《跨天虹》

Kua Tian Hong is a work compiled by a Qing-dynasty scholar identified as Jiulin Doushan. Its content largely concerns tales of gods and demons and the retribution of karma. Chapters three through five survive and are held by the Institute of Opera Studies of the Chinese National Academy of Arts. The compiler's identity has not yet been verified.

The surviving table of contents lists, for chapter three, "The Handsome Gentleman, the Ghostly Matchmaker, and the Wedding Cup" and "The Plain Maiden Who Thrice Completed Her Marriage." For chapter four, it lists "Chang'e Meets Disaster in the Moon Palace" and "Casting a Divine Spell Turns Illusion into Reality." For chapter five, it lists "A Fairy Mirror Chance-Links Unlikely Lovers" and "The Blind Boy Winds Through Hardships to Clear a Strange Injustice."

The surviving text of the second story in chapter three reads: "[Preceding text missing] He walked out of the room, passed around the courtyard, and saw Lady Qu and Pu Yi's wife standing there in a daze. Youshēng saw…"

The friend left the room, went around the courtyard, and saw Mrs. Qu and Pu Yi's wife standing there in a daze. Startled, he hurried back to the study and lay down to sleep. Mrs. Qu and Pu Yi's wife took Zhaoyun back to their room and asked her, "What did the son-in-law say?" Zhaoyun dared not conceal anything and told them the whole truth from beginning to end.

Pu Yi's wife was so angry that she beat her chest and stamped her feet. "What's the big deal about this?" she wailed. "He has ruined a daughter of mine!" Mrs. Qu demanded of Zhaoyun, "I told you just now that when the time came you should cry out. Why didn't you make a single sound?" Zhaoyun replied, "I did mean to cry out, but the son-in-law stopped my mouth with his tongue, so I couldn't make a sound at the time."

Just then Xiaochuan came over and asked what had happened. Mrs. Qu repeated Zhaoyun's account to him. Xiaochuan said, "If that is so, she is probably not a foolish woman of the household. I will go and talk with her tomorrow." Mrs. Qu said, "The fault is ours; what has it to do with him? But by the sixth day, he must take part in the wedding rite (the ceremony of the flower candles). If he still refuses, we must deal with him properly before this anger can be eased." The others grumbled for a while longer, then each went off to sleep.

Youshen stayed on for several days for Zhaoyun's sake. Each evening after dusk he would wait until the second or third watch of the night before he went to bed. He thought to himself: "If Zhaoyun and I meet in secret and her parents find out, they will certainly be furious with me. But if they don't know, why has she suddenly stopped coming? This is suspicious. I will ask her privately tomorrow, so that I can set my mind at ease."

The next afternoon, Zhaoyun was seen standing alone by the side gate. When Youshen saw that no one else was nearby, he walked over to her and asked, "Sister Zhaoyun, why have you stopped bringing tea in the evenings?" Zhaoyun replied, "My mother has already found out. If this goes on, I will not even be able to keep my dowry." Hearing these two sentences, Youshen felt a sharp pain in his heart. He smiled bitterly and said, "So this is how our fate turns out. Why does destiny treat us so unkindly!"

That same day he returned to his room and lay down, thinking, "I can no longer hesitate. I will go home tomorrow. If I delay any longer, I am afraid I will fall into a trap set by her family. Of all the courses open to me, escape is the best." At the fifth watch, he dressed, left his room, quietly slipped toward the back gate, and fled.

When he reached home, his parents had not yet risen. He went into his room, packed his bedding and silver, and had his servant Qinsi carry the luggage. Without even bidding his parents farewell, he hired a small boat and set off for Wangzhou. Let us set this matter aside for now.

Xiaochuan rose early and sent Pu Yi to fetch the cook and arrange the opera. The household was busy with preparations, and the house was full of noise and bustle. After the servants had been at work for a while, Pu Yi's wife came hurrying in in a panic, crying, "There was a thief last night!" The back door stood open. Everyone took stock of the household's belongings, but nothing appeared to be missing. Only after searching everywhere, front and back, did they discover that one son-in-law was gone from the study. Pu Yi hurried to report the matter to Xiaochuan.

Xiaochuan realized that the man had run back home, so he had Pu Yi go and invite him again. When Pu Yi arrived at the Lu household and saw Tiancheng, he said, "My master has asked me to send his regards to the gentleman. Today we would like the son-in-law to come back and repeat the wedding ceremony, so he sent me especially to invite him." Tiancheng replied, "Ever since he went to your house that day, he has not come home."

At that moment, the old gatekeeper came in and said to Tiancheng, "The young master knocked on the door before dawn, and had Qin Si carry his luggage. I don't know where they went." Tiancheng then passed these words on to Pu Yi. Pu Yi accepted the instructions, left, and returned to report back to Xiaochuan. When the others heard the news, they were all deeply disappointed and furious.

Youseng traveled on for some distance and reached Hangzhou, where the scenery of West Lake delighted him. He lingered there for many days, reluctant to leave, but worried that his parents might send someone to look for him. He therefore resolved to go far away, and crossed the Yangtze River.

He climbed over mountains and through valleys, travelling for half a month until he reached Jiangxi, where he took a room at an inn. He felt he had come far enough and had no need to go any further. He intended to find a place to settle down and devote himself to his studies.

At that time, another guest walked into the inn to lodge for the night. Because he had arrived late and there were no empty rooms, the innkeeper arranged for him to share a room with Youseng. The two exchanged bows in greeting. Youseng asked him his name and where he was from. The man replied that his name was Yan Zhen and that he lived in Wumen (the area around Suzhou). Youseng gave his own name and native place in turn, and the two discovered that they were fellow natives of the same region.

Youseng asked Yan Zhen what brought him here. Yan Zhen said, "My elder brother, Yan Yue, currently serves as Prefect of Ji'an (the local chief official of Ji'an). His office lacks a muyin (a private secretary who assists officials with documents and administrative affairs), so he specially sent me back to our home region to recruit one, and that is why I have come here. And what business brings you here?"

Youseng answered, "I have a friend who serves as magistrate of Jishui, and he specially invited me to take up a post as his secretary. Unfortunately, on the way I heard that his family had suffered a bereavement, and he had already left office to return home and observe the mourning period. That is why I have been held up here."

Yan Zhen then asked whether he would be willing to take a post in his brother's office. Youseng modestly replied that his learning was shallow and that he feared he would not be equal to the task. Yan Zhen saw that his manner was gentle and refined and his bearing outstanding, and he judged that Youseng must be a man of learning. He wished to invite him to travel together with him, so that Youseng would not have to first return to his home region, saving the trouble of a round trip.

Yan Zhen then asked the innkeeper to prepare a jug of wine and several dishes. The two drank and talked together, growing very congenial, and soon became close friends. The next day, Yan Zhen settled Youseng's board bill for him, and the two hired a sedan chair and a horse and set off together for Ji'an.

After Zhaoyun parted from Lu Yousheng, she thought of him day and night and fell ill with grief for a year. Her face, once as delicate as powdered jade, had grown so thin that she looked like a skeleton. She took medicine, prayed, and made offerings to the gods, but nothing helped. As she neared death, she told her mother, "I fear I will not recover. There is a handkerchief with a poem written on it in the chest. Please be sure to bring it to me." Pu Yi and his wife hurried to search the chest, found the handkerchief, and gave it to their daughter. When Zhaoyun saw it, her grief deepened at once, and she soon closed her eyes and died. Her death was almost no different from Qiaoqiao's.

The souls of both women, however, refused to let Lu Yousheng go. Their spirits did not dissipate. In the underworld (yinjian) they happened to meet Qiaoqiao. All three had been wronged by Lu Yousheng, so they knelt together before King Yama (Yanwang), weeping as they accused him of being heartless and faithless, and they begged to return to the world of the living (yangjian) to be reunited with him.

King Yama consulted the register of marriage destinies (yinyuan bu) and declared that Lu Shishan's bonds with Qiaoqiao and Zhaoyun had already run out and could not be renewed. He also discovered that Lu Shishan should have passed the civil service examinations (keju) in his youth, but because he had abandoned his wife without cause, he angered Heaven, which stripped him of his degree and his future career. Hearing this, the two women collapsed to the ground in tears.

King Yama said, "Your allotted lifespans have not yet run out, but since you have already left your bodies, you cannot be restored to life. For now, you shall remain as wandering spirits (youhun) with no place to return to, drifting through the human world until your lifespans would have ended. Then you will be dealt with." The two women turned into shadows on the wind, left the underworld, and set out for Ji'an Prefecture.

Keju refers to degrees earned through the imperial civil service examinations. Yinyuan bu, the register of marriage destinies, is a legendary ledger said to record the marital fates of people in the human world. Youhun refers to souls that have left the body and wander through the human world.

Enmities between foes are sown in a former life, and foes of the next life also take shape in this one.

Let us set this aside for now.

Pu Xiaochuan had been raising this daughter and had suffered much vexation over her. After her son-in-law fled the house, he vanished without a word, leaving his wife in the care of the Pu family. If she were to remarry, and the son-in-law were to return, more trouble would surely follow. Pu Xiaochuan and Madame Qu were going back and forth over the matter, unable to decide, when they suddenly heard that Zhaoyun had died.

Xiaochuan said, "Why not mourn Zhaoyun as our daughter, so long as the Lu family can be kept from learning the truth?" Madame Qu asked, "If we do that, where will Daqiao be placed?" Xiaochuan replied, "I have a cousin named Kong Fang, who once received three thousand in capital from me and opened a food shop in Ji'an Prefecture. We could send her to his household to stay, and once the storm has passed, find her another match. Would that not be proper?" Madame Qu said, "But she has grown up at my side since childhood. How could I bear to send her so far away?" Xiaochuan said, "Things have come to this. There is no other way."

And so he told Pu Yi and his wife of the plan. Pu Yi also thought the arrangement would save trouble. He sent word to the Lu family that the eldest daughter had died, and carried out the funeral according to proper ritual.

Lu Tiancheng and his wife came to pay their respects, and both believed that the eldest daughter had truly died. How pitiful Zhaoyun was: while alive she had to stand in for another, and even in death she was still made to stand in for another.

When the seventh-seven period had passed, the forty-ninth day after a death, when the final rites of mourning were completed, Pu Xiaochuan sent his steward Pu Zhong and his wife to prepare travel money and luggage and escort Daqiao to the Kong household. Pu Zhong went ahead to deliver a letter. On reading it, Kong Fang called his niece inside, had her pay her respects, and then prepared a room for her to live in.

Kong Fang then engaged a matchmaker to look for a husband for her. But Daqiao met with rebuff at every turn. The matchmaker proposed some forty or fifty families in succession, and not one was willing to agree. Several years passed, and still no household would take her as a wife. The matchmaker gradually lost interest, and Daqiao's own desire to marry slowly faded.

As the saying goes:

Lu Yousheng spent five years as a private secretary (muyin) in Yan Yue's household, assisting with official affairs, and in that time he saved a considerable sum of money. He then changed his name to Yan Yu, followed Yan Yue to his new post, and continued his studies.

