Pu SongLing / Strange Tales from the Make-Do Studio
PU SONGLING / STRANGE TALES FROM MAKE-DO STUDIO
TRANSALTED BY DENIS C. & VICTOR H. MAIR
1989 FOREIGN LANGUE PRESS, BEIJING
The Gengs of Taiyuan were an aristocratic family of long standing
who lived in an enormous manor. Eventually their fortunes declined
and half of the rambling complex of storiedbuildings and living
quarters was left desolate. This gave rise to hauntings: the door
to the main hall often opened and closed by itself, and the
household members repeatedly broke the night stillness with
terrified cries.
Geng found this so disturbing that he moved to a contry residence,
leaving an old caretaker to watch the gate. From then on the place
became even more neglected and overgrown. Laughter and music could
sometimes be heard within. Geng had a nephew named Sickness-free,
who was a wild, uninhibited youth. The nephew instructed the
caretaker to report anything he saw or heard without delay. One
night lamplight was seen flicking in one of the storied buildings.
When the caretaker rushed to inform him of this, the scholar wanted
to enter the building and observe the disturbances. Attempts to
dissuade him were in vain. He had long been familiar with the
layout of the buildings, but this time he had pushed a circuitous
way through thick mugworts and brambles. He climbed to the upper
story of one building without seeeing anything suspicious. Passing
through the building, his ears caught the sibilance of human
speech.
Peeking into a room lighted in daylike brilliance by a pair
of large candles, he saw a man in a scholar's cap seated facing a
woman at the south of the room. Both were in their forties. On the
east side was a young man, probally in his twenties, and on his
right was a young woman who had just reached the hairpin age of
fifteen. They sat talking jovially around a table laden with meat
and wine. The scholar barged in and cried out laughingly:
"An uninvited guest has arrived."
The frighted group ran to hide. The old man alone came out and
asked in rebuking tones:
"Who are you that you dare to enter other people's private
chambers?"
"These are my family's chambers,"said the scholar. "You have taken
them over. You drink exquiste wine by yourselves without so much as
asking the master of the house to join you. Aren't you pushing your
stinginess to far?"
"You are not the master of the house," said the old man, inspecting
him with a sidelong glance.
"I am the way ward scholar Geng Sickness-Free, nephew of the master
of this house."
The old man utterewd a respectful greeting: "I've long looked up to
your luminosity!"
After bowing the scholar into the room, he called on his servants
to replace the food on the table. The scholare stopped him, so the
old man poured wine for his guest.
The scholar said, " There is friendship between our families, so
the guest who were just at table need not remain separate. I
earnestly hope you will call then back to have a drink."
"Xiao-er!" called the old man. A young man came quickly from
outside. The older man said, "This is my humble child." The youth
bowed and sat down. The conversation opened with inquires into each
others backgrounds. The older man volunteered:
"My foster-father is surnamed Fox."
The scholar had always been outgoing, and his conversation sparked
with wit. Xiao-er, too had and easy, charming, manner. In the
course of the fourthright conversation, each felt attached to the
other. The scholar, being twenty-one years old, was two years older
then his friend, so he addressed Xiao-er as a younger brother.
The old man spoke up: "I've heard that your grandfather compiled
"The Legends of Tushan."[*1] do you know about it?"
"Yes I do."
"I am descended from the Tushan line," said the old man. "I can
remember my family tree to as far back as the Tang dynasty
(618-906), but there are no records of our linage from the Five
dynasties[*2] period and before. I would feel fortunate if you
could impart some of what you know."
The scholar gave a brief account of the assistance which the maid
of Tushan had rendered to Emperor Yu. He embellished the new story
with many fine phrases, and his flow of captivating thoughts gushed
forth like a spring. The old man said to his son in great delight:
"This is a chance to hear what we've never heard before. The young
gentleman is not an outsider: go ahead and ask your mother and
Qingfeng to listen with us, so they too will know of my ancestor's
glory." Xiao-er went behind a curtain. In a moment the woman
appeared with the girl. Geng took a good long look at her. Her
dainty poise breathed loveliness, and her eyes rippled with
brilliance like autumn pools. Nowhere in the world of men was such
beauty to be seen.
