by Pu Songling
After several paces, he suddenly saw a hunchbacked old man with a walking stick heading quickly along the path up the slope of the mountain. An stopped and was about to ask him for directions, when the old man preempted this by asking him who he was. An explained that he’d taken the wrong path; but then he saw the lights and figured that surely there was a mountain village there, and so he’d come to spend the night.
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Bagong: A meritorious student given special recommendation, usually from local officials, to take the imperial civil service examination in the capital.
Mt. Hua: Located in Shaanxi province, about a hundred kilometers east of Xi’an.
“That’s not a tranquil village,” said the old man. “Lucky for you, you ran into me and can come along and spend the night in my thatched cottage.” An was very pleased to hear this, so he followed the old man for about a li, where he noticed a small village.
The old man pounded at a door made of brambles, and an old woman came out to open it, inquiring, “Has a young gentleman arrived?”
“Without a doubt,” replied the old man.
As soon as they entered, An noticed that the ceiling of the cottage was narrow and low. The old man hung a lantern, urged An to sit beside him, and told the old woman to bring them something to eat. Then he informed her, “This man isn’t like the others, but one who saved my life. If you can’t keep up with all the serving activity, you can call for Huaguzi to come and pour the wine.”
Immediately, a bright-eyed young beauty entered with food for them and stood beside the old man, glancing to the side at An. When he examined her, he admired her pretty face and perfect teeth, which were like those of a fairy. The old man turned and told the girl to warm some wine. There was a coal stove in the western side-room, so the girl went and stirred up the fire. “Sir, who is she?” he asked his host.
The old man replied, “My name’s Zhang. I’m seventy years old, and she’s my only daughter. Farming families like us have no servants—since you’re not just anybody, I’ve felt confident to have my wife and daughter come out to meet you, and, fortunately, you’re not laughing at me for it.”
“Where does your son-in-law’s family live?” asked An.
Zhang replied, “I don’t have one yet.” An kept commending Huaguzi’s gentle nature and beauty, as though he couldn’t stop himself from praising her. The old man was modestly accepting his comments when suddenly they heard the girl cry out.
Zhang rushed over, discovering that the wine had boiled over and made the fire flare up. He then rescued the remaining wine and scolded her, “You’re old enough to be an adult, but then you act like you don’t know what you’re doing!” He turned his head and saw a partially-finished goddess doll made from sorghum stalks, then again chided her, “Your hair may be long like a grownup’s, but you still carry on like a child!”
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Li: A distance equal to 1/3 mile.
Zhang held the toy up to An and said, “She was so wrapped up in making this, that she let the wine boil over. If you keep on praising her, I can’t express how ashamed of her I am!”
An closely examined every detail of the doll, from its facial features to its clothing, and found it to be a work of remarkable craftsmanship. Hence he said in support of Huaguzi, “Even if it’s just child’s play, I can see from it that she’s also quite ingenious.” Then whenever their cups needed to be refilled, the girl quickly carried over more wine, graciously smiling at An, no longer as shy as before. As An fixed his eyes on Huaguzi, he felt a stirring of feelings for her.
Suddenly they heard Zhang’s wife cry out, and the old man went to find out why. Left alone with Huaguzi, An gazed at her and said, “Looking at you, I see a fairy, and it feels like my very spirit has abandoned me. I want to have a matchmaker arrange for us to marry, but I’m worried that it won’t work out, so what can we do?” Huaguzi held the wine jug over the fire, remaining quiet as though she hadn’t heard him; he repeated his question, but to no effect.
Eventually, An moved over to where she was. Huaguzi stood up, and with a stern expression exclaimed, “What’re you doing over here!” An went down on his hands and knees before her in anguish. The girl moved towards the doorway to leave. An got up quickly to block her way, then grabbed her and tried to kiss her.
In a quavering voice, the girl weakly cried out, so Zhang hurried back into the room and asked what was wrong. An let go of her and prepared to leave, ashamed of his uncontrolled behavior. Huaguzi calmly turned to her father and said, “The wine was about to boil over again, and if the gentleman hadn’t come over here, the jug would’ve been ruined.” An was reassured when he heard Huaguzi’s words, and felt even more strongly about her.
