《录异记》

When the ancients spoke of strange occurrences and matters involving spirits, even though the sages were reluctant to discuss them at length, they were often recorded in the classics, proclamations, and histories. Early works such as the Record of Strange Events, the Treatise on Natural Wonders, and the Collected Accounts of the Unusual all belong to this genre.

The Six Classics, prophetic charts, and texts such as the River Chart and the Luo Writing each record changes in Yin-Yang, supernatural phenomena, and omens of good or ill fortune. These phenomena arise as the two Qi move and appear through changes in the Five Phases. Whether auspicious stars appear, sweet dew falls, the sun and moon join in the sky, or a string of pearl-like stars forms; whether fine wheat and grain, rare birds and strange beasts, numinous fungi and elixirs, auspicious clouds, and sweet springs appear; or beings of one kind turn into humans and humans into beings of another kind—all follow the cycles of time. They appear when the time is right and vanish when their allotted time has passed.

There are many accounts, from ancient times to the present, of field mice turning into draft animals, pheasants turning into mirage creatures, sparrows turning into clams, and hawks turning into turtledoves. There are also accounts of the essence of a constellation being born as a worthy minister, or the spirit of a mountain rising to become a capable adviser. Other reports include the tales of the Stone Spirit of Xin from the Jin dynasty, spirits manifesting through human bodies, and ominous events such as black blood or fish growing to enormous size. These stories may seem astonishing at first hearing, but on examination they are connected with the cycles of time and the reckoning of the calendar. Almost every day, such things occur somewhere in the world.

In my leisure, I gathered and recorded these accounts as they came to hand. Some came from what I had personally heard and observed; others I drew from books collected in various places. I hope that those who take an interest in such matters will find them useful for reference. I have therefore titled this book Record of Strange Events. I, Guangting, respectfully write this preface.

Record of Strange Events, Volume One

Compiled by Du, Master of Guangcheng, Grand Master for Splendid Happiness, Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, Chief Pillar of State, and Duke of Cai

Immortals

Master Guigu was a true immortal of antiquity. According to legend, his surname was Wang, and he lived from the time of the Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan all the way to the Shang and Zhou periods. He once accompanied the Old Lord on a westward journey and taught the people in the region of the Flowing Sands. At the end of the Zhou dynasty, he returned to the Central Plains and settled on Guigu Mountain beside the Han River. He took more than a hundred disciples, but only Zhang Yi and Su Qin had no longing for the Way of the immortals, preferring the arts of persuasion and political strategy.

At that time, the Zhou royal house had declined, the feudal lords waged war against one another, the strong oppressed the weak, and the world was in turmoil. After Zhang Yi and Su Qin rose to prominence, they put their eloquence to work among the feudal lords of the Warring States. At times they succeeded, at times they failed, striving to win through clever argument. They pursued fame and stipends with all their hearts, and no longer aspired to withdraw into the mountains and forests to seek the Way and cultivate immortality.

Master Guigu wrote to Zhang Yi and Su Qin: “Your achievements and reputations are splendid, but spring must eventually pass, and autumn cannot linger forever. The season of flourishing is nearing its end, and the years are slowly bringing old age. Have you never seen the trees beside a river? Carters and servants break their branches, and the waves batter their roots. These trees have made no enemies of the people under Heaven; they simply grow in such a place. Have you never seen the pines and parasol trees on Mount Song, Mount Tai, Mount Hua, and Mount Huo? Their crowns reach into the blue clouds, while their roots extend deep beneath the springs. Black foxes and apes dwell above, while leopards hide below and flood dragons lie in wait. For thousands upon thousands of years, they are never felled by axes. These trees, too, have no blood feud with the people under Heaven; they simply grow in a different place.

“Now you crave the honors of official life and seek achievements that will endure. You slight the path to long life followed by immortals such as Red Pine Master and Wang Ziqiao, yet prize official rank that lasts only a moment. This is truly heartbreaking!”

Zhang Yi and Su Qin replied: “Your Virtue is deep and broad, Master. When hungry, you must surely feed on the essence of sacred mushrooms; when thirsty, you must surely drink liquid jade. Your Virtue is as clear and far-reaching as the spirits, shining alongside the sun, moon, and stars. We have not forgotten your letter, in which you warned us not to covet worldly pleasures. Zhang Yi’s abilities are shallow and his reputation modest. He entered Qin to assist its ruler, hoping to help the ruler of this age achieve hegemony. You used the trees by the river as an analogy and offered the trees deep in the mountains as a warning. Though we have had little contact with you in the past, we have indeed taken your meaning to heart.”

Master Guigu sighed: “How great, Master! Your insight reaches far; you see clearly the rise and fall, success and failure of all things. It is a pity that these two cannot rein in their ambitions and withdraw into seclusion. They would rather sleep like insects, content with nests built of bamboo and reeds, and bring about their own ruin. How sad and painful this is!”

During the Kaiyuan era of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang, the emperor dreamed of immortals and many guards, with groups of carriages and horses gathered in the sky. One figure, dressed in red and wearing a golden crown, descended in a carriage and paid his respects to the emperor. “I am the Nine Heavens Inspector, a deity appointed to tour and inspect the world. I oversee the inspection and correction of human affairs. I intend to build a palace retreat in the northwest of Mount Lu. There are already foundations of wood and stone there; only human labor is needed for the construction.”

The emperor immediately sent an envoy from the palace to inspect the northwest of Mount Lu. There he found clear traces of a building. After a single night, several thousand massive timbers arrived of their own accord, without being carried by human hands. The timber needed for the halls and covered corridors was also delivered in the quantities required. Some said that the King of Jiujiang had felled these trees long ago, intending to use them to build a palace, but they later sank at Mipu in Jiangzhou. Now, the divine beings had brought them here for the construction of a temple.

The covered corridor on the west side of the temple stood over a deep ravine, its pillar bases suspended above the ground. Below, the water rushed and roared, and its depths were beyond sight. Even after many years, the corridor had neither collapsed nor fallen into ruin. When the temple was first built, large quantities of timber arrived in a single night, all marked with traces of water. The foundations for the temple gate and covered corridors also appeared naturally; they had not been formed by human labor tamping and piling earth. Five-colored divine light often shone around the temple, bright as daylight. The craftsmen worked with their axes almost without pause, yet felt no fatigue, and completed the work in ten days or a month.

As the construction neared completion, the palace envoy dreamed that a divine being told him, “Red earth, white clay, cinnabar, and green pigment are underground to the north of the temple. Go and look for them; you will find them naturally. There is no need to seek them far away.” The envoy searched as instructed and found all the materials he needed.

Later, more than five hundred divine officials appeared at the Jianchang ferry crossing. They all seemed to be dressed as Daoist priests and said they were going to the temple of the envoys. Their portraits are still kept in the temple today.

At first, after Emperor Xuanzong dreamed of the divine being, he summoned the Tiantai alchemist Sima Chengzhen and asked him to explain the matter. Sima Chengzhen reported, “Among the famous mountains and great rivers in every region, the spirits who receive offerings from people preside over the rites of worship. The Most High (a revered Daoist deity) feared they might take it upon themselves to bestow blessings or calamities and harm the people. He therefore sent the Perfected Ones (immortals of high rank) to oversee the mountains and rivers, among them the Perfected Lords of the Five Sacred Peaks. The Elder of Mount Qingcheng is chief of the Five Sacred Peaks; the Nine Heavens Director of Destiny of Mount Lunshan governs the registers of life and death in the Nine Heavens; and the Nine Heavens Envoy of Mount Lu governs the registers of the Three Heavens and impeaches and disciplines the gods. All are superior officials of the Five Sacred Peaks.” Temples were therefore built in various places for these deities, where they were honored with vegetarian offerings. That same year, temples were built at the Five Sacred Peaks and the Three Sacred Mountains.

In the river before the Yellow Crane Tower in Ezhou (modern-day Ezhou, Hubei), there is said to be an inscription recording the deeds of Perfected Luo. It says that Perfected Luo once manifested in Ezhou. At the time, he wore his hair in two topknots and looked to be in his forties. He worked as a household servant, but never spoke.

One day, during a grand banquet held in the commandery, he suddenly rebuked someone in public and ordered him to leave at once. Terrified, the man bowed in thanks, then ran into the river below the tower. Everyone found this strange. When the prefect asked why, Perfected Luo replied, “The one I just rebuked was the white dragon in the river. It wanted to harm this city, so I rebuked it and drove it away.”

The prefect suspected this was a lie, so he asked him to make the white dragon appear and prove whether it was true. The man and the prefect went up the tower, and he cast a talisman into the river. Before long, the river darkened, and the white dragon appeared. It was several hundred zhang long, and everyone saw it. The man then sent it away.

This man was Perfected Luo. Today, Perfected Luo Gongyuan often manifests in Shu (the area of modern-day Sichuan), and often presides over matters related to floods and droughts. The Perfected Luo who appeared in Ezhou was probably Luo Gongyuan as well.

Liu An, King of Huainan, was devoted to the way of the immortals. Many practitioners of esoteric arts from across the land came to associate with him.

One day, eight old men came to pay their respects. They looked aged, and their bodies were thin and stooped. The gatekeeper told them, “The king admires the way of immortals, who transcend the world and enjoy long life. Those who come to see him must have something extraordinary about them. You are all so old that you are not the people the king wishes to meet.” The gatekeeper turned them away several times, but they kept asking to be admitted, and he gave them the same answer each time.

The Eight Lords said, “The king refuses to receive us because we are old. How difficult would it be to make ourselves young again?” They shook out their robes and composed their features; in an instant, they had become young boys. Astonished, the gatekeeper led them inside. Liu An rushed out to greet them with his shoes on the wrong feet. He bowed and called himself their disciple, saying, “Immortals of high attainment have come from afar. What teachings have you brought me?” He asked the eight men their names. They replied, “We are Wen Wuchang, Wu Qide, Zhi Baiying, Shou Qianling, Ye Wanzhuang, Wu Jiugao, Xiu Santian, and Cen Yifeng.” Each of them could summon wind and rain, shake thunder and lightning, and startle Heaven and Earth. They could make the sun turn backward and stop flowing water; command spirits and gods, drive away demons, pass through water and fire, and move mountains and rivers. There was no transformation they could not perform.

At the time, one of Liu An’s officials, Wu Bei, had committed an offense. Afraid that Liu An would kill him, and consumed by anxiety, he went to the imperial court and accused Liu An of plotting rebellion. Emperor Wu of Han grew suspicious and issued an edict ordering the Grand Director of the Imperial Clan, an official responsible for the affairs of the imperial family, to travel to Huainan with an imperial tally and investigate the matter.

Before the Grand Director arrived, the Eight Lords said to Liu An, “Wu Bei is a subject who has falsely accused his ruler. Heaven will surely punish him. Your Majesty can now leave the human world. This matter, too, is Heaven’s arrangement for you. Without it, if things dragged on day after day, how could you escape the world?” They brought a cauldron, boiled an elixir, and had Liu An take it. More than three hundred of his relatives and close attendants ascended to Heaven on the same day. Even the chickens and dogs that had licked the medicine vessels flew up with them. The Eight Lords and Liu An had once rested on a rocky mountainside, where only human and horse tracks remained. After that, no one knew where they had gone.

The Grand Director reached Huainan and reported the matter to Emperor Wu. Deeply regretful, the emperor ordered Wu Bei’s execution. From then on, he recruited practitioners of esoteric arts far and wide, seeking elixirs that could free him from the human world, but he never found one. Later, the Queen Mother of the West descended, taught him the Immortal Scriptures, and secretly bestowed potent recipes on him, enabling him to learn the way of corpse liberation—the Daoist means of shedding the mortal body and becoming an immortal in another form. The Maoling tomb, a jade casket, and a golden staff later appeared again in the human world, and the Baodu Daoist scripture was discovered in a mountain cave. These were all signs that Emperor Wu had not died.

During the Longshuo era, the Daoist priest Li Yuanxing of the Zhizhen Abbey in Chengdu planned to build an abbey on She Mountain. One night, he dreamed that a divine being led him up to a great hall on a high mountain, where he paid a visit to the Central Yellow Venerable Lord, a deity revered in Daoism. The Yellow Venerable Lord was several zhang tall, with a snow-white beard. He wore a golden phoenix crown and robes like clouds and rosy mists, and more than ten attendants stood around him. Looking at Li Yuanxing, he said, “I have some timber available. You can use it to build this abbey, so there is no need to worry.” Over the next few days, Li Yuanxing had the same dream again.

Not long afterward, people fishing from a boat in Wansui Pond saw that its water was clear and that many large logs lay on the bottom. They told Li Yuanxing, who sent people to retrieve them. They recovered more than a thousand lengths of dark poplar wood, the longest a hundred chi. He used the timber to build the abbey and had a statue of the Yellow Venerable Lord made to match the figure in his dream. Later, he also built a Hall of Three Venerables, a lecture hall, a purification altar, living quarters, covered corridors, and a gatehouse; there was enough timber for all of them.

In the fourth year of the Yongping era, the year jiashu, Wang Cheng, governor of Lizhou, submitted a memorial: “Twenty li west of Shendu, where the road enters the mountains, there is a mountain called Daochang Mountain. Yangmo Cave lies among sheer cliffs, precipitous above and below and almost inaccessible to human beings. Immortals have long dwelt in the cave. Sometimes there are three, sometimes five, dressed in yellow or purple, and they often come out and show themselves. At that time, people saw more of them than ever before.”

The emperor issued an edict appointing Ren Keyan, an eminent Daoist ceremonial official known as the Master of Numinous Truth and the Gentleman of Silent Insight, together with Shi Zhaoxun, a senior official of the inner court. Carrying a memorial written on blue paper and imperial incense, they went with the palace attendant Yang Zhishu to perform a Zhaijiao purification ritual and give thanks. The immortals appeared again, just as before. The emperor then ordered Jinggu County renamed Jinxian County, Daochang Mountain renamed Xuandu Mountain, and Yangmo Cave renamed Zixia Cave. He bestowed the title Duke of Jade Clarity upon the mountain spirit of Xuandu Mountain, established Zixia Abbey to commemorate the event, and granted the county magistrate Li Yue a red official fish-bag and a formal post.