The old man pointed first to his wife then to the girl:
"This is my old wife, and this is my neice, Qingfeng. She has quite
a head on her shoulders. She always remembers everything she hears
and sees, so I called her hear to listen."
After the scholar finshed telling his tale the drinking began. He
turned his eyes to the young woman and let his gaze rest upon her.
Sensing his glance she did nothing but lower her head. The scholar
furtively placed his foot on her lotus-like slipper. She drew her
foot quickly away, but gave no sign of displeasure. The scholar
roving thoughs robbed him of self-command. With a slap on the table
he blurted:
"If I had a wife like this, I would not trade places with a king
facing south on his throne!"
Seeing the scholar become even more boisterous as he succumbed to
the wine, the woman and the girl rose, hurriedly parted the curtain
and left the room. The disappointed scholar took leave of the old
man and departed, but the threads of affection tugged at his heart,
and he could not rid his thought of Qingfeng.
At nightfall the next day he went back to the manor. Her
orchid-musk remained in the air. He passed the night absorbed in
waiting, but not so much as a cough of hers was heard. Returning
home, he broached to his wife his plan to take the family there and
stay, in hopes of having an encounter. Since his wife did not
assent, he went alone. That night, as he sat reading at the desk in
the lower story of the mansion, a wild-haired ghost with a
lacquer-black face entered and stared wide-eyed at him. He
laughingly dipped his fingers in freshly-rubbed ink, smeared it on
his face and looked back at the ghost with a burning gaze. The
ghost left in shame.
Late the following night he had blowen out his candle and was about
to retire when he heard a bolt sliding open in the rear of his
mansion, followed by the thud of an opening door. He rushed to take
a look. A doorleaf was standing ajar. There wasa sudden pattering
of slippers, and the light of a candle shone from inside. He saw
that it was Qingfeng. Frightened at the unexpected sight of the
scholar, she backed away and slammed the double-leaved door. The
scholar knelt upright before her door and delivered his plea:
It was for your sake that I did not shrink from danger. By good
fourtune no one else was here. If you were to grant me just once
the joy of a touch of your hand, I would face death itself without
regret."
The girl spoke through the intervening door: "Do not suppose that
I know nothing of the heart-gripping longing you feel, but my uncle
raised me by a stern code of womanly conduct: I dare not obey your
wish."
The scholar kept pleading, nevertheless:
I do not prsume to hope for bodily intimacy: is would be enough
just see your face."
The girl seemed amenable to this. She opened the door and came out.
In a paroxysm of delight the scholar took her arm and drew hew into
the mansion, where he sat her on his lap and embraced her.
"It is fortunate that fate has brought us together," said the girl.
"But now matter how much we yearn for each other, it will do us no
good after tonight."
"Why is that?" asked the scholar.
"Your wildness frightened my uncle, so he disguised himself as a
fierce ghost to frighten you, but you were not fazed. Now he has
found another place to live. The whole family has taken our
belongings and moved to our new home. They left me here to watch
the place, but I have to leave tomarow."
Then she rose to leave,saying:
"I'm afraid my uncle will come back."
The scholar, who wanted to enjoy himself with her, did his utmost
to detain her. The matter was still under discussion when her uncle
entered stealthily. The shamed, frighted girl would have crawled
into a hole had there been one handy. She bowed her head and leaned
against the bed, wordlessly fingering her sash.
"You are a disgrace to my family, you cheap chamber maid!" Roared
the uncle.
"If you don't get out of here now, I'll speed you on your way with
a whip." The girl rushed from the room, her head lowered ajectly,
and her uncle followed. As the scholar trailed behind themlisting,
the old man raving curses and Qingfeng'd muffled sobs pierced his
heart.
"I am the guilty one," he shouted after them. "This is not
Qingfeng's fault. If you'll be lenient with her, I'll gladly bear
any punishment, be it by sword, saw, hatchet or axe."
All sounds died down into prolonged silence. The scholar went back
to bed. From this time on not a breath of noise was heard in the
mannor. The scholar's uncle, amazed by the news of these events,
agreed to sell the mannor to his nephew without haggleing over
price. The scholar was delighted: he moved into the mannor with his
family. They lived there quite comforably for more then a year, but
the scholar never forgot Qingfeng.
