by Pu Songling
But Feng contended, “Wang conceded his daughter to the Yu family, and hence his consent wasn’t necessary for the marriage agreement, which was properly signed—all he had with Huang was some drinks and a conversation.” Thus the magistrate couldn’t decide which claim had the greater priority, so he determined to leave the question up to Renzhen. Huang then spread some bribes around to other officials, begging them to take his side in the matter, and another month went by without any decision being rendered.
One day, a xiaolian, who was traveling northward to the capital for the civil service examinations being held there, was passing through Dongchang, so he sent someone to make inquiries about Wang Xinzhai. The servant happened to ask after Wang at the Yu family’s home, and Yu in turn questioned who was looking for Wang, whence he learned that the xiaolian was named Fu A-Mao.
According to the records in Fujian, he’d already passed the provincial level of the civil service examinations by the time he was eighteen. Because of the agreement made when he was still a child, he had never married. His mother had instructed him to visit Wang on his way northward, so he wanted to ask whether Wang’s daughter had ever been married or not.
Yu was overjoyed and invited Fu into his home, where he proceeded to relate to him all that had happened. However, since the young man was traveling from thousands of li away, Yu required evidence to verify his identity. Fu opened a small trunk and took out the marriage agreement that Wang had signed years earlier. Yu sent word for Wang to come. and upon examination, they found the document to be authentic, which pleased both of them immensely.
That same day, the case was officially reviewed in light of the new information as Fu A-Mao paid a visit to the magistrate, and the matter was resolved. Fu selected an auspicious day for the wedding and then resumed his journey.
Once the examinations were concluded, he spent lavishly on wedding gifts and then returned, staying at his family’s old house as he welcomed relatives arriving for the ceremony. The news that he’d been certified as a jinshi had already reached Fujian, then made its way to Dongchang. He was recalled to the capital to accept the post of guancheng, then headed back to Dongchang.
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Li: A distance equal to 1/3 mile.
Renzhen wasn’t happy about the idea of traveling south to Fujian, and Fu figured that he could tend to his father’s grave in Dongchang. Hence he went by himself to Fujian, where he prepared his father’s coffin to be transferred, then gathered up his mother and all her belongings and returned to Dongchang.
The collector of these strange tales remarks, “Is there a heroic advocate of some sort floating among the dragon gods? He praised benevolent deeds and castigated evil ones by wielding lightning bolts, like ‘Qiantang’s Dance of Vengeance,’ when he saved the Dragon King’s daughter. With the thundering of repeated strikes and events all taking place around a single person, how can we be sure that Renzhen wasn’t really the daughter of a Dragon King, exiled here on earth?”
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Jinshi: A successful candidate in the highest level of the imperial civil service examination.
Guancheng: A jinshi who is “assigned to a central government agency as a trainee, pending regular appointment to office” (Hucker 283).
‘Qiantang’s Dance of Vengeance’: The brother of the Dragon King in “The Dragon King’s Daughter,” a Tang dynasty (618-907) narrative, the volatile Qiantang goes on a devastating rampage when he hears how cruel the niece’s husband has been to her; his anger destroys 600,000 human beings.
481. Marquis Zhang
Peng Haoshi, from Jingzhou, was on his way home after having some drinks at a friend’s house. He’d just climbed down from his horse to have a piss while the horse bent down to graze some grass along the roadside. There was a lovely, fluffy clump of fine grass, where some yellow flowers were growing of such lush brightness that they dazzled the eyes, though the horse had already eaten more than half of them. Peng pulled the flower stalks from the ground and sniffed them, discovering them to have a most unusual scent, so he placed them in his robe.
He mounted his horse and rode off, with the horse speeding along at an incredibly thrilling gallop that gave him such a happy feeling, he didn’t think about what might be the best way home and let the horse run wherever it would. Suddenly he saw the sun setting over the mountains, so he pulled at the reins for the horse to stop, looking around at the massive mountains and realizing he had no idea where he was.