One day, the court issued an order summoning Lord Yan to the capital. Lord Yan wanted to take Yousheng along, but Yousheng thought to himself: "I have not returned home to sit for the examinations in many years, and my licentiate (xiucai) status has been left idle far too long. If I go back now, will I not lose on both fronts? It would be better to wait two more years, first pass the provincial examination, then take a beautiful wife and return home in glory. Killing two birds with one stone would be far better."

And so Yousheng wrote a letter, entrusted it to Lord Yan to take back, and rented a room in a private house, where he devoted himself wholeheartedly to his studies.

It happened to be the seventh day of the seventh month, when every household was begging for skill and threading needles in prayer. Yousheng thought: "Today is Qiaoqiao's birthday. If I were at home, I would surely raise a cup with her to celebrate. Now that we are separated by distance, even wishing to see her is too late." He could not hold back his tears, and at once he composed a seven-character regulated verse:

Two places, each shedding tears of longing,

Across the sky, the Herd Boy star sits in vain, its legend passed down.

The Celestial Maiden's resentment, spanning a thousand years, cannot be dissolved;

How could the sorrow of the immortal maiden on Qixi ever be dispelled?

In the embroidered chamber, the affection of days past remains vivid in the heart;

Before the ornate window, the moonlight and the breeze stir up endless longing.

Mount Wu lies far beyond the Milky Way,

And in the human world, only the sorrow of Song Yu remains.

Just as he finished, the sound of a door creaking open reached his ears, and he could not tell who had come in. How the matter unfolded, the next passage will explain.

Yousheng heard the door open and looked up to see a woman of about thirty. He rose and bowed, asking which household she belonged to and why she had come. The woman gave her surname as Wei and said she had presumed to call on him in order to act as a matchmaker on his behalf.

Yousheng thanked Madam Wei for her kindness and said his mind was already made up: he would take no one but a woman of both beauty and talent. Madam Wei replied that she had never once delayed anyone's marriage through her matchmaking, and that the young lady in question had come of age and was remarkably lovely. If Yousheng succeeded in this match, she asked, how would he repay her? Yousheng agreed that, if her words proved true, he would reward her handsomely. Madam Wei smiled, rose, and took her leave. When Yousheng asked where she lived, she said it was beneath the third memorial archway at the east end of the main street, and then she departed.

Madam Wei next went to the Kong household to arrange a match for Daqiao. Mrs. Kong said that several dozen families had already come to propose, none of whom had satisfied her, which was why the marriage had been put off until now. She added that the man Madam Wei had introduced must surely be a good one. Madam Wei replied that Master Yan was strikingly handsome and was a scholar of wide learning in the present age. When Old Kong learned that Master Yan served as a private secretary to the taizun (the prefect), he reasoned that such a man must have considerable influence, and he agreed to the match.

One day later, Yousheng went to see Madam Wei and said, "Yesterday you told me about her, but I must see this young woman with my own eyes before I can feel at ease." Madam Wei replied, "Very well." She then brought him to a large household, asked him to wait in the hall, and went inside.

They had been seated for about as long as it takes to drink a cup of tea when two maidservants came out, supporting a young woman whose steps were light and whose bearing was graceful. She came to the front of the hall, bowed to Yousheng, and stood there for a while before turning to follow Madam Wei into the inner room. Seeing her, Yousheng felt a deep sense of delight and contentment. He watched her pass through the middle gate and only then turned his eyes away.

At that moment, Yousheng noticed a sweat towel (a cloth used to wipe away perspiration) lying on the ground. He picked it up, afraid that someone would see him, and without time to examine it closely, tucked it into his sleeve. When Madam Wei came out, Yousheng rose and, as they walked, asked her, "Is this young lady to your liking?" Delighted, he said, "She is truly an outstanding person. But how much will the bride price be?" Madam Wei answered, "Her family does not insist on a bride price. They only hope that the groom will move into their household as a live-in son-in-law." Yousheng said, "That is acceptable." He then took leave of Madam Wei, chose an auspicious day, and sent the betrothal gifts and arranged the wedding.

Arriving at the auspicious day, Youseng dressed carefully, and the bridal escort had also arrived. Youseng was carried in a sedan chair to the Kong household. After the heqin rite (the ceremony in which the newlyweds share a cup of wine) was completed, Wei Niang took her leave. Youseng entered the bridal chamber, saw the bride, and was deeply astonished. He thought to himself, "How is she unlike the woman I was shown a few days ago? There must be a reason for this."

He hurried to pull the bride toward him and looked at her closely, and at once he was so furious that he stamped his feet and shouted, "Where did this freak come from! The woman I was shown the other day was seventeen or eighteen years old and of outstanding beauty. You have switched her for someone else to deceive me, and I am going to take this to the magistrate!"

Kong Fang heard the commotion in the room and hurried over to ask what was happening. Upon hearing Youseng's words, he said, "When has my daughter ever been presented for inspection? What are you talking about?"

Youseng replied, "I went with the matchmaker, Madame Wei. Two maidservants helped a woman out, and she was as lovely as a flower and as fair as jade. She was nothing like the person standing here!"

Old Kong said, "Have you perhaps seen a ghost? Who ever showed you a woman as lovely as a flower?"

Youseng said, "How can that be possible! On the day of the meeting, that woman dropped a handkerchief (a cloth used for wiping perspiration). I picked it up and kept it, and I will show it to you now." He hurriedly took a handkerchief out of a trunk and handed it to Old Kong.

Old Kong took the handkerchief and looked at it. There were tiny characters written on it. Youseng took it back, examined it closely, and read it aloud once. Astonished, he said, "How strange! This is the handkerchief I gave to Zhaoyun. How did it end up with that woman? If we simply ask the matchmaker, we can find out what really happened." He asked Old Kong to go with him to find the matchmaker. Old Kong, finding his account so peculiar, also wished to seek out the matchmaker and get to the bottom of it.

The two men walked out of the gate in a daze and came to the third archway, where they found only an empty lot. There was no house at all, and the matchmaker was nowhere to be seen. They stood staring at the open ground for a long while, repeating, "How strange! How strange!" When they asked the people nearby, everyone said there had never been a matchmaker named Wei there, and that the lot had been used as a site for examining corpses ten years earlier, which was why no one had ever dared to build on it. The father-in-law and son-in-law looked at each other, unable to make sense of any of it. They went home downcast and told the family what had happened, and the household found it just as bewildering.

Youshen sat alone in his room, turning the handkerchief over and over for a long time, but he still could not make anything of it, so he set it aside for the moment. Yet now that he had taken this woman as his wife, he found himself in a difficult bind, unable to move forward or step back.

Youheng sat in his room, turning the handkerchief over and over for a long while, but he still could not make sense of it. He finally gave up thinking about it and set it aside. Now that he had married this woman, though, he was caught in a dilemma, and the only way out seemed to be another escape. He stayed awake all night and, at the fifth watch (just before dawn), opened the door and fled. Unfortunately, the innkeeper's attendant saw him and reported it to Old Kong. Kong immediately sent three or four servant boys to chase him. Halfway along the road they caught up with Youheng and dragged him back.

Old Kong and his wife were furious. They said to Youheng, "Things have already reached this point. Why did you leave without a word? Would you abandon my daughter and let her carry this regret for the rest of her life? Is this what a gentleman should do?" Youheng hung his head and did not answer.

Old Kong knew that when Da Qiao first married, her husband had also run away. Now that this husband was about to flee too, he feared that Youheng would go and never return, leaving behind an unresolved affair. So he pushed Youheng into the room without further ado and locked the door. The windows, walls, and every other point of exit were heavily guarded, and even his three meals of tea and rice were passed in through a revolving tray (a device for transferring food). Arranged this way, Youheng would have found it difficult to escape even if he had grown wings.

Yousheng was trapped in the room, like a monkey or crane caged in a basket, with no way to escape. He could only swallow his anger and make do. Old Kong thought to himself: "My son-in-law has committed no crime. How can we keep him locked up forever? Better to have Big Qiao admit him to the room at dusk and let him out at dawn. That way, he won't have to look at Big Qiao's plain face all night, and the two of them can share a bed. Perhaps the young man will come around." But Lu Yousheng's resolve was even firmer than that of Liu Xiahui of Lu, the legendary man said to have sat in the same bed as a woman without being moved. Even with Big Qiao sleeping beside him, he did not stir in the slightest. After a few days, Big Qiao herself would no longer come into the room. This was because Yousheng, who was sincere in cherishing talent and beauty alike, was set in his ways and would not change.

Unexpectedly, misfortune struck Kong Fang's household. One night, around the third watch, shouting rose suddenly outside the gate, and people were pounding on the doors and prying off roof tiles. A band of bandits with their faces covered burst into the room carrying torches and clubs, and Yousheng had nowhere to hide. They searched everywhere and found no valuables, so they bound him and scorched his body with heated straw, demanding that he reveal where the treasure was hidden. Unable to bear the pain, Yousheng said, "The treasure is in the upstairs room at the back." The bandits forced him to lead the way. He had only just arrived at this house and did not know the layout well, and the bandits beat him with clubs at every step, so it was only with great difficulty that they reached the rear building. The robbers rifled through the chests and cabinets, taking everything they wanted, and then prepared to leave. Fearing pursuit, they dragged Yousheng two or three li away before letting him go.

Yousheng fled as fast as he could, staggering along. When he fell, he lay dazed for a while, then climbed up and kept running. Then one of his shoes came off, and he groped on the ground to find it. But that shoe had landed three li away.

Youseng fled for his life, stumbling and reeling, tumbling to the ground and scrambling up only to run on. Unexpectedly, one of his shoes came off. He groped about on the ground for it, but instead of the shoe he touched a heavy bundle, which he supposed the bandits had dropped. He picked it up and tucked it at his waist, torn with doubt: "If I go back, they will surely still be locked up in the house. But if I don't go back, I have no clothes on below the waist. How will I face people when it grows light?"

As he stood not knowing what to do, he saw the moon nearing its setting, and the rooster crowed to announce the dawn. Before long, the sky brightened. Youseng had no choice but to crouch on the ground. The locals, seeing this strange figure, gathered around and questioned him about where he had come from. Youseng, impatient with their questions, suddenly saw a little servant squeeze through the crowd and call out, "Master, put on your clothes!"

Youseng looked up and saw that the newcomer was the little servant of the zither attendant. Last night he had heard that his master had been seized, and he reckoned that his master must have been released along the way and would have no clothes on below. So, after the bandits went out, he took several undergarments and, before dawn, searched in every direction, and by chance he met Youseng here.

Yousheng put on his clothes and said to Qinsi, "I don't want to go back. Let's find another place to settle down." Qinsi replied, "Our luggage is still at his house. How can we just walk away from it?" Yousheng said, "Luggage is nothing! If we go back, they'll lock me in the room again, and then where would I ever have a chance to get ahead? The examinations are coming up soon. Let's go to the provincial capital, find lodgings, and study for a while. Once the exams are over, we'll figure something out."