He was so completely infatuated that he even forgot how it was that he’d come to be near her. He pretended that he’d been drunk and consequently had left his place, and then Huaguzi left the room. Zhang set up a mat and mattress for An, then went out, closing the door after him. An was unable to go to sleep, and at dawn he bid them farewell.
When he got home, he entrusted a friend to go to the thatched cottage to negotiate a marriage agreement, and after being gone all day the friend returned to say that he couldn’t find the cottage or the village. An ordered a servant to ready a horse, and he rode off himself to find the route he’d taken. He came to a steep cliff’s precipice, but there was no village there; when he inquired around at a nearby village, no one recognized Zhang’s name.
Disappointed, An returned home, so distracted that he forgot to eat or sleep. He then became disoriented and fell ill: forcing himself to eat some watery congee made him feel like vomiting; and in this deteriorating state, he kept calling for Huaguzi. His family members didn’t understand what he meant, and though they took care of him attentively throughout the night, his energy continued to wane.
One night, when whoever was looking after him became tired and negligently fell asleep, An looked up weakly, feeling someone trying to rouse him. Opening his eyes briefly, he saw Huaguzi standing at his bedside, and he immediately returned to consciousness, his life energy stimulated. As An gazed ardently at the girl, his tears began to fall.
Huaguzi bent her head near him, smiling as she said, “Silly boy, how did you come to this?” Then she climbed into bed, straddled An’s thighs, and with both hands applied pressure to his forehead. An breathed in a rare, musky fragrance that penetrated to his very bones. She continued pressing for quite a while, till suddenly An felt sweat dripping from his forehead, and gradually feeling spread throughout his body.
Speaking softly, Huaguzi said, “There are too many people around, so I can’t stay here. In three days, we’ll see each other again.” Then she reached into an embroidered sleeve, brought out some steamed cakes, placed them at the head of his bed, and quietly left.
When he finally stopped sweating, An was craving something to eat, so he tried one of the cakes. He didn’t know what they were stuffed with, but they were so unusually sweet and satisfying that he ate three of them. Then he took some clothing, used it to cover the remaining cakes, and fell into a deep sleep, so that when it came time for him to wake up, he felt like a great burden had been lifted from him.
In three days, when he’d finished the remaining cakes, he was completely reinvigorated and twice as sharp as before. Thus he dismissed the servants who’d been caring for him. He figured that Huaguzi might still be unable to get through his door and come inside, so he secretly slipped out of his study and into the courtyard, where he undid the bolt on the door.
Shortly afterward, the girl was able to come in, saying with a laugh, “Silly gentleman, aren’t you going to thank the witch who saved you?” An was overjoyed, took her affectionately into his arms, and they made love. Afterwards, she told him, “I’ve taken chances and risked humiliation for my family by rescuing you, all because I had to come and express my gratitude for your great kindness before. But the truth is that I can n
ever marry you, so you’d better be thinking of other ladies.”
An was silent for a good long time, and then asked her, “Since we’ve only recently met, how could I have done you any kindness before? Honestly, I don’t remember anything like that.”
Huaguzi was quiet, but then said, “You’ll think of it.” An steadfastly insisted that he’d always love her. “Again and again,” she told him, “it would be impossible for us to meet secretly every night; but for us to become a normal married couple is equally impossible.” When An heard her response, he became depressed and downhearted. “If you really want us to be together,” Huaguzi declared, “please come to my home tomorrow night.”
An joyfully received her compassionate offer, and asked her, “Since it’s so far away, and your steps are so delicate, how do you manage to get back and forth?”
“I simply haven’t been returning home,” she replied. “My aunt is the old deaf woman living east of here, and so for you, I’ve been staying there until now, and I’m afraid that my family will be suspected of something and be blamed for me.”
