Strange Tales from Liaozhai--Volume 4

by Pu Songling

  Stones the size of tubs were flung into the house, ruining doors, windows, cookware and serving vessels. Mu hid under a bed, cowering in a heavy sweat as he presently saw the woman come in, carrying in her arms some beast that had a large cat’s head and a very small dog’s tail, then as she set it down next to the bed, she whistled to it and commanded, “Xixi! Bite the feet off that villain!”

  The thing began gnashing at Mu’s shoe, its teeth as sharp as blades. The terrified Mu tried to pull his extremities further into his hiding place, but his four limbs felt paralyzed. Then the beast began chewing at his toes, making a sound like knives clashing. The pain was so severe that Mu cried for the woman to make it stop.

  “Then take out every precious thing you possess,” she insisted, “and leave nothing hidden.” Mu agreed to comply. “Ha-ha!” exclaimed the woman. The beast then stopped. Mu couldn’t stand up, so he told her where to find the items.

  The woman went to look for them, finding pearls, coins, and fine clothing, as well as more than two hundred taels. Feeling that she was still missing some things, she once again called to the beast, “Xixi!” The thing started biting the scholar again. Wailing, Mu begged for mercy. The woman set a deadline of ten days for him to repay her six hundred taels. Mu promised to do so, so the woman then picked the beast up in her arms and left.

  After a long while, the family members gradually gathered, and together they reached under the bed and pulled Mu out, his feet drenched in dark blood, for he’d lost two toes. When they looked around the house, they found it completely emptied of valuables, and only the worn-out quilt that they’d replaced earlier that year remained. They took it then and covered Mu, telling him to rest.

  Later, in fearful anticipation of the woman’s return in ten days, Mu sold their only remaining commodities, maidservants and clothing, until they had enough to pay the stipulated amount. When the specified time had elapsed, the woman indeed returned; Mu quickly handed over the money, and without saying a word, she left. From that point forward, their relationship was terminated.

  With medicine, Mu’s wounded feet began to heal after about six months, and his family was once again as destitute as they’d been originally. The fox meanwhile approached a villager named Yu. Yu was engaged in farming, and his family didn’t have much money; within three years, he was able to contribute grain to the government in exchange for an official position, to purchase a sprawling compound of houses that were all linked, and to wear magnificent clothing—which, six months earlier, had been owned by the Mu family. When Mu witnessed this, he didn’t dare ask about it.

  He happened to be out in the country one day when he ran into the fox woman, so he knelt abjectly in the path before her. She didn’t say a word, but took five or six taels that were wrapped up in cloth and tossed them aside, then turned around in the path and walked away.

  After Yu died an early death, the woman continued to appear at his home, and following every visitation, money and silk would be missing. Finally, when Yu’s son saw her coming, he bowed respectfully in obeisance to her, and greeted her: “Though father has passed away, his children are still yours, and even if you no longer have to care for us, how can you bear to make us poor?” The woman left then, and never came again.

  The collector of these strange tales remarks, “When this wicked beast shows up, a man should kill it without hesitation; but as long as Mu was receiving kindness from the fox, he shouldn’t have deceived it, even though it wasn’t human. There’s the example of the noble who was helped once by Zhao Meng, then later wished to kill him, but couldn’t succeed because Zhao was a virtuous hero. These men had no feelings of love for the fox woman, and merely craved the rich rewards she could give them. Once they saw the money, they looked pleased, for it was what they desired—but wouldn’t they have hesitated if they’d known it might cost them their lives, or disgrace their families? We feel downhearted about such greedy men, who deserve their sad endings!”

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  Zhao Meng: Zhao Dun, a Spring and Autumn Period (777-476 B.C.E.) government minister, whose courtesy name was Meng, was the target of three failed assassination attempts suborned by a duke named Ling: the first assassin killed himself by smashing his head into a tree rather than murder the exemplary Zhao. The other two attempts were thwarted by She Miming, whom Zhao had once rescued from starvation: Miming tipped Zhao off when he was about to ambushed while returning home, and on another occasion, he killed a fierce mastiff that had been set loose to maul Zhao (Mayers 19).