Qinsi said, "We don't even have money for the journey. How can we take the examinations without it?" Yousheng then told him about the silver he had collected by begging. Qinsi was delighted. He followed his master on the road and bought bedding and other sleeping gear along the way. When they reached the provincial capital, the examinations had already ended. Yousheng obtained a place in the rankings through a supplementary quota and now only had to sit the three examination sessions and strive for an official degree.

A few days later, the first examination began. The scholar, Youseng, got ready, reached the examination hall, and arrived just in time for the roll call before entry. It was still early, and the examination papers had not yet been distributed, so he lowered his head and dozed off.

Suddenly, many clerks shouted urgently, "The names are being called in the hall. Hurry!" They seized him without a word and pulled him along. The names were read in order, and when the eighteenth name, "Lu Shishan," was called, Youseng stepped forward and answered.

In the hall sat a dignified official, who said, "You abandoned your wife for no reason. The God on High is angered with you, and your prospects have been struck off." Youseng was about to explain himself, but the clerks dragged him out. He caught hold of one of them and asked, "Why did you call me up only to refuse me?" The clerk replied, "This gentleman is in charge of deciding whether the candidates pass."

Youseng wanted to ask more... By the afternoon... he handed in a blank examination paper. The results were posted soon after, and those admitted were at the top of the list. Youseng said, "I failed this round, most likely because of that dream. I will wait three more years. If I still fail the next examination, I will make other plans."

Time passed quickly, and autumn arrived, when the provincial examination was held. Heaven's principle was plain to see, and once again his name fell to the very bottom of the list. He then said to the lute attendant, "Having failed both examinations, I feel too ashamed to stay here any longer. I will give up my scholar's status, pack my belongings, and go home." That same day he settled his rent and set off on the road.

Along the way he thought to himself, "That dream in the examination hall was truly strange. When I return, I will first mend relations with the Kong family. Then I will bring my wife home with me and fetch Ms. Pu back, to fulfill this marriage and let her return to her original family."

Suffering in this sea has no shore. Turning back at once is the road to liberation.

When Dai Qiao had this single thought of turning back toward goodness, it had already alerted the Duty Officer of the Day (Zhiri Gongcao), the divine clerk responsible for surveillance and reporting that day's conduct. The Gongcao reported the matter to the Supreme Emperor, and the merit she had accumulated was now seven or eight parts likely to be recognized. That is a matter for later.

Now, after the bandits had left, Master and Mistress Kong crawled out from under the bed and counted what remained in the house. They found that they had lost three to five thousand taels of silver, and that they had also lost a son-in-law. Both wealth and kin were gone, and their grief was overwhelming. They reported the robbery to the authorities and sought to have the bandits pursued. Afterward they brooded in low spirits, their worry grew into illness, and they fell into alternating fevers and chills. Within a few days both had died, and Mistress Kong followed her husband in death shortly after.

Dai Qiao mourned them with a sorrow greater than the grief she would have owed her own birth parents. She observed three years of mourning and, when the period ended, buried the two of them according to ritual. The household, once prosperous, was thrown into disorder with the loss of the two people who had managed its affairs. Although Dai Qiao was no longer young, she was still unmarried, and as a young woman she could not hold the servants and workers in check, so she gave up trying to oversee them.

One day she reflected: "I am now getting on in years, I have no one to rely on, and I have been married twice, yet both husbands have vanished like bubbles and shadows. I no longer hope for any good fortune. I will first pack my things and go home to see my own parents, then cut off a few locks of my hair and leave the household to devote myself to cultivation." She summoned Pu Zhong and his wife to discuss it, and the couple agreed to her wishes. Dai Qiao then made her arrangements, hired a cart, and the three of them set out for home.

Lu Yousheng hurried toward Ji'an Prefecture. When he reached the Kong household, the gate was deserted, unlike the lively scene of former days, and he was puzzled. He quickly asked an elderly man who lived across the way, "How has the Kong family been lately?"

The old man replied, "After the Kongs suffered a robbery, both husband and wife died, and the house was sold to someone else."

Yousheng asked again, "They had a daughter. Where does she live now?"

"She moved away three days ago," said the old man.

When Yousheng asked where she had gone, the old man said he did not know. Hearing that the Kong family had utterly declined and that the young woman's whereabouts were unknown, Yousheng felt deep grief. He and Qin Si had nowhere to turn, so they had no choice but to reconsider their journey and continue on their way.

They had already reached the area around Mount Yu. After so long on the road, exposed to wind and frost, their companion fell ill and had to stay at an inn to recuperate, where he sent for a physician. His condition grew worse by the day, nearly threatening his life, and the money they had was spent. Qinsi, the servant who attended the scholar, was frantic and did not know what to do. He discussed the matter with the innkeeper and proposed selling himself to raise funds for his master's funeral expenses.

The innkeeper asked, "If you leave, who will look after your master?" Qinsi replied, "Let us first draw up the bond of sale. I can leave once it is clear whether my master recovers or gets worse. That will not be too late." The innkeeper agreed and told Qinsi to speak with his master first, while he himself looked for a buyer.

Qinsi told his companion about the arrangement. With tears in his eyes, the scholar said, "Things have come to this, and there is no other way. It is only that you are so kind to me, and yet I am the one who has brought you to ruin." Having said this, he wept again. Qinsi tried to comfort him: "Please do not grieve too much, Master. This is only a temporary measure. Once you have money to redeem me, you can buy me back."

While the two were still talking, the innkeeper came to the window and called out, "Lu, my friend, I have something to tell you." When Qinsi went outside, the innkeeper told him that he had found a household willing to buy him, but the buyer would offer only four taels of silver. Qinsi said, "We urgently need money right now. Let it be." The innkeeper then went to settle terms with the buyer and arranged for the sale to be completed the next day.

On the second day, Qinsi followed the innkeeper to the buyer's home, signed the deed of sale, and received the silver. Back at the inn, he immediately called a doctor to examine his master and prescribe medicine. As the saying goes, "Medicine can cure one who has not yet reached the point of incurable illness; the Buddha saves only those who share a karmic bond with him." Over three or four days, the scholar's illness gradually improved. By the time of the full moon, his health had returned.

After three or four days, his illness gradually improved. By the time the full moon arrived, his body had recovered its strength. His friend said, "I am well now. You should go to his house." Qinsi took his leave of his master and went.

Qinsi's new master was surnamed Chen, personally named Chen Yan. His father, Chen Guozhu, was serving as Education Intendant (an official responsible for overseeing local education and the civil examinations) in Shaanxi. Because the journey was long, he had not brought his family along. Chen Yan's mother, Lady Qian, was at home teaching her son to read. Chen Yan was fourteen at the time. When Qinsi arrived at the Chen household, he kowtowed in greeting, paying his respects to the mistress of the house and the young master, and then went to the kitchen to pay his respects to the household's elder sisters-in-law, the younger brothers, and the other siblings. He was normally tactful and considerate in dealing with people and was welcomed wherever he went. The young master Chen also knew that Qinsi had once sold himself to save his former master, and that he was a loyal and righteous servant. For this reason he respected him and never abused his position to bully him.

One day, a letter from Education Intendant Chen arrived at the house. In it he earnestly asked that a tutor be engaged to teach his son. After reading the letter, Qinsi said to the young master, "Your father's letter says he wishes to engage a tutor. Why not invite my former master, the young master?" The young master replied, "How do you know what sort of scholar he is, that you speak so readily?" Qinsi answered, "Though I do not know exactly how learned he is, I do know that when he was at home he passed the county examination as a xiucai (licentiate) at twelve, and at sixteen he was appointed a lingsheng (a senior licentiate supported with grain by the government). Later he went to Jian Prefecture to serve as a muyou (a private secretary who assisted in handling official business), and so could not return home to sit for the examinations; during his service there he was permitted to obtain licentiate status. From all this, he is likely a capable writer." The young master smiled and said, "Since that is so, I will write an invitation card for you to take to him and ask him to come drink with us." And so the young master wrote out an invitation and handed it to Qinsi to carry.

When Qin Si, the attendant, reached the inn, he presented his calling card to his master and explained his errand. The friend was delighted. He immediately straightened his robes and cap, wrote a formal visiting card, and set out to call on Young Master Chen. As soon as he entered, Chen hurried out to greet him with every courtesy. The two took their seats as host and guest and exchanged pleasantries. After tea, they turned to ancient prose and the examination essays, talking with keen interest and great enjoyment. Chen said, "Your insight is remarkable, sir. You have opened my mind considerably, like a sudden clearing of the clouds." His friend answered modestly, "I do not deserve such praise." Wine and dishes were then set out, and the two drank together until late at night before they parted. Chen invited the scholar to spend the night in his study.

The next day, Chen told his mother that he wished to engage this scholar to teach at home, and Madam agreed. Chen prepared the customary gifts for a teacher, invited the scholar to sit in the main hall, and performed the four bows. They then signed the letter of engagement. The matter of that day was thus settled, and we set it aside here.

Now, after Da Qiao left home, he found the journey by land exhausting, so he hired a boat and returned along the Yangtze River. After several days, a violent storm rose on the river, the boat could not make headway, and they had no choice but to moor at the foot of Dagu Mountain. Unexpectedly, around the second watch of the night, a band of river pirates swarmed aboard. They bound Da Qiao and his two servants, threw them into the river, plundered the trunks and goods, and sailed off. As the poem says:

"Unless one has endured the bone-piercing cold, how could the plum blossom send forth its fragrance?"

Had Da Qiao not suffered this calamity, he would not later have enjoyed the fortune of a husband of high rank and a comfortable life of his own. This is the beginning of the next tale.

Volume 3, Tale 4: The Ugly Woman Who Married Three Times.

Below Mount Dagu the Yangtze ran wide and swift. After Da Qiao fell into the water, the rapid current swept her away, and she soon disappeared from sight, with no one knowing where she had drifted. Her life was not yet to end, however, and she came to drift alongside a passenger boat. The boatman saw her and called out, "A woman has come drifting down from upstream. Quick, save her!" Some of the passengers took up bamboo poles, others jumped into the water, and they soon pulled her aboard. Da Qiao was still breathing faintly.

The official in charge on the boat had the boatman's wife untie the ropes binding Da Qiao, change her clothes, and rest for a while. Afterward he had her brought into the cabin and asked about her background. Da Qiao recounted in detail her parents' circumstances, her marriages first to the Zhang family and then to the Li family, and the bandits she had met along the way. The official sighed again and again. "Pitiable, truly pitiable!" He looked her over carefully and found that her appearance was not especially pleasing, nor did she seem the sort of woman others would take a liking to. She was now well past her youth yet remained unmarried, and though she came from a respectable family, she had been reduced to this plight. He reflected that if he did not help her, she would likely die in some wild ditch.

The official said to Da Qiao, "Marriage comes in its own time, as fate decrees, so you need not be anxious. I will take you as my daughter now, and you may stay by my side for a while. In time I will find you a husband of talent and good looks, and see you married off."

