Zhou Shi 周式

Zhou Shi lived in Xiapei under the Han. He once travelled to Donghai, and along the way he encountered a clerk, carrying a book, who asked for a lift on his carriage. After they had travelled a little over ten li, he spoke to Shi: “I have to pay a quick visit. I will leave my book in the gentleman’s care. See that you do not open it.” When he had departed, Shi stealthily opened and examined the book. It recorded all of the people’s deaths, and Shi’s name was right there in the lower column. Before long the clerk returned, and Shi was still looking at the book. The clerk addressed him angrily: “This is why I told you! Why would you suddenly start to look at it?” Shi kowtowed until blood flowed from his head. After some time of this the clerk told him: “I am grateful that the gentleman brought me so far, but this book cannot be altered. The gentleman will depart today. Go home. Do not leave your door for three years, and you will be reprieved. Do not speak of having seen my book.” Shi returned home and did not leave.

More than two years passed. His family all thought this very strange. When a neighbour passed away, his father became very angry, and ordered him to go to mourn, leaving Shi unable to refuse. When he passed through the gate, he immediately encountered the clerk, who told him: “I ordered you not to leave for three years, but today you emerge from your gate. What option do I have? I tried to prevent you looking, and arranged a continuous punishment, but now I see you, and have no choice. In three days’ time, we will come for you.” Shi returned weeping, and recounted the whole matter. His father still did not believe him, but his mother watched over him, weeping day and night. When high noon arrived on the third day, they did indeed take him, and he died immediately.

From Fayuanzhulin.

Li Fang 李昉, et al., Taiping guangji 太平廣記 (Extensive Gleanings from the Era of Great Harmony), 10 vols (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1961), vii, 316.2504:

周式

漢下邳周式。嘗至東海。道逢一吏。持一卷書。求寄載。行十餘里。謂式曰。吾暫有所過。留書寄君船中。慎勿發之。去後。式盜發視書。皆諸死人錄。下條有式名。須臾吏還。式猶視書。吏怒曰。故以相告。何忽視之。式扣頭流血。良久曰。感卿遠相載。此書不可除。卿今日已去。還家。三年勿出門。可得度也。勿道見吾書。式還不出。已二年餘。家皆怪之。鄰人卒亡。父怒。使往弔之。式不得止。適出門。便見此吏。吏曰。吾令汝三年勿出。而今出門。知復奈何。吾求不見。連相為得鞭杖。今已見汝。無可奈何。後三日日中。當相取也。式還涕泣。具道如此。父故不信。母晝夜與相守涕泣。至三日日中時。見來取。便死。出法苑珠林

Zhu Yanshou 朱延壽

In his latter years, the governor of Shouzhou Zhu Yanshou was once bathing in his chamber when he saw two people outside his window. Both had dark faces, vermillion hair and black robes, and grasped books in their hands. One of them said: “I have accepted an order [2797] to come and fetch him.” Another said: “I too have accepted an order to come and fetch him.” One said: “I received the order first.” Yanshou then called out to those attending him. The pair immediately vanished. When his attendants arrived, they all said there had not been anyone there at all. Before long, he was dead.

From Jishenlu.

Li Fang 李昉, et al., Taiping guangji 太平廣記 (Extensive Gleanings from the Era of Great Harmony), 10 vols (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1961), viii, 353.2796-97:

朱延壽

壽州刺史朱延壽。末年。浴於室中。窺見窗外有二人。皆青面朱髮青衣。手執文書。一人曰。我受命 [2797] 來取。一人曰。我亦受命來取。一人又曰。我受命在前。延壽因呼侍者。二人即滅。侍者至。問外有何人。皆云無人。俄而被殺。出稽神錄

Ghost Burial鬼葬

Forty li west of Xupu County in Chenzhou is Bury-Ghost Mountain. The Huangmin yuanchuanji[1] states that there is a coffin among the crags, which, visible at some distance, could be more than ten zhang (i.e., 33m) in length. It is known as the ruin of a ghostly burial. The venerable elders tell of how ghosts built the coffin, and for seven days the daylight grew dim. All they could hear was the sounds of hatchets and chisels. Human households had not noticed that they had lost their blades and axes, but when on the seventh day the skies cleared, the missing things all returned to their owners. The chisels and axes were all greasy and stank of raw meat. When they looked at it, the coffin lay with solemn dignity along the side of the ridge.

