Original Text
On the ancient island of the Eastern Sea, there grew a five-colored winter jasmine that bloomed all year round without withering. The island had been uninhabited since ancient times, and human visitors were extremely rare. A scholar named Zhang from Dengzhou, by nature curious and fond of traveling and hunting, heard of the island's beauty, so he prepared wine and provisions, and set off alone in a small boat.
Upon reaching the island, flowers were in full bloom, their fragrance wafting for miles, and some trees were so thick that it took over a dozen men to encircle them with their arms. He lingered there, reluctant to leave, feeling utterly at ease. Opening his wine flask, he poured himself a drink, but regretted having no companion to share the pleasure. Suddenly, from amidst the flowers emerged a beautiful woman, her red attire dazzling to the eye, incomparable to any other woman. Seeing Zhang, she smiled and said, "I thought my own tastes were extraordinary, but I never expected to find someone here with the same inclinations." Startled, Zhang asked who she was, and the beauty replied, "I am a courtesan from Jiaozhou, having just come from the company of the Sea Prince. He has gone off to seek scenic spots for his leisurely wanderings, and I, being too weary to follow, stayed behind." Zhang, who had been suffering from loneliness, was overjoyed at meeting this beauty, and he invited her to sit and drink with him. Her speech was gentle and captivating, enchanting his very soul, and Zhang took great delight in her. Fearing that the Sea Prince might return and spoil their pleasure, he drew her close and made love to her, and the beauty gladly yielded to him.
Before the two had finished their intimate embrace, they suddenly heard a wind whistling through the air, and the grasses and trees bent and snapped with a loud crash. The beautiful woman hastily pushed Zhang aside and rose, saying, "The Lord of the Sea has arrived." Zhang fastened his belt and looked around in astonishment, but the woman had already vanished without a trace. In a moment, Zhang saw a great serpent emerge from the thicket, thicker than a large barrel. Filled with terror, Zhang hid behind a large tree, hoping the serpent would not see him. The serpent slithered up to Zhang and coiled its body around both him and the tree, winding several times, so that Zhang's arms were pressed tightly against his hips, utterly unable to move. The serpent raised its head and pierced Zhang's nose with its tongue. Blood flowed from Zhang's nose, pooling on the ground, and the serpent lowered its head to drink the blood. Zhang resigned himself to certain death, but then suddenly remembered the pouch at his waist, which contained poison for killing foxes. Using two fingers, he pinched out the packet, broke it open, and piled the powder in his palm. Then, tilting his neck to look at his hand, he let his blood drip onto the powder, and soon a handful of bloody mixture had accumulated. The serpent indeed came close to his palm to suck the blood. Before it had finished drinking, the serpent stiffened its body, lashed its tail with a sound like thunder, and struck the tree, splitting the trunk in two. Finally, the serpent lay dead on the ground like a fallen beam. Zhang, dizzy and faint, could not rise, but after a while he recovered, loaded the serpent onto his boat, and returned home. He fell gravely ill and did not recover for over a month. He suspected that the woman was also a serpent spirit.
Commentary
"The Story of Young Master Hai" recounts the tale of a scholar named Zhang from Dengzhou who ventures alone to a remote, uninhabited island to explore and admire the flowers, only to be ensnared by a python and must save himself. Were the events narrated directly, they would be far too simplistic; thus, the narrative interweaves a romantic encounter between Zhang and a beauty in red garments, rendering the tale both alluring and intricate.
Scholar Zhang was entwined around the tree by the python several times, "his arms bound straight against his sides, unable to bend even slightly," in extreme danger, with almost no hope of survival, posing a severe challenge to the continuation of the tale. Yet Pu Songling rose to the challenge, writing: "Zhang, convinced he was doomed, suddenly recalled the sachet hanging at his waist, containing poison for foxes; thus, using two fingers, he pinched it out, tore the pouch, and piled the contents into his palm, then tilted his neck to look at his own hand, letting blood drip onto the medicine until it filled his cupped hand. The snake indeed came to drink from his palm. Before it had finished drinking, it suddenly stretched its body, lashing its tail with a sound like thunder, striking the tree, which split and collapsed halfway, and the snake lay dead on the ground like a beam." This vividly displays Zhang's desperate counterattack. In such detailed descriptions, one cannot help but admire Pu Songling's ingenious conception and superb literary skill.