Da Qiao said happily, "You, my lord, have saved my life and now arranged my future. Even if in years to come I were to repay you by bearing rings in my mouth or binding grass in gratitude, it would not be enough to repay your kindness." She brought over a chair and said, "Please, Father, take the seat of honor, so that your daughter may kowtow to thank you for giving her a second life." The official took the seat at the head calmly, and only rose to change seats after she had finished her thanks.

The next day, the official found two maidservants along the way and had them attend upon Miss Da Qiao.

You ask who this official is? He is Chen Guozhu, the father who hired Lu Yousheng to teach his son Chen Yan. At that time Chen Guozhu was serving as Education Intendant of Shaanxi and was about to take up his post. He bought two maidservants and had them assigned to attend Miss Daqiao.

Daqiao was fortunate indeed. She had met the benefactor who saved her life, and she was able to enjoy wealth and high rank. Pity Pu Zhong and his wife, who had already been buried in the belly of the fish. Their fate is truly lamentable.

After Chen Guozhu took up his post, he governed with integrity, as pure as water. But he was upright and unbending by nature and would not curry favor with his superiors. After he had served three years, the Circuit Inspector memorialized the throne to impeach him, and he was demoted to Prefect of Fuzhou. Chen Guozhu then took Daqiao with him to Fujian to take up the new post. On arriving there, he sent people to fetch his family.

Chen Yan, the son, was slow of mind by nature. After meeting Lu Yousheng, a teacher of great learning, the two of them discussed poetry and prose morning and evening, and their bond as teacher and student was as close as that of flesh and bone. Before they knew it, three years had passed. One day Chen Yan heard that his father had been demoted to Prefect of Fuzhou. Though he was unhappy about it, he reflected that the new post was not far from here, and that he could take the old man and the child there to share in its prosperity. This brought him some comfort.

Some time later, the escort sent to fetch them arrived, and Chen Yan gathered his belongings and prepared to set out. Lu Yousheng wished to resign his teaching post and return home, but Chen Yan urged him again and again to stay, so in the end he had no choice but to go with them.

Upon reaching the borders of Fuzhou, the sedan-chair bearers and horses that had accompanied them were already waiting. The whole party entered the government office together, and the young lady paid her respects to her mother. Lord Chen explained to Madam the background of Daqiao. Madam said, "The girl has grown so big. Why, after living in Shaanxi for three years, have we not yet found her a good match?" Lord Chen replied, "She grew up in Wumen (the region around Suzhou), so she ought to marry someone from her own native place, so that her parents can be reunited with her in later years." Madam said, "That makes sense."

That evening a banquet was held. Lord Chen invited the teacher to join them, and the father, son, and teacher drank together. After several rounds, Lord Chen said, "My son is dull-witted by nature. It is thanks to your instruction, Teacher, that his speech and conduct are no longer as unruly as they once were." The teacher replied, "I do not deserve such praise. Your son is exceptionally clever; he understands a great deal from hearing a single thing. I have long neglected my studies, and I fear I am not up to the responsibility of being his tutor. I hope Your Excellency will not take offense." The two of them went on to talk of their respective experiences, of books, and of historical allusions, and the banquet did not break up until late at night.

The next day, the young master went with the teacher to the back garden to study. It was early in the third month, and the peonies were in full bloom. Daqiao's whereabouts...

The next day, the young master and his tutor went to the back garden to study. It was early in the third month, and the peonies were in full bloom. Miss Daqiao brought three or four maids to the garden to admire the flowers. As they rounded the study, they unexpectedly ran into Yousheng. He hurriedly stepped aside and retreated into the study. The young lady and her maids wandered about the garden, admiring the flowers and enjoying themselves, and did not return until they had had their fill.

Who would have thought that Yousheng tore a hole in the window paper and quietly peeked through it at the young lady. He thought to himself, "Though this young lady has her hair full of pearls and kingfisher ornaments, she does not have a shred of beauty. That is why she has reached this age without marrying and wasted her youth. It is truly a pity." He watched her walk through the garden gate before he left, and as he walked he sighed, "Oh, young lady, your suffering is just like mine. I, Lu Yousheng, am handsome and talented, yet now I am alone, just like you. Come to think of it, your keeping to your chamber alone is not without reason."

As the saying goes:

Though appearances differ between beauty and ugliness, two people in two places both keep vigil beside a lonely lamp.

These thoughts had only arisen from the scene before him, and he expected to put them aside soon. Yet from morning until night, the matter kept weighing on his mind.

He had first thought that this meeting was merely a passing whim that he would soon forget, but he never expected to think of that young lady day and night, and an boundless sorrow welled up in his heart. Turning over the past again and again, he regretted: "When I was young, I had no judgment of my own. My parents had me wed Miss Pu, and though she was plain of face, she was still the wife with whom I had shared the bridal candles. Why did I have to flee from home? Later I took Miss Kong as my wife as well, and I could have settled down with her. Yet why did I not share a bed with her for a full year? All of this is the fault of those hateful bandits who carried me off. But from then on I made up my mind never to return. Had I not been seized by the bandits, I might well have changed my heart and gone back. Now I am approaching forty and still alone. Had I known it would come to such desolation, I would hate my own stubbornness and willfulness back then. As the saying goes:

"One misstep, and all that follows comes to nothing."

My parents are both past sixty, and I cannot attend to them at their side. Of the daughters of both families, some have married and some keep to their old lives, and now none of them are known to me. Chaoyun and Qiaoqiao have not been seen in twenty years, and no doubt they have grown old too."

As he went over everything from beginning to end, tears welled up like a spring, and he sobbed without stopping. After weeping for a while, he grew drowsy without realizing it, so he bent his arm to serve as a pillow and lay down to rest.

Suddenly two women walked into the room and said, "We have been honored by your concern, sir, so we have come especially to pay our respects." Looking closely, Youseng saw that they were Qiaoqiao and Chaoyun. He felt he had no face to meet them and wanted to slip away, but it was already too late.

Qiaoqiao said, "Why are you so faithless, sir! You did not heed my words back then, and that is how you have come to this state." Youseng said, "I was muddled at the time, and I was deceived twice in a row." Qiaoqiao said, "Now your marriage prospect is a young lady from a wealthy and distinguished family. If you repeat your old mistakes, you will never meet anyone destined for you in this life." Youseng said, "I will remember this. Thank you for your guidance."

Chaoyun caught hold of him and said, "Son-in-law, still..." The following text is damaged. Then Youseng took something out of his book chest and handed it to Chaoyun, but its exact content cannot be made out because of the damage. Qiaoqiao then told Youseng that someone had offered to arrange a match and set up a meeting for him. Youseng said, "From what you two are saying, you have already become ghosts of the netherworld."

Seeing that he had recognized them as ghosts, the two women fell silent and, turning into a gust of wind, went away. Youseng hurried to search in every direction, but could find no trace of them. Knowing they were truly ghosts, he cried out, and then he woke from the nightmare. It had only been a dream.

He immediately went to look for the sweat towel, only to find that it had already been taken. Recalling what had just happened, he felt that he had been plagued by ghosts all along. He had long harbored doubts about where the towel came from, yet he had cherished it all the same. Only today did he understand the reason behind it, and once again he could not help but sigh.

Qiaoqiao and Chaoyun bore lingering grievances in life, and even after death they remained wronged. For this reason, a wisp of their souls came here, wishing for this ugly woman to marry him as his wife. Though marriages are said to be arranged by fate, in truth the two were naturally drawn together. Earlier, their attempt to seek a match through a go-between had failed, and fearing they would never have another chance, they then sought the union through dreams. Unexpectedly, their friend saw through the scheme, and they departed as a gust of wind.

Afterward, the allotted years of both had run out, and they came before King Yama. Upon investigation, it was found that they had committed no wrongdoing in life, and after serving twenty years as wandering spirits, they had rendered great merit to Pu's family. Accordingly, they were arranged to be reborn in Pu's womb, becoming descendants of the Lu family, and in time they would rise to extraordinary eminence and bring glory to the household. This, too, may be counted as a bond formed through cause and effect.

After Lu Yousheng had that dream, he thought of the young lady from the wealthy family and became convinced that she must be Master Chen's daughter. He was overjoyed. He thought to himself, "If I could take her as my wife, then the twenty years I have spent wandering would not have been in vain."

From then on, he thought of the young lady all day long. He could not concentrate on his books or eat his meals, and gradually he fell ill with lovesickness. He sighed, "The young lady sits alone in her inner chamber, suffering from loneliness, and I, Lu Yousheng, live alone in an inn and have tasted solitude to the full. Heaven, why will you not let us form a bond, grow old together, and give each other a home? But Master Chen is stubborn by nature. How could he give his daughter to me, a drifting outsider with no one to rely on? Even if Master Chen agreed, the young lady might not be willing to marry a schoolteacher like me. And even if both father and daughter consented, I have no way to send a proposal. It would be improper to ask a go-between, and even worse to speak for myself. If I speak and Master Chen refuses, I will only humiliate myself and lose the dignity that befits the relationship between teacher and student. Yet on careful reflection, she is a daughter of a wealthy family and I am a scholar of profound learning. I do not mind that her looks are plain, and she need not mind that I am poor. Marrying me would not be a grievance for her."

He turned the matter over again and again, and concluded that it would ultimately be hard to accomplish. He could only, like the man who quenched his thirst by imagining plums, console himself with fancy.

Meanwhile, after the Wenzong (the official in charge of the local civil service examinations) left the school, he issued a notice announcing the Suishi (the annual examination). Master Chen's son asked the teacher to adopt the surname Chen and follow him to the examination. Lu Yousheng……

The education intendant came to the school, issued a notice, and announced the annual examinations. Young Master Chen wanted the scholar to change his surname to Chen so that he could sit the examinations alongside him, so Yousheng changed his name to Chen Chong. Both entered the examination hall and went smoothly: the scholar placed first, Young Master Chen placed third, and both were granted permission to sit the provincial examination.

In autumn, after the three sessions of the provincial examination were finished, the scholar placed in the eighties, and Young Master Chen passed as well. The Chen family held a banquet to celebrate and seated the guests and hosts separately. The scholar was Young Master Chen's "elder brother of the same year," meaning a fellow candidate who had taken the examination with him. The Chen family also treated him as a true son, and Master Chen had long wished to betroth his daughter, Daqiao, to the scholar. For this reason, Daqiao did not come out to greet the guests that day. Master and Madam Chen took the seats of honor, the scholar faced west, and the young master faced east. Everyone drank merrily until they were drunk, and the party broke up. The next day, the scholar still had to meet and entertain his fellow successful candidates and the chief examiner, and he was kept busy for a full month before he had leisure.

One day, Master Chen said to his wife, "I have long wanted to marry Daqiao to the scholar. Now that he has passed the provincial examination, this is the right moment to arrange the match, and we must not miss it." Madam Chen replied, "But our daughter's looks are ordinary, and she is no longer young. What if the scholar is not pleased?" Master Chen said, "Let us settle the betrothal first, and think of a way afterward."