  323. Lü Wubing

  Master Sun Qi, of Luoyang, married the daughter of prefectural chief Jiang, and they got along very well. When she died at the tragically young age of twenty, Sun found his grief insurmountable. He left home to live in a house in the mountains.

  It happened one day to be overcast and rainy, so Sun was taking an afternoon nap, and there was no one else in the room. Suddenly, as he rolled over, he saw the room’s curtain pulled aside to expose a woman’s feet, and wondering at this, he asked who was there. The woman lifted the curtain and entered, appearing to be eighteen or nineteen years old, her attire simple and neat, but looking rather dusky and pockmarked, like the daughter of a poor family.

  Reasoning that she must be from somewhere down in the village, he called out to her, “Rather than entering my room, you should just tell the servants if you need something!”

  “I’m not a villager,” she replied, with a little laugh, “and my family, surnamed Lü, is from Shandong. My father’s a literary scholar. My birth name is Wubing. I’m following my family as we move our home, since my parents have already gone on ahead. I envy you being part of an influential family with a reputation as scholars, and I want you to be Kangcheng, so I can be your literary servant.”

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  Luoyang: City located in western Henan province.

  Sun smiled and said, “Your persuasion is elegant. But I’m rather unsettled in my living arrangements, and truly it would be inappropriate now, since after I return home, I should probably get married again.”

  The woman hesitated, but then pressed forward: “Since I rate myself as your inferior, how could I possibly hope to aspire to a wife’s status? You can rely on me to prepare your desk with whatever you need me to bring you, and you’ll see that I won’t mix up the books that I carry over to you.”

  “It should be an auspicious day when I hire you as a servant,” said Sun. Then he pointed to a shelf, directing her to pick out the fourth volume of the almanac—in order to test her. Wubing glanced through a number of books, then found it.

  Having previously glanced outside the room, she crept over to him, grinning as she said, “Today, the stars are saying that there aren’t any inauspicious signs.” Sun was moved to relent a bit, agreeing to shelter her in the house.

  Since she had nothing better to do, Wubing dusted off his desk and put his books in good order, lit some incense, and wiped clean his cooking cauldron, until the entire house was bright and clean. Sun was pleased with all this.

  When night arrived, Sun sent a servant to prepare a place for Wubing to stay. Wubing bowed her head and looked at the ground, eagerly attentive to his instructions. Not until he told her to go to bed did she pick up a candle and leave, then at midnight he was awakened by what felt like someone lying in his bed beside him; reaching out with his hand, he discovered it was Wubing, so he grabbed and shook her.

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  Kangcheng: The courtesy name of Zheng Xuan (127-200 C.E.), a Confucian scholar during the Eastern Han (25-220 C.E.) dynasty.

  She jumped up, startled, and stood at the foot of his bed. “What are you doing sleeping here, instead of someplace else?” asked Sun.

  Wubing replied, “I’m prone to feeling frightened.” Sun took pity on her, and allowed her to lie down in his bed.

  Almost immediately, he heard her breathing, like wind rustling quietly through lotus flowers, a rare sound; he c
alled to her as she rested on the pillow they were sharing, unaware of how frantically his heart was beating; gradually they ended up under the same quilt, which greatly delighted Sun. He began thinking that it wouldn’t be very wise to hide her from others, but taking her home with him would also cause problems.

  Sun had an aunt on his mother’s side, who lived only about ten or so gates away, so he planned to send Wubing there, and then he could visit subsequently to solicit the aunt’s opinions. Wubing approved of this plan, and accordingly told him, “I know your auntie well enough that I don’t need for you to send me over, I’d be pleased to approach her myself.” With Sun accompanying her, they climbed over the wall and left.

  Sun’s aunt was an elderly widow. Before dawn, as the old lady got up to answer the door, Wubing opened it and came in. The widow asked what she was after, and Wubing replied, “I’m doing as your nephew told me, auntie. The young master wants to return home, but it’s a long way to travel, and he’s tired, as well as short of money, so he sent me in to see whether I might temporarily stay here.” The old lady believed her, and hence told her she could stay.