From Qiawenji

Li Fang 李昉, et al., Taiping guangji 太平廣記 (Extensive Gleanings from the Era of Great Harmony), 10 vols (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1961), viii 351.2782:

鬼葬

辰州漵浦縣西四十里。有鬼葬山。黃閔沅川記云。其中巖有棺木。遙望可長十餘丈。謂鬼葬之墟。故老云。鬼造此棺。七日晝昏。唯聞斧鑿聲。人家不覺失器物刀斧。七日霽。所失之物。悉還其主。鐺斧皆有肥膩腥臊。見此棺儼然。橫據岸畔。出洽聞記

[1] I haven’t yet identified this text.

Zhang Jian 張簡

Teaching Assistant to the Tang Imperial Academy Zhang Jian was from Koushi in Henan. He once gave a lecture at a provincial school on ‘Selected Literature’. A fox sprite took on Jian’s form, delivered a lecture on a book, and then departed. When Jian arrived soon after, his pupils were bewildered and asked him about it. Jian was surprised and said: “The former must have been a fox sprite.” He cancelled the lecture and returned to his rooms. He saw his younger sister sitting winding silk, and she spoke to Jian: “The food I have just cooked is cold; why has elder brother come so late?” Jian seated himself but after waiting for a long time his food still didn’t arrive. He reproached his sister, but she said: “I didn’t see you arrive in the first place; it must have been that fox sprite. If we see it again, kill it!” He came back the next day. He saw his younger sister sitting winding silk, and she spoke to Jian: “The demon has just gone behind the rooms.” Jian took up a cudgel. He saw his real younger sister emerging from the toilet, and attacked her. His sister screamed “It’s me!” Jian did not believe her, and he beat her to death. When he went to ask the silk-winder, she immediately turned into a fox and departed.

From Chaoye qianzai.

Li Fang 李昉, et al., Taiping guangji 太平廣記 (Extensive Gleanings from the Era of Great Harmony), 10 vols (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1961), ix, 447.3658:

張簡

唐國子監助教張簡,河南緱氏人也。曾為鄉學講《文選》。有野狐假簡形,講一紙書而去。須臾簡至,弟子怪問之。簡異曰:「前來者必野狐也。」講罷歸舍,見妹坐絡絲,謂簡曰:「適煮菜冷,兄來何遲?」簡坐,久待不至,乃責其妹。妹曰:「元不見兄來,此必是野狐也。更見即殺之!」明日又來。見妹坐絡絲,謂簡曰:「鬼魅適向舍後。」簡遂持棒。見真妹從廁上出來,遂擊之。妹號叫曰:「是兒。」簡不信,因擊殺之。問絡絲者,化為野狐而走。出朝野僉載

Discarding Fame and Studying the Way 棄名學道

Chen Shunqing was from Jiangnan. In order to sit the civil examinations he went to Chang’an, and spent a decade there without returning. One day, he called on a monk at the Qinglong Monastery, but, unable to meet him, he waited in the warming room, where there was an old man from Zhongnanshan who was also waiting for a monk. They sat for a long time. On the wall was a Huanyingtu map, and Shunqing searched for the Jiangnan route, sighing “If I could return from here, I would not regret being without success.” The old man said: “This is a simple thing.” He arose and snapped a leaf from the bamboo standing before the step, placed it on the Wei River, and said: “Fix your eyes on this, and you will get what you desire.” Shunqing stared hard at the Wei River, seeing violent waves and a heavy swell, and an extremely large boat; it was as if he boarded the boat, which set off at high speed, travelling to the Chanku Monastery, where he inscribed a poem, which read:

Bells sound when the night breeze grows urgent,

Tumultuous crows also [149] gather to gaze on the winter forest.