Beside the great river in Enzhou stands a sheer cliff rising ten thousand ren. High on the cliff face is the entrance to a cave where immortals dwell. When boatmen on the river call out, the immortals often come forth. Most wear purple robes; they lean down to look toward the riverbank and linger a long while before leaving. The river shoal below the cave is shallow. Boats passing through must unload their cargo there and carry it ashore, then wait until the vessels are lighter before continuing.

Liu Zaihong of Xuchuan once passed this shoal. The boatmen told him the story of the immortals in detail, so he joined them in calling out several times. Sure enough, the immortals appeared. On the mountaintop stand many stone peaks, tall and jagged. The highest are nearly a thousand feet, while even the shorter ones reach several hundred. Their stone is bright white, like congealed cream or piled snow, and few people ever go there. In general, the mountains around Qianxia contain places such as Dayou and Xiaoyou: secluded, splendid sites almost beyond human reach, believed to be dwellings of the immortals.

The Collation Officer Su was fond of drinking wine, often sang “Looking South over the River,” and was skilled at making ball clubs. Outwardly, he mingled with ordinary people, but inwardly he supported the cultivation of the Dao. Whenever there was something… (The original text ends here.)

Su, an official in charge of books, enjoyed drinking, could sing “Gazing South over the River,” and was skilled at making ball clubs. Outwardly, he socialized with everyone; in secret, he sponsored the practice of the Dao. Whenever he ran short of money, he would take a ball club to someone and ask for help. The money he received in return he used to buy wine. One day, he ascended to heaven in broad daylight in the prefectural city. This probably happened in the Ren Shen or Gui You year, as recounted by Zhang Wenhuan, magistrate of Fenxi County in Jinzhou.

When the immortal Lord Xu was alive, he once oversaw the construction of a Daoist temple. After the work was completed, he wanted to record the event in stone, so he found an ancient stele. Its inscription was damaged and could no longer be read. He therefore ground away the old characters and carved a new account. From then on, he could never quite put his mind at ease.

One day, while taking a leisurely stroll among the steps in his courtyard, Lord Xu heard someone in the sky say, “Lord Xu, Lord Xu, hurry to the Water Official and ask for help, or an unexpected calamity will befall you.” Astonished, he asked why, but heard no reply. He then burned incense and prayed devoutly, asking that the reason he needed help be made clear. After a long while, a voice came again from the sky: “Though the inscription you erased has vanished, the person who wrote it is now at the Water Official’s tribunal, bringing a suit against you. He says you took away his fame and made your own name known. The Water Official will therefore send someone to summon you for a confrontation. You should quickly find a way to seek help.”

Lord Xu then managed to recover the old inscription and set up a new stele bearing its text. One night, he dreamed that a divine being came to thank him and said, “You have made the names in the inscription visible again, and I have no way to repay you. Please hold a grand Water-and-Land Offering, a large-scale Daoist Zhaijiao ritual, and make offerings throughout the mountains and rivers to all the spirits. In this way, you will gain the recommendation and testimony of the Three Officials—the Heavenly Official, the Earthly Official, and the Water Official—and they will help you attain the Dao.” Lord Xu followed these instructions and eventually attained the fruits of the Dao. Afterward, the Water-and-Land Offering ritual spread among the people. This account was told by Yang Jingzhao, a Daoist priest from Chengdu.

The Daoist priest of the Ma family, whose name was Zhineng, spent his years traveling about the rivers and lakes. In the Ding Si year of the Qianning era, he arrived at Yuliang Abbey. A grand purification ritual was then underway at the abbey. He went straight up to the mountain peak. The Daoist community urged him to stay, but he refused. When he reached the place where the Nine Immortals had attained the Dao, he sat down peacefully and died sitting upright. His face looked as it had in life, and his hands and feet remained supple, just as before.

Sima Ningzheng loved reading and admired the Dao. He spent many years traveling through the jianghu, the world beyond official life. In the early Xiantong era, he practiced the Dao alongside the Daoists Bai Wuyu and Zhang Ranran. Later, at Dongzhen Abbey, he helped the Daoist Zhang Jianbai repair and copy Daoist scriptures. He then continued traveling among the mountains. In appearance, he seemed to be about fifty years old. During the Tianfu era, he traveled between the Western Mountains, Yusun Mountain, and the areas around Yuanzhou and Jizhou, where the local people all knew him.

Sima Ningzheng was stubborn and unruly, and not particularly restrained. He often got into fights with people in markets and alleys. Once, while staying at a Buddhist monastery in Shengmibu, Hongzhou, he spent several days drinking himself drunk and was beaten by someone. The people there were displeased. When he awoke, someone said to him, “You do not observe the rules of a Daoist. You behave so recklessly that you damage the reputation of the Daoist tradition and disturb us as well.”

On hearing this, Sima Ningzheng flew into a rage and said, “I have been insulted by a monk. What is the point of going on living?” He immediately fell to the ground and died. After his death, his skin turned bluish black, and his limbs grew stiff. The authorities sent people to examine the body, and the county reported the matter to the prefecture. It was the height of summer, yet the body lay for several days and still gave off no odor after the examination. The prefecture therefore ordered clothes and a coffin to be prepared, and had him bathed in preparation for burial.

To everyone’s astonishment, he suddenly sat up, shook out his clothes, and climbed out of the coffin, looking as he usually did. He then went into a shop for a drink, just as though nothing had happened. No one could explain what they had witnessed. It is said that in the gengwu year of the Tianyou era, he was still active in Jiangxi.

The hermit Lord Zhu records in the Illustrated Gazetteer of Lingchi County that Zhu Taohui was a recluse. In the first year of the Wude era (618), he lived in Bainümao Village, Shu County. He wore coarse cloth and a plain-colored cap, concealing his name and identity. He supported himself by making straw sandals and charged fair prices, never raising them arbitrarily. Later, he settled on a broad, flat rock beside Baima Stream on Lianping Mountain. The rock was white as ice and smooth as a whetstone, with room for ten people to sit. A tree beside it spread its branches and leaves over the stone, giving it shade; even in the hottest months of summer, the place stayed as cool as autumn. Zhu Taohui often rested there. Many people who admired the ways of antiquity came to visit.

At times, Zhu Taohui earned his living by making wheels. The former chief administrator Li Houde and his successor, Gao Shilian, sometimes invited him with bows and banners—the customary signs used to summon worthy men in antiquity—and sometimes wrote to ask him to come. He met these appeals with easy laughter and gave no reply. Xue Ji, an Adong native and Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent, painted his portrait and inscribed this praise:

The Master knew contentment and lived alone in the mountains. He sold his goods at fair prices and ate just one meal a day. He built himself a dwelling of earth and made a cap by folding leaves. He firmly refused summonses made with bows and banners, and ignored letters inviting him to come. His skill at making wheels was so fine that it could rival Bian, the wheelwright of Qi—an achievement worthy of admiration.

“Rhapsody on the Thatched Hut of the Hermit Zhu Taohui,” by Xue Ji

Those whose hearts are empty and still do not take worldly affairs as a source of glory; those who withdraw from the world find joy in a life of quiet leisure. Thus even a wise and accomplished man like Confucius was mocked by Jieyu, while a man of noble integrity like Ji Kang was ridiculed by Sun Deng. How much more, then, might someone seek out mountains and waters, give free rein to the heart, and delight the spirit; dwell in a thatched hut, far from the dust of the world; set his thoughts on lofty things and cast off worldly cares; and thereby fulfill the noble aspiration to live as a recluse even in an age of clarity and peace.

This song describes the author’s thatched hut: a humble dwelling standing alone high on a mountainside, surrounded by sheer cliffs weathered and crumbling away, with sunlight shining in between them. In his quiet retirement, he entrusts his spirit to a secluded valley in spring, using a branch of wildflowers for a staff and bamboo leaves for a head covering. He places no value on fame and does not cherish pearls and jade. He simply follows the natural breeze and lies at ease beneath the moon.

The courtyard has only a few narrow paths, and his zither has just one string. He strolls idly beside the pond and wanders freely among the mountain rocks and streams, unattached and content. He plays the zither beneath the bright moon and drinks slowly in the fresh breeze, gazing at green pines on the ridges and listening to white cranes cry among the clouds. He passes the time amid mountains and waters, forgetting the loneliness of keeping only his zither and books for company.

The birds in the valley sing in many voices and styles, answering one another. Their feathers are bright with color, and their calls resemble songs and zither strings, sometimes slow and gentle, sometimes quick and urgent. They gather in front of the thatched hut; now and then, a pair of wild ducks flies by, and bees often come inside. The ice and snow melt, and the green waters begin flowing again. Plants sprout before the steps, growing fresh and moist.

The author says he has no wish to associate with worldly people and does not envy those who achieve merit and fame. He believes that worldly affairs ultimately come to nothing, and that it is better to remain for a long time in seclusion among the mountains and forests, quietly gathering in body and mind.

In earlier times, when Lord Xue was serving as magistrate of Pengshan County, he heard of Lord Zhu’s reputation and greatly admired him. He therefore wrote the “Rhapsody on a Thatched Hut” and gave it to him. Later, after leaving office, Lord Xue returned to the capital. He made a special detour to visit Lord Zhu, only to find his dwelling empty. Traces of his former presence were still clearly visible. Lord Xue asked the people of the village about him. They said that Lord Zhu sometimes went away and sometimes stayed; at times he withdrew from view, and at times he appeared before people. He was probably someone who had already attained the Dao.

Lord Xue inscribed a eulogy on the wall, then returned to Chang’an. Several years later, the villagers still occasionally saw Lord Zhu, but never knew where he lived. The stone where he had once withdrawn from the world could no longer be found; beneath the giant tree, only a stone cave remained. In recent years, the cave too had gradually become blocked. Later, a county magistrate who delighted in seeking out unusual things had the “Rhapsody on a Thatched Hut” carved on a stone stele and set it by the cave entrance, near the main road.

When local villagers burn incense and pray for what they seek, their prayers often prove efficacious. If Lord Zhu had not been someone who had attained the Dao and shown signs of it, how could such things have happened?

End of Records of Strange Events, Volume One

Records of Strange Events, Volume Two

Compiled by Du Guangting, Grand Master for Splendid Happiness of the Tang dynasty, Vice Minister of the Department of Revenue in the Secretariat, Master of Guangcheng, Pillar of State, and Duke of Cai

Strange Persons

Li Te, courtesy name Xuanxiu, was a descendant of Lord Lin.

Long ago, Wuluo Zhongli Mountain collapsed, revealing two stone caves: one red as cinnabar, the other black as lacquer. A man named Wuxiang, of the Ba surname, emerged from the red cave. From the black cave came four people, surnamed Hao, Fan, Wu, and Zheng. All five clans wished to appoint one of their own as leader, so Wuxiang proposed a contest: they would throw their swords at the stone caves, and whoever struck a cave entrance would become Lord Lin, the tribal leader. The swords of the four other clans missed; only Wuxiang’s sword caught on the cave.

They then fashioned boats out of earth and carved patterns into them. Placing the boats in the water, they said, “Whoever’s boat floats shall become Lord Lin.” Only Wuxiang’s boat floated, so he was called Lord Mo, meaning leader. He boarded the earthen boat and led his people downstream along the Yi River to Yanyang.

The water goddess of Yanyang stopped Lord Mo and said, “This is a place rich in fish and salt, with broad and fertile land. You could stay here and live with me.” Lord Mo replied, “I still have to find a suitable place for my people to live. I cannot stay.” The Salt Goddess shared his bed that night, then departed at dawn, transforming into flying insects. The other spirits followed her, swarming through the sky and blocking the sun. Lord Mo tried to kill the goddess but could not reach her. With heaven and earth plunged into darkness, he could not tell east from west or north from south. Ten days passed this way.

Lord Mo gave the Salt Goddess a strand of blue silk and said, “Tie this around yourself. If it suits you, then we can live together; if it does not, I will leave you.” She took the strand and tied it on. Lord Mo went to Yang Rock and saw from afar that she was wearing it. He knelt, drew his bow, and struck her with an arrow. After the Salt Goddess died, the spirits that had followed her dispersed, and the sky grew bright again.

Lord Mo boarded the earthen boat once more and traveled downstream to Yicheng. There, the stone banks curved along with the winding spring, forming what looked like a cave. Lord Mo sighed, “I have only just come out of a cave, and now I am to enter a place like this. What am I to do?” As soon as he had spoken, the stone bank split open, forming a passage more than three zhang wide, with flights of stone steps joined one to the next. Lord Mo climbed up and found a flat stone on the bank, five chi long and one zhang wide. He rested on it and used his staff to divine and make calculations; every result was borne out on the stone. He then built a city beside it and settled there.

In later generations, Lord Mo’s people gradually prospered and multiplied. After the Qin unified the realm, it established Qianzhong Commandery in this area. The local taxes were relatively light: forty thousand coins were paid each year. The Ba people called taxes “bao,” meaning “tribute,” so they came to be known as the Cong people, an ancient ethnic group of the Ba region.

Yuan Qi was a man from central Hunan during the Eastern Han. Once, he suddenly fell into a drunken stupor and did not wake for three days. When he came to, what he vomited still smelled strongly of wine. He said that he had been drinking with a celestial deity. Later, when he served as magistrate of Hanyang County, he predicted in advance whether the local harvest would be good or poor, and his predictions always came true. By day he judged affairs in the world of the living; by night he judged affairs in the underworld. One day he suddenly rode a cloud up to Heaven, and no one ever learned what became of him.

Master Qizhen, Li Xifan, lived at Xuanyuan Monastery on Mount Yubei. In the final years of the Xiantong era (the reign era of Emperor Yizong of the Tang, around 873 CE), for several years running, whenever he entered Luocheng and reached the inside of Hui’an Gate, he would change out of his ordinary clothes, dismount, and rest.

