Fei Ji 費季

Fei Ji, from Wu, spent several years as a travelling merchant. At that time there were many bandits on the roads, and his wife often worried about this. When Ji and his fellows were staying at a travellers’ hostel below Lushan, each asked the others how long they had been on the road. Ji said: “Several years have already passed since I left my home. Just before departing I said farewell to my wife, and asked for her gold hairpin to take with me. I wanted to check whether or not she was devoted to me. I received the hairpin, and left it on the door lintel. Setting off I lost my way, and that hairpin is still on the lintel.” That night, his wife dreamed that Ji told her: “On my journey I encountered bandits, and have been dead for two years. If you don’t believe these words of mine, I took your hairpin but did not carry it with me. I left it [2504] on the door lintel, so you can go and get it.” When his wife awoke, she sought and found the hairpin. The household then announced his death, but, a year later, Ji arrived back from his travels.

From Soushenji.

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, 316.2503-4:

費季

吳人費季。客賈數年。時道多劫。妻常憂之。季與同輩旅宿廬山下。各相問去家幾時。季曰。吾去家已數年。臨來。與妻別。就求金釵以行。欲觀其志。當與吾否耳。得釵。仍以著戶楣上。臨發忘道。此釵故當在戶上也。爾夕。妻夢季曰。吾行遇盜。死已二年。若不信吾言。吾取汝釵。遂不以行。留 [2504] 在戶楣上。可往取之。妻覺。揣釵得之。家遂發喪。後一年餘。季行來歸還。出搜神記

Zhou Yuanshu 周元樞

Zhou Yuanshu was from Suiyang, and served as Secretary-General to Pinglu, residing in the official dwelling at Linzi. One night, when he was about to go to bed, he suddenly heard the sounds of a great many horses and heavy baggage carts. Knocking on his door he sent someone out, who reported: “Li Sikong waits to call on you.” Yuanshu thought through the people he knew, but this was not among them. He therefore concluded: ‘He must be somebody from my home region I do not yet know.’ He then went out to see the guest, invited him to be seated, and asked politely where he had come from. The reply came: “I come to make my home at this very place, and have not yet anywhere to stop, so seek to dwell in this residence.” Yuanshu was shocked, and asked: “Why come here?” He replied: “This is our former home.” Yuanshu said to him: “I came here on an official post, and the house has long been passed down as a government residence. When did the gentleman live here?” The other replied: “I lived here once in the Kaihuang era under the Sui.” (i.e., 581-601 CE) Yuanshu said: “In that case, must not the gentleman surely be a spirit?” He said: “Yes, indeed. The regional officials have permitted me to establish a shrine here, and therefore ask the gentleman simply to move on.” Yuanshu could not agree, and said: “People ought not to mix with spirits. Can it really be that I am about to die, and the gentleman can therefore bully me? Even if that is so, there are no grounds for handing over this residence to the gentleman. Even were I to die, I should still make my case against the gentleman.” He therefore summoned his wife and children, and told them: “I am going to die. Place plenty of paper and brushes in my coffin, as I am going to engage in a disputation with the gentleman Li.” They provided wine to drink, and the pair made several hundred toasts, their speech growing ever more stern. The visitor seemed about to depart, but stayed back, and, after a long time had passed, a servant came and spoke: “A message for the lady from Sikong. Secretary Zhou is emotionless. How can one dispute with such a person? He invites catastrophe.” At this the visitor then said farewell and departed. They showed him to the door, and he then suddenly vanished. Yuanshu remained in good health.

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:

周元樞

周元樞者。睢陽人。為平盧掌書記。寄居臨淄官舍。一夕將寢。忽有車馬輜重甚衆。扣門使報曰。李司空候謁。元樞念親知輩皆無此人。因自思。必鄉曲之舊。吾不及知矣。即出見之。延坐。請問其所從來。曰。吾亦新家至此。未有所止。求居此宅矣。元樞驚曰。何至是。對曰。此吾之舊宅也。元樞曰。吾從官至此。相傳云。書寄之公署也。君何時居此。曰。隋開皇中嘗居之。元樞曰。若爾。君定是鬼耶。曰。然。地府許我立廟於此。故請君移去爾。元樞不可。曰。人不當與鬼相接。豈吾將死。故君得凌我耶。雖然。理不當以此宅授君。吾雖死。必與君訟。因召妻子曰。我死。必多置紙筆於棺中。將與李君對訟。即具酒與之飲。相酬數百盃。詞色愈厲。客將去。復留之。良久。一蒼頭來云。夫人傳語司空。周書記木石人也。安可與之論難。自取困哉。客於是辭謝而去。送之出門。倏忽不見。元樞竟無恙。出稽神錄

Wang Kun 王坤

In the spring of the fourth year Dazhong (850 CE), Wang Kun of Taiyuan was serving as Doctor to the National University. His maidservant, Qing Yun, had died several years before this, but one night he suddenly dreamed that Qing Yun arrived before his bed. Kun was extremely afraid, but rose and questioned her. Qing Yun said: “Your servant has not been a human for several years now, and found myself missing my mortal life, as if I was bound but had not forgotten my release. This evening I received the opportunity to serve by your side, and am very pleased to see you.” Kun was muddled, as if he was drunk, and did not realize that she was a spirit. Qing Yun then led Kun out through the doorway. The gate had already been locked, but she guided Kun through a crevice and he passed through without harm. They reached the centre of the road, and paced back and forth under the moon.

