, nothing has happened.”

  “Do you still wish to marry her?” asked Ou. Blushing, the shy Huo didn’t answer him. The magistrate laughed, and replied, “I’ll make sure that this time you succeed.” Thus he entrusted the local garrison commander and the local educational commissioner to send betrothal gifts to the Wu family. This made Qing’e’s mother very happy, and the marriage arrangements were settled.

  When a year had gone by, the girl was sent to her husband’s home. As Qing’e entered the gates there, she threw down the spade and exclaimed, “You can get rid of this robber’s tool!”

  With a laugh, Huo answered, “Don’t forget that it was our matchmaker.” Thereafter, he wore it at his waist like a valuable treasure, and never left without it.

  Qing’e was gentle and kindhearted, though reticent, and three times a day went to pay her respects to Huo’s mother; yet much of the time, she merely sat quietly behind closed doors, and took no interest in household activities. But if the mother happened to travel to a funeral or a wedding, Qing’e took charge of managing the household, and left nothing unattended.

  A year passed, and she bore Huo a son named Mengxian. She entrusted him entirely to a wet nurse, as though she had little love invested in his care. Then, four or five years later, she told Huo all of a sudden, “We’ve been fortunate and loving in our relationship for eight years up to this point. Now it seems that we will be parting for a long time, with only a short while left together, but there’s nothing to be done about it!”

  Huo was startled by this, but when he asked her what she meant, she turned silent, went and dressed herself in splendid attire, paid her respects to her mother-in-law, and then returned to her room. Huo went chasing after her, to ask her what was going on, and found her lying on her bed, as though asleep, having already breathed her last. Huo and his mother, grief-stricken in their mourning, purchased a coffin of good timber and had Qing’e buried.

  The mother-in-law, feeling old and decrepit, inevitably thought about little Mengxian’s mother as she held the boy in her arms, but these thoughts were devastating, and at that point she succumbed to an illness that left her so exhausted, she couldn’t get out of bed. Drink and food became noxious to her, but for some reason she kept thinking about fish soup, though there was no place close where it might be obtained, and one would have to travel a hundred li to be able to purchase any.

  At that time, all of the male servants had been sent riding off on business; but because Huo was a devotedly filial son, he was so anxious on his mother’s account that he couldn’t wait, thus he took some money and went off by himself, traveling day and night on foot, without stopping. By the time he returned to the mountains, the sun had already set, and his feet were so sore that he couldn’t walk any further.

  Subequently an old man arrived, and asked him, “Aren’t there blisters on your feet?” Huo readily agreed that there were. The old man pulled him over to sit down beside the path, struck some stones together to make a fire, then took some medicinal powder that was wrapped in paper and performed moxibustion on the bottom of Huo’s feet. When he tried walking afterwards, he discovered that not only had the pain ceased, but his feet felt twice as strong and vigorous as they had before. He was quite touched by this, and expressed his sincere gratitude.

  “What business has drawn you out so anxiously?” the old man asked him. Huo explained about his mother’s illness, and about the other incidents that had preceded it. “So why don’t marry someone else?” inquired the old man.

  Huo replied, “I haven’t come across anyone as beautiful.”

  The old man pointed to a mountain village off in the distance, and told him, “In that place, there’s such a beauty, and if you’ll follow me there, I should be able to
arrange something for you.”

  Huo declined, reasoning that he needed to take the fish soup to his ailing mother, and didn’t have the leisure to stay. The old man courteously folded his hands in farewell, informing Huo that if he ever happened to find himself in that village, he should ask for old Wang, then took his leave and departed.

  When Huo returned home, he warmed the fish soup and gave it to his mother. She immediately began to improve, and by several days later, was as healthy as ever. Then Huo summoned a servant to go with him on horseback to look for the old man.

  _______________________________

  Li: Distance equal to 1/3 mile.