That very day, Master Chen asked an acquaintance, Ke Bing, to act as matchmaker. Ke Bing agreed and went to see Yousheng to explain Master Chen's wish for the match. How could Yousheng have expected the Chen family to propose on their own initiative? Now that Master Chen was willing to give him his daughter, he had no reason to refuse, and he readily agreed. The two families chose an auspicious day and used silk thread as the token of betrothal, and the wedding was then held in the Chen household.

On the wedding night, after the cup-exchange ceremony was complete, the couple returned to the bridal chamber. Youseng put his arm around the young lady's shoulders, took up a silver mirror to admire her beauty, and sighed, "My fate, my fate!" The young lady answered, "My darling, my darling!" Youseng smiled and turned away.

The young lady said angrily, "I only called you 'darling' out of love, following your words. I didn't want to go against your wishes, so that is how I answered. Why are you laughing at me?" Youseng said, "I wasn't laughing at you, Miss, and I wasn't calling to you. I was only resenting my own fate, which is why I sighed."

The young lady grew even angrier. "When you were down and adrift, it was my brother who took you in. Now, through my father's official post and his success in the examinations, I am a young lady surrounded by pearls and jade. Am I really not worthy of you, a provincial graduate who failed to pass the metropolitan examination? And yet you resent your fate?" With that, she burst into loud weeping. Youseng begged and consoled her again and again, but she only cried louder, and between sobs she shouted, "You clearly think I'm ugly and want to run away! If you dare leave, I'll have my father memorialize the throne to impeach you, strip you of your degree, and bring about your death." Then she wept again.

Youseng panicked, afraid that Chen Gong and his wife would be embarrassed if they heard, and quickly knelt on both knees. "Miss, please spare me this once. I will never dare offend you again." He also raised his sleeve to cover her mouth, which seemed a foot wide. Seeing him apologize so humbly, Daqiao stopped crying and asked, "Why exactly do you resent your fate? Tell me everything, one by one. If there is even half a lie, you will kneel until dawn."

Youseng said, "At eighteen I resolved to take as my wife a beauty unrivaled in the world. Unexpectedly, my father hastily arranged a match for me with Pu Xiaochuan's daughter, who was exceedingly plain. After the wedding ceremony, I fled from home. Later I married Kong Fang's daughter, who was equally ugly, and I again left without a word. Now that I have married Miss, with her dignified appearance, I am very satisfied. I sighed just now because it is my fate to be destined for a young lady of wealth, and so I would not take those exceptionally ugly women as my wife. Isn't this fate?"

The young lady could not help laughing when she heard this. She helped him to his feet and said, "Your fate is my fate. Before, I married Lu Shishan, and he ran off as soon as we had bowed before the wedding candles. Later I married Yan Yu, and he ran off too. Now that I have married you, I am afraid you will run off as well, which is why I was too shy to give you more than that one answer."

Yousheng said, "By your account, Lu Shishan was me, Yan Yu was me, and Chen Chong, who married the young lady today, is me too. Does that mean the young lady is the daughter of the Pu family and also the daughter of the Kong family?"

Daqiao said, "I won't hide it from you. I am the daughter of Pu Xiaochuan, I am also the daughter of Kong Fang, and the young lady you married today is still me."

Yousheng said, "I always wondered how there could be a second Daqiao in the world, and it turns out to be you after all. This bond of fate really cannot be defied." The two talked and joked for a while, then undressed and went to bed. Their earlier quarrel in conversation naturally had to be mended under the covers. She was an older woman who still had charm, and he was a man who had long been away from women, so neither hesitated, and they came together in intimacy and shared the joys of the marriage bed. By this point Yousheng no longer minded her plain appearance above the waist; he attended only to the pleasures below. Thinking that he had turned out to be no important person, he still felt a little resentful. The two had let twenty years of romance slip by, and all the twists and turns before had ended with them becoming husband and wife after all. Of that night's pleasures there is no need to say more. The next day the two explained what had happened to Master Chen and the others, and everyone found it very astonishing.

Meanwhile, □□□□□ people failed to make it to the capital in time, □□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□ there was only the revelry with Yan, which needn't be described in detail. The next day, he told □□□□ Chen Gong about the affair, and everyone found it deeply astonishing.

Meanwhile, □□□□□ people failed to make it to the capital in time, □□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□ afterward, only Prefect Yan sent a letter, and only then did everyone learn of his whereabouts. From then on there was no further news. Fortunately, they had another daughter, whose childhood name was Daier, meaning a daughter standing in for a son. She was now sixteen, and Tiancheng and his wife at last had someone at their knees, so that their old age would not be lonely.

One day Tiancheng was sitting idly in the front hall when he saw a man approaching with a face full of joy. The man knelt before him and said, "Father, your unworthy son deserves ten thousand deaths, but today I have finally come home." Tiancheng's eyes were dim, and only after looking closely did he recognize him. He seized his hand and said, "My son, you have been gone for twenty years, and I have longed for you so painfully!" Father and son wept without end, overcome with both sorrow and joy.

Inside the house, Madam Xiao heard her husband weeping and, not knowing what had happened, hurried out with their daughter. Yousheng knelt before them, and the three embraced one another in tears. Daier did not understand the reason and quickly stepped aside. Tiancheng explained to her, "This is your real elder brother. He left home twenty years ago and has only now returned. Come over and greet him." Daier paid her respects to Yousheng with two bows, and then the four of them finally sat down.

After so many years apart, there was too much to say at once. Yousheng first told of his own history: how he passed the provincial examination to become a juren and married the daughter of Pu Xiaochuan. His parents were delighted to hear it and at once sent people to the boat to carry the luggage ashore and to bring their daughter-in-law up to land. Qin Si had also taken a foster daughter under Chen Gong, and she would attend the bride on the journey and return home with them.

Tiancheng then sent word to the Pu family, and Pu Xiaochuan and his wife soon arrived together. Da Qiao had already come. The main hall was set with incense and candles, and Yousheng and his wife again paid respects to the household altar (the ancestral tablets enshrined in the home), performing the family rites.

Tianchéng then sent word to the Pu family, and before long Pu Xiaochuan and his wife arrived together. Daqiao had already come ahead. In the hall, incense and candles were lit, and Youseng and his wife paid respects to their household ancestors again, then greeted both sets of parents. Everyone sat down to a reunion feast, their hearts full of joy. At the table, they told each other, one by one, of the experiences of the past twenty years. When something was happy, the whole company burst into laughter; when something was sad, they wept together. Only Pu Xiaochuan and his wife were deeply ashamed. They had once claimed that their daughter was dead, so how could she now be sitting here? The Lu family had not raised the matter, but Pu Xiaochuan felt his guilt all the same. That evening, the gathering broke up in high spirits.

The next day, Youseng asked after Qiaoqiao and Chaoyun. On learning that both had passed away seventeen or eighteen years earlier, he grieved deeply, dwelling on the affection they had once shared, now vanished without a trace. Who could have imagined that Qiaoqiao and Chaoyun would come to your household and continue the family line! All of this is the fate of past lives and old debts, arranged by unseen forces. In the scattering and gathering of human life, it seems as though spirits were at work to help.

After one year, Mr. Chen completed his term of office and set out for the capital with his son to sit for the metropolitan examination. On the way, he stopped in Suzhou to visit Lu Tiancheng, who immediately prepared a banquet in his honor. Over the meal, the two men began discussing a marriage for Mr. Chen's son. Lu Tiancheng wished to give his younger sister to the young man, and Mr. Chen agreed. "Our journey is hurried," Mr. Chen said, "and I have brought no betrothal gifts. What shall we do?" Lu Tiancheng replied, "Your son has been treated by me as a member of my own family. Why should we be bound by ceremony?" The next day, Mr. Chen sent over a golden ruyi scepter and a silver tripod as betrothal gifts. After staying a few days, he and Lu Tiancheng traveled to the capital together to take the examinations.

In the spring examinations, both men passed and were ranked among the third tier of the jinshi degree. They were subsequently appointed as magistrates and awaited their formal certificates of appointment. Mr. Chen had already been named Maritime Circuit Commissioner, an official charged with overseeing maritime affairs, so the two returned home together. Lu Tiancheng then gave his sister in marriage to Mr. Chen's son, and each of the families took up an official post.

Later, Lu Tiancheng's two sons both passed the examinations and earned the jinshi degree, and he and his wife both lived to the age of ninety. Their descendants continued for generations, and the family prospered for a long time. From this we can see that in the world many things come about naturally, without anyone deliberately bringing them about, and many things arrive of their own accord, without anyone deliberately seeking them. These are the workings of Heaven's will and fate, not arrangements that human effort can make. One should reflect on this carefully.

Volume Four, Story One: The Calamity That Befell Chang'e While Building the Lunar Palace

The poem says:

The moon shines bright, the breeze is still, and wild clouds drift among them. Raising a cup and singing aloud, one finds joy in oneself. The affairs of the world are like a chess game, their changes hard to foresee; so long as one holds fast to the Right Way and faces Heaven with an open heart.

When the Way of Heaven (Tiandao), the natural order of regular operations, goes awry, the winds and rains lose their proper seasons and the common people suffer calamities. When the Way of the ruler (Jundao), the principles by which a sovereign governs, goes astray, government falls into neglect, and treachery and deceit become common among the people. When the Way of humanity (Rendao), the ethical conduct that individuals and families should uphold, goes astray, household life loses its discipline, and deceit and perversity are likely to arise within the home.

In the reign of Emperor Yao, a flood lasted twenty years. In the Zhou dynasty, frost fell in the sixth month. In the Han, a white rainbow pierced the sun. In the reign of Tang Xuanzong, locusts covered the land. All of these were regarded as omens that the Way of Heaven had gone awry.

Examples of the ruler's Way going astray are also numerous. When Qin Shi Huang first destroyed the six states and unified the realm, had he attended to government with diligence, remained ever watchful, cultivated virtue, and practiced benevolent rule, it would not necessarily have been impossible to pass the throne down to his descendants for ten thousand generations. Yet he suddenly gave ear to the words of fangshi (practitioners who sought the arts of the immortals) and set out to sea in search of immortality.

At that time, a Daoist wearing a yellow headcloth (the attire of a Daoist practitioner) knelt by the roadside as the First Emperor made his eastern tour and requested an audience. He boasted of his immortal arts and displayed a range of wondrous transformations, all of which appeared perfectly clear. Qin Shi Huang, half-believing and half-doubting, said: "On this eastern tour I have no leisure to hear you expound the Dao. When I return to the capital, I will send for you, and we shall speak at length."

After the Daoist withdrew, he rode off on a white cloud and drifted away. Seeing such marvelous powers, Qin Shi Huang regretted having let the immortal slip past him face to face, and having run about overseas in vain. He hastily performed the fengshan sacrifices (the rites by which sovereigns worshiped Heaven and Earth) and at once returned to the capital. The Daoist was already kneeling and waiting outside the palace gate. After an attendant reported his arrival, the emperor summoned him inside, and the two discussed profound matters of the Dao face to face. The emperor held him in great esteem. When Qin Shi Huang asked where he dwelt, the Daoist replied: "This poor Daoist travels between Cangwu in the north and the Northern Sea. In an instant one can fly to the four quarters. How could there be any fixed trace?"