A man surnamed Li, whose origins were unknown, looked to be in his fifties and was acquainted with Li Zong, Li Xifan’s uncle. He bowed to Li Xifan and invited him to his home. The man had more than ten young pupils, a wife, and a son, but his family was so poor that even meeting their daily needs was difficult. From then on, whenever Li Xifan came and went from Luocheng, he often stayed at the man’s schoolhouse, and the two grew very close.

One night, Student Li came to Mount Yu to bid Li Xifan farewell. They sat by the stove and talked through the night. Li Xifan asked where he was going. Student Li said, “I have come to take leave of the mortal world, not to travel far away. By order of the underworld authorities, I am in charge of supplying the people of a city with water each day. My term ends this month, so I can stay no longer. I will die in three days, and in five days my wife and child will bury me at the foot of this mountain. They are still short a thousand cash to hire people to take care of the funeral, so I have come to ask my Daoist brother to lend it to me, and to bid him farewell as well.”

Student Li continued, “People in this world use only three to five sheng of water each day. If they use more than that, they diminish their blessings and shorten their allotted lifespan, so they must be careful.” Li Xifan asked how his wife and child would live after his death. Student Li replied, “My wife will be hired to help with funeral arrangements. Her employer’s surname is Wang. My young son will become a monk. His teacher is still in Jiangnan, though, and will not arrive for another two years. His Dharma name is Xingcheng. Until Xingcheng arrives, let the boy stay at the monastery and take his meals there.”

Li Xifan asked, “Could he become a Daoist instead?” Student Li answered, “This child is suited to becoming a monk, not a Daoist. This is beyond human power to change; his fate was settled long ago in the underworld.” After saying this, he took his leave at daybreak.

Afterward, snow and cold blocked the roads, and Li Xifan could not enter Luocheng for five days. When the sky finally cleared, Student Li’s wife came to see him with several people. She said that Student Li had died and had been buried at the foot of the mountain that morning, and that they were still short a thousand cash. She said that her husband had asked Li Xifan for help, so she had come to collect the money and entrust their son to him.

Later, the monk Xingcheng from Jiangnan did indeed arrive and stayed in Li Xifan’s room. Li Xifan handed Student Li’s son over to him. Xingcheng gladly took the boy away, saying, “Since this was arranged long ago, I will teach him the skills and guide him into monastic life.”

More than two years later, Xingcheng returned. The boy had become a monk and could recite the Lotus Sutra with great fluency. At first, Li Xifan had given him Daoist scriptures to read, but after a year the boy could not remember even a single page. This shows that each person has an allotted fate, and the child was indeed suited to becoming a monk.

After Li Ye failed the jinshi examination, he met a man from Hao Mountain in Shanzhou. A sudden thunderstorm broke out along the road, so he took shelter from the rain in a village hut. The nearest homes were far away, and the only person in the hut was a young boy left to watch it. Li Ye led his donkey beneath the eaves. His companions, Li Sheng of the Left Army and the official Yang Zhen, came in as well. Li Sheng had a horse with him, so they all stayed together in the hut.

As the rain gradually eased, night fell. The boy said, “Axi—the old man—is about to come back. He doesn’t like having visitors, so you can leave.” Li Ye replied, “The next homes are far away, and it’s already late. We really can’t continue on our way.”

Before long, the old man returned. He was delighted to see his guests, welcomed them with exceptional courtesy, and urged them to stay the night. After daybreak, he earnestly pressed them to stay again and prepared to host them. Li Ye declined repeatedly, saying, “My grandson told me that Axi doesn’t like visitors. I was also worried that traveling at night would be unsafe, so I didn’t leave. I never expected you to treat us with such consideration; we hardly deserve it.” The old man explained, “My family is poor, and I have no means to entertain guests properly. If I have been a little sparing in my hospitality, it is not because I dislike visitors. Besides, all three of you are military governors. How could I dare not show you respect?”

Li Ye said, “Of the three of us, only one is an official. You’re exaggerating.” The old man replied, “The official carries a command tally, which marks the authority of a commander, and ranks above a military commissioner. A scholar’s command, however, ranks below that of a military commissioner. Still, in the future the scholar will govern five military circuits. Take good care of yourself.”

Several years later, Li Ye still had not passed the jinshi examination, and eventually took up a post in the army. The following year, Yang Zhen was recommended and promoted by Qiu Shiliang. He rose through the ranks to become a military commander and was later appointed military governor of Jingzhou. Li Sheng and Yang Zhen served as military commanders at the same time; Li Sheng later took charge of the Dengzhou military circuit. For his success in campaigns against the Dangxiang, Li Ye was appointed military governor of five circuits, including Zhenwu and Hejing. The number of circuits under his command was indeed just as the old man had said.

Jing Zhiguo was also a Daoist cultivator. He lived on Mount Doutu and often kept company with tigers and leopards, taming them until they were as docile as household dogs. A few crows would often perch on his shoulders and arms, cawing and playing. A large snake also appeared from time to time. When Jing Zhiguo scolded it and drove it away, it would slither off.

One moonlit night, about three tigers fought in the courtyard, leaping and trampling about fiercely. Jing Zhiguo grew angry, picked up a white wooden staff, and struck them. The tigers scattered and left. Creeping plants grew beside the monastery, and rabbits lay among them without fear. Jing Zhiguo could move them elsewhere with his hand, and they were as docile as cats and dogs. He lived on such intimate terms with these unusual creatures. One day, he suddenly left his dwelling, and no one knew where he had gone.

In the military headquarters at Fengzhou, around present-day Feng County in Shaanxi, there was an assistant prefect surnamed Wang. He had once helped plan affairs at the residence of Chancellor Man and was on good terms with the officials who assisted him. Another guest at the residence was named Ren Sanlang. He knew all the officials in the headquarters, but was especially close to Assistant Prefect Wang.

Before long, Ren Sanlang suddenly said to Wang, “You may soon face a little misfortune, but it will also be a blessing.” A little over a month later, Wang indeed lost Chancellor Man’s trust. He claimed illness and remained at home for more than a hundred days. The chancellor ignored him, and all contact between them ceased.

Ren Sanlang continued to visit from time to time. One day he told Wang, “Disaster is about to strike here. The large tree beside the official road has withered, and the calamity will soon come to pass. When its leaves fall, the disaster will follow. Quickly find an excuse to seek medical treatment; that is the only way you can escape it.” Wang thought Chancellor Man was still angry with him and felt it would be very improper to do so.

Ren Sanlang said, “Submit three petitions in a row, stating your case, and you will certainly receive a reply.” Wang followed his advice. Within a few days, he submitted three petitions asking to travel to Guanzhong and Longyou to seek medical treatment. Sure enough, someone conveyed Chancellor Man’s message, urging him to rest and recover. The chancellor immediately ordered him to leave the government office and gave him far more copper cash and silk than was customary. Wang went to the residence to offer his thanks. Chancellor Man invited him to a banquet and gave him bolts of colored silk, brocade, and other gifts.

After Wang returned home, less than ten days passed before he was pressed to set out north. Chancellor Man held a farewell banquet for him outside the city, but as they parted, gave him only a little over two hundred coins. Wang traveled for fifteen or sixteen days and stopped at Haoshan County. Another ten days or so later, news came from Fengzhou that a mutiny had broken out in the army. Within ten days, Chancellor Man had fled back to Baozhong, and all the officials who had shared his compound were killed in the fighting. Wang alone had escaped the disaster.

Wang asked where Ren Sanlang lived and went to visit him again, but found that he had vanished without a trace.

Huang Qi was an officer in the local garrison. He was fond of Daoist arts and had secretly performed good deeds for many years. At Chaotian Ridge, he met an old man whose hair and beard were snowy white, whose face was rosy, and whose skin was like jade. The old man said to him, “Since you are fond of Daoist arts, you will face a great calamity in five years. I will certainly save you. Strive to accumulate hidden De (virtue earned through good deeds that others do not know about), and do not abandon your former aspirations.”

Later, Huang Qi was traveling by boat down a gorge when the boat capsized and sank. The current swept him onto a sandbank. It seemed that someone had rescued him, and he managed to reach shore. When he looked, the person who had saved him was the same old man he had met before. The old man immediately vanished. From then on, Huang Qi saw him often.

Once, Huang Qi met the old man in the town of Shiyu County. The old man invited him to his home. They went out through the north gate and walked two or three li through the woods before arriving. Mountains, rivers, and trees surrounded the place, and the scenery was quiet and beautiful. The old man invited Huang Qi to stay the night.

The old man said, “The mountains and rivers of Shu are a land richly blessed. They should long ago have become the seat of an emperor. But most of the sages of earlier generations guarded the ridges and water sources, cutting off the earth’s veins, so this has not yet come to pass. I know all about the situation here. If you remove the ‘insect’ from the character ‘Shu’ and add ‘metal,’ it will fulfill the saying that Metal De will endure, an emperor will rise in the west, and the four seas will submit. You should spread these words for me.”

The next day, as the old man saw Huang Qi out, Huang Qi discovered that he was already in the mountains of Houcheng, more than seventy li from the county town. When he returned, he told others what the old man had said, but he never found an opportunity to pass the message up to higher authorities. A few months later, Huang Qi died.

The Daoist Wang Faxuan of Kuizhou had an unusually large, long tongue and could not pronounce his words clearly. He had always been troubled by this.

Wang Faxuan, a Daoist priest from Kuizhou, had a very large, long tongue, which made his speech unclear and imprecise. He was often troubled by this, so he vowed to recite the Dao De Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue). In a dream, the Old Lord (Laojun), a deity venerated in Daoism, shortened his tongue. When he awoke, his speech had become clear and fluent. He then devoted himself to reciting the five thousand words of the Dao De Jing, and many efficacious events came to pass.

The Daoist priest Hao Fazun lived at Jianji Temple on Mount Lu. He practiced the Dao with rigor and took sole responsibility for the temple’s affairs. For many years, he had no disciples. One day, he dreamed that the Master Xuanzhong, a Daoist immortal, said to him, “You have no one to help you, yet you keep working diligently. Now there are two children, though unfortunately they are still young.” When he awoke, he told everyone about the dream. Later, as he was traveling down from the mountain, he passed a household where the Wang family had a child just over a year old. As soon as the child saw Fazun, he ran over, clung to his leg, and would not let go. After Fazun left, the child cried and fussed day and night for several days. When Fazun returned, the child greeted him joyfully. The parents said that in three to five years they would send the child to the temple to become a Daoist novice. There was also a child surnamed Liu whose eyes shone with five-colored light. His parents suspected something was wrong and cauterized the corners of his eyes with moxa; the light then disappeared. When the child was four or five, he was sent to the temple. He has since grown up and entered the Daoist path, as the Master Xuanzhong’s words in the dream had foretold.

Zheng, a Gentleman of the Central Secretariat and judicial commissioner of Hunan, was then staying near Mount Yue and had left his belongings with his elder brother, Yu Jianzhai. When one of Zheng’s sons was born, seven cranes circled above their lodging. On the seventh day, the seven cranes returned; on the hundred and twentieth day, twenty-seven cranes appeared together. The weather was clear, though the clouds showed some unusual patterns. The cranes stayed for the entire day before departing. The child was gentle in disposition and dignified in appearance, so he was named “Crane.” This took place in the Gengshen year of the Tianfu era. Jiao Yinhuang, a Daoist priest of Mount Siming, recorded it in a biography.

Li Deyu, Duke of Dunhuang and Grand Commandant, once met an old man named “Crane.”

Li Deyu, Duke of Dunhuang and Grand Commandant Li, was an official of the Tang dynasty. One day, an old man arrived at the gate of his residence with five or six others. They were carrying a huge piece of wood and asked to see Li Deyu. The gatekeepers felt unable to turn them away. Finding the matter unusual, Li Deyu received the old man.

The old man said, “My family has kept this piece of mulberry wood for three generations. I am very old, and I have heard that you enjoy collecting rare objects, so I would like to offer it to you. A precious wonder is hidden inside the wood. If a skilled craftsman can split it open, he will surely discover something. There is a carpenter in Luoyang who is already very old and may have died; perhaps his descendants inherited his skill. No one outside that carpenter’s family in Luoyang can split it open.”

Li Deyu followed the old man’s advice and sent people to Luoyang to find the carpenter. They learned that he had died, but his son came when summoned. After carefully examining the wood, he said, “This wood can be split open little by little.” He then split it into two pipa sound boxes. Just as the old man had said, the wood contained the image of a white ling, a white waterbird, with its wings, claws, and feet all rendered in full detail. But the carpenter had judged the grain of the wood slightly incorrectly, and the resulting pieces were not the right thickness. As a result, one of the birds was missing a wing.

Li Deyu presented the bird with both wings intact and kept the other one for himself. The story continued to circulate among the people. Lu Yanrang, an Assistant Director in the Ministry of Waterways, once heard it from Li Deyu’s grandson.

In Dafubu in northern Hongzhou, there lived a family surnamed Hu. The name of their son has been lost. The Hu family was very poor and had five sons; the youngest was exceptionally tall and powerfully built. After he was born, the family’s fortunes gradually improved. They made their living by farming and raising silkworms, and grew steadily prosperous. People in the village found this very strange.

The Hu family had the boy take a boatload of wheat downriver to sell in the city. Before the boat reached the ferry, it came to a stretch where the riverbank was steep and the road along it impassable, so they had to cross the river. As the boat came in to shore, it was moving too fast to control. The force of the water swept away the sand and caused the bank to collapse, revealing a cave inside. There they found several million coins. The family left the wheat behind, loaded the coins onto the boat, and returned home. From then on, they grew even wealthier, acquiring property in the city, servants, and horses, as well as fine clothes. Everyone said the boy was blessed with good fortune and should not remain in the countryside for long. They began sending him back and forth to the city, where he gradually became familiar with worldly affairs.

One day, as he was traveling along the road, his horse kept pawing at the ground and refused to move forward. He turned to his servants and said, “Coins were once dug up inside the bank where the boat came ashore. There may be something buried where the horse is pawing, too.” He had his attendants dig there, and they unearthed five hundred taels of gold. He took the gold home.

Later, when he went to the city again, he met a Hu merchant, a trader from the Western Regions or other distant lands. The merchant noticed a pearl embedded in the boy’s forehead. He sent someone to take advantage of the boy’s trust and find a way to deceive him. They got him drunk and stole the pearl. At first, the flesh on his forehead had been slightly raised, forming a shape like half a sphere. After the pearl was taken, the flesh sank inward. When he returned home, his family and friends were astonished and grieved at what had happened. From then on, his spirit and vitality declined. He fell ill and died, and the family’s wealth gradually dwindled.

Zhao Zhong, military governor of Xuancheng—an official in the Tang dynasty who governed a region’s military and civil affairs—also had a raised patch of flesh on his forehead. People at the time suspected that a pearl was embedded inside it. Later, Huainan troops captured his prefecture, and Zhao Zhong was killed by mutinous soldiers. One soldier found his head, cut open the forehead, and took out the pearl, which he sold to a Hu merchant. The merchant said, “Since this man’s pearl has lost its owner, it can no longer be used.” He sold it to a maker of Buddhist statues, and in the end it served only as an ornamental pearl on a statue’s forehead.

Zhao Wunu was a native of Shijing in Hezhou (in the area of present-day Hechuan, Chongqing), and he lived within the grounds of the Dayun Temple (a Buddhist monastery). At first, his mother gave birth, several months after conception, to a tiger. It was already dead and of no further use, so it was sold to craftsmen who made statues and painted Buddhist images, who took it to serve as the precious jewel adorning the forehead of a Buddha statue.

Some months later, his mother conceived again and gave birth to a large turtle, which was likewise discarded. A third pregnancy produced a yaksha (a fierce spirit found in Buddhist scriptures), a little over a foot tall, which was also cast away. Several more months passed before Zhao Wunu was born. His features were complete, but from the neck down his body resembled a split gourd. He had shoulders, but his two arms were only a few inches long, with no elbows or upper arms. On the round flesh of each wrist and palm grew six fingers, and the fingernails were all present. His two legs, each one to two inches long, likewise had six toes. Because his mother could not bring herself to abandon him, she raised him to adulthood.

As an adult he stood only a little over two feet tall, but he was a skilled swimmer and could handle a boat. He was crafty and quick-witted, with a glib tongue, yet he delighted in killing, and he made his living by fishing and butchering pigs. In contests such as dragon-boat racing (jingdu), the exorcistic qu rites (folk ceremonies to drive out plague demons), and the singing of bamboo-branch songs (zhuzhici), he always won first place. At the marketplace he often acted as go-between and guarantor in trade. In everyday life he shaved his head and wore black monastic robes, and the common folk called him "Master Zhao" (a colloquial title for a Buddhist monk). In his later years he went bald and wore white clothes, and sometimes he knelt, leapt about, and tumbled to the ground with his body bared; people mostly laughed at him. On occasion he rode a donkey on long journeys, having someone else carry him laid across the saddle like a bag. He had two wives and one daughter, and his food and clothing were ample. At times he beat his household servants, and his strength was such that no one could subdue him.

In the early years of the Qiande era (a reign title of the Former Shu, around 918 CE), Zhao Wunu was sixty years old. His waist and belly were thick, measuring several arm-spans around, while his face was no different from that of ordinary people. His daughter's right ring finger was seven or eight inches long, which was likewise unlike that of ordinary people.

When the Fu clan began establishing its rule in the Guanzhong region and Xinping came under its control, a towering giant appeared and said to a commoner named Zhang Jing, “The Fu clan has accepted the imperial throne in accordance with Heaven’s mandate, and an era of peace is now approaching. Those outside who submit to the central authority will find stability and harmony.” Zhang Jing asked the giant his name, but he gave no reply and soon vanished. The magistrate of Xinping reported the incident to Fu Jian. Believing it to be an ominous supernatural occurrence, Fu Jian had Zhang Jing thrown in jail. Just then, heavy rain fell and the river swelled. Kou Deng, the supervisor of the Pujin crossing, found a shoe in the river. It was seven chi and three cun long; a footprint beside it matched its size, with toes more than one chi long and lines on the sole an inch deep. Fu Jian exclaimed, “What kind of thing could not exist between Heaven and Earth? What Zhang Jing saw was clearly no fabrication.” He then pardoned him.

On East Mountain in Jizhou stood a Daoist temple, across the Xiao River and sixty li from the prefectural city. During the Xiantong era of Emperor Yizong of the Tang, a Daoist master named Yang lived there. He possessed Daoist arts and could use efficacious Fulu (talismans and registers) to help people. Beside the temple were three wells: one yielded water for washing hands, one yielded tea, and one yielded fermented soybean paste. When these things were in short supply, Yang would send someone to draw them from the wells; they could be eaten and also cured many illnesses. After Yang attained the Dao, he tried drawing from the wells again, but they no longer produced anything.

In the pool below Shaozhou city, south of the Yangtze River, the Daoist master Shen Yuanzhi had once hidden books of the Daoists in three stone chests, at the bottom of the pool, during the Kaiyuan era of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang. Shen Yuanzhi was skilled in the art of the Three and Five Prohibitions and Incantations, a Daoist method of restraining evil and driving it away through Fulu and spells. To this day, many people in Shaozhou still know this art, which the locals call the “Southern Method.”

White Crane Mountain lies in Xiangyin County, Yuezhou, along the boundary between Tanzhou and Lizhou. It is where the Daoist Master Tao of the Jin dynasty ascended to Heaven with his entire family, and a Temple of the Immortal Tao was built on the mountain. The mountain is neither remote nor precipitous, yet even soldiers and bandits cannot reach it. The several hundred households living there enjoy peace and security.

The retired scholar Hu Tian lived in seclusion there. His father had once served as governor of Yanzhou, but Hu Tian was devoted to Daoist arts and often dwelt quietly among the cloud-veiled woods. He was well versed in Yin-Yang, astronomical and calendrical calculations, the furnace arts of alchemy and the methods of making gold and silver, as well as Pengsu Dao, divination with the Yi, Wei arts, seal and clerical script, and poetic composition. He had attained considerable skill in all these fields. He regulated his original Qi, cultivated body and mind, and devoted himself to the pursuit of becoming an immortal.

During the Jingfu era, Hu Tian met Ma Chuqian, a native of Shangcai, in Anzhou. Ma made his living by divination. Though blind, he was devoted to his parents; he had not yet mastered the Wei arts, and could barely provide for them. Taking pity on him, Hu Tian brought him into the mountains and taught him the secrets of calculating divination lots. After more than a year, Ma had mastered the art, and Hu Tian sent him back down the mountain.

At that time, a severe drought struck Ezhou. Chancellor Du Hong met Hu Tian and spoke with him about praying for rain. Hu Tian performed an examination to summon the spirits and cast a cinnabar talisman into the river. Before long, heavy rain fell, relieving the drought throughout the region. Du Hong offered him generous gifts of gold and silk in gratitude, but Hu Tian refused them and left. The regional rulers summoned him repeatedly, but he never accepted their commands. To this day, he still lives in the mountains.

Hu Tian once solemnly admonished Ma Chuqian: “The abilities I have learned are for cultivating myself, not for seeking gain on behalf of others. I taught you because you are honest, devoted to your parents, respectful, and careful. If you hope to rely on the arts of making gold and silver to ensure lifelong wealth, my revealing the secrets to you could bring calamity and shorten your life. It is not that I begrudge passing them on. Do not exaggerate or reveal things carelessly just because you know how to calculate people’s fates, lest you bring disaster upon yourself. People are born receiving the Qi of the Five Phases; Qi rises and falls, Yin and Yang wax and wane, and the Five Planets follow courses that may be contrary or aligned. A person’s allotted years may likewise bring good or ill fortune. Yet accumulated good deeds leave blessings, while accumulated evil brings calamity. By looking at how someone acts in daily life, one can see the fortune or misfortune they may encounter. If a person does not cultivate goodness, prayers and rites to avert disaster will be of no avail.”

From then on, although Ma Chuqian would speak to people about their good and ill fortune, he never performed rites to dispel misfortune or spells to suppress evil. Later, he served as an official in Shu, holding the posts of Junior Minister of Works and Acting Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs.

Loyalty

On the second day of the first month of the second year of Guangqi (886), the Hedong army entered the capital. By then, the emperor had gone on a progress to Chencang, and the regional warlords were arriving one after another. The Hedong army’s commander searched the city for court officials. Near Xinchang Well, he seized Niu Cong, the Grand Master of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, along with several of Niu’s nephews, intending to take them to Hedong. Lu Qian, an officer accompanying the army, was ill at the time and had been left by the well, so the troops went on ahead without him.

When Niu Cong reached Hedong, the Prince of Jin received him with the courtesies owed to a teacher and treated him with great respect. Niu, in turn, counseled the prince on loyalty and filial devotion, and on the proper conduct between ruler and subject. The prince often asked him about the court’s old institutions, principles of governance, and essential practices.

In the sixth month of that year, Emperor Xizong took refuge in the area around Bao and Liang. Xiao Gou and Pei Che installed the Prince of Xiang in Chang’an as “Regent.” His commands were circulated through the capital and surrounding regions, as well as Jiangnan and Hebei, to reassure the various factions. Some officials were promoted, while certain regions were ordered to pay tribute. They also sent the Vice Director of the Department of Remonstrance, Zheng Hejing, and a eunuch to Hedong with documents of appointment.

Niu Cong said to the Prince of Jin, “I hear that the emperor is staying at Chencang and may yet travel south to the Liang and Yang region. Installing the Prince of Xiang has not won people’s support. Xiao Gou, Pei Che, and the others did so because they resented the eunuchs’ hold on power and were unwilling to escort the emperor south. The emperor is still away from the capital, so the commands issued by the Prince of Xiang are not true imperial orders.” The Prince of Jin flew into a rage when he heard this. He killed the envoys and burned the commands.

A little over a month later, the roads were cut off, and Hedong could no longer receive news from the court. Deeply worried, Niu Cong fell ill. The Prince of Jin sent doctors and medicine to him many times, and sometimes visited him in person, urging him to eat, but his condition did not improve.

After recovering from his illness, Lu Qian traveled from the Western Capital, begging for food along the way as he sought news of Niu Cong. In the end, he too reached Hedong. The Prince of Jin praised his loyalty and integrity, granted him an official post, and said to the officers around him, “For someone like Lu Qian, who serves his lord with such devotion, I would gladly take off my own clothes to give him and share my food with him. How could I begrudge him office or generous rewards?”

One day, a doctor suddenly told Niu Cong a false rumor circulating along the roads: that the Prince of Xiang had taken the throne and the emperor had died. Niu Cong burst into tears, vomited blood, and fainted. He regained consciousness only after a long while. He personally drafted a memorial to the throne, earnestly describing the Prince of Jin’s loyalty, filial devotion, and integrity. He also wrote that, old and ill as he was, he could not accompany and protect the emperor or go to pay his respects. The words were so impassioned that all who read them were deeply moved. Niu Cong wept for a long time, then finally laid down his brush and died.

The Prince of Jin was stunned and grieved for a long time. He had the doctor killed to atone for what had happened. He then sent the memorial by courier horse, with Lu Qian delivering it to the emperor. When the emperor heard the news at the residence in Qi, he issued an edict praising Niu Cong, posthumously bestowing on him the title “Duke of Loyal Integrity,” and appointing Lu Qian Assistant Prefect of Huazhou.

While Emperor Xizong of Tang was in Shu, he appointed Wang Dong, Director of the Department of State Affairs, as magistrate of Wannian County and concurrently as Vice Censor-in-Chief. Wang Dong first returned to the capital to offer thanks, then sent a memorial by relay station, asking Lu Qian to submit it to the emperor on his behalf. When the emperor heard of this at the Qi residence, he issued an edict commending them: he posthumously honored Lord Niu as “Loyal and Steadfast Lord” and appointed Lu Qian Assistant Prefect of Huazhou.

In the year Yisi, Emperor Xizong returned to Chang’an, and Wang Dong was promoted to Right Grand Master for Palace Attendance. On the twenty-fifth day of the twelfth month, Yihai, the commander of Puzhou broke into the palace city. At the third watch that night, the emperor fled from Baoji. Wang Dong was ill at the time and unable to accompany and protect him, so he stayed alone in Pingkang Ward. Later, he fled to the foot of the Southern Mountains. From then on, he kept his doors shut, living in seclusion to recover for several months.

That summer, the Prince of Xiang assumed imperial authority in the capital and sought out Wang Dong. He publicly announced his intention to summon him, issuing urgent and forceful orders. Xiao and Pei then held power, and people throughout the court and country feared them. Wang Dong grew uneasy and claimed that his illness had worsened before setting out. Upon his arrival, the regime issued an edict appointing him Left Grand Master for Palace Attendance. Wang Dong pleaded illness and refused to attend court, and politely declined the envoys sent by the Prince of Xiang. Imperial physicians came to treat him and offered him medicine, but he refused it all. He then died in grief. On hearing the news, people throughout the court and country were filled with sorrow.

The final passage recounts again that Wang Dong pleaded illness and refused to attend court, turned away the Prince of Xiang’s envoys, and rejected the medicine brought by the imperial physicians. He ultimately died in grief, to the sorrow of the court and the people.

When Emperor Xizong of Tang fled to Shu, Huang Chao captured Chang’an. Officials from across the north and south came one after another to ask for news. Before long, Zhang Zhifang, commander of the Imperial Guards, Chancellor Liu Ye, and other court officials secretly discussed fleeing to where the imperial court was staying. The rebels discovered their plan, and many were killed. After that, travel to and from Chang’an was cut off. The city still had ample stores of grain.

The skilled craftsman Liu Wanyu, the musician Deng Man’er, and the expert archers Zhaixing Hu and Mi Sheng privately discussed a plan. “No one can stand against the great army wherever it goes. Chang’an has plenty of stored grain. Even if the regions stop supporting the court and supplies can no longer be brought in from outside, the city’s reserves could sustain us for years. We have received the court’s favor and are deeply committed to serving the country, but there is nowhere for us to escape. Now the rebels have forced us into their service. We intend to offer a plan that will exhaust the city’s reserves. Once outside supplies can no longer get in and the city runs out of grain, the rebels will naturally be defeated within a year or two.”

Liu Wanyu was a remarkably skilled craftsman. Huang Chao admired his talent and often kept him close at hand. Seizing an opportunity, Liu Wanyu calmly advised him: “The gardens and walls of Chang’an stretch on for more than a hundred li. If outside armies draw near, you must prepare defenses, or the city will be difficult to hold. I suggest building extensive fortifications northward from Wangxian Gate, along the area around Xuanwu Gate and Baihu Gate, and setting up towers and platforms for watching and defending against enemy forces. Only then will the defenses be ready and the city able to withstand a long siege.”

Huang Chao was delighted, took this as a sign of Liu’s loyalty, and ordered each of the two urban districts to recruit one hundred thousand laborers to build the walls. Each worker was to receive two sheng of rice and forty coins a day. The left and right armies had to provide four thousand shi of rice and eight thousand strings of cash every day. The project continued for more than a year, but the work was unfinished and the walls had not been built. Eventually, grain from the Grand Granary had to be used to feed the laborers. Then even elm bark was stripped to serve as ingredients for the imperial meals, yet the walls still remained incomplete. Fearing that the rebels would see through his scheme, Liu Wanyu fled to Heyang. He died of illness a year later.

Deng Man’er was an accomplished pipa player and had been named the finest musician by the Court Music Bureau, which oversaw palace music. Huang Chao was very fond of him and once burned his right hand. Deng claimed that an illness caused by wind had left his hand unable to play, and he consistently refused to perform for Huang Chao. Huang treated him with great generosity, but never once had him pick up an instrument and play. Every three or five days, Huang summoned him to the palace and gave him gold and silk.

One day, Deng Man’er said to a friend: “I have heard that a loyal and righteous person must preserve his integrity even at the cost of his life. The rebels have repeatedly pressured me, but I have never been willing to dishonor myself by playing for them. I have been summoned again today. I think that if I go this time, I will lose my life and never return.” He took leave of his wife, daughter, and son. When the messenger urged him on, he went to the palace to meet Huang Chao.

Huang Chao greeted him happily. “The musicians all rank you first in skill, yet you have always said your hand is afflicted by an illness caused by wind. I have always trusted you. Surely you can play a few notes on the pipa? You needn’t play a whole piece.” Deng Man’er replied: “Ever since I began wearing the crimson and purple robes of an official, every garment I have worn was bestowed by the Tang emperor. I cannot bear to betray the former dynasty’s kindness by using this music to entertain someone else.” Huang Chao flew into a rage, ordered him killed, and massacred his family.

Zhaixing Hu and Mi Sheng were both expert archers whose arrows never missed. Huang Chao was very fond of them, gave them brocade robes, and kept them by his horse as attendants. Later, government troops retook Weiqiao, and Huang Chao personally led his army to resist them. When he reached the bridge, he ordered Mi Sheng to draw his bow and shoot. Mi Sheng fired more than ten arrows. They all flew a great distance, but not one struck its target. Huang Chao demanded to know why his arrows went so far but failed to hit. Mi Sheng replied: “The Tang soldiers are either my relatives or old friends, so I could not bear to strike them.” Huang Chao was enraged and killed him too.

Filial Piety

Yin Xuanzhi, a native of Zizhou, studied the Five Classics in his youth and was especially well versed in the Zuo Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals. After his father died, he built a hut beside the grave and kept vigil there, going before the tomb to mourn and make offerings six times each day. Dragons in the stream and tigers in the mountains often echoed his cries. After some time, spirits and gods came to join in the mourning. Each night, two lamps would shine before the grave and remain lit until dawn.

When his mother later died, he kept vigil beside her grave for another six years. His thatched hut fell into disrepair, but he never fixed it, instead living in a pit dug into the earth. He later fell ill; his back and legs became weak, and his voice grew hoarse, yet he continued teaching and reciting without tiring. He often told people, “I sought official rank by every possible means, but not for my own sake. Both my parents have died, and I failed to care for them while they were alive. What use is there in seeking office and its emoluments now?” In the end, he never sat the civil service examinations. He lived in poverty and died in his eighties.

Yang Taibo, a native of Zizhou, kept vigil beside his parents’ graves for three years from the age of sixteen. A divine lamp shone before the tomb, and a fierce tiger lay tamely nearby. There were also auspicious signs, such as the appearance of a white rabbit. Wang Gong, a chancellor of Shu, reported the matter to the court. The court ordered that Yang be commended and a commemorative marker erected for his family.

Julong Hongdao lived south of Yanwu Pavilion, below Mount Zitong. He kept vigil for his parents beside the official road. He was over eighty years old, and his hair had grown more than a zhang long. On each of his parents’ graves, a stalk of purple lingzhi grew, six or seven inches tall. Fierce beasts, too, often lay tamely beside him.

In the xinchou year of the Guangming era (881), Emperor Xizong of Tang came to Shu and visited Julong Hongdao at his home. He sat in the courtyard on a large stone. Julong later built a pavilion to shelter the stone. In the yisi year (885), while returning to the capital, Xizong visited his home again and bestowed much money, cloth, and clothing. He made such gifts on both occasions when he passed through. While staying at Jianzhou, the emperor issued an edict exempting Julong’s family from taxes and levies for three years and granting him a commemorative honor.

Resonance

Zhu Bo, the magistrate of Jiajiang County in Jiazhou and an Honorary Minister of Works, once fell ill. His limbs would not move, and his whole body felt heavy. Whenever he needed to turn over, several people had to help him up. Thinking he had suffered paralysis, he took medicine, but it had no effect. Then his eyes suddenly began to hurt and twitch, and he suffered terribly day and night. A few days later, he suddenly became thirsty and drank water and broth desperately, consuming an uncountable amount. A few days after that, his mind became confused and agitated, as though he could see something. Fortunately, his body was so heavy and immobile that he could not move; otherwise, he might have fled wildly with his hair loose, fearing nothing.

Within just ten days, several different illnesses appeared one after another. His condition grew critical, and he seemed close to death. Unable to sleep day or night and utterly exhausted, he drifted between wakefulness and sleep. In this state, he saw seven immortals seated before him, each only five or six inches tall. Their clothes, hats, eyebrows, eyes, beards, and hair were all clearly visible. Five sat leaning against something, while the other two sat crosswise at either side. Zhu Bo wondered: since immortals sat upright, how could anyone sit crosswise? Just then, he heard someone answer from the air beside him: “Since they are immortals, nothing is forbidden to them. What is so strange about that?” When the voice fell silent, he could no longer see the speaker, and the seven immortals disappeared as well.

After that, Zhu Bo often felt someone grasping his hands and feet, then stroking and patting his back. His condition gradually improved. His intense craving for iced water and broth had also fallen by half. Three to five days later, he was able to attend to official business and receive guests, and he recovered completely. He then had an image of the seven Northern Dipper Star Perfected Ones—a group of immortals associated with the Northern Dipper faith—painted and set it up for worship.

The Right Vice Director Yin Xiang fell gravely ill in the third year of Yongping. At first, he suffered from dysentery, having diarrhea fifty or sixty times a day and night. After a long illness, he began to show signs of mental confusion, agitation and fever, disordered speech, and forgetfulness. He often felt an urge to stagger about and run, so his family had to take turns watching over him. Later, he could no longer move his hands or feet, and his body grew heavy. Whenever he tried to get up, four or five people had to help him sit against a desk. Several more months passed, and his family, exhausted from caring for him day and night, could barely keep going.

Suddenly, an old man with white hair and beard, dressed in white, appeared and said to Yin Xiang, “Your illness has improved. Why don’t you get up at once?” The old man supported his head with one hand, and Yin Xiang was able to sit up. He looked around, then got up on his own, added oil to the lamp and lit it, went to the bed to fetch his shoes, and put them on. Seeing that the servants were all asleep from exhaustion, he did not want to disturb them. He took a candle and went out, walked once around the compound, and then returned to where he had been. His whole family was astonished. From then on, he recovered completely.

Unusual Dreams

When Yu Puju, Minister of Rites, sat for the jinshi examination, he was highly regarded, and everyone thought he was certain to pass. He dreamed that he entered the Cassia Palace, the legendary palace in the moon, and broke off a branch of cassia to show people when he returned. But he found that the branch had withered and scorched. Before long, he failed the examination.

That year, he married a woman of the Gui family. About ten days after the wedding procession, someone secretly noticed that a patch about a finger’s width on her forehead had been coated with hair oil. On inquiry, it turned out that she had been burned there as a child, leaving a scar where no hair could grow. For this reason, she was also called “Lady Cassia.” Yu Puju never passed the jinshi examination.

Zong Kui, courtesy name Guangtian, formerly Chief Administrator of Yuanzhou, dreamed in the year Wuyin of an enormous balance scale weighing ten thousand jin. He had the same dream three times in succession. In the dream, the scale hung from a crossbeam at the ridge of a building. Before long, both the beam and the scale broke and fell. He found the dream deeply ominous. On the eighth day of the tenth month that year, the day Wushen, he died at the age of sixty-one.

In the first month of the xin-chou year of Guangming, Emperor Xizong of Tang had already reached Guo County in Zuomian. Ren Shi, the military governor, was taking a short nap in the government office during the day when he suddenly dreamed that a minor official patrolling the streets came to report, “The Great General is welcoming the imperial carriage. You should go and wait by the roadside.”

Ren Shi immediately hurried to the main road. He saw several thousand soldiers and horses marching north, their banners and ranks exceptionally orderly. Their weapons and armor made a magnificent display, and the procession stretched for more than ten li from front to back. A long time passed before it had all gone by. More than a thousand soldiers, clad in armor that gleamed with golden light, surrounded a man riding a white horse, wearing a red-plumed helmet and golden armor. Banners painted in five colors and bearing the sun and moon also accompanied the procession.

Ren Shi bowed. It took about as long as two meals for the entire ceremonial procession to pass. He asked the person who had delivered the report, “Who is the Great General?” The man replied, “He is General Li, behind Fading Temple.”

When Ren Shi awoke, sweat had soaked his entire body. What he had seen in the dream remained so vivid that it seemed to be right before his eyes.

That year, I was ordered to go to Mount Qingcheng to preside over a Zhaijiao purification ritual. I heard this account and recorded it.

End of Records of Strange Things, juan three

Records of Strange Things, juan four

Inscribed and recorded by Du Guangting, Grand Master for Splendid Happiness, Vice Minister of the Board of Revenue, Master of Guangcheng, Pillar of State, and Duke of Cai

Ghosts and spirits

The presented scholar Cui set out from beyond the pass for the capital, where he was to sit the examinations. One morning, he had traveled more than ten li beyond Tong Pass. It was still dark, and the road was empty except for a servant, a sedan chair, and a donkey. Suddenly, a procession approached, its members carrying torches and escorting someone in great numbers. Its banners and weapons were in orderly array; there were about two hundred people, and it looked like a military governor traveling on official business. Cui hid behind a locust tree and continued on only after the procession had passed. After he had gone another two or three li, the procession turned back. He hid again, then slowly resumed his journey.

On the road, he came upon a sturdy attendant escorting a load of tea, walking at a slow pace. Cui asked whom he was serving. The attendant replied, “The Mountain God is welcoming a Celestial Official, a functionary of the heavenly realm. The Celestial Official’s surname is Cui, and he is called the Censorial Scholar. He is about to enter the pass to sit the examinations. Why don’t you go pay your respects and ask about your own prospects?” Cui said he had no way to secure an audience. The attendant offered to make inquiries for him.

They reached the Mountain God’s temple before dawn. The attendant told Cui to wait by the gate while he went inside with the tea. After a long while, he came back and said, “The Censorial Scholar invites you in.” Cui was led to meet the Celestial Official, who was delighted to see him and invited him to stay. Before long, the Mountain God arrived. He exchanged a few words with Cui, then invited him into the temple. Curtains and banquet tables had been set up inside, and music, singing, and dancing filled the place. The Celestial Official hosted a feast for Cui and instructed his attendants to look after him well, providing tea and other refreshments. He treated Cui with great warmth.

After drinking for some time, Cui grew tired. He wandered about, looking at the surroundings, and without realizing it, walked out of the temple gate. Suddenly, he came upon his maternal uncle by marriage. The man took Cui’s hand and reminisced with him. His face was haggard, his clothes worn, and he wept as he greeted him. Cui said, “Uncle, you look as if you died long ago. How is it that we meet here?” His uncle replied, “I left the world fifteen years ago, but have never found a place to settle. Recently I became the god of Fushui Bridge. I spend all day laboring at receptions and farewells, and my clothing and food are meager. Life is truly hard. I know you are on good terms with the Censorial Scholar, and that you are related by marriage. I’d like to ask you to introduce me to him. If I could become the God of Wealth for the Southern Mountains, I might at least escape hunger, cold, and hardship. If I were promoted later and entered the offices of the heavenly realm, I could leave the torments of the underworld behind.”

Cui said he had only just met the Celestial Official and did not know whether he could make the introduction, but he would try to raise the matter. He then returned to his quarters to find the Celestial Official. Before long, the banquet ended, and the Celestial Official came back to chat with him. “You will pass the examinations the year after next,” he said. “It won’t matter if you don’t sit them this year. I have official business to attend to shortly, and then I must return. The journey is pressing, so I cannot stay long.” Cui told him about his uncle’s request. The Celestial Official replied, “The post of God of Wealth is roughly equivalent to a human official responsible for filling vacancies. It is an esteemed position with little routine work. The god of Fushui Bridge holds a low and mixed post, so he may not be able to take it up at once. Still, I can put in a word for him. The Mountain God should not object.”

The Celestial Official went at once to see the Mountain God. Cui quietly approached and clearly heard him plead his uncle’s case. The Mountain God agreed, and ordered a letter of appointment to be drawn up. Cui’s uncle soon received the appointment and came to offer his thanks. One or two hundred officials came to welcome him, with their attendants neatly arrayed. When he saw Cui, he said gratefully, “Without your help, nephew, I would never have obtained this post. One more promotion, and I will enter the offices of the heavenly realm. This year the local gods have reported that the Wei River will flood. Your estate will be washed away, and the neighboring households will suffer too; three to five hundred households are expected to be affected. I have already sent people to protect your estate, so you will escape the disaster in the fifth or sixth month. I’m also sending you five hundred bolts of fine silk as thanks.”

Before long, the God of Wealth departed by carriage, and the Celestial Official also set off to return to the Mountain God. After the Mountain God saw Cui off, Cui remained alone in the temple, dazed, as if waking from a dream. When he left the temple and went to look for his servant, he found that the servant was still at the inn. None of what had happened along the road had left a trace. Cui therefore did not enter the pass; instead, he turned back and went to live at his country estate.

That summer, the Wei River did indeed flood, causing severe damage along its banks. Only Cui’s estate was spared. An empty boat was found moored in front of it, and after the water receded, five hundred bolts of silk were discovered inside. Cui became even more convinced that his uncle’s words had been no empty promise. The following year, Cui indeed passed the presented scholar examination. This account was related by Wang Daqing Zi of the Imperial Clan Court.

Duan Wenchang, Duke of Zou-ping, was exceptionally talented, yet looked down on worldly conventions. Down on his luck, he drifted through the Jing-Chu region. He often drank until half drunk and walked back and forth along the main streets of Jiangling in wooden clogs. The rain had just stopped, and the roads were thick with mud. Beside the street stood a grand residence, with a canal running in front of its gate. After drinking, Duan took off his clogs by the canal and washed his feet, speaking as if no one else were there: “When I become military governor of Jiangling, I’ll buy this residence.” Those who heard him covered their mouths and laughed. Within a few years, he was indeed governing Jingnan, and he bought the residence.

Duan Wenchang once served the Grand Commandant, Prince of Nankang Wei Gao, as a postal inspector in Chengdu, a post involving patrols and the delivery of official documents. Later, when Duan suddenly fell out of favor, Wei Gao dismissed him and appointed him acting assistant magistrate of Lingchi County. Duan hurriedly accepted the order and set off for his post with only a frail servant and a poor horse. When he was six or seven li from Lingchi, it was already completely dark, and no one was on the road. Suddenly, two torches appeared ahead to guide him, and someone called out, “The Grand Commandant has arrived!” But when he reached the city gate, all the torches went out. He knocked for a long time before the county magistrate finally sent someone to meet him, and only then was he able to enter the city.

Later, Duan Wenchang and Wei Gao were ordered to travel to Chang’an. Duan was a close friend of Liu Yuxi. At the time, Liu was serving as a vice director in the Ministry of Rites. Duan went to visit him while Liu was chatting with a diviner who interpreted omens and predicted good and bad fortune. When Duan suddenly arrived, the diviner hid behind a curtain. After Duan had left, the diviner came out and said to Liu Yuxi, “If you hope to seek promotion within the ministry, the time is still far off. You must wait ten years. When this guest enters court and becomes a chancellor, you will be transferred to a senior director’s post in your own ministry.”

From then on, Liu Yuxi remained out of favor and was repeatedly sent to serve in the provinces. More than ten years passed. Only after Duan Wenchang entered court as chancellor was Liu appointed director in the Ministry of Rites and summoned back to the capital. Events unfolded just as the diviner had foretold.

In the summer of the gengwu year, heavy rain fell continuously in Shu, and the Min River rose so high that it nearly destroyed the dikes around Jingjiang and Guankou. At night, people on the dike heard cries and commotion, as though hundreds or thousands of people were carrying countless torches. The wind and rain were fierce, yet the flames never went out. At daybreak, people found that the great dike had shifted several hundred zhang, and its water had flowed into the Xinjin River. The banners standing in the Shrine of Li Bing were also all soaked. Huang Jing, the magistrate of Daojiang County, submitted a report about the event together with the Zhenjing Army. At the time, flooding was especially severe around Xinjin, Jiazhou, and Meizhou, yet the Jingjiang did not overflow.

When Zheng Junxiong was serving as governor of Suizhou, one evening he suddenly saw several thousand soldiers arrayed in formation and encamped around Shuishutian. Flags and tents stood in rows, and the din of voices was just like that of an army on the march. He did not dare send anyone to investigate rashly, and could not tell what was happening, so he ordered the prefecture to strengthen its defenses.

At daybreak, he sent people quietly to look. They found that the great army had already left, with only three or five people remaining. When questioned, they replied, “We are the spirits of the Jiang River, guardians of the waterways.” They said that in a few years the Sichuan region would fall into turmoil, and they would then move to the gorges. Once the surrounding regions were at peace, they would return to Sichuan.

Several years later, the Sichuan region indeed fell into turmoil, and the spirits moved to the gorges. When peace was restored, they moved back to Sichuan. Zheng Junxiong sent people to inspect the site and found traces of encampments and fire-damaged tents, all of which confirmed the account. When local people asked who they were, they again received the answer: “the spirits of the Jiang River.”

It is said that in Tang Village, on the eastern bank of Suizhou, a man once appeared by the roadside wearing a loose, wide-sleeved robe and an old-fashioned cap. He told the villagers, “I am King Zhongli. Long ago, I had a temple more than a thousand li downstream, but it was later destroyed by the waters. Now my statue is traveling upstream along the river and will soon arrive. You can build me a temple here.”

The villagers went to the riverbank to look and indeed found a wooden statue several feet tall. They built a temple where it had appeared and called it the Tang Village Spirit Temple. To this day, people pray there during droughts or floods, and it is said that their prayers are answered. Some say that the man who first appeared looked like a Daoist.

In Guangdu County there was a temple dedicated to Pangu Sanlang, whose spirit often made its presence known. When people passed the temple gate, even the slightest show of disrespect was often met with an unmistakable punishment: some were beaten by others, while others fell along the road. People near and far therefore feared and revered the temple.

Yang Zhiyu, a local man, had once received the Zhengyi Mengwei Register, a Zhengyi ordination rite marking the recipient’s entry into the Daoist community. One evening, he got thoroughly drunk and set off for home. The journey was long and the moonlight dim. As he passed the temple gate, he called out loudly, “I am a Zhengyi disciple. I am drunk, and the night is dark, with no companion to accompany me home. I hope the spirits will use their divine power to light my way.”

Before long, a torch emerged from the temple gate and led the way ahead of him. Yang Zhiyu walked more than twenty li before reaching home. Along the way, even when he crossed narrow bridges and paths, he neither fell nor stumbled. Once he arrived home, the torch disappeared at once. When people in the village heard what had happened, they were all amazed.

Outside the gate of the Jiutian Shizhe Zhenjun Temple (Temple of the Perfected Lord, Envoy of the Nine Heavens) on Mount Lu stood a stone shaped like a roof tile, smooth and clean. People often came to look at it and stroke it, and it was said to be rather numinous. Anyone who committed impure acts in the temple was often seized by the Lingguan (Numinous Officials, the spirit-generals of Daoism responsible for protection and enforcing discipline) and punished beside the stone.

Later, a child from a household that lodged near the temple played with the stone, sitting on it several times and even urinating on it. Soon afterward, Liu Dun went to the prefectural government to file a complaint against the child. The prefectural magistrate sent men to search the temple, but they found only the child's play with the stone and no trace of Liu Dun living in front of the temple.

At that time, Master Mao was lodging in the temple. He said that a certain official named Liu Dun had recently claimed to live in front of the temple and had even come to visit, and the two had conversed very congenially. Liu Dun was learned and had visited before, but Master Mao did not know where he lived. Hearing that the child had sat on that man's head and urinated on his body, Master Mao suspected that the stone was the very one Liu Dun had described. The people then dug beneath the stone and, at a depth of three or four chi (about a meter), came upon another large stone that formed a very broad foundation. Everyone found the matter marvelous, and so they built a small pavilion and enclosed the stone with gauze screens to keep it clean.

Yongqing County in Fangzhou lay one hundred and twenty li east of the prefectural seat. It was a dilapidated mountain town with desolate walls. During the reign of Emperor Muzong, a county magistrate surnamed Sun came from the capital...

Fangzhou's Yongqing County lay one hundred and twenty li east of the prefectural seat. By then the mountain town had fallen into ruin, and its walls stood deserted. In the reign of Emperor Muzong of the Tang, a county magistrate surnamed Sun arrived from the capital to take up his post. About a year later, his younger brother came to visit, and on seeing how the county had decayed, he was deeply troubled.

In his free time, the magistrate's brother walked through every part of the town, and wherever he looked there were only weeds and brambles. He came upon an abandoned temple in which clay statues were arranged in rows: one deity sat at the center, with three women attending at his side. The temple gate bore no plaque, so he could not tell whom it honored. When he asked the county officials, they all said it was the temple of the "Great King of Yongqing."

He lingered in the temple for a long time, and his melancholy would not lift. He wrote a poem on the wall to give vent to his feelings. Before long he drifted into a drowsy sleep, and in his dream he met the deity, who spoke to him:

"For a long time my deeds have gone unknown, and this has weighed on my heart. I wished to set down my origins, but I feared I would be taken for a demon or a strange apparition. Now that you have come to ask, I can at last voice the wish I have long held and ease the resentment I have carried for years.

"I am a native of Piling. My grandfather, Zi Yin, served as a great general, and his biography appears in the histories of the Wu state. My grandfather slew the fierce tigers of the Southern Mountain and cut down the dragon of the Long Bridge, removing the harm that afflicted the common people, and so he accumulated considerable hidden virtue (unrecorded good deeds). I too have long held the aspiration to achieve merit by assisting my age.

"My name is Kuopu. Under command of the Lord on High, I govern the fierce beasts in the four commanderies of Jin, Shang, Jun, and Fang. In this region, ferocious beasts once preyed on the people, so that fishing and woodcutting could not be carried on, and the roads were cut off. Over several years I destroyed countless tigers, and as a result the people were able to live in peace. The leader of the tiger packs dwelt in the Western City Commandery. It was enormous in body and exceptionally swift in its movements, its pelt was like white brocade, and its forehead bore markings that gleamed brilliantly. It caused the greatest number of human deaths, and I killed it as well, and wiped out its kind. The people of the region, grateful for my kindness, built a temple in my honor. From the north of the Xiang and Han rivers to the south of Languan, there are more than thirty places where my image has been modeled and my shrines erected. These temples are the places where I rest.

"As years and generations passed, popular tradition came to contain many errors, and my temple was wrongly called the Temple of the White Tiger Spirit, which is truly absurd. Fortunately, you have come to inquire, and so I may explain the whole course of events. I hope you will record these matters and make them public, so that the errors may be corrected."

Afterward, the magistrate's brother related this experience to the guests and subordinates in the staff of the Xiangzhou military governor. They composed an account of it, which was carved on wooden boards in the temple. Because the boards were eroded by dust and soaked by rain, the characters gradually grew faint. In the renshen year of the Dazhong era, Wang Shicheng, a Judge of Customs Observation in Xiangzhou, toured the counties and prefectures under his jurisdiction. Seeing this record, he judged it extraordinary, and fearing that the text would lose its accuracy once the boards decayed, he had it recarved on a stone stele.

The ancient ritual regulations stipulated that those who could withstand great calamities, relieve the people of major afflictions, and extend their merit to the populace should be sacrificed to across generations. Lord Zhou inherited his father's valor and received the command of the Lord on High, and he left many connected shrines throughout the four commanderies. The benefits he bestowed upon the people were wide-ranging, and he rightly deserves to receive sacrifices. Yet the people of the region mistakenly took his temple for a temple of the White Tiger Spirit. Had the descendant of the Sun family not inscribed a poem that made the spirit of Kuopu manifest and responsive, his divine merit would never have been made clear, and the distinction between right and wrong could not have been established. Those who read this text hereafter should examine it carefully and keep this matter in mind.

After the Hezhou county of Bachuan suffered war, the government offices were destroyed, and the magistrate had to move into a mountain stockade, where the county at last had some measure of safety. While Magistrate Cui was in office, a strong soldier stole timber from the stockade wall. He was caught and sent to the town, where the garrison commander had him executed. The soldier's family had once worshipped the God of Bishan. After his death, the God of Bishan came to haunt Magistrate Cui's household. People saw a divine shadow coming and going, and others heard cursing in the air. The spirit also hurled fire and candles, damaged household objects, and made money and clothing vanish without cause. Boxes and baskets stayed locked, yet most of the garments inside were torn to shreds. The Cui family summoned various fangshi (masters of esoteric arts) to perform exorcisms, but none could stop the haunting.

When Magistrate Cui retired and returned home, the haunting followed him, even though he was a thousand li away. The spirit ate and drank every day as a person would, so the whole family had to keep attending to it, at great expense, until they could scarcely afford it. Then one day the household heard the flapping of a great crow's wings. It circled above the roof for a long time, and afterward a voice called out loudly in the air, "I have arrived!" Everyone in the household, young and old, came out to greet it and wait upon it.

The spirit called itself "Great King" and said, "Your family has recently met with misfortune because my brethren of Yongxi have been unreasonable. They have destroyed your livelihood, caused you losses, and produced all sorts of strange events. I expect you have been very frightened, but I have now sent them all away. Your calamities are over, and good fortune is about to arrive. I have come in person, though I will stay only a short while and not for long. First, lend me the Tianpeng niche (a small shrine enshrining an image of Tianpeng). Your image of Tianpeng is well made, and I want to take it up to heaven to have a copy made. It will be returned in three to five days."

A few days later, the Great King set the image of Tianpeng high up on the eaves, and the image suffered no damage whatsoever. From then on, the spirit often remained in the Cui household day and night and frequently summoned the master of the house to converse. Sometimes it had the young and old of the family recite poetry, compose essays, and play music, and whenever they began, it could sing along with them. If anyone misread a character, it corrected them at once. In conversation it often urged people to do good, and it also encouraged them to learn Qi (vital energy) techniques and to cultivate the Dao (the Way). It further claimed that it ordinarily rode a crane back and forth to heaven.

At first, a flock of cranes appeared in the county town. The Great King said that only two of them were true cranes that it had ridden there, and the rest were ordinary crows. At times it called itself a member of the Zhang family, and its daily food and drink were no different from a human's. It also had a companion named Jinxiu Niang, a woman, along with a wife, servants, and others, who consumed a considerable amount of food.