Hold now the oars in sadness and sigh,

A lone lotus flower towering like a mountain peak.

The next day, he arrived at Tongguan, and composed another poem, which read:

Bringing shame by planning to return home,

Overcoming the shame of failing to return.

When he arrived at his home, his wife and children received him with great delight. He stayed for two nights, and then said: “The examination period is pressing close; I must not stay long.” He then boarded the boat again, composing a poem of farewell to his wife:

Wine increases sorrow with each sip;

Completing a poem I mix chanting with tears.

He floated away, his family stunned and stupefied, saying that he was a ghost. He arrived suddenly at the Wei River, and hurried to the Qinglong Monastery. The monk had still not returned, and the old man of the mountain was still sitting wrapped in his coarse clothing. Shunqing said: “Can that not have been a dream?” The old man said: “You’ll understand this yourself in the coming days.” After a month had passed, his family came to visit, narrating all that had happened, reciting all of the poems he had inscribed there. Chen later achieved enlightenment, having no wish to pursue an official post, but entering Zhongnanshan, remaining as a hermit and never emerging again.

Anon., Huhai xinwen yijian xuzhi, 後1.148-49 (Tale 260):

棄名學道

陳舜卿,江南人。舉進士,至長安,十年不歸。一日,於青龍寺訪僧不值,憩於火閣,有終南山翁,亦俟僧。坐久之,壁間有《寰瀛圖》,舜卿尋江南路,歎曰:「得自此歸,不悔無成。」翁曰:「此易耳。」起折階前竹葉置渭水中,曰:「注目於此,則如願。」舜卿熟視,見渭水波濤洶湧,一舟甚大,怳然而登舟,其去極速,行次禪窟寺,題詩云:「霜鍾鳴時夕風急,亂鴉(「鴉」,原作「雅」,今改。)又 [149] 望寒林集。此時輟棹悲且吟,獨坐蓮華一峰立。」明日,次潼關,又作詩云:「已作羞歸計,猶勝羞不歸。」及至其家,妻子迎見甚喜。信宿,曰:「試期已逼,不可久留。」乃復登舟,作詩別妻曰:「酒至添愁飲,詩成和淚吟。」 飄然而去。家人驚愕,謂為鬼物。倏忽復至渭水,趨青龍寺,僧猶未歸,山翁猶擁褐而坐。舜卿曰:「豈非夢耶?」翁曰:「〔他日〕(據明刻本補。)自知之。」 經月,家人來訪,具述所以,題詩宛然皆在。陳後頓悟,不圖仕宦,而入終南山,隱而不出。

Yuan Haowen 元好問, Chang Zhenguo 常振國 (ed), Xu Yijian zhi 續夷堅志 (Continued Records of the Listener), and Anon., Jin Xin 金心 (ed.), Huhai xinwen yijian xuzhi 湖海新聞夷堅續志 (Continuation of Records of the Listener with New Items from the Lakes and Seas) (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1986).

A version of the same tale is found in Taiping Guangji, vol. ii, 74.462-63:

