Strange Tales from Liaozhai--Volume 4
Page 32
In shock, he hurried on till he arrived at a village, and since by that time it was already dusk, several men had lit torches to illuminate the area, as though they were looking for something. When he approached and inquired about what was happening, he learned that the group had been sitting around together there when all of a sudden a human head fell from the sky, its beard and hair all disheveled, and then immediately disappeared.
The woodcutter also described what he’d seen, so that altogether, their mutual experiences pointed to the same man, and though they tried to get to the bottom of the matter, they couldn’t understand what had happened.
Afterwards, a man carrying a basket walked by, and as they suddenly glanced inside, there was a human head in it, so in astonishment they asked what was going on in his basket, and he became so horrified that he dumped the head out on the ground—but when they went to look at it, it was no longer there.
313. The Purple Lotus Buddhist
Scholar Ding Yehe, from Zhucheng, was an official’s grandson. He’d gained a reputation for scholarship while a young man, but then succumbed to an illness and died, though the following evening he came back to life and declared, “Now I understand the principles of Buddhism.”
At the time, there was a monk who was an accomplished practitioner of certain esoteric doctrines, thus Ding sent a messenger to invite the monk to his home, then had him come to his bedside, so they could discuss the Śūraṅgama sutra. Ding listened carefully to the monk’s commentary on each part, but all of his words seemed somehow inadequate, so Ding remarked, “Something enabled me to recover from my illnesss, to demonstrate the potential of the Buddhist principles. There must be some scholar who can cure my illness, so please find him.”
_______________________________
The Purple Lotus Buddhist: As a traditional Buddhist icon, the eight petals of the lotus signify the Noble Eightfold Path to nirvana: correctness of views and freedom from delusion; correct intentions and thoughts; correct speech; correct conduct in order “to dwell in purity”; correct livelihood; correct zeal; and correct meditation (Soothill and Hodous 37). Eberhard notes the symbolic association of purple with both heaven and the emperor (242).
Ding Yehe: Born Ding Yaokang, Ding Yehe (courtesy name: Xisheng) was a zhusheng, or successful candidate in the lowest level of the imperial civil service examination, during the Ming dynasty and went on to a succession of official appointments in the early years of the Qing dynasty (Zhu 2:1065n2).
Zhucheng: A county in Shandong province.
Indeed, there was a certain scholar who was a master of the principles of medicine, but had never actually practiced them, and after he’d been invited three times, he finally agreed to come to Ding’s home, where he wrote out a prescription for medicine that led to Ding’s apparent recovery from his illness.
Afterwards, as the scholar planned to return home, a woman came in from outside, and announced to him, “I’m attached to a high official’s office. The Purple Lotus Buddhist had a long-standing dispute with him, and now that the official’s been assigned his punishment, are you really going to return to try to save him? If you go back there again, it may mean the end of you.” When she finished speaking, she disappeared. The scholar of medicine was frightened, and took his leave of Ding.
Ding’s illness returned, so he urgently invited the scholar to come again, and the scholar then told him the truth of everything. Ding sighed and said, “I must have generated sinful karma in a previous life, and that’s why I have to die now.” When his servants examined him, they found he was dead.
Afterwards, they began looking everywhere, and discovered that there had been a Purple Lotus Buddhist, an eminent monk, who had been supported by, and lived with, a high official’s family in Qingzhou; but no one knew anything about a dispute or any reasons for it.
_______________________________
The Śūraṅgama sutra: For Pu’s purposes, the significance of this sutra is perhaps its emphasis on delusions that impede meditation, and on the moral principles that underlie Buddhist teachings. A translation may be found at www.buddhanet.net/pdf_file/surangama.pdf.
Qingzhou: The former Yidu county, in Shandong province.