After some time had passed, Kun suddenly felt hungry, and told Qing Yun. Qing Yun replied: “Is there a friend in the village who would give to my darling? Point them out and we’ll ask them for food.” Kun had long been friends with the Scholar to the Imperial College Shi Guan, and he too resided in the village, so Kun went there with her. When they reached Guan’s gate, it was already closed and bolted. Qing Yun knocked upon it, and after a little while the gatekeeper opened a leaf of the door and looked out, but said: “I just heard a knock on the gate, but now I look all is quiet, with nothing to see. How can that be?” He closed the leaf again, but Qing Yun knocked on it once more, and then again, for a third time. The gatekeeper asked, in angry tones: “How come these evil spirits always come to knock on our door?” He then spat and cursed them. Qing Yun explained to Kun: “Mr Shi has already gone to sleep. We certainly can’t call on him now. I hope the gentleman can suggest somewhere else.” At that time there was a junior clerk of the Imperial College who was also from the same village. When he went out he often passed the other’s gate, and the clerk would often pass on his superior’s monthly salary and slips of paper reporting new [2779] appointments. Kun trusted him implicitly.

When they arrived together at his house, they saw one leaf of the door open, and someone carrying a jar of water to scatter onto the street. Qing Yun said: “We should enter with him.” When they had stepped inside, they saw that the junior clerk was dining with several other people. Initially, Kun stood in the courtyard, thinking that the clerk would descend the steps and bow to him, but after some time the clerk still hadn’t given any sign of such courtesy. Presently they saw a maid carrying noodle soup up the steps. Qing Yun struck the servant on the back, at which she fell on the steps, and the soup was all spilled. The clerk, his wife and servants all leapt up, saying fearfully: “This is a malign attack!” They then hurriedly summoned a spirit-medium. The medium told them: “There’s someone there, with a red official’s knee-cover and a silver seal, standing before us in the courtyard.” They therefore made offerings to him, so Kun and Qing Yun sat down together. When the food was finished, they set out together, and the female medium accompanied them to the gate, burning spirit-money beside the entrance. At this Qing Yun addressed Kun: “The gentleman should accompany your servant and depart.” Kun therefore followed her into the village. He looked around and saw that it was the start of summer.

When they reached open countryside in the outskirts after several dozen li, they came to a tomb. Qing Yun said: “This is where your servant dwells. The gentleman should follow and enter.” The mouth of the grave was pitch black and he could not make anything out. Suddenly he awoke in palpitations of pure terror, his back sweating and his body shaking all over. By then the dawn had already broken, but his heart was full of revulsion towards the dream, and he dared not tell anyone about it. That day, he therefore decided to invite Shi Guan. When they had sat down together, Guan told him: “Last night there was a spirit that knocked at my gate three times; we sent people to look but all was quiet and nobody was there. When dawn broke I crossed to see the junior clerk, and found the remains of spirit money. I stood and summoned the clerk to ask about it, and the clerk told me: ‘Your servant had a dinner party last night, and there was a sudden malign attack on our maid. The spirit-medium told us we were haunted by a spirit, so we made offerings in the courtyard. This is the burnt paper.'” All of this was exactly the same as Kun’s dream. Kun grew ever more afraid, so informed his wife and children. In the winter of that year, he did indeed die.

From Xuanshizhi.

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, 351.2778-79

王坤

太原王坤。大中四年春為國子博士。有婢輕雲。卒數年矣。一夕。忽夢輕雲至榻前。坤甚懼。起而訊之。輕雲曰。某自不為人數年矣。嘗念平生時。若縶而不忘解也。今夕得奉左右。亦幸會耳。坤懵然若醉。不寤為鬼也。輕雲即引坤出門。門已扃鐍。隙中導坤而過。曾無礙。行至衢中。步月徘徊。久之。坤忽飢。語於輕雲。輕雲曰。里中人有與郎善者乎。可以詣而求食也。坤素與太學博士石貫善。又同里居。坤因與偕行。至貫門。而門已鍵閉。輕雲叩之。有頃。閽者啟扉曰。向聞叩門。今寂無覩。何也。因闔扉。輕雲又扣之。如是者三。閽者怒曰。厲鬼安得輒扣吾門。且唾且罵之。輕白坤云。石生已寢。固不可詣矣。願郎更詣他所。時有國子監小吏。亦同里。每出。常經其門。吏與主月俸及條報除 [2779] 授。坤甚委信之。因與俱至其家。方見啟扉。有一人持水缶。注入衢中。輕雲曰。可偕入。既入。見小吏與數人會食。初。坤立於庭。以為小吏必降階迎拜。既而小吏不禮。俄見一婢捧湯餅登階。輕雲即毆婢背。遽仆於階。湯餅盡覆。小吏與妻奴俱起。驚曰。中惡。即急召巫者。巫曰。有一人。朱紱銀印。立於庭前。因祭之。坤與輕雲俱就坐。食已而偕去。女巫送到門。焚紙錢於門側。輕雲謂坤曰。郎可偕某而行。坤即隨出里中。望啟夏而去。至郊野數十里。見一墓。輕雲曰。此妾所居。郎可隨而入焉。坤即俛首曲躬而入。墓口曛黑不可辨。忽悸然驚寤。背汗股慄。時天已曉。心惡其夢。不敢語於人。是日。因召〈(明鈔本「召」作「訪」。)〉石貫。既坐。貫曰。昨夕有鬼扣吾門者三。遣視之。寂無所覩。至曉。過小吏。則有焚紙錢跡。即立召小吏。訊其事。小吏曰。某昨夕方會食。忽有婢中惡。巫云。鬼為祟。由是設祭於庭。焚紙於此。盡與坤夢同。坤益懼。因告妻孥。是歲冬。果卒。出宣室志

The Haimen Tiger 海門虎

In the eighth month of the second year Chunxi (18 August to 16 September, 1175), in Xiasha, Haiman County, Tongzhou, a savage tiger suddenly emerged. Of the oxen, sheep, pigs and dogs belonging to the populace, a great many were consumed. The residents feared its coming, and when dusk fell would emerge to fend it off. The windows and doors of old Man Chen’s cottage were all flimsy and would collapse at a touch. Chen spoke to his wife and children, saying: “The tiger will only eat a certain number of people. Our family has eight members, and I fear we are due a catastrophe, so I will now go and undertake that role.” His wife and children lamented and urged him not to, but he paid no heed. When he opened the door, he saw the tiger. It bore an arrow in its flank, so he reached with his hand and pulled it out. The tiger leapt into the air and roared, made a show of great happiness, and departed. The next night, it threw a wild pig to them as a reward, and from then on was seen no more.

Hong Mai 洪邁, He Zhuo 何卓 (ed.), Yi Jian Zhi 夷堅志 (Record of Yi Jian) 4 volumes (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1981), iii, 庚, 4.1166:

海門虎

淳熙二年八月,通州海門縣下沙忽有虎暴,民家牛羊豬狗,遭食者多。居人畏其來,至暮輒出避。陳老翁村舍窗戶籬壁,皆為觸倒。陳語妻子曰:「虎吃人自係定數。我一家人八口,恐須有合受禍者,我今出外自當之。」妻子挽勸不聽。卽開門,見虎肋間帶一箭,手為之拔取。虎騰身哮吼,為感悅之狀而去。次夜,擲一野彘以報,自此絕跡。

Li Ze’s Corpse Rises 李則屍變

At the beginning of the Tang Zhenyuan era (785-805 CE), Li Ze, of Shaoyin in Henan, died. Before he could be prepared for burial, a scarlet-robed person called and expressed condolences, calling himself Herbalist Su. When he entered, his grief was especially deep. Before long, the dead man rose, and began to fight with him; his family, sons and brothers fled the hall in panic. The two closed the door and beat one another, continuing equally matched until dawn. When the Li sons dared to enter, they found two corpses laid together on the bed, their height, build, appearance, hair, beard and clothing quite indistinguishable. At this, the gathered clan being quite unable to work out the matter, they buried both in the same coffin.