The threshold of the Palace of Jade Clarity (Yuqing Gong) in heaven was originally made of sandalwood, catalpa, and catalpa-like timber, and decorated with eight kinds of precious ornament. Over the years, however, it has been completely eaten through by worms. I would like to cast a threshold in silver, so that it will be sturdy and long-lasting and also more magnificent. I wonder whether Your Majesty will consider my sincerity and grant this request?

The First Emperor (Shihuang) replied, "How much would one threshold cost? You must also work out the exact length, width, and height of the palace gate first." The Daoist adept answered, "I have already measured it. It is eleven chi long, two chi wide, and one chi high, and it will take thirty-six thousand taels of silver."

The Emperor immediately ordered his attendants to take out the silver from the palace treasury in the stated amount, and he summoned many silversmiths, giving them five days to finish the casting. The threshold was carved on all four sides with dragons and phoenixes, flowers and birds, water patterns, and cloud patterns, and its craftsmanship was extremely refined.

The Emperor said to the Daoist adept, "A threshold this heavy, how will it be sent up to heaven?" The adept replied, "Your Majesty need not worry. In five days I will come in person to collect it."

Sure enough, five days later a white crane flew into the palace and lifted the threshold in its beak. In its mouth the threshold felt as light as a reed. The crane slowly rose into the high sky, and the Emperor gazed upward for a long time until it finally disappeared into the clouds. Everyone in the palace was astonished, and they all declared that this was proof of the Son of Heaven's abundant blessings, which had brought about such a remarkable encounter. The Emperor also believed it was the result of his own good fortune, and the courtiers praised him without end.

Five years later, however, the Daoist priest (Daoshi) changed into ordinary clothes and took a piece of silver to a silversmith's shop to have it melted down. The silversmith recognized that the silver bore patterns of phoenix wings and a dragon, which suggested it had been made for the imperial palace. He accepted the silver and exchanged it for him, and he secretly reported the matter to the county magistrate's office.

The county magistrate promptly dispatched a large number of constables and personally led them to make the arrest. Seeing the crowd, the Daoist understood why they had come, and he shrank down and slipped into the earth. The officers searched everywhere but could not find any trace of him. Only when they searched beside the root of a large tree did they see a strip of cloth, about a foot long, protruding from the ground. The magistrate concluded that he was a demonic Daoist (yaodao) and had men pour pig and dog blood down from above. The crowd dug into the soil and saw the Daoist standing stiffly upright in the earth, with the silver threshold right beneath his feet. They bound him, dug out the threshold, and had over a hundred men haul it up out of the ground, and then escorted both to present them to the First Emperor of Qin (Qin Shihuang).

The emperor issued an edict sentencing the Daoist to death by dismemberment, a punishment in which the body is cut apart. The silver threshold was carried back to the palace and entered into the imperial treasury.

This is a story about human affairs and the conduct of people with questionable character. In the Jiajing era, in Suian County of Yanzhou Prefecture, Zhejiang, there lived a jinshi scholar named Guo Lin, styled Xiangong, who had served as prefect of Yanzhou in Shandong. After the death of his parents, he returned home to observe the mourning period. His wife, née Yuan, was over fifty and had one son and two daughters.

Their son, Guo Zongxian, was nineteen and had already passed the county examination to become a xiucai. The elder daughter was sixteen and went by the childhood name Zhenzhu (Pearl). The younger daughter was twelve and was called Zhangzhu (Palm Pearl). Zhenzhu was quiet and refined by nature, and she seldom let her joy or anger show. She preferred plain tea and simple meals and favored undyed clothing. If a single bright color touched her clothes, she could not settle until she had changed them. Her bearing and looks were no doubt exceptionally striking. Seeing her always dressed so simply and elegantly, her mother would tease her by calling her "Chang'e."

On the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the osmanthus was in full bloom. Immortal Guo and his wife sat in the hall in front of the house, admiring the moon and the flowers. Moonlight shone in their wine cups, and the fragrance of osmanthus drifted through the room. After several rounds of drinking, Immortal Guo said, "The sky is clear and the bright moon is lovely today. It is a pity that Chang'e has not opened her moon palace to dance for us like heavenly music."

When his wife heard "Chang'e," she thought he was calling their eldest daughter, so she told a maid to fetch the young lady. The maid went to the embroidery room and brought the young lady to the foot of the steps. Smiling, the wife said, "Chang'e has arrived." Immortal Guo looked closely at his daughter. She wore a white gown, and her face was lovely and her figure slender and graceful, like a jade figure. He said to his wife, "Our daughter may look like Chang'e, but it is a pity we have no Guanghan Palace (the moon palace where Chang'e was said to live) to house her."

Pearl Maiden walked slowly into the hall, bowed, and sat down beside her parents. The three of them drank a few more cups of wine. As the moon gradually sank toward the west, they cleared away the banquet and each returned to their room to rest.

Immortal Guo thought to himself, "My daughter is so beautiful that she is truly like Chang'e. Why not build a moon palace in the back garden, house my daughter in it, and then choose a Zhuangyuan (top scholar) as her husband? Would that not bring glory to our family?"

As the poem says:

Climbing the osmanthus in the moon, they welcome an immortal guest;

All under heaven look up to the clouds and celebrate the Zhuangyuan.

The Immortal Gentleman (Xian Ren, the immortal) pondered all night. The next morning, after washing and dressing, he went to the back garden and examined and measured it again and again. He concluded that the space was too cramped for proper arrangement and that he would need at least ten mu of open ground to carry out his plans. Hesitating, he said, "It seems we must look for a site outside the city."

He at once took two attendants, rode out of the city in a sedan chair, and after several li arrived at a secluded spot. The land there was level and open, ringed by mountains on every side, and the scenery was exceedingly elegant. The Immortal Gentleman sent people to inquire after the owner and then paid to purchase the land. Soon he summoned craftsmen to begin work. Over a full year and at a cost of five or six thousand taels of silver, the palace grounds were brought to a fine and orderly completion.

It was around the Mid-Autumn Festival, when the night sky was clear and the Silver River shone brightly. The carved eaves were so finely wrought that they dazzled even without painted decoration, and the winding paths of the garden seemed to borrow the stars overhead to adorn the view. Strains of pipes and strings rose now and then, as if welcoming the spiritual grace of the celestial imperial maidens, and amid laughter and merriment it seemed the zither of the Xiang Consorts could be heard drifting out. Starlight sparkled as though a thousand mirrors had been opened at once, and cool sleeves and the tousled hair of one just awakened lent the night an air of otherworldly grace. The pools were so clean that no greasy stain of rouge and powder could be seen, and orchids gave off a cool, subtle fragrance. White clouds drifted out one by one from between the chambers, and pure snow seemed laid layer upon layer over the plain walls. Osmanthus blossoms fell like grains of gold, and moonlight exhaled a jade-white mist. It truly resembled a palace of jasper towers and jade chambers, most fitting for jade maidens and celestial nymphs to dwell in.

Once the Moon Palace was complete, the Immortal Gentleman hung a plaque over the gate tower inscribed "Hall of Guanghan and Qingxu," meaning a Guanghan Palace that is pure and ethereal. Miss Zhenzhu was dressed in simple, plain attire, with unadorned and airy ornaments. The Immortal Gentleman assigned several households of servants and more than ten maidservants to attend her and had her take up residence in the palace. Each day she climbed mountains, walked beside streams, admired the moon, and enjoyed the flowers.

One evening at dusk, the moon shone brightly, the stars were sparse, and the clouds lay still and the wind had died down. The young lady climbed the Lingxiao Pavilion to admire the moon. Around the second watch of the night, a foul wind suddenly rose outside the window, and the grass and trees shook in it. Crows flew about in confusion, cuckoos cried out in alarm, and gibbons wailed mournfully. A host of chang-si li gui (vengeful ghosts that, according to legend, serve fierce tigers and lure people to their deaths) had arrived one after another.

The young lady hurried to return to her bedchamber, but a white-browed tiger came up behind her, leapt into the pavilion, knocked her down, and carried her off in its jaws. The maidservant was so terrified that she nearly lost her senses, and she ran at once to tell the household servants. When the servants arrived, the young lady had already vanished. They hastily lit torches and searched all four mountains through the night, but found not a trace of her.

The servants hurried into the city that night to report the news to the Immortal Lord and his wife. The Immortal Lord was overcome with remorse and reproached his wife, saying, "Our fine daughter, whom I likened to Chang'e, has left the Moon Palace, and no one knows where she has gone." The wife in turn blamed him: "A daughter of her age should have stayed by our side to be looked after. Who told you to build this soul-snatching Moon Palace and bring about her death?" The two blamed each other in their grief, then followed the household out of the city to the Moon Palace and wept bitterly. They then sent men up the mountain to look for her remains so that they could be brought home and buried. The searchers spent several days on the mountain and found nothing, so the search was abandoned. The Immortal Lord and his wife wept and made offerings to the sky, then gathered their attendants and maidservants and returned home.

As the verse has it: In the Guanghan Palace, there was no one for company; Chang'e wept in sorrow, only to be carried off by a tiger.

Behind the mountain there was a place called Lan□, where a woodcutter surnamed Jin lived, earning his living by selling firewood at the market. He and his wife were both advanced in years, yet they had no children.

One day, Old Jin encountered a six-year-old boy on the street. The child was finely dressed and handsome in appearance, and he was looking about in a panic. He had evidently lost his way and was weeping until his face was wet with tears. Old Jin took him home and adopted him as a son, naming him Jin Yu.

Old Jin feared that if the boy learned the circumstances of his birth parents, he might recognize the road back home. So he led his household deep into the mountains, more than a hundred li from the market. In daily life, he also did not allow Jin Yu to speak lightly in front of others. As a result, the mountain people did not know the boy's origins and all took him to be the natural son of Old Jin and his wife.

Later, Old Jin and his wife passed away, and Jin Yu took over the business of cutting and selling firewood. At that time he was nearly ten years old.

One day Jin Yu went up the mountain early to cut firewood. Cold winds moaned through the peaks, and white mist hung over everything. Rounding a bend in the mountain path, he heard faint weeping from a tiger pit, and went forward to look. Inside was a woman of striking beauty, trapped in the pit and wearing many jewels in her hair. She was looking up to the sky and crying out, "Help! Help!"

Jin Yu thought to himself, "A woman this lovely, if I pull her out, she may well marry me. And even if she does not, surely she will reward me with the jewels in her hair." He hurried to move the logs covering the pit and untied the rope. But the bottom of the pit was several zhang deep, and it was not easy to haul a person up. After thinking for a while, he unfastened the cord that bound his firewood from his carrying pole, tied it off, and lowered it into the pit. The woman seized the end of the rope and climbed up along it.