314. Zhou Kechang
Near the Huai River, there lived a fifty-year-old gongsheng named Zhou Tianyi, who had just one son, named Kechang, upon whom he doted. By the time Kechang was thirteen or fourteen, his already graceful bearing became even more elegant; but he didn’t like to read, so he always ran away from school, following groups of boys as they went off to play all day long, without coming back. Zhou Tianyi allowed this to continue.
One day, it was after dusk and Zhou Kechang hadn’t returned home, so his father went out to look for him, but couldn’t turn up any sign of him. He and his wife began crying loudly for him, feeling so bad that they almost wanted to die.
A year passed, and Zhou Kechang suddenly showed up, explaining, “There was this Daoist who became obsessed with me, but fortunately no harm came of it. When he went out with some others, I simply ran away and came home.” His father was so overjoyed, he didn’t follow up with any other questions.
When Kechang’s teacher tested his reading, the boy proved to be vastly more intelligent than he had been in the past. A year went by, and the flow of thought in his writing greatly advanced, so afterwards he was examined at the prefectural academy, where he made quite a name for himself. Families that had been influential for generations competed to offer him their daughters in marriage, but Kechang was clearly unwilling to marry.
_______________________________
Huai River: Located midway between the Yellow River and the Yangzi River, originating in Henan province at Mt. Tongbai.
Gongsheng: A tribute student, nominated by local Confucian schools “for advanced study and subsequent admission to the civil service” (Hucker 295); here, signifying such a student who later went on to a career as an official.
A jinshi named Zhao had a daughter who was quite striking, and Zhou Tianyi forced Zhao to wed her to Kechang. After Kechang married the girl, the couple spoke together happily and easily, but Kechang continued to insist on sleeping alone.
After a year, he successfully qualified as a juren. Zhou Tianyi took great comfort from this. However, as he gradually grew older over time, he looked forward every day to holding a grandson in his arms, which is why Tianyi began frequently dropping hints about it to his son. But Kechang seemed indifferent to them, as though he didn’t understand what his father was hinting at.
When his mother couldn’t bear it any longer, she began making references to the matter incessantly. Kechang blushed, and blurted out, “For a long time I’ve wanted to run away, but I didn’t hurriedly leave home, out of concern for your feelings. But I really can’t talk about having a son just to offer you some comfort. Hence I’m telling you I quit—let the one who obeys your orders come back.”
By the time she rushed after him to stop him from leaving, he’d already fallen to the ground and vanished, leaving his clothing behind like old skin that had been sloughed off. Horrified, she began to believe that her son had been dead all this time, and felt certain that this had been his ghost. All she could do was sigh mournfully.
The next day, Kechang suddenly arrived, accompanied by servants on horseback, provoking frightened astonishment among his family members. When they approached to ask him what had happened, he explained to them that wicked men had abducted him and sold him to the wealthy Shang family; the Shangs had no son, so they made him their son. But a while after they’d adopted Kechang, the wife of the family suddenly gave birth to a son. Kechang kept thinking about his family over the years, so they sent people to accompany him home.
_______________________________
Jinshi: A successful candidate in the highest level of the imperial civil service examination.
Juren: A successful candidate in the provincial level of the civil service examination.
His family asked about
his studies, and it turned out that he was the same slow student he’d always been. Then they knew that this truly was Zhou Kechang; at the examination, the successful examinee was just a ghost pretending to be the real Kechang. The family was privately quite pleased that the truth about the ghost didn’t get out, since their son had been granted an official title.
When Kechang entered her room, his wife there reacted quite familiarly toward him; but Kechang was embarrassed by this, blushing like a newlywed. After a year, his wife gave birth to a son.
The collector of these strange tales remarks, “The ancients observed that a common but fortunate individual should have an ordinary-looking face; that way, good fortune is bound to follow; if Kechang’s looks had not been extraordinary, the ghost would’ve had nothing to do with him. The proof of his being common but fortunate is that he received a title without even taking the examination, and won a beauty’s heart without even wooing her in person; this is much better than to be one of those who obtain a title illegally!”