Chen Jiqing 陳季卿

Chen Jiqing’s home was in Jiangnan. He said farewell to his household for a decade and took the civil examinations, determined not to return without having succeeded. He lodged in the capital, selling books to keep himself clothed and fed and frequently visiting the monks at the Qinglong Monastery. Once it happened that the monk was elsewhere, so he rested in the warming room in order to wait for him. There was an old man from Zhongnanshan who was also waiting for a monk, sitting by the stove, and he bowed to Jiqing and beckoned him to the fire. They sat for a long time. He addressed Jiqing, saying: “It is already late afternoon. Are you not very hungry?” Jiqing said: “Starving, to be honest, but the monk is not here yet, so what can be done?” The old man untied a small bag from within his sleeve and took out about a cun (c.3.3cm) piece of medicine, simmering it in a cup of water and handing it to Jiqing, saying: “This will allay your hunger slightly.” After sipping it to the end, he was satisfied and comfortable, the suffering of hunger being washed away he felt much better. On the eastern wall there was a Huanyingtu map, and Shunqing searched for the Jiangnan route, and let out a long sigh, saying: “If I could float from the Wei River to the Yellow River, swim to the Luohe River, on to the Huai and cross to the Yangtze, I would reach my home, and I would not regret returning without achievement.” The old man laughed and said: “This is not so hard to achieve.” He ordered a novice to break a leaf from the bamboo standing in front of the step. Making a boat from the leaf, he placed it on the map, on top of the Wei River, and said: “The gentleman should fix his eyes on this boat, and he will receive that which he has been desiring, even arriving at his home, but should take care not to linger there too long.” Jiqing stared hard at it for a long time, gradually coming to feel the waves of the Wei River, as the single leaf grew large and became an extended sail. [463] Suddenly, it was as if he had boarded the boat, which set off from the Wei to the Yellow River, mooring at the Chanku Monastery, where he inscribed a poem on the southern pillar:

Bells sound when the night breeze grows urgent,

Tumultuous crows also gather to gaze on the winter forest.

Hold now the oars in sadness and sigh,

A lone lotus flower towering like a mountain peak.

The next day, he arrived at Tongguan, and disembarked. He inscribed another poem on the door of the Putongyuan to the east of the pass gates, and this read:

Crossing the Pass ashamed by failed ambition,

Myriad unfinished matters disturb my thoughts.

Downslope a horse lacks strength,

Sweeping the gate dust fills my robes.

Many schemes and plans unfulfilled,

Heart and mouth unable to agree.

Bringing shame by planning to return home,

Overcoming the shame of failing to return.

From Shandong the places he passed through were all just as he had desired. After ten days he arrived at his home, and his wife, children and brothers bowed and welcomed him at the gate. That evening he composed the poem ‘Gazing Late at the River Pavilion’, inscribing it in the study. It read:

Standing facing the river pavilion, eyes filled with sorrow,

Dedicated ten years before to distant and long-term service.

Field and garden are already scattered like floating clouds,

Home village peace swept away like flowing water.

Meeting nobody on the river other than elderly anglers,

On the banks both old friends and sandpipers are hard to find.

It is not through old age; dusk does not yet approach,

Chanting to the distant peaks and bowing the white head.

That evening he spoke to his wife: “The examination period approaches.” He stayed for two nights, and then said: “The examination period is pressing close; I must not stay long.” He then boarded the boat again, composing a poem of farewell to his wife:

Cold dew lies white in slanting moonlight,

Tonight I depart and leave my heart behind.

Wine increases sorrow with each sip;

Completing a poem I chant through tears.

The farewell song perches in the phoenix flute,

The crane laments parting on the jade zither.

In the clear night I pine for this place,

The autumn wind rippling my half blanket.

As he was about to board the boat, he left another poem for his brothers, which read:

I have planned this for a long time,

It can only be fate delaying so far.

Old friends are all distant and detached,

My own path still leading into the distance.

The north wind leaves fine flakes of snow,

These declining years are a time of clouds.

Melancholy and regret lie pure on the riverbank,

This humble self is rich in time.

After the first watch (7-9pm) he again boarded the leaf boat, floating away as his wife, children, brothers and family wept and wailed on the riverbank, saying that he must have been a ghost. The leaf boat rippled along, following his previous route and arriving at Weibin. He then hired a ride and travelled back to the Qinglong Monastery. It seemed that the monk was still sitting wrapped in his coarse clothing. Jiqing thanked him, saying: “I returned and have come back. Can that not have been a dream?” The old man laughed and said: “You’ll understand this after sixty days, but now it is late, and the monk has still not come.” The old man departed and Jiqing returned to his host. After two months had passed, his wife and children sent gold and silks and came from Jiangnan, saying that Jiqing had passed away, and they had therefore come to visit. His wife said: “You returned on such-and-such a day of such-and-such a month. That evening you composed a poem in the study. You also left two poems behind, so I came to realise that this was not a dream.”