  Sun returned home and announced that there was a maidservant in his aunt’s household whom he’d been given, so he sent a servant to pick her up and bring her back, and later, whether Sun was sleeping or working, she accompanied him all the time. As time passed, Sun fell in love with her more and more, eventually making her officially his concubine.

  Every time some famous family came to propose a marriage to Sun, he’d refuse, till it seemed clear that he wasn’t planning to marry as long as he lived. Wubing realized this, and earnestly advised Sun to take a wife; thus he agreed to wed a woman from the Xu family, though he still loved only Wubing. The woman Sun married was very virtuous, with the consequence that she never fought with Wubing; and Wubing’s involvement with the other wife became ever more respectful: hence the proper wife and the concubine lived together in loving harmony.

  Xu gave birth to a son named A-Jian, whom Wubing loved and cared for as if she’d given birth to him herself. When he reached the age of three, the boy no longer needed his wet nurse, so he’d go into Wubing’s quarters, refusing to leave her, and even his mother was unable to call him back.

  Before long, Xu fell ill and died. As she was on her deathbed, she urged Sun, “Since Wubing loves A-Jian more than anyone, you need to have her declared his true mother; and then you should give her my place as your proper wife.” Once she’d been buried, and Sun was just about to carry out her request, he told all of his relatives his intentions, but they all protested that he mustn’t do it; Wubing also firmly resisted the idea, so he didn’t pursue the matter any further.

  In town, the daughter of Minister of Personnel Wang had recently become a widow, and so Wang conveyed a proposal of marriage to Sun. Sun really didn’t want to marry her, so Wang reiterated the proposal. The matchmaker reported that the daughter was attractive, and Sun’s relatives admired Wang’s prominence, so they all insisted that he accept the proposal. Sun had misgivings, but finally agreed to the marriage.

  The woman did indeed look gorgeous; but she was extremely conceited, and when she tried on new clothing, far too much of it disgusted or displeased her, in which case she always destroyed or discarded it. Sun treated her with love and respect, but this didn’t seem to alter her behavior. A few months after she entered his home, she began acting without authority to grant herself control of the house, and though Wubing had been there first, the new wife complained about everything she did.

  Eventually her anger shifted to her husband, fighting with him any number of times. It distressed Sun, so he began sleeping alone. This made the new wife even angrier. When Sun finally couldn’t stand it any longer, he used the pretext that he had to go to the capital on business in order to escape from his wife’s unpleasantness. The wife blamed Wubing for his decision to make the long journey. Wubing was respectful and careful around her, expecting her to change her attitude, but the wife remained displeased.

  At night, when the wife ordered Wubing to sleep at the foot of her bed, A-Jian always rushed in to be together with her. Whenever the wife would yell for Wubing to get up, the boy always cried. The wife, exasperated, consequently cursed at the boy.

  Wubing would then quickly call for the wet nurse to come and stay with the child, to comfort him; but if she tried to force him to be quiet, he’d only wail more loudly. The angry wife consequently would cruelly beat him countless times, and only then was he allowed to leave with the wet nurse. A-Jian therefore became sick with fear of her, and stopped eating. The wife prohibited Wubing from seeing him.

  After the boy had been crying for days, the wife finally scolded his nurse, and made her stop comforting the boy. Exhausted from crying, A-Jian gasped a request for something to drink; the wife warned the nurse not to give him anything. After sunset, Wubing watched until the wife was no longer there, and then secretly went to give the boy something to drink.

  As soon as A-Jian saw her, he tossed aside the water and grabbed onto her robe, crying loudly without stopping. When the wife heard this, she roared in anger as she came out of her room. Listening to the sound of her anger, the boy stopped his tears, sprang to his feet, and then suddenly breathed his last.