A man in light blue clothing came forward, helping to steady the neighing horse for Peng as he said, “The sky’s already growing dark, and the master will welcome you to stop and stay with us overnight.”
“Where is this place?” asked Peng.
“At Langzhong,” the horse replied.
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Jingzhou: Modern Hebei province’s Jiangling county.
Langzhong: The western portion of the county by this name in Sichuan province.
Peng was thoroughly astonished, for he and the horse had covered something like a thousand li in half a day, and hence he wondered, “Who is this master?”
“You’ll know when we arrive,” answered his horse. “How much further?”
“Very close now,” replied the man. Peng hung onto the horse’s halter as it sped along, just like they were flying.
They passed a mountain top, on half of which there were a series of tent pavilions, each like the others, decorated with various screens and heavy curtains, and in the distance they could see a pile of clothing with some servants near it. Upon their arrival there, Peng climbed down from the horse and exchanged respectful greetings with the servants.
Presently, the master came out, exhibiting a valiant, uncompromising spirit, and the cloth of his robe was clearly a material not from the mortal world. Turning to his guest, he saluted him with folded hands, declaring, “As my guest today, I hope you haven’t had to come terribly far, Master Peng.” Accordingly, he bowed in further deference to Peng, inviting him to precede him.
Peng humbly thanked him for his courtesy, but politely refused to walk ahead of his host. The man then grabbed Peng by the arm and they walked together. Peng’s arm felt like he’d had wooden handcuffs clamped on it, hurting like it was in danger of breaking, but he didn’t dare contradict his host again so he just kept walking.
Other guests arriving there experienced the same thing—when they tried to leave, the host either pushed them or held them firmly till they came in; all of the guests were groaning or stumbling, as though unable to bear any more of their host’s urgings.
They climbed the steps into a hall decorated with dazzlingly beautiful furnishings, where two guests were already arranged in seats at a banquet table. Peng privately asked the guest next to him, “What’s the name of the master here?”
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Li: A distance equal to 1/3 mile.
“It’s Zhang Huanhou,” he replied.
Peng was stunned, but dared not even cough in surprise. Accordingly, he just sat there quietly.
Once the wine had gone around, Marquis Zhang told him, “Year after year, after bothering you relatives and guests, I set up a simple wine table to treat you, as my expression of gratitude. But Peng, you’re a guest who’s happened to come from far away, so I’m honored that you’ve come to my humble home, and consider it my good fortune to meet you. I must also make a rash request of you, recognizing that you’ve hardly had time to know me and that I can’t force you to do it.”
Peng stood up and asked, “What is it?”
“Your riding horse has been changed into a creature containing the spirit of an immortal,” explained Marquis Zhang, “for no mere mortal could’ve ridden like that. I want your horse, so I’ll trade you for it—how about that?”
“Please take it as a gift from me,” Peng offered, “for I wouldn’t presume to trade with you for it.”
“In exchange for your horse, I’ll give you ten thousand taels,” replied his host. Peng pushed back from t
he banquet table, abjectly prostrating himself in gratitude. Marquis Zhang ordered a servant to pull Peng back up to his feet. Moments later, wine and food were provided in copious quantities.
Since the sun was setting, Zhang called for candles to be brought. The other guests stood up to take their leave, so Peng also said goodbye to his host. “You came all this way just to turn around and go home?” demanded Marquis Zhang.
Peng pointed out the man next to him and said, “I’ve already asked him to let me stay at his house tonight.”
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Zhang Huanhou: The plain-spoken, rough, feisty, hard-drinking Zhang Fei (d. 221 C.E.), one of the Three Kingdoms-era “peach garden oath” heroes allied with the kingdom of Shu, was given the title “Marquis of Huan” (huanhou, 桓侯) following his burial at Langzhong.
Marquis Zhang then filled his guests’ enormous cups with wine, remarking to Peng, “The fragrant sweetgrass in your robe can be ingested while it’s fresh to make a creature immortal, and once it’s dried to allow one to point and turn things to gold; seven stalks of the grass are enough to produce ten thousand taels.” He ordered a boy servant to take that number of sweetgrass stalks and give them to Peng.
Peng in response gratefully acknowledged his host’s munificence. “Tomorrow you can go to the marketplace,” announced the Marquis, “and select the finest horse there, but you mustn’t haggle over price—it’s my gift to you.” Then he said to the other guests, “Our faraway guest will be leaving for home, so you could offer him a little something by way of traveling expenses.” The others heartily agreed to do so.
After draining their cups, they all expressed their thanks and stepped outside. As they walked along the road, Peng asked the name of his fellow banqueter, and learned he was Liu Zihui. They wandered together for two or three li till they came within sight of a cottage. The group and Peng had arrived at Liu’s home, where he began to relate some strange details to them.
Originally, his village had held a festival every year, wherein they made sacrifices at the Marquis Zhang Temple, dramatically cutting up some excellent quality meats; for his part in this regular ritual, Liu always offered sacrifices of superior quality. The latest festival had concluded three days earlier. At noon that day, a man came to each family in the village to invite them to come up into the mountains. When they asked him why, he seemed distracted or disoriented, but then sincerely clutched at them and told them to hurry up.
Upon ascending the mountain, they found a pavilion and other buildings, which astonished them all. Just as they arrived at the property’s gates, the man who’d invited them verified that they’d reached their destination; no one in the group dared turn back at that point. “Now that you’re gathered here,” the messenger informed them, “you can join us in greeting a traveler who’s come from far away to visit.” That’s when Peng first appeared.
They all expressed their astonishment at the turn of events. Each of them who’d been grabbed by Marquis Zhang claimed that their arms hurt; when they held up a candle, they discovered that the skin and flesh of their arms were bruised bluish-black. Peng examined himself, too. The others all fled while Liu invited Peng inside and provided him with a place to sleep.
The next morning, in the village, everyone was contending to detain Liu’s guest; then Peng and Liu entered the marketplace together to begin looking over the horses. Ten days later, after having examined several dozen animals, they were upset that none of them seemed truly special; Peng was ready to abandon the search, since he remained indifferent to what he’d seen. But when they next returned to the market, he saw a horse that appeared to be quite distinctive; he took it out for a ride to test it and found it to be an incomparably vigorous steed. He returned to the village to find its owner; but when he went to search for the fellow, he discovered that the man had disappeared.
Then he wished to take his leave from the other villagers and return home. They each gave him some gifts of gold or money and he subsequently went on his way.
Peng’s horse proved able to travel five hundred li in a single day. As soon as he arrived home, he described the place where he’d been, but no one would believe him. Then when he took a Shu-era artifact out of his bag, they started to believe that something strange had occurred indeed.
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Shu-era artifact: The kingdom of Shu (蜀), seat of loyalists to the Han dynasty, contended for power with the kingdoms of Wu (吴) and Wei (魏) during the Three Kingdoms period (220-280 C.E.). The heroic Zhang Fei, along with Liu Bei and Guan Yu, fought on behalf of Shu.
The sweetgrass that he’d hidden in his robe had long since dried, and since there were exactly seven stalks there, he obeyed the Marquis’s instructions and turned them into taels, making his family suddenly rich. Then, wishing to pay his respects, he went alone to offer sacrifices at a Marquis Zhang Temple, where he performed his sacrifices freely for three days before returning home.
The collector of these strange tales remarks, “Considering the feast that Marquis Zhang held for his guests, it’s no longer dubious whether or not the god of Mt. Wuyi went out through his rainbow bridge to meet people at the mountain’s pavilions. While their host behaved respectfully towards his guests, inviting them for an amiable reception, he nearly broke Peng’s arm—for in his prime of life, Marquis Zhang was as brave and powerful a man as anyone might imagine someone to be.”