Li Rong 李冗, Du yi zhi 獨異志 (Outstanding Fantastic Stories), 上1.14-15 (Tale 78):

李則屍變

唐貞元初,河南少尹李則卒,未斂。有一朱衣人投刺申弔,自稱蘇郎中。既入,哀慟尤甚。俄頃,亡者遂起,與之相搏,家人子弟驚走出堂。二人閉門毆擊,抵暮方息。李子乃敢入,見二屍並卧一床,長短、形狀、姿貌、鬢髯、衣服一無差異。於時聚族不能定識,遂同棺葬之。

Li Rong 李冗, Du yi zhi, 獨異志 (Outstanding Fantastic Stories) in Du yi zhi, Xuanshi Zhi 獨異志,宣室志 (Outstanding Fantastic Stories, Stories from the Chamber of Dissemination), edited by Zhang Yongqin 张永钦 and Hou Zhiming 侯志明 (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1983)

Taixuan Nü 太玄女

The Taixuannü, surname Zhuan, personal name He, lost her father as a child. Mother and child lived together for some time, and all said they would not survive long. Their sadness became worry. She often said: “The life of a human, once lost, cannot be restored. Moreover, I have heard that this span of life is limited, and life cannot be extended without perfecting the Way.” She then went to call on a sagely teacher, purifying her heart, seeking the Way and achieving the *wangzi* techniques. After practicing this for several years, she was then able to enter water without getting wet. At times of deep cold and snow, she could climb the ice in an unlined robe showing no change in countenance, warm in body and able to go on for several days. Moreover she was able to visit government offices, palace chambers, city markets and private residences in many other places. Not thinking this strange, pointing at them they would shift from their previous location. Doors and gates bearing locks would open upon her gesture; pointed at, mountains would crumble, pointed at, trees would fall; pointed at again, all of these would be restored. Taking disciples travelling through the mountains, when the sun set, she struck the rock with her staff, and opened up a door. Entering, there were chambers with beds, curtains and canopies, with food, provisions and wine as if this were normal. Even were she to travel ten thousand li, her whereabouts would often be like this. She could order small items to grow suddenly to the size of a house, and big things to shrink suddenly down to be like a hair or grain. Sometimes she would spit fire to cover the heavens, and sigh to extinguish it. She was also able to sit among flames, her clothes and shoes never scorching. Within a short period, she would change into an old man, change into a small child, change into a carthorse; there was no transformation she could not achieve. She practiced the thirty-six arts with complete dedication, bringing people back to life, and saving innumerable folk. It is not known from where her food or clothing came, and none achieved her powers. Her colour reduced ever more, but the hair on her temples was raven-black. Suddenly, in broad daylight, she ascended to heaven and departed.

From Nüxianzhuan.

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), ii, 59.363

太玄女

太玄女,姓顓,名和,少喪父。或相其母子,皆曰不壽。惻然以為憂。常曰:「人之處世,一失不可復生。況聞壽限之促,非修道不可以延生也。」遂行訪明師,洗心求道,得王子之術。行之累年,遂能入水不濡。盛雪寒時,單衣冰上,而顏色不變,身體溫煖,可至積日。又能徙官府宮殿城市屋宅於他處,視之無異,指之即失其所在,門戶櫝櫃有關鑰者,指之即開,指山山摧,指樹樹拆,更指之,即復如故。將弟子行山間,日暮,以杖叩石,即開門戶。入其中,屋宇床褥幃帳,廩供酒食如常。雖行萬里,所在常爾。能令小物忽大如屋,大物忽小如毫芒。或吐火張天,噓之即滅。又能坐炎火之中,衣履不燃。須臾之間,或化老翁,或為小兒,或為車馬,無所不為。行三十六術甚效,起死廻生,救人無數。不知其何所服食,亦無得其術者。顏色益少,鬢髮如鴉。忽白日昇天而去。出女仙傳

A Dead Soul Returns Home 死魂歸家

In the autumn of the renwu year in the Zhiyuan era (1282), the lady née Chen, wife of Zhao Ruosu, fell ill and died. A little after three weeks later, her nephew Chen Hong came, lodging anxiously in the library. Zhao’s mother, lady Chen, lay in her coffin in the neighbouring room. Suddenly, during the night, the sound of a human voice emanated from the coffin, continuing indistinctly for some time. Not long after, there came several loud raps on the table, and a stern voice called: “Girl! I’m quite unable to help myself, and then you come to stir up trouble!” Chen, terrified, gathered candles and unlocked the door, but all was quiet with nothing to see. On the table the sustaining offerings were covered in dust, but visible among this were two fresh palm-prints. The next day at noon, news of their neighbour’s daughter’s death arrived. They then realised that the previous night’s voice was the dead woman’s soul receiving advance warning of this.

Anon., Huhai xinwen yijian xuzhi, 後2.241 (Tale 436):

死魂歸家

至元壬午秋,趙若涑妻陳氏病卒。越二旬,其姪陳紘來,懸宿於書館內。隔房乃趙母陳氏柩在焉。忽中夜聞柩間有人語聲,良久莫辨。未幾忽拍桌兩下,厲聲曰:「女兒,我自也沒奈何,你又來相攪!」陳大恐,朋燭啟鑰,寂無所見。供養桌上皆塵埃,視之有二掌痕獨新。次日午,果趙之適女訃音至。始知昨夕之聲,(「聲」,明刻本作「怪」。)魂已先知矣。

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).