The next spring Jiqing failed the examinations and returned to the east. Arriving at Chanku and the Guanmen Buddhist temple, he saw the two pieces he had inscribed there; the ink was still fresh. The following year Jiqing passed the examinations, but fasted and entered Zhongnanshan.

Taken from Muyiji (Esteeming the Unusual: A Record)[1]

[1] Li Fang 李昉, et al., Taiping guangji 太平廣記 (Extensive Gleanings from the Period of Great Harmony), 10 vols (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1961), ii, 74.462-63:

陳季卿

陳季卿者。家於江南。辭家十年。舉進士。志不能無成歸。羇棲輦下。鬻書判給衣食。常訪僧於青龍寺。遇僧他適。因息於暖閣中。以待僧還。有終南山翁。亦伺僧歸。方擁爐而坐。揖季卿就爐。坐久。謂季卿曰。日已晡矣。得無餒乎。季卿曰。實飢矣。僧且不在。為之奈何。翁乃於肘後解一小囊。出藥方寸。止煎一杯。與季卿曰。粗可療飢矣。季卿啜訖。充然暢適。飢寒之苦。洗然而愈。東壁有寰瀛圖。季卿乃尋江南路。因長歎曰。得自渭泛於河。遊於洛。泳於淮。濟于江。達于家。亦不悔無成而歸。翁笑曰。此不難致。乃命僧童折堦前一竹葉。作葉舟。置圖中渭水之上。曰。公但注目於此舟。則如公向來所願耳。然至家。愼勿久留。季卿熟視久之。稍覺渭水波浪。一葉漸大。席帆既張。 [463] 恍然若登舟。始自渭及河。維舟於禪窟蘭若。題詩於南楹云。霜鐘鳴時夕風急。亂鴉又望寒林集。此時輟棹悲且吟。獨坐蓮花一峯立。明日。次潼關。登岸。題句於關門東普通院門云。度關悲失志。萬緖亂心機。下坂馬無力。掃門塵滿衣。計謀多不就。心口自相違。已作羞歸計。還勝羞不歸。自陝東。凡所經歷。一如前願。旬余至家。妻子兄弟。拜迎於門。夕有江亭晚望詩。題于書齋云。立向江亭滿目愁。十年前事信悠悠。田園已逐浮雲散。鄉里平隨逝水流。川上莫逢諸釣叟。浦邊難得舊沙鷗。不緣齒髮未遲暮。吟對遠山堪白頭。此夕謂其妻曰。吾試期近。不可久留。即當進棹。乃吟一章別其妻云。月斜寒露白。此夕去留心。酒至添愁飲。詩成和淚吟。離歌棲鳳管。別鶴怨瑤琴。明夜相思處。秋風吹半衾。將登舟。又留一章別諸兄弟云。謀身非不早。其奈命來遲。舊友皆霄漠。此身猶路歧。北風微雪後。晚景有雲時。惆悵清江上。區區趁試期。一更後。復登葉舟。泛江而逝。兄弟妻屬。慟哭於濱。謂其鬼物矣。一葉漾漾。遵舊途至於渭濱。乃賃乘。復遊青龍寺。宛然見山翁擁褐而坐。季卿謝曰。歸則歸矣。得非夢乎。翁笑曰。後六十日方自知。而日將晚。僧尚不至。翁去。季卿還主人。後二月。季卿之妻子。賫金帛。自江南來。謂季卿厭世矣。故來訪之。妻曰。某月某日歸。是夕作詩於西齋。並留別二章。始知非夢。明年春。季卿下第東歸。至禪窟及關門蘭若。見所題兩篇。翰墨尚新。後年季卿成名。遂絕粒。入南山去。