In general, it was willing to speak only with those who were good and upright, and it ignored those who were violent and domineering. It also said that once, when it had ascended to heaven, three drunken monks and a strong soldier came to visit. Their speech was reckless, and they gave it offense, so it stopped speaking. After those men left, it slowly remarked to the others, "That monk eats dog meat and drinks wine. He is fierce and lacks virtue (De), and I do not wish to speak with him."

It could clearly perceive people's good and evil deeds, as well as their calamities, blessings, and fortunes, and nothing it said failed to come true. It even knew the personal names and birth-order names of people, one by one. When someone asked it for details, it answered with other words instead. For this reason, people still did not know what kind of spirit it truly was.

Record of Strange Occurrences, Volume Five

In the early Yongping era, there was a monk named Huijin. Once his modest renown spread, he could name correctly every person and event he encountered. But whenever someone pressed him for details, he answered with other words, so no one knew what kind of spirit he truly was.

In the early Yongping era, there was also a monk named Huijin, whose secular surname was Wang, who lived at Fugan Temple. One morning he went out and reached the gate of Zifu Courtyard, where he saw a tall, strange man, his whole body as blue as indigo dye, drawing near him. Huijin fled in terror, running all the way to Zhukui Bridge, and then dashed into a household. The strange man followed him inside, seized him, and tugged at him, and no matter how Huijin struggled, he could not break free. Huijin wept and begged, and the man asked, "What is your surname?" Huijin replied, "Wang." The man said, "Same given name, different surname." Then he let go and departed. Trembling with fright, Huijin stayed hidden in that household until he calmed down, and then he returned to the temple. That very night, a man who shared Huijin's given name but had a different surname died.

End of Volume Four of the Record of Strange Occurrences.

Record of Strange Occurrences, Volume Five

Compiled by Du Guangting (Tang-dynasty Daoist and compiler of Daoist scriptures).

Dragons

The abode of the Sea Dragon King lies east of Suzhou, a voyage of five or six days by boat out to sea. There is a small island there, and the waters in front of it stretch more than a hundred li wide. The sea around is murky on all sides, yet this stretch alone is clear and windless, though enormous waves several zhang high rise upon it, so boats dare not approach lightly. Only when a great tide rises and floods over the area do the waves vanish from sight, allowing vessels to pass through.

At night, viewed from afar, one can see on the water a red light like the sun, covering a radius of more than a hundred li and reaching straight to the horizon. Those aboard the ships say that the Dragon King's palace lies beneath these waters.

Liu Zihua served as the magistrate of Chengdu during the Tang dynasty. One day at noon, a carriage procession arrived at the government hall, led and followed by female riders. Someone announced to Liu Zihua, "The Dragon Maiden is about to arrive." Before long, the Dragon Maiden alighted from her carriage and, supported by her attendants, climbed the steps to meet him. She said that in a previous life she had been destined to become his wife. She then stayed, ordered wine and music prepared, and the two were married according to ritual. Afterward, the Dragon Maiden departed. From that time on, she often came and went, and people near and far knew of the matter. When Liu Zihua left office, he disappeared without a trace. Popular legend holds that he entered the Dragon Palace and became a Water Immortal (shuixian, an immortal dwelling in the water).

Liu Zihua's grandson, Liu Junqing, served during the Qianfu era as a yayi (a military staff officer) in the office of the jiedushi (military governor), and was stationed at the town of Qingcheng. He was generous and fond of doing good, often using medicines to treat the illnesses of poor people, and he frequently visited and looked after soldiers and common folk in person. He carried out his public duties diligently and cautiously, dealt with others sincerely, and was therefore respected by his contemporaries. He owned a pearl, about the size of a ball, said to have been left by his ancestors, which his family had passed down for generations as a treasure. The pearl could reflect the shapes of objects, showing even their hairs and colors clearly, except that every image appeared upside down.

At that time, Han Zhu, the bandit leader of Jinyuan, captured Qingcheng and the nearby marketplace towns (caoshi, rural market towns). Liu Junqing, serving as the garrison commander of the town, led his subordinates to relieve the town of Taoyan, but was surrounded by the bandit army. He took thirty elite soldiers and fought several hundred enemy troops. The forces were badly unequal, and though they were about to fall into enemy hands, more than ten infantrymen still surrounded Liu Junqing and tried to break out, but they ultimately failed, and Liu Junqing was killed by the bandit army. Everyone, near and far, who heard of this grieved deeply.

In Dangyang County, Jingzhou, a residence was built against a mountain, and it contains a deep well called the Liu Wenlong Well. A dragon's nest lies inside the well and extends sideways along the wall, and no one knows how far it reaches. When the sky is about to clear or about to rain, clouds often rise from the well. In the Guanghua reign period, a Daoist priest who claimed to have come from Shangshan entered the well, took out the dragon's nest and some medicinal herbs, and then departed. Later, Huang Xun took up a post in the area and often whipped his horses beside the well, so that filth flowed into it. People mocked him, and he made up stories to deflect their ridicule. Within a little over a year, Huang Xun and his horses both went blind.

In the Gengwu year of the Shu region, Wang Zonglang, Prefect of Jinzhou, memorialized the throne, reporting that beside the Xun River in Xunyang County stood a Qingyan Temple. For several days, the smoke and clouds above the temple were dim, and music sounded day and night. Then one morning the water surged, and many dragons emerged from the river and swam toward the Han River. The larger ones were several zhang long, and the smaller ones over one zhang. They were yellow, black, red, white, and blue, and some resembled oxen, horses, donkeys, or sheep. In all there were fifty, following one another as they swam into the Han River. They then turned back toward the temple, moving back and forth for several li, sometimes vanishing and sometimes reappearing, and they did not stop until three days later.

In the Guiyou year, a small dragon appeared in the fields around Xipu. It was blue-black and had been cut in two. Ten days later the corpse rotted and stank, and before long it too disappeared. On the west side of the great hall of Mohe Pond there is also a dragon well, very numinous, and people do not dare to offend it.

Within the Chengyan Guan (Chengyan Abbey), south of Marquis Wu's residence in the Shutai Ward of Chengdu, there is an ancient well. In it lives a fish six or seven cun long, which often swims up to the surface. Whenever it does, the well water always churns. Legend holds that a dragon dwells in the well.

Strange Tigers (Yihu)

Along the Jialing River, in the area of Jianzhou, Yongguei, Jiameng, Jianmen, and Yichang, there lived a woman of about fifty who called herself "Eighteenth Aunt" (Shiba Yi). She often visited people's homes and neither ate nor drank. Each time, she admonished them: "Only do good deeds, and do not go against the principles of the gods. The family should live in harmony, and filial devotion to parents is most important. If anyone does wrong, I will often send three or five cats to inspect you." After speaking, she would leave, and sometimes she vanished suddenly. About three to five times a year, someone would meet her. The common people, having heard that she was a tiger who had transformed into human form, held her in awe.

Jiyang Zhi (a Daoist monastery or administrative center) lay about thirty li south of Fuzhou, upstream along the Qian River. There stood a divine image and an ancient stele, and its estates were extensive, so people did not dare to encroach upon them. The younger sister of Lan Tingyong, a deputy military official of Fuzhou, passed through Huazhong (a Daoist temple) and stole communal property (shared possessions kept in a monastery for the daily use of its practitioners). She promptly lost her way and before long turned into a tiger. The silver and gold bracelets that she had worn on her forelegs remained clearly visible. Whenever she met villagers, she would speak to them from behind a tree: "I stole from Huazhong, and that is why I have become this. Please tell my mother that I wish to see her." Her mother was afraid and dared not approach. The tiger roamed outside the city for a year, and then gradually departed.

Strange Turtles (Extraordinary Turtles)

Emperor Ming of Tang was once presented with a small tortoise by a diviner-adept (fangshi). It was about an inch in diameter, golden all over, and quite charming. The adept claimed it was highly spiritual: it ate nothing, and if kept by one's pillow or in a chest, it could ward off the poison of great serpents. The emperor stored it in the box where he kept his towels and kerchiefs.

Later, a junior palace attendant (xiao huangmen), who was then in the emperor's favor, was about to be exiled to the remote Hui region in the south because of the misdeeds of his relatives. The emperor was unwilling to set aside the law and pardon him, so he secretly gave him the tortoise, instructing him: "In the distant southern lands there are many great serpents. Keep the tortoise close at hand, and you will be spared their harm." The attendant bowed in thanks and carried the tortoise on his person.

When he reached a county town near Xiang Commandery, the markets and post stations were deserted, yet the inn where he lodged had food, lamps, candles, and daily necessities all in full supply. That night the moonlight was as bright as day, and from a distance came a sound like wind and rain, growing steadily closer. He took out the golden tortoise and set it on the steps. After a while, the divine tortoise stretched out its neck and exhaled; its body swelled to the size of a boat and rose upright to three or four feet. Then it slowly shrank back to its ordinary form, and the sound of wind and rain vanished with it.

At dawn, the post officials came one after another and knelt in rows in the courtyard, saying: "Yesterday we learned that an imperial envoy was coming, and we should have prepared a proper reception. Unfortunately, someone killed a snake by mistake. Everyone knows that snakes take revenge, and we feared it would surely come at night to harm people. The local residents have all fled some thirty or fifty li away to escape the venom. We dared not go far, and only hid in the caves of the nearby mountains to wait for daylight. That you are now safe is due to the protection of the spirits; it is certainly beyond what human strength could accomplish."

After some time, travelers on the road gradually returned and reported that more than a dozen great serpents lay rotting by the roadside. From then on, no snake came to take revenge, and the people could not understand the reason. A year later, the attendant was summoned back to Chang'an and presented the golden tortoise to the emperor once more. Weeping, he expressed his gratitude: "My life was preserved entirely by this tortoise. The people of the south have since been forever freed from such venomous serpents, and countless lives have been saved. This truly reflects the reach of Your Majesty's virtue, and the power of the divine tortoise."

In the third year of the Wucheng era (the year gengwu), on the fifth day of the sixth month, a guihai day, Meng Yanhui, Prefect of Guanghan, memorialized the court to report that a golden tortoise no bigger than an inch was swimming on a lotus leaf in the West Lake district. He had the creature sketched and presented the drawing to the court.

A merchant moored his boat on the bank of the Bian River and caught a large tortoise, which he placed in the hearth to roast. That night he forgot to take it out, and when he checked the next day, its shell had been baked dry. He brushed away the ashes, set the tortoise on the dining table, and intended to eat it with his meal. After a long while, the tortoise stretched out its neck and moved its four legs, crawling slowly across the table as if it were alive as usual. Everyone found this strange, and they returned it to the water. It swam away.

On the western bank of Caishi Mountain, downstream from Xuanzhou, lies Xiliang Mountain, which faces Dongliang Mountain across the water. The residents of the Xiliang area made their living by catching tortoises, stripping the shells from living animals to sell as materials for divination. Once the shell had been removed, the flesh and the shell were tossed into the water together, yet the tortoise could still move about. Some said that the shells would grow back, so the tortoises were harvested year after year and the shells were sold every day, in quantities beyond counting. Yet the tortoises of the mountain were never exhausted. All the tortoises used for divination in the realm came from this place, and people did not know the reason.

In the third year of the Wude era of Emperor Gaozu of the Tang, Laojun, the Venerable Lord Lao (a Daoist honorific for Taishang Laojun), appeared on Yangjiao Mountain. The Prince of Qin sent Ji Shanxing to the court to report this. Ji Shanxing said to Laojun that the journey to the capital was not easy and that he had no proof to show the matter was true. Laojun replied, "When you reach the capital, someone will present a tortoise-shaped stone, and that will serve as your proof." When Ji Shanxing arrived at the palace gate, someone indeed presented a stone shaped like a tortoise from Shaozhou, and beneath it were carved six characters: "The realm is at peace for ten thousand days."

At the end of the Wude era, Taizong pacified the internal rebellion. In a pond within the palace gardens, a white tortoise swam among the lotus leaves.

Strange Turtles

In the late Wude era, when Emperor Taizong was putting down internal rebellion, a white turtle was seen swimming among the lotus leaves in a pond in the palace gardens. Taizong caught it, and it turned into a white stone, lustrous and pure like jade. After he ascended the throne, he issued an edict saying, "Heaven watched over and blessed us, bestowing upon me a treasured turtle."

In the dingmao year in Shu, someone found a turtle in a cave on the bank of the moat by the Huichang Temple city, where it had laid four young turtles, each only two or three cun long. On their backs were golden markings: the character "wang" (king) and the words "Da Ji" (great auspiciousness).

The ruler of Shu was born on the fifteenth day of the seventh month in the first year of the Qiande era (jimao year), on a Gengchen day, and this date was made the Guangsheng Festival. Wang Yanhui, a garrison commander of Pengkou Town, obtained a white turtle in the Palace of Master Luo and presented it to the court. In the first year of the Taishi era of the Western Jin, a divine turtle also appeared in Changsha County. It was entirely snow-white, four or five chi long, and it emerged from the water and walked along the bank, so the place came to be called Turtle Pond. Below Turtle Pond lay more than a hundred qing of fertile farmland.

Strange Giant Turtles (Yi Yuan)

The yuan, a large freshwater turtle, resembles the ao. Those with red bellies are called yuan, and those with white bellies are called ao. Folk belief holds that the yuan has twelve special pieces of flesh on its body. When fishermen catch a yuan, they fear it may injure them, so they first subdue it with a hooked tool and then chop it apart with a long-handled axe. Even when it has been hacked to pieces, the fragments, as long as they have not yet been put into the pot, will jump according to their size. Although ao and yuan may grow very large, they are harmed as if bitten by mosquitoes, and they die within a night.

Once, someone caught a giant ao in the Shu River, larger than usual, more than a chi long, with vermilion-red edges on its shell. They put it in a pot and boiled it through the night, yet it still moved about as usual. They added more fire and boiled it through the day until the water had boiled away, but the ao still did not die. The whole family was astonished and frightened, believing it to be a dragon, so they released it back into the river. It swam away on the surface of the water and was never seen again.