315. Chang’e
Zong Zimei, from Taiyuan, accompanied his father while he was studying abroad, and they lived away from home in Guangling for a long time. His father had noticed that there was an old woman who’d apparently been living for a long time in the woods below Hong Bridge.
One day, father and son were passing over Hong Bridge, when they met up with the old woman, who insistently invited them to come to her house, where she could brew some tea and they could chat together. There was a girl at her side, an outstanding beauty. Zong’s father politely complimented her loveliness.
The old woman turned to Zong Zimei and said, “This young lady’s quiet, and her face reflects good fortune ahead. If you wouldn’t find the thought abhorrent, how about if you were to receive her as your wife?”
Old Zong laughed, urging his son to leave his seat, paying his respects to the old woman before declaring, “One word can cost a thousand taels!”
Originally, the old woman had been living alone, when the girl suddenly appeared, complaining to her that she was orphaned and wretched. When the old woman inquired about her birth name, the girl replied that she was called Chang’e. The old woman was immediately fond of her and asked her to stay, considering that someday she could sell her for a high price indeed.
_______________________________
Chang’e: Folk tradition identifies Chang’e as a woman who stole the elixir of immortality from her husband, the divine archer, Yi, then fled with it to the moon, where, according to some variations, she was transformed into a toad (for forsaking her husband and stealing the elixir). See Yang and An (86-90). Taiyuan: A prefecture in Pu’s time, now a city in Shandong province.
Guangling: Now part of Yangzhou, in Jiangsu province.
The fourteen-year-old Zong surreptitiously glanced at the girl with joy, thinking that surely his father would arrange for a matchmaker; but the old man simply returned home, as though he’d forgotten about it. Zong Zimei felt like he was burning up with passion, so he secretly went to speak to his mother about it. His father laughed and told her, “This greedy old woman was just playing with our son. He didn’t know that she would’ve sold the girl to us for whatever we’d have given, and that’s why she made the offer so readily!”
A year passed, and Zong’s parents both died. The son couldn’t forget his feelings for the beautiful Chang’e, and just as he was completing the mourning period for his parents’ deaths, he had a proposal sent to where the old woman lived in the forest. But the old woman would no longer honor the original offer.
Zong angrily exclaimed, “I’ve never been frivolous or timorous in my whole life, so why should you treat my money like it’s worthless? If you’ll honor the previous proposal of an alliance with me, you’ll see how I’ll repay you!”
“It seems that before,” the old woman replied, “your father and I may have been kidding about making an agreement, as was possibly the case. At any rate, it certainly wasn’t settled, and then everything was forgotten. But now, after everything you’ve said, mustn’t I allow you to marry this goddess? I need to dress her properly, which is why I expect a thousand taels for the proposal; I’ll ask you to provide half of it now—can you do that?” Zong acknowledged that this would be difficult to accomplish, so he gave up on it.
There happened to be an old widow who’d rented a neighboring house to the west of Zong’s, and she had a daughter named Diandang, who’d just turned fifteen. When Zong chanced to sneak a peek at her, he found her to be no less beautiful than Chang’e.
He admired her, so he often took her gifts just so he’d have a reason to approach her family’s gate; after quite some time, he gradually became a familiar sight, and she frequently gave him flirtatious glances, and though she wanted to speak with him, they didn’t have any opportunities.
One night, she slipped out, and came looking for him with a torch. Zong happily drew her to him, and they joined together like joyful newlyweds. When Zong came with a proposal to marry Diandang, she refused, on the grounds that her brother, a traveling merchant, was away from home. Thereafter, they met and communicated so often that they became quite intimate.
As Zong happened to be crossing Hong Bridge one day, he saw Chang’e standing inside her gate, so he hurried to pass by quickly. When Chang’e spotted him in the distance, she waved at him with her hands, and he had to stop; after Chang’e beckoned him over, he went inside with her.