The woman bowed to Jin Yu four times in succession. As he was about to ask where she had come from, she suddenly leapt into the air, transformed into a tiger, and ran off roaring. Jin Yu was so frightened that he rolled about on the ground. When he looked again after a while, the tiger had vanished without a trace. He was greatly astonished, and then went back up the mountain to cut wood as before.

All the way, Jin Yu kept turning the matter over in his mind. As for the origin of this tiger, it should be explained that on the cliff at Mount Lan□, at the □ mouth, there lived a Daoist adept (daoshi) surnamed Xiao, given name Daoyan. He dwelt there, subsisting on pine and cypress and cultivating his qi (vital energy).

No longer dwelling on the Jin Yu storyline, let us first explain where this tiger came from.

On Mount Lan□, at the Cliff of the □ Beak, lived a Daoist priest named Xiao Daoyan. He subsisted on pine and cypress, cultivated his vital energy (qi), and had already attained eight or nine parts in ten of his skill. One day a demon arrived who wished to eat the brains of living people. Seated with his eyes closed on the cliff, Daoyan reasoned: "I must become a tiger to obtain such a thing."

By chance he found a tiger skin hidden beneath the Buddhist cabinet in a temple, and he put it on. He then recalled the Divine Incantation of the Three Transformations of the Yellow Rat (Huangshu Sanbian Shenzhou) recorded in the Yunji Qiqian (Seven Satchels of the Cloud Satchel, a Daoist canon), and by reciting it he at once became a fierce tiger. Its savage nature flared up immediately, and it roamed the mountains, devouring anyone it met. The local people were terrified, and the authorities sent hunters into the mountains to dig pits and set nets.

On the day the tiger came down the mountain, it fell into a pit and changed into a woman. By chance she met a woodcutter, who rescued her from the snare. The priest had long been grateful to Jin Yu for saving his life, and, pitying him for being alone, he wished to find him a good companion.

Just then Immortal Duke Guo (Guo Xiangong) was building a moon palace for a young lady to live in. The priest resolved to repay Jin Yu by carrying off Miss Zhenzhu and making her the woodcutter's wife. But he did not know where the woodcutter lived, so he first placed the young lady in a cave. He then recited the skin-shedding incantation (tuopi zhou), changed back into his original form as a Daoist priest, and went out to inquire about the woodcutter's dwelling.

The young lady had been carried by the tiger over five or six mountains. She was so terrified that her limbs had gone limp, and only a faint breath remained in her. The Daoist priest (daoshi) heated some water and poured a Calming Pill (dingxin baodan), a medicine for settling the spirit, into her mouth. After a while she woke and regained her senses. She understood that the tiger had carried her to this place, and she was grateful that it had not devoured her.

She slowly rose and looked around. Stone beds, stone stools, a stone table, and a stone stove stood within the stone chamber, and everyday utensils were all present, like the home of a small household. The young lady thought to herself, "The tiger dragged me here, and I cannot tell what it intends to do. I had better leave the cave, find a road, and return to my own Moon Palace."

Outside the cave, ancient trees stood dense and gray, crows roosted in them, and the mountain wind blew bitter and cold. The ravines were deep and perilous, no human dwelling was to be seen in any direction, and jackals ran about among the rocks. She walked a few steps and then stopped, finding the way too difficult, so she returned to the cave and wept bitterly. Then she felt hungry. Seeing a faint glow of firelight reflected in a basin, she went to the stove and lit a fire to cook rice. Sobbing, she ate a bowl of rice, and then she sat there quietly.

At that moment the Daoist priest came into the cave carrying roe deer, muntjac, and venison. Seeing the young lady, he set down what he carried and bowed to her.

The Daoist priest entered the cave carrying the meat of river deer, muntjac, and deer. When he saw the young lady, he set the things down and bowed to her. Only then did she realize that this was the place where the Daoist priest cultivated, so she stepped forward, bowed, and pleaded: “I am the daughter of Prefect Guo. A tiger dragged me to this place. Please, Master, send me home, and I will repay you with gold, silver, and valuables.”

The Daoist priest said: “That can be done. I will first find out where your family lives, and then escort you back to your residence. Please stay here for a few days. It is only that food and bedding in these deep mountains are very simple, and I fear they will not suit your needs. I ask your forgiveness.”

The young lady said: “I have some concerns. A man and a woman living alone in a remote mountain will inevitably give rise to gossip and be mocked by others.” The Daoist priest said: “You worry too much, young lady. I have cultivated diligently for more than thirty years and am on the verge of attaining something. How could I give rise to wicked thoughts and ruin years of cultivation? You need not worry.”

The Daoist priest then turned and went out. The young lady thought to herself: “This Daoist priest has treated me with great respect, so I suppose he has no improper intentions. For now I will see how he conducts himself at night and then decide what to do.” The Daoist priest went outside the mountain, fetched a reed curtain, and used it to divide the dwelling in the stone cave into an inner and an outer section, letting the young lady stay inside while he himself stayed outside.

After dinner that night, the young lady lay down with her clothes on. The Daoist priest (daoshi) sat under the lamp beyond the reed curtain, eating greedily, and the sound of his swallowing was harsh to the ear. Quietly, the young lady slipped down from the stone bed and peered through a gap in the reed curtain. There she saw the priest gnawing on a human head. Terrified, she realized that sooner or later he would eat her too, but since matters had come to this, she steeled her nerve and watched for a long time. The text that follows is damaged, so it cannot be determined what the Daoist did next.

Seeing how fierce the Daoist was, Miss Pearl trembled with fear, but she went back to bed. She thought to herself, "The Daoist brought me here, and even in the dead of night he has not molested me. Perhaps I still have a chance to return home." Then she reconsidered: "He is a tiger. If I stay here, I am only food in his mouth. How could he ever let me go?" She tossed and turned all night without sleep, resolving to wait until dawn and see how things developed.

At daybreak the Daoist came in to see the young lady. Finding that the game brought the day before had not been touched at all, he carried it away. Before long he returned with a basket of fruit and melons, which he set down in the kitchen, and then he left. Seeing the fruit, the young lady forced herself to eat a few pieces. That night she went to peek at the Daoist again, though she no longer watched him with the same anxiety as before.

Half a month passed, and the young lady said to the Daoist, "I have been away from home for half a month and miss my family terribly. I beg you, Master, to send me home. The reward I promised you, I will certainly not go back on." The Daoist replied, "This poor man has already..." The rest of the text is missing, and the original provides no continuation.

After half a month had passed, the young lady said to the Daoist, "I have been away from home for half a month, and I miss my parents and family so much that my heart feels as parched as a thirsty throat. Master, I beg you to send me home. I will certainly keep my promise to reward you."

The Daoist said, "I have already left the mountain to make inquiries. Master Guo's residence is a month's journey from here. I have been short of travel money for the moment, which is why the trip has been delayed."

The young lady thought to herself, "I have been here only one night. How could a month have passed? This is clearly the Daoist's trickery." She pleaded with him again and again to take her home. The Daoist had no choice but to tell her everything that had happened: he had fallen into a trap, and a woodcutter had rescued him, and the woodcutter wished to marry the young lady.

The young lady said, "If that is the case, why not take me home and tell my parents? Let them decide and arrange a proper marriage. Would that not be far better!" The Daoist replied, "No, no! How could your father ever agree to give his flower-like daughter to a woodcutter? Miss, stay here and be patient. Once I find him, things will naturally be arranged well."

Weeping and sobbing, the young lady begged him tearfully, but the Daoist would not consent. Having no other recourse, she returned to her room, where she pondered in private what to do and waited to see how the Daoist would dispose of the matter.

Before she knew it, another month had gone by. The young lady thought, "This Daoist is truly strange. Why does he become a tiger merely by donning a tiger skin and reciting incantations? The spells he chants sound somewhat familiar to my ears. But he hides that tiger skin away every day, and I have not been able to get my hands on it."

One morning, after the Daoist priest (daoshi) had left the cave, the young lady searched around the cave entrance and found a tiger skin lying on the stone chamber. She stood on a stool to take it down, overjoyed, put it on at once, and chanted an incantation. She leapt and turned, and her body suddenly felt strong. She let out a fierce roar that shook the mountains, and the grass and trees seemed to wither in response. Swaying her head and tail, she walked straight out of the cave and thought to herself: "If I go home now, my parents won't recognize me. Besides, it would be inconvenient to settle in the city. I had better go to the Moon Palace first and consider what to do next."

After crossing several mountain peaks, she saw a tall pavilion and a towering terrace. "This must be my homeland," she thought, and with one great leap she arrived at the gate. The courtyard was desolate and cold, the plants and trees looked wretched, and nothing resembled the palace of former days. The young lady butted the door with her head, and it opened at once. She went in and looked around, feeling only that the scene was bleak and her sorrow almost unbearable.

After a while she thought, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if I shed this pelt now, returned to human form, and sent a letter to my parents so they could come and fetch me home!" She shook her whole body with all her might, but she could not shake off the tiger skin. Angrily she thought, "If I cannot take off this tiger skin, I will be an animal for the rest of my life. And if I lose this face as lovely as flowers and moonlight, would it not be a pity?" She then roared loudly, bared her claws and teeth, and charged about wildly, her roars like thunder. In an instant she had thrown the Moon Palace into disarray. At last, dejected, she made her way back into the mountains.

People from the villages before and behind the mountain heard that Immortal Guo's moon palace had collapsed. They all came to look, and on the way home they picked up broken rafters and fragments of railing. When Immortal Guo learned of this, he at once sent his household servants to recover the materials. The servants, seeing the crowd tugging and snatching, seized several of them and locked them in the house of Village Head Huang, intending to hand them over to the magistrate. In private they hung the men up and beat them, until the whole group cried out their innocence and begged for mercy.

Just then a Daoist priest passing the gate heard the piteous wailing and came in to look. He recognized one of the captives as the woodcutter, who had once rescued him from danger. The priest had searched for the woodcutter for over a month without success, and now he had met him by chance. He stepped forward and said to the steward, "Gentlemen, respected patrons, this humble monk presumes to ask a favor, and I hope you will grant it."

The crowd replied, "Master, you are an elder of this region, so speak freely. Tomorrow we also mean to ask you to serve as a witness."

The priest said, "I have no concern for the others, but this young man is my nephew. He supports me in my old age by cutting firewood and selling it. Today he was foolish for a moment and offended you all. I am willing to offer a small gift of thanks, and I beg you to forgive him." With that, he took out an ingot of five ounces of silver and handed it over. The crowd gladly accepted it.

The priest thanked them and wished to take Jin Yu away. But the crowd held him back and said, "Since you have made us this gift, we will stop hanging and beating him. But tomorrow we will still hand him over to the magistrate."

The priest pleaded again and again, but the crowd would not agree. Jin Yu drew the priest behind the door and asked, "Master, we have no acquaintance, so why did you spend five ounces of silver to save me?"

The priest said, "Do not ask yet. I will explain in time. But since they will not release you today, what are we to do?"

Jin Yu said, "If you, Master, can save me and let me escape, I will never forget it as long as I live."

The priest thought for a while and said, "I have a plan. Early tomorrow morning, when you see a tiger coming toward you, the crowd will certainly scatter. But you must not move. I have arrangements of my own."