出慕異記

 

An Immortal Teaches Medicine 神仙教醫

Wei Taicheng was from Pucheng. He had never possessed any medical ability. On the day of the Yuanxiao Festival (the fifteenth day of the first month) he went to the suburbs, and he encountered an elderly man carrying firewood, who went over and sat with him, remarking that the festival would be good to see that evening in Yangzhou. Wei said: “That place is thirty li away; how could one see it?” The old man said: “This is an especially simple matter.” He then unfolded a lined garment of black cloth and had Wei close his eyes and sit tight. After a little while, he told him to open his eyes, and they were indeed in the city of Yangzhou. The inhabitants thought them descended immortals. After the cock crowed, he again unfolded the black lined cloth, they sat in it, and then found themselves back at their original point of departure. One day, which happened to be the birthday of True Man Hua Yue, the old man went in to celebrate it, and instructed Wei at the gate: “We will meet a two-eyed person; that is my master. When you see him you should bow.” After some time, three people, each blind in one eye, arrived supporting an old man, and Wei then bowed to them. The elderly man entered and addressed the first old man: “That person outside the door has the character of an immortal but lacks the fate and fortune of an immortal; he should quickly receive instruction.” They therefore handed over a volume of prescriptions, instructing him how to use the medicines. There was a sufferer of illness whose case he treated and who returned, and then he left home for more than twenty years. None among the villagers knew that he had medical ability, but when he returned and reached their fields, a rue grower said: “Medical Officer Wei says he has medical ability; let’s test his skill a little.” Someone, as soon as their lunch hour arrived, came leaping and jumping together, entering one of his rooms, and pretending to be a patient, their friends making them ask him for medical treatment. Wei felt their pulse and said: “You will die at the shen hour.” (i.e., between 3 and 5pm) They replied: “I am actually not ill.” Returning to the fields they said: “The Medical Officer is mistaken.” Before a moment had passed, however, they developed unbearable abdominal pain, this being caused by the food of their meal having burst through their stomach and intestines during their jumping. From then on Taicheng’s medical practice flourished more and more each day; it is not known how he ended up.

Anon., Huhai xinwen yijian xuzhi, 後1.141 (Tale 248):

神仙教醫

衛太丞,浦城人也。素不能醫。元宵日郊行,遇一老子負薪而至,與之同坐,且謂今夕揚州上元好看。衛曰:「此去三千里,何可得觀。」老子曰:「特易事耳。」乃鋪青布複,俾衛閉目同坐。少頃,令其開目,則揚州城矣。州人以為仙降。至雞鳴後,復用青布複,坐其中,則已回原處矣。一日,值華岳真人誕日,老子入內慶賀,俾衛在門首:「遇二目人,此吾師也。見即拜之。」良久,有三人皆瞽一目,扶一老人到,衛則設拜。老人入謂老子曰:「門外之人,有仙骨而無仙分,宜速分付。」乃付藥方一本,指教用藥,有病者治之原而歸,則去家二十餘年矣。鄉人莫知其能醫,歸到田所,芸田人曰:「衛太丞謂其能醫,少試其術。」一人方午飯,自田中跳躑踴躍走入一室,佯為病者,俾請之用藥。衛診脈曰:「申時當死。」其人曰:「我本無病。」復于田曰:「太丞誤矣。」未踰時,腹痛不可救,蓋飯飽踴躍,斷其腸胃故也。自是醫道日盛,不知所終。

Yuan Haowen 元好問, Chang Zhenguo 常振國 (ed), Xu Yijian zhi 續夷堅志 (Continued Records of the Listener), and Anon., Jin Xin 金心 (ed.), Huhai xinwen yijian xuzhi 湖海新聞夷堅續志 (Continuation of Records of the Listener with New Items from the Lakes and Seas) (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1986).