An slept with her under the same quilt, and as he felt her breath during their intimacy, he realized that every portion of her body was fragrantly scented. “What do you use to achieve the wonderful fragrance that pervades your body?” he asked her.
Huaguzi replied, “I was born this way, and I don’t use anything to enhance it.” An thought her even more extraordinary. In the morning, she got up and said goodbye. An was anxious about being able to find his way to her home, so Huaguzi arranged to wait for him along the road.
An galloped off at sunset, found where Huaguzi was waiting for him, and together they traveled to her home. Zhang and his wife happily came out to meet them. The wine and delicacies that they served were simple rather than fancy fare. After they’d finished, they invited their guest to get some rest. Huaguzi hadn’t looked his way all evening, which made him worry that something was wrong.
Late that night, she finally came to him and said, “My parents were unsettled and didn’t go right to sleep—that’s why I had to make you wait so long.” While they made love throughout the night, Huaguzi told An, “Tonight we’ve been together, but for a hundred years we’ll be apart.” Shaken, An asked her what she meant. “My father thinks this little village is too isolated, so we’re going to move far away. Tonight is the last time we can live harmoniously as a couple.” An couldn’t bear to let her go, and hung his head mournfully.
Huaguzi was so reluctant to leave him, that night gradually gave way to the dawn. Zhang suddenly rushed in, cursing his daughter, “You’ve ruined our poor family, and now we’re so ashamed we wish we could die!” Huaguzi turned pale and ran off in distress. Zhang ran after her, reviling her as he went. An also felt mortified and ashamed of himself, so he privately hurried out and went home.
For several days he paced anxiously, thinking he couldn’t go on living like this. Hence he decided that when night fell, he’d climb over Zhang’s wall so he could see his beloved. The old man had confirmed that the young scholar was his great deliverer, so even if the affair came out, surely he wouldn’t hurt An for it. Thus he rode quickly into the mountains that night, his uncertain steps soon ensuring that he was lost. He became quite frightened.
Then as he began looking for a way to return home, he spotted the roof of a secluded house in the valley; happily relieved, he headed there, noting that its high wall was the sort associated with aristocratic families, and that its heavy gate hadn’t yet been shut for the night. An directed himself to the gate to ask if anyone knew where the Zhang family lived.
A servant came out and said, “Who’s inquiring about the Zhang family at this time of night?”
An replied, “The Zhangs are the parents of my beloved, but I’ve gotten lost looking for their home.”
“You don’t have to find the Zhangs,” the servant told him. “This is the home of Huaguzi’s aunt, and she’s here now, so let me go tell her that you’ve arrived.” In a little while, the servant came out and invited An to come in.
As he entered the corridor, Huaguzi ran out to welcome him, telling the servant, “Master An has been hurrying here and since it’s already midnight, he must be nearly exhausted, so you can go prepare a place for him to sleep.”
Shortly afterward, hand-in-hand, An and Huaguzi got into bed. “Why isn’t there anyone else here in your aunt’s home?” he asked her.
She explained, “My aunt has gone away and asked me to watch over things. It’s fortunate that you found me here—mustn’t it mean that we’re fated to be together?”
While they snuggled close, An thought it very strange that he detected a rank odor of some kind. Huaguzi put her arms around his neck and then impulsively licked at his nostrils, while something pricked at his head. Quite shocked by this, An urgently wanted to run away, but his body suddenly felt as though it had been tied up by an enormous rope. Shortly after that, he blacked out.
When An didn’t return home, his family went out looking for him, following his tracks. Someone mentioned running into him during the night along one of the mountain paths. The family members searched the mountain, where they discovered his naked corpse at the base of a high cliff. Horrified and alarmed, they didn’t look into what had happened to him, but simply lifted him up and carried him home.
As they all gathered and wept together, a young lady arrived to mourn with them, already crying outside the gate before she entered. She massaged An’s body and held his nose so her tears could run into it, while crying, “Heaven, oh heaven, why! How could you be so stupid to let it happen!” She wailed, crying bitterly till her voice gave out, then finally stopped. She told the family members, “You have to suspend your mourning for seven days—you mustn’t bury him.”