Once she confronted him with the fact that he’d broken their agreement, he explained the reason why to her. She then went into another room, and came back carrying some gold taels and quickly handed them over to him. Zong wouldn’t accept them, and told her, “Since I broke off the agreement with you, I’ve made another one with a different girl. If I accepted the money and married you, I’d be abandoning her; if I accepted the money and didn’t marry you, I’d be abandoning you; to be honest, I just didn’t dare abandon you altogether.”
After a good long while, Chang’e replied, “I know something about your agreement with the other girl. But it won’t succeed; and even if it was successful, I wouldn’t feel resentful about your disloyalty to our love. You’d better leave quickly, since the old woman’s about to arrive.” Zong hurried, and rather than following what he’d resolved, he accepted the taels and returned home.
The following night, he told Diandang about the matter. She reacted gravely to his words, and tried to persuade him to set things right with Chang’e. Zong didn’t respond; when Diandang suggested that she be a second wife, beneath Chang’e, Zong was delighted with the idea.
Thus he sent a matchmaker to offer the taels once again to the old woman in the woods, and the old woman didn’t decline them, so the matchmaker took the girl and returned to Zong’s house. After they entered the gate, Zong described Diandang’s proposal to her. Chang’e gave a little smile, though she was inwardly seething.
Zong was pleased, and quickly wanted to clarify Diandang’s new role, but she’d already disappeared. Chang’e knew that it was to avoid her that Diandang had gone missing, so she decided to visit the old woman in the woods in order to help Zong, and she advised him to steal the bag that Diandang carried with her.
Shortly afterwards, Diandang arrived, wanting to discuss their plans, but Zong said there was no hurry. When she laughingly reached up to take off her jacket so they might make love, he noticed a purple lotus blossom bag slung under her arm, and was just about to take it.
Diandang’s face flushed as she stood up to exclaim, “You offered your heart to her, so you just turn your back on me! What an unfaithful man! From now on, just leave me alone.” Zong tried to pull her close so he could defend himself, but she wouldn’t listen to him and actually left.
One day, as he was passing her gate, he found out that her place had already been rented by someone from southern Jiangsu; Diandang and her mother had already left, having erased all signs of their presence there, leaving no way for Zong to contact them.
From the mom
ent that Zong married Chang’e, his family suddenly became rich, enabling him to join the estate’s pavilions with long, covered walkways, fully connecting them with continuous roadway. Chang’e was apt to tease him whenever he happened to see a beautiful woman on a picture scroll, finally prompting Zong to say, “I’ve told myself that there aren’t two women like you in the whole world, though I’ve never seen Zhao Feiyan or Yang Guifei.”
“If you want to see them,” Chang’e smiled, “that can be arranged easily.” Thus she grasped the scroll, examining it closely, before quickly moving to stand before a mirror to apply make-up, appearing superficially to be just like the lithe and graceful Zhao Feiyan—then she pretended to be Yang Guifei, behaving drunkenly. The duration and clarity of her images kept changing all the time; her flirtatious expressions and attitudes were absolutely identical to those in the scroll.
While she posed, there was a maid who came in from outside, and could no longer recognize Chang’e, and with a start, asked her if she was one of master Zong’s maids; then when she turned towards her mistress and looked searchingly into her face, she suddenly started laughing, realizing who she was. Overjoyed, Zong cried, “I married one beauty, but now a thousand ancient beauties can all come to my bed!”
One night, while the couple were fast asleep, several people forced their door open and came in, with a blazing light shining over the walls. Chang’e quickly got up, crying in fright, “Thieves have broken in!” Zong had just been waking up at the time, and wanted to yell for help.
One of the intruders put his blade to Zong’s throat, and he was so scared that he didn’t dare even gasp. Then one of the thieves grabbed Chang’e, tossed her over his back, and boisterously ran off. Zong began wailing, and by the time his servants had gathered all of the family’s rare curios into the room, it became clear that they’d taken nothing but Chang’e. Zong was greatly saddened, missing her and feeling that no one could take her place.