Strange Snakes (Yi She)

In the Jianli region there is a kind of snake, three chi long and as thick as a jar, and the small ones are still as thick as a pillar. It has a rabbit's head and a snake's body, with white markings under its throat, and it often comes out to injure people. It coils down from the mountains and attacks travelers, always slipping under their armpits to drink their blood. It is called "banbi," and it usually hides in caves, showing only a bit of its nose as it breathes. Its breath sounds like the lowing of an ox, audible for several li away, and those who hear it feel the ground tremble. In winter, when the people burn their fields, they sometimes burn these snakes to death, but their fat is abundant.

In the Qianfu era, a black giant serpent more than thirty zhang tall appeared at Shenxian Post Station. Around it were many smaller snakes, some as thick as rafters or pillars, and others as large as jars holding ten or five shi. They followed it by the hundreds and thousands, traveling in droves from east to west. People began to see them before the chenshi hour, the time roughly between seven and nine in the morning, but the last of them did not pass until the youshi hour, roughly between five and seven in the evening, and no one knew how many li the column stretched. Near the tail of the procession, a child holding a red banner stood on the tail of a snake, leaping and waving as the column went by. That same year, Yang Shouliang, the Military Governor of Shannan, was defeated in battle.

In the South Sea there is a mountain several tens of li high and a hundred li in circumference. Every summer, a giant snake wrapped three or four times around the mountain and drank seawater, and this happened every year. One day, as it was drinking the seawater, another great snake rose from the sea and swallowed it. Heaven and earth grew dark at once, and only after a long time did the light return.

Beneath Mount Kuaiji there is a kind of snake called the "jiguan she," or "Cockscomb Snake." Its head is shaped like a rooster's, with a crest on top, and its body is a little over one chi long and several cun thick. Anyone bitten by it dies.

There is also a snake called the "baoshen she," or "Burst-Body Snake," which is one or two chi long and gray in color. When it hears the sound of someone walking, it flies out from the forest in the shape of a dead branch and strikes the person sideways. Everyone it hits dies.

The Huang-han snake is one to two chi long and golden in color, and it lives in rock crevices. Before rain, it gives a cry like a cow's lowing. If it bites a person, that person will die. Mount Siming has such snakes.

A commoner in Pi County caught a small snake, over a chi long, by an irrigation canal outside the south wall of the city. He slit open its belly, removed its entrails, coiled the body, and skewered it on a bamboo stick to roast over a fire. A few days later, his young child, several years old, suddenly broke out in red swelling over the whole body. The skin grew so hot that it split, and the child moaned in agony without stop. The child also said, "Your family killed me for no reason, cut open my intestines and stomach, and roasted me over the fire. Now let your child taste this same pain too." The family was greatly astonished. They pulled the bamboo skewers from the snake's body, poured water over it, burned incense, and prayed to the snake, apologizing, before returning it to where it had been found. After a long time, the snake slithered away, and the family's child recovered.

Strange Fish

In the South Sea there is a mountain several thousand chi high. Two peaks stand more than ten li apart, and giant fish fight between them. The crest-like protrusions and fins on their bodies catch on the mountainside, and their collisions are strong enough to bring the mountain down in ruin.

A man surnamed Hou in Pi County caught a chan fish beside a hemp-retting pond. The fish was about a chi thick. He boiled it and ate it, and his white hair turned black, his fallen teeth grew back, and from then on his body felt light and vigorous.

In the early Tianfu era, Feng Xingxi, serving as Palace Attendant and governor with military authority over Xunyang County in Jinzhou, was informed that a commoner named Wu Junhuai of Yongnan Township had caught a fish several chi long in the Lemo Pool of the Han River. Writing appeared on the fish's body: "Three times it crossed the sea, twice it ascended the Han River. Arriving at Lemo, it was fated to belong to Wu Junhuai."

When the former Jinshi Cui Dao served as Palace Attendant and governor over Xunyang County in Jinzhou, the same commoner, Wu Junhuai of Yongnan Township, caught a fish several chi long in the Lemo Pool of the Han River. Writing appeared on its body: "Three times it crossed the sea, twice it ascended the Han River. Arriving at Lemo, it was fated to belong to Wu Junhuai."

Former jinshi (a degree holder of the imperial examinations) Cui Daoji, who had traveled around the Jianghuai region, drank until he was completely drunk and fell asleep in a guesthouse. His servant went to the well to draw water and found a fish that had come up along with the bucket, so he brought it to show Cui Daoji. Pleased, Cui Daoji said, "Fish broth is very good for dispelling the effects of wine. Cook it quickly." Soon after he had eaten the broth, an envoy in yellow robes descended from the sky and stood in the courtyard, calling Cui Daoji's name over and over and sending men to seize him. The envoy read out the heavenly decree: "Cui Daoji is a common subject of the lower realm who dared to kill a dragon's son. His official rank, which should have reached chancellor, and his lifespan, which should have reached seventy years, are now to be stripped away." Having spoken, the envoy ascended back into the sky. That very night Cui Daoji died suddenly, at only thirty-five years of age.

The chang fish (chang yu, a kind of fish) is shaped like the character ti, meaning "body," with red markings on its body, and grows to more than a foot long. Fish of this kind are found in the Yuzhang region. Most live in muddy ponds, sometimes gathering in groups of several hundred. Scriptures say they cause mischief, transforming into ghosts and monsters that delude people and also delude the human mind. People dare not farm the fields near these muddy ponds. Those who offer sacrifices to the fish and rent the land at a higher price will reap good harvests, but they must conceal their names and leave after farming for three years in order to be spared their harm. If someone is harmed by them, it is said that their faces become distorted and their hands and feet reversed, and they can escape only after praying to the fish and offering apology.

At night the fish can also move about on land, leaving muddy footprints where they pass, and when they draw near, one can hear a sound like "sou sou." The Twenty-Five Great Generals of the Northern Emperor (Beidi, a group of divine generals in the Daoist spirit-general system) are associated with a talisman (fulu) called "Po Quan Kui" (Break-the-Spring Chief). If the talisman is written on bricks or stones and thrown into the pond, or written on wooden boards and nailed to the pond's edge, it is said the fish can be driven away. However, the method must be carried out during wind, rain, or thunder and lightning, using those forces to move the fish elsewhere. The scriptures state that only those who understand this technique may perform it.

The tetraodon (also called the river pufferfish, marked with tiger-like stripes) was traditionally believed to be fatal if not thoroughly cooked, and the world long accepted this claim as settled fact.

In Raozhou there was a man named Haosheng. His household was prosperous, and so was his wife's family. The couple were harmonious and never quarreled. One day Haosheng came home drunk and collapsed onto the bed. His wife straightened his clothes, removed his shoes, and lifted his feet. In his drunkenness Haosheng moved without thinking, and his foot accidentally kicked his wife in the chest. She fell to the ground and died at once. Haosheng knew nothing of this, yet her family pressed him and accused him of beating her to death. The lawsuit dragged on for years. The prefectural and county officials could not reach a verdict and so referred the matter upward. Haosheng was held in prison to await sentencing.

Fearing that, once the imperial decree arrived, Haosheng would suffer severe punishment and bring shame upon the entire clan, his relatives sent food to the jailers. They also painted a pufferfish and hoped to lure him into eating it in prison, so that he would die. Haosheng ate it and was unharmed. This happened several times, and the pufferfish never harmed him. Instead, he grew stronger. Later, an imperial amnesty was declared, and Haosheng was released and returned home. His descendants prospered thereafter. He lived to the age of eighty and died peacefully in his bed.

The tradition says that an undercooked pufferfish can kill a person, yet Haosheng ate it raw several times and still suffered no harm. This is perhaps a matter of fate.

End of Record of Marvels (Lu Yi Ji), Volume Five

Record of Marvels (Lu Yi Ji), Volume Six

Compiled by Du Guangting (Dù Guāngtíng), Grand Master of Splendid Rank (Guanglu Dafu), Vice Minister of the Board of Revenue (Hubu Shilang) of the Department of State Affairs, Master Guangcheng, Pillar of the State, Duke of Cai, your servant

Dong

Ding Mountain (Dingling) lies north of Fuping County in Chang'an, and its back side leads to Guanxiang. Walking into the valley for more than twenty li, one reaches two caves, called the East Nüxue (Female Study) and the West Nüxue.

The cliff face of the East Nüxue is steep and precipitous, and its cave mouth opens in the middle of the rock wall, beyond the reach of anyone trying to climb to it. At night one often hears the sound of reading voices coming from within the cave. The West Nüxue can be approached along a mountain path to the vicinity of its entrance, where beside the door stands a stone chamber able to hold a dozen or twenty people. The cave mouth is sometimes left open, and people may enter with candles. After walking ten to twenty-odd li, one finds five doors on either side, each bearing an inscription; some of these inscriptions say that they lead to Penglai and to various immortal realms. In recent years, falling rocks have blocked the entrance, and it is no longer possible to enter.

On the mountaintop there is another tianjing (a natural vertical shaft), about two zhang deep, with a natural stone crossbeam projecting from its side. Beneath it is a further vertical shaft, more than two zhang deep, through which a person can pass. On one side of the shaft's bottom is a cliffside niche; a stone stairway winds upward from it, and the space inside is spacious. The niche holds tens of thousands of Daoist scriptures, all placed on wutong-wood plank beds. There is also a stone figure seated with its head bowed, leaning against something, its appearance like that of a living person. At the bottom of the tianjing lie bamboo and wooden slips deposited by members of the Daoist community, now completely rotted, and too numerous to count.

During the Dashun era, Xu Qi, a Daoist devotee from Fuping, once took the Yangsheng Jing (Scripture on Nourishing Life) out of the cave, carried it outside to be copied, and after the copying was finished, returned it to the cave.

Continuing north for more than twenty li, one comes to three springs. In the valley there is a shiqian (a recessed stone grotto formed in a cliff face) that can hold two or three hundred people. Within the valley stand three stone basins, each more than one zhang across, smooth and regular in shape, and not appearing to have been chiseled by human hands. Water wells up from the three basins, which remain brimming throughout the year, and the surplus flows out of the mountain. The old folk say that immortals often bathe in these stone basins. Presumably, anyone who offends this mountain will at once meet with thunder, lightning, and hail, and the crops will be damaged as well; for this reason, villagers mostly keep their movements hidden, making the place hard to visit. The mountain holds many traces of immortals.

In front of the East Nüxue dwells a nest of divine roc-like birds (shenpeng), which constantly guard the cave entrance. Should anyone offend them, they attack, and the person is killed instantly. In ancient times, a Daoist carved five stone figures on the mountain. Once, a farmer hoeing his field was startled by the divine birds and fled to take shelter beneath the stone figures, setting his bamboo hat on the head of one of them. The birds then struck down that figure's head; even today, one can still see this headless stone figure there.

At the foot of the mountain, in Guanxiang, many families bear the surname Gongsun; in Shibao Village on Jia Mountain, most families are surnamed Wen or Ma.

Magu Cave (Mágǔ Dòng) on Mount Fanyang is another name for Yangping (Yángpíng), the first of the Twenty-Four Transformations (Èrshísì Huà), the twenty-four sites where Daoist tradition holds that perfected immortals manifested. It lies on the north bank of the Fan River, from which it takes its name. The Scripture of the Original Boundary (Běnjì Jīng) records that the village of Shibao on the mountain had many families surnamed Wen and Ma.

The same scripture says that this was a place visited by the Celestial Master (Tiānshī) Zhang Daoling, and where Taishang (Tàishàng), the Daoist honorific for the Dao, expounded the scriptures. Magu Cave lies south of Xindu County in Chengdu Prefecture. Crossing the river and going fifteen li brings one to a range of interconnected mountains, where a solitary peak rises prominently.

In the second year of the Guanghua era (jǐwèi year) under Emperor Shenwu, on the fourth day of the fifth month, the day bingshen, the mountain face collapsed and the cave entrance revealed itself. The county clerk Yang Jing, a township functionary, the Daoist Zhang Shouzhen, and others reported the matter to the prefectural office. The report stated that after the entrance opened, common people came and went every day. The prefectural office dispatched the county official Yang Ze and the painter Ren Cong, who went with Zhang Shouzhen to inspect the site and make drawings.

They lit lamps and entered the cave to examine it. The first doorway faced north, two chi high and three chi five cun wide. About five chi further in was a second doorway, one chi six cun square. Beyond it lay darkness, twelve chi long and six chi wide. On the east side were two stone chambers, and in the southwest direction were two further passages.

One passage on the south side was circular, one chi six cun in width. Once inside, the cave measured twelve chi long, ten chi wide, and four chi high. On the south side was darkness, twelve chi long and six chi wide. On the east side were two stone chambers, and in the southwest direction two more passages. There were three stone chambers on the south side.

On the west side were two passages that connected internally. The passages were circular, seventeen chi wide, and each interior was about five chi wide and six chi high. The two doorways were ten chi apart, and between them stood a gatehouse, five chi high and four chi wide.

Inside the cave one could see carved forms of dougong (bracket sets, the components that support the eaves of traditional architecture) and ou tiles (curved roof tiles), all sculpted from the mountain rock. Characters for "sun" and "moon" were also carved. There was another partitioned chamber, two chi five cun wide and one chi five cun high. Carved on the stone were dougong, ou tiles, and ao, legendary sea-turtle-like ornaments. One of these measured one chi high and one chi five cun wide, with a doorway five cun wide. There were three more stone chambers, each seven chi wide.

Proceeding further west, one enters a circular doorway, one chi seven cun wide, which winds through to a south gate. Within is a room six chi high and four chi wide. Along the passage at the rear are carved dougong and ou tiles, along with two ao-shaped carvings set on a single base, one chi high and two chi three cun wide. The doorway is eight chi wide and also bears carved dougong.

At the northwest corner is another square doorway, one chi six cun wide, with an interior space of roughly two zhang square. On the south, west, and north sides are sections each one chi high and two chi three cun wide. The doorway is eight chi wide and also bears carved dougong. Also at the northwest corner is another square doorway, one chi six cun wide, with an interior space of roughly two zhang square.