They didn’t know who she was, so they were just about to ask her; refusing to stand on ceremony, Huaguzi proudly held back her tears and made her way outside, ignoring the others as they asked her to stay and followed after her, discovering once outside that she was already vanishing in the distance. The family members suspected that she might be a fairy, so they were careful to do exactly as she’d instructed them. The next night, Huaguzi returned once again, weeping as she’d done the day before.
On the seventh night, An suddenly revived, and turned over on his side with a groan. His family members were utterly amazed. Huaguzi entered, and they faced each other, choked with emotion. An raised his hand and asked everyone else to leave.
Huaguzi took out a bundle of green grass, made soup from it and fed it to An, sitting beside his bed, and almost instantly, he was strong enough to speak. With a sigh, he said, “First you kill me, then you bring me back to life!” He then described what had happened to him.
“That was a snake spirit pretending to be me,” she told him. “When you lost your way and saw lights there, that was the demon’s doing.”
An asked her, “How did you raise me from the dead, giving me back my life? Are you a fairy?”
She replied, “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but I was afraid of frightening you. Five years ago, on your way through Mt. Hua, do you remember that you purchased the release of a river deer?”
“That’s right, I did,” he replied.
“That was my father,” she explained. “That’s the reason he called you his deliverer. The day before yesterday, you were reborn at Xicun, in Wang Zhuzheng’s family. I went with father to dispute the matter with the Hell King, but he refused to intervene. Father wanted to give up his immortality to take your place, dying for you, and after pleading for seven days, he was finally allowed to do so. Now it’s our fortune to be together again. Even though you’re alive once more, however, you may experience some paralysis or numbness; drinking some snake blood in wine will get rid of those ill effects.”
An gnashed his teeth at the thought of how much he hated the snake spirit, so he considered by what method he might be able to destroy it. Huaguzi told him, “It’s no problem. However, there w
ould be serious repercussions for my future—I’d have to do hard labor for a hundred years before I could become an immortal. Her burrow is located in an old cliff, so late some afternoon, you can gather some dried grass and set it on fire outside there, with a crossbow all ready, so when the monster emerges, you can get it.”
When she’d finished explaining, she added, “It’s the great sorrow of my life that I can’t continue our relationship. But because of you, I’ve lost seventy percent of my immortality. It’s been a month since I felt a slight movement in my stomach, and I’m afraid that it’s the source of my troubles. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, a year from now I’ll send it to you.” Shedding tears, she then departed.
The next day, An’s body felt dead below the waist, unable to feel anything at all. Then he told his family what Huaguzi had told him. The family members did as she proposed, burning grass at the mouth of the burrow. A giant white snake rushed out through the flames. Several crossbows were fired all at once, killing the snake.
When the fire had burned out and they entered the large burrow, they found snakes of all sizes and ages, burnt and foul-smelling. The family members returned home, taking some snake blood with them. An took the remedy for three days, and then as feeling returned to his thighs, gradually he could turn on his side, and in six months he was able to get out of bed.
Later on, when he was walking alone through the mountain valley, he met old Mrs. Zhang, who was holding a tightly-wrapped infant in her arms, which she handed to him, saying, “My daughter offers you this with her regards.” When he wanted to ask her about Huaguzi, suddenly she was nowhere to be seen. He opened up the swaddling clothes to look at the child, and saw it was a boy. He carried the baby home in his arms, and in the end he never took a wife.
The collector of these strange tales remarks, “People may think that humans are quite different from birds and beasts; however, it’s not necessarily the case. When it comes to repaying a debt of gratitude sincerely, even going so far as to sacrifice one’s own life, people should feel shamed by the selfless examples of the wild creatures. Where Huaguzi’s concerned, she at first seemed foolish but proved wise, uninterested in An but then utterly devoted to him—thus one comes to understand that foolishness can be the most extreme form of wisdom, and disinterest the most extreme form of devotion. Heaven, oh heaven, why!”