Wu Muxin reports, “There was a scholar named Li whose lips didn’t cover his front teeth, exposing them to the air with a gap the size of a full finger’s breadth. One day, he took part in someone’s celebration where two guests were modestly declining as each invited the other to enter first. One of them pulled his fellow guest’s arm strongly, while the other man was trying to refuse and stay where he was.
“When the first man’s hand slipped off, it caused the second man’s elbow to smack Li, who’d happened to be standing just behind him, consequently knocking out Li’s two front teeth and causing blood to drip from his wounded mouth. Everyone there was stunned, and the conflict between the two dinner guests came to an abrupt halt.”
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God of Mt. Wuyi: Mt. Wuyi is located near the northern border of Fujian province, which it shares with Jaingxi province. The rainbow bridge, and the local god’s association with it, are part of Daoist tradition.
Wu Muxin: Zhu (3:1633n23) identifies this Wu also as Wu Changrong, from Changshan (modern Zouping county, in Shandong province).
This account is like the story of Marquis Zhang grabbing Peng’s arm—both are good for a laugh.
482. Fendie
Yang Yuedan was a scholar from Qiongzhou. He happened to be returning from another county in a boat when it encountered a hurricane and was on the verge of capsizing; suddenly an empty boat came floating by, so he quickly leapt over to it. When he looked back, he saw that the first boat had sunk. The wind began blowing ever more fiercely, till it was impossible for him to keep his eyes open as it blasted, the gale taking him wherever it would.
Eventually the wind calmed. Once Yang was finally able to open his eyes, he instantly spotted an island with a number of houses all connected together. He grasped an oar and made for shore, then walked straight to the village gates. The village was entirely quiet, so he went and sat down for a good long while, but there was no sound at all, neither chickens nor dogs.
He noticed a gate facing north, surrounded by luxuriant growth of pines and bamboo. At the time he was there, it was already winter, yet there were buds flowering on a tree inside the village walls, though he couldn’t identify what kind of tree it was. The sight, however, delighted him, so he lingered a bit longer there before entering the village.
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Qiongzhou: A prefecture in Pu’s time, now known as Hainan Island, south of Qiongshan county in Guangdong province.
Yang heard the sound of a qin playing in the distance, but as he took a few steps in its direction, the music momentarily hesitated. A maidservant appeared then, looking
to be about fourteen or fifteen and absolutely gorgeous. Upon seeing Yang, she turned around and ran back inside.
Presently the qin music ceased altogether, and a young man came out, asking in surprise where Yang had come from. Yang then recounted the events that had brought him there. The young man inquired in turn about his homeland and his family, so Yang also answered those questions. Looking very pleased, the young man replied, “We’re related by marriage.” Then, bowing politely to Yang, he invited him to enter his courtyard.
There was a magnificent villa inside the courtyard, and it was from somewhere within it that he heard the qin playing again. Upon entering the villa, they observed a young woman sitting upright, adjusting the tension of her instrument’s strings, who must have been eighteen or nineteen, a resplendent, graceful beauty. As Yang entered, she pushed away the qin and seemed suddenly quite unhappy.
The young man stopped her from leaving by saying, “Don’t run off—he’s one of your family’s relatives.” Accordingly, he explained the nature of their relationship.
“So you’re my nephew,” she noted. “Is grandmother still in good health? How old are your parents now?”
Yang replied, “My parents are over forty now, but both of them are in good health; even though grandmother’s only sixty, she’s been sick for a long time, so she has to have someone help her just to walk around. If I’m your nephew, I really don’t know which side of the family you’re from, so please tell me, so I can inform everyone when I get home.”
“Since we live so far apart,” the young woman replied, “news stopped passing between us a long time ago. When you return home, tell your father, ‘Shiniang inquired about you,’ and he’ll know what that means.”