  They came to the place were Huo had met Wang, but there was no sign of the village. Time passed as they kept looking everywhere, till the sun gradually set beyond the horizon; the mountain’s valleys were thick with undergrowth, so it was impossible to tell what might exist off in the distance.

  Then when the servant climbed up to the top of the mountain, he was able to locate a village below; but the mountain path was too rough and irregular for the horses to follow, so Huo had to go down on foot, while a shroud of mist obscured the village. Climbing down with small steps, he looked on all sides, but he couldn’t make out the village below.

  Just as he was on the verge of deciding to leave the mountain, he found that he’d lost his bearings regarding the way back home. He felt angry frustration flaring up in him like a consuming fire. He began irrationally scurrying around, and in the darkness, he fell off a precipice.

  Fortunately, several chi below there was some thick undergrowth covering a thin shelf of rock, and he fell onto it, though it was barely wide enough to hold his body, and below him he saw a bottomless abyss. Terrified of falling further, he didn’t dare move a muscle. He was lucky, however, that there were saplings growing out from the side of the cliff to hold his body there, like a railing.

  Moments later, he noticed that near his feet there was the entrance to a small cave; his heart leapt with joy, so with his back against the rocky cliff, he slid his way into the opening. Once he felt a little more secure, he began to look forward to the following morning, when he’d be able to call for help.

  Presently, he noticed that there was a tiny bit of light shining in the cavernous darkness. After approaching it gradually, for three or four li, he suddenly found himself looking at the veranda of a building, and though there were neither oil lamps nor candles in evidence, the light there was as bright as daytime.

  A beautiful woman stepped out of the house there, and as he looked closely at her, he recognized her as Qing’e. When she saw Huo, she asked in astonishment, “How did you get here?” Without a moment’s delay, he clutched at her sleeve, and began crying grievously. Qing’e soothed him till he stopped. Then when she asked about her mother-in-law and her son, Huo told her all about their hardships, and she also shared his sadness.

  “You died more than a year ago,” he then commented, “but this isn’t the underworld, is it?”

  “It’s not,” she replied, “but rather a residence of immortals. I didn’t really die before, and what you buried in my place was merely a bamboo cane. Now that you’ve come, it means that we’re to be together as immortals.”

  Then she led him to meet her father, who possessed a long, venerable beard, and was seated in a hall; Huo hastened to pay his respects to him. “Master Huo has come,” Qing’e declared.

  The old man seemed surprised, grasped Huo’s hands, and gave him a brief description of life there. He told Huo, “I’m so happy that you’ve come, so you can stay with us here.” Huo had to express his regrets that since his mother was far away, he couldn’t stay with them for long. “I’m aware of this,” he replied. “However, there can’t be any harm if you’re delayed for just a few days.” Then he enticed him with some wine and delicacies, directing a maidservant to prepare a bed for him in the west hall, and to bring out a brocade coverlet for him.

  After the others had left, Huo tried to get Qing’e to agree to sleep with him. Taken aback, she replied, “Do you think this is the kind of place where you can indulge your lusts?” Huo took her arm and wouldn’t let go. Hearing the sound of the maidservant’s derisive laughter outside the window, Qing’e became even more embarrassed.

  Then as she was struggling to resist Huo, her father entered, and rebuked him: “Your vulgar behavior has defiled my mountain hermitage! You should go!”

  Shamed more than he could stand, Huo petulantly vented his anger by exclaiming, “The passion between a man and a woman is inevitably part of being human, so why are you here, looking in on us? There’s no problem with me going, but you must tell your daughter to come with me.” The old man made no attempt to interfere, telling Qing’e to go along with him, then opened a door in the back as though to accompany them out; as soon as Huo was far enough outside the door, the father and daughter tricked him by shutting the door after him.

  When he turned his head around, there was only the sheer cliff wall with a jagged rock face, lacking even the smallest crevice in it—leaving him alone with his own shadow, deceived, and with no way to return home. He looked up at the sky and saw the moon’s crescent shining from on high, though few stars were visible. He remained frustrated for a good long while, but then his melancholy gave way to anger, and facing the cliff, he began yelling, but there was no response.