Jin Yu agreed, and the two then parted. As the saying goes:

Bestowing kindness, one often finds the recipient does not remember to be grateful; those who suffer resentment, on the other hand, keep it in mind always.

Look at it this way: when calamity and blessing descend, gratitude and grudges receive their own clear verdicts.

Let us set this aside for now.

Returning to the mountain, Miss Pearl thought, "That cur of a Daoist priest (daoshi) has my skin on now, and I wonder how frantic he must be. I'll go to the mouth of the cave first and listen to what he has to say." She made her way along the path to the entrance and saw the Daoist inside devouring the flesh and bones, sighing again and again, "How strange! How strange! Where on earth has that young lady run off to?" Miss Pearl secretly laughed.

After a while, the Daoist finished eating and went up to the stone chamber to fetch the tiger skin, only to find it gone as well. He immediately stamped his feet and beat his chest, wailing in distress. "This is what I depend on to stay alive. Now it's lost. Am I to starve to death?" Muttering to himself, he continued, "I could manage on my own well enough, but that woodcutter. I promised to rescue him at Huang, the village headman's (baozheng) house, tomorrow morning. Without this item now, wouldn't I be failing my benefactor and breaking my word?" Having said this, he began to weep again.

The young lady had overheard the crowd's conversation from outside, so she hurried all the way to the front door of Huang Baozheng (the village's local security chief) and waited there. Through the window she saw the men inside eating their breakfast. She suddenly leapt into the central hall, and the men, unable to dodge in time, tumbled over one another in fright. Only Jin Yu kept his composure and did not move a muscle. The tigress seized him in her jaws, flipped over twice in a somersault, and leapt to the mouth of the cave. The cave door was still shut, and inside, the Daoist (daoshi) was sighing in distress.

She set Jin Yu down and butted the cave door several times with her head, then stepped aside. Hearing the noise, the Daoist threw on his clothes, got up, and opened the door. Lying stiff across the threshold was a "corpse." On closer inspection, he recognized it as the woodcutter he had tried to save the day before. Overjoyed, he hurriedly heated some soup, ground up a Dingxin Dan (dingxin dan, a Daoist elixir for calming the spirit and steadying the soul), mixed it into the broth, and fed it to Jin Yu. Jin Yu gradually came to, and the Daoist helped him into the cave to sit down and asked how he had come to be there. Jin Yu explained what had happened. The Daoist was greatly astonished, for it matched what he had already suspected, but he kept this to himself.

The Daoist then told Jin Yu, one by one, what had happened to him: he had once fallen into a trap and been transformed into a woman, and, grateful that Jin Yu had saved him, he had intended to betroth the young lady to him. Only then did Jin Yu understand the truth behind that strange experience from before. After lunch, he took his leave of the Daoist and went home.

As for the household stewards and the local underlings (village constables and minor functionaries), who had seen Jin Yu carried off by the tiger, they gathered the men who remained and went into the city to report the matter to the authorities. After the magistrate's office had questioned them about what had happened, they were each given twenty strokes of the bamboo rod and driven off.

Miss Pearl, hearing this, thought to herself: "From what the Daoist says, this man is my husband. I looked him over carefully just now. He is tall and sturdy, with a bright, open face, like a son of a wealthy family. Though he earns his living cutting firewood for now, he is sure to achieve something in time. I could marry him well enough. There is only one difficulty. This coat of fur on me does not come off easily, and I am hungry with nothing to eat. Why not first visit the woodcutter's home and show a little divine power? That would fill my belly, and it would secure me a proper standing. If we form a good match, is that not a fine thing?"

She went straight to the woodcutter's house, flung the door panels open, and sat down inside. Jin Yu came to the doorway, saw the gate standing wide open, and assumed thieves had broken into the house. He looked around in every direction and found nothing missing. But when he turned into the room and saw the creature, he was so startled that his eyes went wide and his mouth fell open, and he turned and ran outside. He thought: "I recognize this old monster. She is the one who rescued me early this morning and sent me on to the Daoist's home. Now she has come back. Can she be here to claim a reward? Or did she fail to eat me this morning and has come to press her favor on me? It is truly baffling. I had better go and take one more look at her."

The young lady glanced at Jin Yu and nodded absent-mindedly. Jin Yu jumped in fright and turned to run. Just then he spotted the neighbor's dog passing by. He grabbed it, hoisted it up, and tossed it in front of the tiger. "Big brother, this small gift should fill you up. Once you've eaten, go somewhere else!" The dog, terrified, flailed its four legs in the air and could do nothing but yelp. The young lady sniffed at the dog, then turned her head away.

Jin Yu cried out happily, "Good, good! This tiger eats vegetables, not dog meat, let alone human flesh!" He mustered his courage, walked up to the tiger, and was about to scratch its head a few times to see how it would react. But he pulled his hand back and said, "Wait, I mustn't be so reckless. As the saying goes, how can one scratch a tiger's head at will? It seems there's no other way. I'll just let it be." He then went to the kitchen to heat water and cook a meal.

The tiger was seen walking to the stove, poking out its tongue as if begging for food. Jin Yu scooped a bowl of rice and set it on the ground. The tiger flicked out its tongue once and licked the bowl perfectly clean. Jin Yu served it more, and after it finished, the tiger remained sitting there. Jin Yu himself ate his supper, lit the lamp, and went to bed. The tiger also walked up to the bed, lowered its head, closed its eyes, and went to sleep on its own.

Volume Four, Story Three: The Daoist Priest's Bloodstains, and the Return to One's Original Nature.

In a dream, Jin Yu saw a woman of striking beauty come to his bedside, and he asked who she was. She said she was the daughter of Prefect Guo, that she had a fated bond with Jin Yu, and that she wished to spend a night with him. Jin Yu remembered what the Daoist priest had said earlier that day, but he chose to believe her. The two embraced and grew intimate, then fell asleep.

When he woke, the woman was gone, but Jin Yu found a tiger's head lying right beside his pillow. Terrified, he broke into a cold sweat and quickly moved to the inner side of the bed. The next day, he was deeply puzzled by what had happened.

That night, the woman came to him again and they were intimate once more. She made him swear an oath that neither of them would marry in this life, and that they would remain together forever. Jin Yu was so absorbed in the affair at that time that, had she asked for his life, he would have given it up. He agreed to her terms and swore many vows beside the pillow.

After rising the next morning, Jin Yu thought to himself, "This is clearly the tiger at work, bewitching people's hearts. I must make up my mind and get away from it." Once the tiger had gone out, he hurriedly gathered up his bedding and clothes and fled at once.

As the saying goes: Fallen flowers have feelings for the flowing water, but the water has no heart to linger over the fallen flowers. The meaning is that the petals wish to follow the stream, yet the stream has no thought of staying behind for them.

As for where the tiger went afterward to seek Jin Yu, the following passage will explain.

Miss Pearl and Jinyu spent two nights as husband and wife in a dream, and they were very affectionate with each other. That evening the woodcutter did not return, so the next day she went out to look for him. Unexpectedly, Jinyu was staying at a friend's house, and just as he stepped out the door he came face to face with her. Miss Pearl was overjoyed, and she wagged her head and tail as she followed him into the house.

When the crowd saw a tiger walking toward them, they screamed in terror. Jinyu told everyone, "Don't panic. This tiger is one I keep to make my living, and it has been on a vegetarian diet for a long time." The villagers found this strange and gathered around to look. The tiger was indeed as gentle as a person. They offered it meat, but it would not eat. When they offered it wheat gluten and tofu, it swallowed them down as if it were eating butterflies. The news spread through the village, and people brought vegetarian dishes to see the tiger, until at last it grew weary of eating.

More than a month later, the villagers had grown used to the tiger, and it gradually ran out of things to eat. Jinyu thought to himself, "There are few people here, and they cannot afford to feed and clothe the two of us. It is better to go elsewhere and find another way to make a living." He made his way to Jinhua, hid the tiger in a mountain valley, and disguised himself as an immortal. He then announced loudly, "I can subdue tigers and make them calm. If you good patrons will raise one hundred taels of silver, I will build a thatched hermitage for you. If you gather the silver, I will ride the tiger out to show you."

The crowd replied, "If you can truly ride a tiger out here, we will give you the silver. We also want you to take disciples and teach us your skills, so we can protect ourselves if fierce tigers come to make trouble again."

Shortly after Jin Yu left, he sure enough came back riding a tiger. At first the people gathered there were terrified, but when they saw how gentle the tiger was, they pooled some silver and gave it to him. Jin Yu rode the tiger back into the mountains, and along the way he reflected: "This line of work beats chopping firewood. I suppose this tiger owed me a debt in a former life. By day it earns silver for me, and by night it becomes my wife. Now that I ride it about, no one who sees us thinks it strange. Would it not be better to go on to other prefectures and prefectures, earn more money, and become a wealthy man?" He then packed his belongings and led the tiger from place to place, earning money as he went. The journey was slowed by delays, and it took him a full year to reach Chuzhou. He had perhaps several hundred taels of silver on him, and his baggage was heavy, so it was no longer convenient to travel far. He rented a room locally and settled there.

As for the Daoist, after losing the tiger skin, he had no choice but to remain in the cave, barely getting by on the meager vegetarian fare, which was truly insufficient to sustain him. When he went outside the mountain, he could find nothing to stave off his hunger, and so he went hungry.

The Daoist lost his tiger skin and had no choice but to live in a cave, subsisting on a plain vegetarian diet, which was hardly enough to sustain him. When he ventured out of the mountains, he could find no food, and he grew so hungry that his back ached, his belly felt hollow, and his body became gaunt and bony. He reflected to himself: "Last year I wanted to save the woodcutter, but because I had lost my tiger skin I could not get there in time; later the woodcutter was dragged off by the tiger, which proved my words right after all. It seems this young lady put on my tiger skin and turned into a tiger. Now I must search the whole mountain for her, and when I find her I will demand that she return my tiger skin, lest I starve to death."

The Daoist leaned on a staff and wandered everywhere, asking everyone he met about this strange affair. When people heard of it, they passed the word along to one another, and seeing the Daoist searching far and wide for the tiger's whereabouts, they guessed where the tiger might be.

The Daoist followed the trail as far as Chuzhou, where he happened upon the tiger and Jin Yu sitting in front of a household's gate. The Daoist asked, "Miss Guo, what are you doing here? You have left me in a wretched state." When the tiger saw the Daoist, it walked over and sat down beside him, appearing quite familiar and affectionate. Jin Yu recognized the Daoist and stepped forward to bow, thanking him for the rescue the previous year. The neighbors did not understand the connection between them, and they crowded forward to ask questions, to which the Daoist replied casually.

Jin Yu invited the Daoist to a tavern for wine. After they sat down, the tavern attendant brought out the wine, and they drank several cups. The Daoist said to the tiger, "Miss Guo, I kindly left you in the cave, and I even intended to find this Mr. Jin and arrange your marriage. Why did you put on my tiger skin and do such a thing? You..."