  Wubing burst into wracking sobs. The wife furiously screamed, “You cheap, ugly slave! How dare you threaten me with the child’s death! It doesn’t matter that this thing was an infant of the Sun family; even if the child of a noble family had been killed, as the daughter of Minister Wang, I could still quash the matter!”

  Wubing then took a deep breath and suppressed her tears long enough to beg the wife to let her carry out the proper funeral rites. The wife refused to allow it, and immediately ordered the body to be disposed of.

  Once the wife left, Wubing furtively hugged the boy, whose four limbs were still warm, and privately told his nurse, “If you can leave here quickly, wait for me for a few moments in the open area outside, and I’ll soon follow. If A-Jian is dead, we’ll bury him; but if A-Jian still lives, we can care for him.”

  “I’m ready,” replied the nurse.

  Wubing then went to her room, took out her hairpins and earrings of any value, and hurried off to rejoin the nurse. As they examined the boy together, they found that he was already reviving. The two women were overjoyed, then hurried away to the house of Sun’s aunt.

  Though the nurse began to worry that Wubing’s tiny steps would make it impossible for her to catch up, while Wubing actually hurried ahead to wait for her, the older woman felt as if she were being swept up in a whirlwind, and vigorously zipped along, full of energy. Sometime during the second watch, A-Jian became critically ill, and they couldn’t keep on going as they had before.

  Thus they directed their steps towards a village, where they came to the farm belonging to an old man’s family, and waited outside the gates until daybreak. They pounded on the door and asked to rent a room, taking out the hairpins and earrings to offer instead of money, then summoned a shaman and a doctor, but A-Jian was so ill that he couldn’t be cured.

  Wubing hid her tears and told the nurse, “You take good care of the boy, while I go and search for his father.” The nurse worried that it was both reckless and absurd to head off on such a quest, but by then Wubing had already vanished into the darkness. The nurse found this utterly astonishing.

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  Tiny steps: A consequence of the cultural practice of foot-binding.

  The second watch: The second of five two-hour divisions of the night, from 9:00-11:00 p.m.

  That same day, Sun had been in the capital, and was resting on his bed when a sad-looking Wubing entered his room. Startled, Sun jumped up and cried, “I just now fell asleep, and you’ve already entered my dreams!”

  Wubing clasped his hand, choked up with sorrow, and stamped her feet in frustration since she was unable to utter a sound. This continued for a long, long time, till she was able to spit out the words, “I
had to face a thousand torments, but then I ran away with the boy to Yang—” but then she couldn’t finish the sentence, began sobbing loudly, and fell to the ground, dead.

  Sun was horrified, though he still suspected that it was all a dream; when he called his servants together to take a look, they found the clothes and shoes were all real, though it seemed so very strange that he just couldn’t understand it. He gathered his belongings at once, and immediately began the journey home.

  When, afterwards, he heard from the wife that the boy had died and the concubine had fled with his body, he suffered an intense grief. When Sun began to blame the wife, she replied by asserting that the two of them deserved what had happened.

  Furious, Sun drew out his naked sword; the young and old maidservants tried to protect her, so he was unable to get close enough, and thus he just threw his sword from a distance. As the sword entered the wife’s back and then pierced her forehead, blood pouring from her head wound, she screamed in response and ran out to inform her family of what had happened.

  Sun dragged her back inside and flogged her countless times till her clothes were torn to shreds, the pain from her wounds proving so great that she couldn’t move out of the way of his blows. Sun sent instructions for his servants to watch over her in her room until she was sufficiently recovered for him to divorce her.

  When his wife’s brothers heard about what had happened, in their anger they decided that the group of them would ride to pay a call at Sun’s house; Sun gathered together his strongest servants and armed them to resist the assault. The brothers shouted curses at them all day long, then finally dispersed. Minister Wang was not pleased, and filed a suit against Sun.

  Sun guardedly entered Luoyang, and personally went to the magistrate’s office to answer the falsehoods that had been directed against him, testifying about his wife’s wicked deeds. The magistrate couldn’t just dismiss the matter, so he accompanied Sun to consult a guangwen about an appropriate punishment, which pleased Wang.