  At the peak of his rage, he took the spade that was hanging at his waist, using it to gouge through the rock wall, and the more he carved his way in, the more abusive his yelling became. In moments, he created an opening about three or four chi in depth. He faintly heard a person’s voice cry, “The vile bastard!” Huo spared no effort, and began digging even more furiously.

  Suddenly the back edge of his hole split open into two doors, through which Qing’e was pushed out, with the words, “You can go, you can go!” The wall then proceeded to close up once again.

  The girl resentfully cried, “If you love me as your wife, then how can you treat my father this way? Where’s the old Daoist who gave you that fiendish tool so you could bedevil people till they’d rather die?” Since Huo had gotten Qing’e back, he wished them to be reconciled, and didn’t argue any further; however, he was worried about how difficult and dangerous the mountain path would be on their way back. Qing’e then broke a twig in two, and as each of them straddled a piece, the bits were transformed into speedy horses that barely skimmed the path, so they arrived home mere moments later. By that time, Huo had been missing already for a week.

  Earlier, when Huo’s servant became separated from him, and was unsuccessful in searching to find him, he returned home and told Huo’s mother. She sent men to expand the search into the mountain valleys, but they found no signs of him.

  Just as she was beginning to fear that there was no hope, she heard her son return home, and, overjoyed, rushed out to welcome him. When she turned her gaze from him and noticed his wife, she was quite startled. Huo briefly explained what had happened, and this made her feel even more pleased and relieved.

  Qing’e realized that her actions would be perceived as strange, and considered how people might react upon hearing about them, so she entreated Huo to have them move elsewhere. Her mother-in-law concurred with her. They had another residence in Yidu, so fifteen minutes later they set out on foot, and no one outside the family knew of their leaving. They lived together there for the next eighteen years, and Qing’e gave birth to a daughter who eventually married into the Li family, who lived in the same town.

  Huo’s mother died after living a long life. Qing’e told him, “In the straw of our family’s field, there’s a pheasant’s nest that contains eight eggs, marking an auspicious site for her burial. You and Mengxian should carry her coffin to the gravesite. He’s already an adult, and since it’s proper for him to stay in the hut there to carry out the funeral rites, he doesn’t need to return with you.” Huo complied with her wishes, and after burying his mother, returned by himself.

  A month la
ter, Mengxian went to see his parents, but they’d utterly vanished. He asked an old servant about them, and was informed, “They went to the gravesite but haven’t come back yet.” He knew there was something very strange about this, but all he could do was utter a great sigh.

  Mengxian’s literary reputation spread widely, but he was always hard-pressed in the examination hall, and by the age of forty, he still hadn’t been successful. After being selected as a bagong and sent to take the civil service examination in the north, he met a fellow scholar, who looked to be about eighteen, with a distinguished demeanor, and Mengxian felt himself drawn to him.

  _______________________________

  Yidu: Located in Shandong province.

  When he looked at one of the young man’s examination papers, he noticed that he was a government-subsidized scholar from Shuntian named Huo Zhongxian. He stared in wide-eyed amazement, for they shared the same surname. Zhongxian also thought this unusual, and asked Mengxian his birthplace, so Mengxian told all about himself.

  Zhongxian happily declared, “When I left to come to the capital, father advised me that if I happened to run into a scholar from Shanxi surnamed Huo, he’d be a relative whom I should greet accordingly—and now it’s actually happened. But how could our names have been as similar as this?”

  Mengxian proceeded to ask him a number of detailed questions about generations of relatives, carefully avoiding mentioning any specific names, and finally exclaimed in wonderment, “We have the same parents!” Zhongxian was skeptical, due to the discrepancy in their ages, that they really shared the same parents. “Our mother and father are immortals,” Mengxian explained, “so can’t that account for the difference in our ages?” Once Mengxian had described all of the evidence he’d witnessed, Zhongxian finally began to believe.