Then, while retuning from the family graves on Tomb Sweeping day,
he happened to see to small foxes closely pursued by hounds. One of
them ducked into the brush, but the other was so frighted it kept
running on the road. Seeing the scholar, it clung to his side
whinning pathetically, ears folded back and head hanging, as if to
beg for help. The scholar's pity was aroused. He loosened his robe,
picked up the fox and carried it home in his arms. When he closed
the door to his room and out it onto the bed, it turned into
Qingfeng. What joy he felt! He consoled her and asked how she had
come to this pass.
"Just now I was out frolicking with a maid servant, when this
terrrible calamity threatened us. If it had not been for you, I
would be buried now in a dogs stomach. I hope you dont hate me for
not being one of your kind."
The scholar replied," My constant yearing for you intrudes into the
dreams of my soul. Seeing you is like discovering a precious
treasure. How can you say "hate"?
"This meeting is fixed by the working of fate. If it had not been
for that near calamity, how could I be able to serve you?
Fortunately for us, the maidservant will surly think I'm dead. Now
we can hold fast to out enternal vow."
With joy in his heart the scholar set the girl up in rooms separte
from his family. Two years passed. One night the scholar was in the
middle of his reading when Xiao-er came into his room. The startled
scholar put down his book and asked the reason for his coming.
Xiao-er prostrated himself and said woefully:
"My father is facing an unexpected diaster. Only you can save him.
he would have come to plead with you himself, but he feared you
would not grant his request, so he sent me."
"Well, what is it?" asked the scholar.
"Do you know Mo the third Son?"
"He is the son of a man who took examinations the year I did," said
the scholar.
Xiao-er said, "He will pass by here tomarrow. If he is carrying a
fox taken in the hunt, please ask him to leave it here."
"The shame your father subjected me to in the mansion still burns
in my heart. Let me hear no more of what does not concern me. If
you insist on my doing what little I can, I will do only if
Qingfeng comes to me first!"
"Cousin Qingfeng died in the field three years ago!" Xiao-er
sniffed as he spoke.
The scholar retorted with a sweep of his sleeve, "If so my
resentments is so much the greater!"
He picked up his book and loudly intoned a poem, without lifting
his gaze in the slightest. Xiao-er rose and cried himself hoarse,
then walked out, hiding his face in his hands. The scholar went to
Qingfeng's room to let her know.
"Will you save him or not?" she asked, her face gone pale.
"I'll save him all right. My refusal just now was my way of
repaying his past spitefulness."
At this the girl brightened: "I was orphaned at an early age, but
my uncle took me in and raised me. Though he once offended you,
that was only because of the family discipline he had demanded of
me."
"True, said the scholar. "But one can't help holding it against
him."
"You really are hard-hearted!" she said with a laugh.
Sure enough, Mo the third Son showed up the next day sporting
engraved harness ornaments, a bowcase of tiger skin and an
impressive entourage. Meeting him at the gate, the scholar saw that
he had bagged a fair amount of game. Amoung it was a black fox,
still warm to the touch, its fur matted with dark red blood. The
scholar asked to have it, claiming that he needed the pelt to patch
his worn fur coat. Mo parted with it magnanimously.
The scholar turned it over to Qingfeng and drank wine with his guest. When the guest had gone, the girl held the fox in her arms. After three days
it came back to life. Then, through several stages, it changed back
into her uncle.
Qingfeng was the first to meet his eyes when he looked up, which led him to suspect that he was no longer in the world of men. When the girl had gone through the true story, he bowed down and stammered an apology for his past offence. That done, he turned beamingly to the girl and said.
"I kept saying that you weren't dead: now it turns out that I was
right!"
The girl said to the scholar: "I also beg you, if you care for me,
to give us the use of a building, so that I can care for the one
who has cared for me." The scholar assented.
The old man then excused himself blushingly and left. That night he
returned with his whole family. From then on they lived like one
big family, all ill feelings left in the past. The scholar lived a
secluded life in his studio, but Xiao-er frequently joined him for
wine and conversation. As the son born to scholar's wife grew
older, Xiao-er was asked to act as tutor, because he was taught
with skill and patience and conducted himself as a teacher should.
1 Based on the mythological marriage of an ancient ruler Yu with a
nine-tailed vixen from Tushan of Anhui province.
2 Not the Five dynasties period usually referred to (907-960), but
the one (420-618) before the Tang dynasty.
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