Original Text
Mr. Li of Changshan County was the nephew of the Grand Minister of Justice. The residence he occupied was often plagued by strange and eerie occurrences. On one occasion, he noticed a long bench in the room, which was of a fleshy red color, smooth and lustrous to the touch. Since he had never seen such an object there before, he approached and pressed his hand upon it; the bench then bent and twisted under his hand, becoming almost as soft as flesh. Startled, he quickly withdrew. When he looked back shortly after, the bench moved on its four legs, slowly sinking into the wall until it vanished. On another occasion, Mr. Li saw a white staff leaning against the wall, smooth, glossy, and exceedingly slender. As he drew near and touched it, the staff softly collapsed, slithering like a snake into the wall, curling and twisting until it disappeared from sight.
In the seventeenth year of the Kangxi reign, there was a scholar named Wang Junsheng who opened a teaching hall at the Li family's residence, instructing young pupils. One evening, just as the lamp was lit, Wang lay on his bed in his shoes, resting. Suddenly he saw a tiny figure, no more than three inches tall, walk in from outside the door, make a slight turn on the ground, and then go back out. Before long, the little figure returned carrying two small benches, which he placed in the middle of the room; the benches looked like toys made from sorghum stalks by children. After a while, two more tiny figures carried in a coffin about four inches long and set it down on the benches. Before it was properly settled, a woman appeared, leading several coarse maidservants, all as small as the previous figures. The woman wore mourning garments, with a hempen rope tied around her waist and white cloth wrapped around her head; she covered her mouth with her sleeve and wept with a sound like the buzzing of a large fly. Wang watched for some time, his hair standing on end, his body cold as if covered with frost. He then cried out loudly, hastily rose to flee, but fell to the floor, trembling uncontrollably, unable to get up. The people in the teaching hall, hearing his shouts, all rushed in, but the tiny figures, coffin, and benches had already vanished.
Commentary
This records two strange incidents witnessed by different people in the same residence. The first strange event describes the master of the house seeing two peculiar objects that could move like animals. The second strange event recounts a tutor who personally witnessed many three-inch-tall little people conducting a funeral within the house. The focus of the strange narrative clearly lies on the latter. Though the passage is brief, the actions and movements of the little people are vividly depicted as if seen before one's eyes. Such material could have developed into a fairy tale like "Lilliput" in the West, but unfortunately, within the cultural context of that time, the tutor in Pu Songling's writing was so terrified that he "cried out loudly, fled hastily, tumbled under the bed, and trembled so violently he could not rise."
Feng Zhenluan, in his commentary on the structure of "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio," remarked: "The short tales of Liaozhai do not possess the same brilliance as the longer narratives, yet their storytelling is concise and pure, their brushwork elegant and refined. They are like a traveler among mountains—having just passed one peak, he inquires after another; at such a moment, he cannot help but take a detour by a small bridge over a winding bank, across shallow waters and level sands. Though the former mountain is not far behind, his soul has only just been gathered, and the next mountain already looms, taxing his eyes and ears anew. Though not greatly labored over, these tales are by no means disappointing to the spirit. Moreover, each bridge, each bank, each stream, each sandbank is not like a desolate wilderness or a remote frontier. In the cool of a late evening after a bath, beneath a trellis of bean flowers, fanning oneself with a palm-leaf, recounting the twists and turns, the delight is by no means shallow." This critique applies not only to "The House Demon" but to nearly all the short tales within "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio."