Original Text
Li Hua of Changzhou possessed extensive farmland. Though over fifty years old, he had no son. He had a daughter named Xiaohui, whose countenance was fair, and the couple doted on her exceedingly. At fourteen, she was struck by a sudden illness and died prematurely. The household fell into desolation, bereft of joy, so he took a concubine. After more than a year, a son was born, whom he cherished as a jewel and named Zhu'er. As the boy grew, he became robust and handsome, yet his mind was profoundly dull; at five or six, he could not distinguish beans from wheat, and his speech was slurred and stammering. Li Hua loved him nonetheless, heedless of his defects. At that time, a one-eyed monk was begging alms in the marketplace, claiming knowledge of people's secret affairs. All marveled, deeming him a divine being, and it was rumored he could control life, death, fortune, and calamity. This monk demanded money and goods by name, in sums of tens or hundreds of strings, and none dared refuse. He approached Li Hua for a hundred strings of cash. Li Hua found this difficult and offered ten, but the monk refused. Gradually increasing to thirty, the monk cried harshly, "A hundred strings are required; not a single coin less!" Li Hua grew angry, pocketed the money, and left. The monk rose in fury, saying, "Do not regret this! Do not regret this!" Soon after, Zhu'er suffered a violent pain in his heart, writhing on the bed mat, his face ashen. Terrified, Li Hua took eighty strings to beg the monk for his son's life. The monk sneered, "To part with so much is no easy matter, yet what can I, a humble monk, do?" When Li Hua returned home, his son was already dead. Overwhelmed with grief, he wrote a complaint and brought it to the magistrate. The magistrate sent officers to arrest the monk and interrogated him, but the monk offered clever excuses, refusing to confess. When the officers beat him, it sounded like striking a leather drum. A search of his person revealed two wooden puppets, a small coffin, and five tiny banners. The magistrate, enraged, made a hand seal and showed it to the monk. Only then did the monk cower, kowtowing repeatedly. The magistrate paid no heed and had him beaten to death. Li Hua bowed in thanks to the magistrate and returned home.
At that time, the sky had already grown dark, and Li Hua sat on the bed with his wife. Suddenly, they noticed a small child rushing hastily into the room, saying, "Father, why did you walk so fast? I tried my utmost to catch up but could not." Judging by the child's appearance, he seemed to be about seven or eight years old. Startled, Li Hua was about to question him when he saw the child appear and disappear, flickering like mist and smoke, and in a twinkling, he had already climbed onto the bed and sat down. Li Hua pushed him off, and the child fell to the ground without making a sound. The child said, "Father, why must you do this?" In the blink of an eye, he was back on the bed. Terrified, Li Hua fled with his wife. The child called after them, crying "Father! Mother!" in a ceaseless, babbling wail. Li Hua ran to his concubine's room, hastily shut the door, but when he looked back, the child was already standing by his leg. Alarmed, Li Hua asked what he wanted, and the child replied, "I am from Suzhou, and my surname is Zhan. At six years old, I lost my parents; my elder brother and sister-in-law could not tolerate me and drove me to my maternal grandfather's home. One day, while playing outside the door, I was bewitched by an evil monk, who killed me beneath a mulberry tree. He then forced me to become a ghostly servant to harm others, and my deep grievance lies buried in the Nine Springs, with no hope of release. Thanks to you, Father, for avenging my wrongs, I wish to become your son." Li Hua said, "Man and ghost belong to two different realms; how can we rely on each other?" The child replied, "If you would but clear out a small room, set up a bed and bedding for me, and pour a cup of cold rice gruel each day, I will need nothing else." Li Hua agreed. The child was greatly pleased and thus took up residence alone in the small room. In the morning, he came and went about the courtyard, just like a child of the household. When he heard Li Hua's concubine weeping for her son, he asked, "How many days has Zhuer been dead?" She replied seven days. The child said, "The weather is cold, so the corpse will not have decayed. You may open the coffin and look; if the body is undamaged, I can bring him back to life." Overjoyed, Li Hua went with the child to dig up the grave, opened the coffin, and saw that the body was still as it had been. As they grieved, Li Hua turned his head and found the child had vanished. Puzzled, he carried the corpse home. As soon as he laid it on the bed, the eyes began to move; after a while, it asked for hot water, drank it, then broke into a sweat, and after sweating, rose up.
The family was overjoyed that Zhu'er had returned from the dead, but he was now clever and nimble, quite unlike his former self. Yet at night he lay stiff and motionless, without a breath of life; when they turned him over, he showed no sign of movement, as if he were truly dead. Greatly alarmed, they feared he had perished again. Just before dawn, he stirred as if waking from a dream. When they approached and questioned him, he said, "Formerly, when I followed the wicked monk, there were two of us children, one called Gezi. Yesterday, when I failed to catch up with Father, it was because I was behind, bidding farewell to Gezi. Now he dwells in the underworld as a foster son to Squire Jiang, living a carefree life. At night he comes to play with me. Just now he sent me back on a yellow horse with a white nose and black muzzle." His mother then asked, "Did you see Zhu'er in the underworld?" He replied, "Zhu'er has already been reborn. He had no father-son bond with Father; he was merely the means by which Yan Zifang of Jinling reclaimed the thousand eight hundred coins owed to him." In times past, when Li Hua was trading in Jinling, he had owed Yan Zifang money for goods; after Yan died, this matter was unknown to anyone. Li Hua was greatly startled upon hearing this. His mother then asked, "Have you seen your sister Hui?" He answered, "I do not know; I shall seek her another time."
After another two or three days, the child said to its mother, "Sister Hui is doing well in the underworld; she married the young master of King Chujiang, her head adorned with pearls and jade, and whenever she goes out, a hundred attendants clear the way with shouts." The mother asked, "Why does she not come home to visit?" The child replied, "Once a person dies, they have no connection with their flesh and blood. Only if someone speaks in detail of events from their former life might they be stirred to recall the past and be moved. Yesterday, I asked Squire Jiang to find a way to see my sister, and she had me sit on her coral bed. When I spoke of our parents' longing for her, she seemed drowsy and unresponsive. Then I said, 'When you were alive, Sister, you loved to embroider twin-stemmed flowers; once the scissors pricked your finger, and blood stained the silk, but you worked the blood into the shape of red clouds. Mother still keeps that piece hanging on the wall by her bed, and she thinks of you constantly. Have you forgotten, Sister?' Only then did she feel sorrowful and say, 'Wait until I tell my husband, and I will come home to visit Mother.'" The mother asked when she would return, but the child said it did not know.
One day, the child said to his mother, "Elder Sister is about to arrive, with many attendants and servants, so we should prepare plenty of wine and food." After a while, the child ran into the house and said, "Elder Sister has come!" He moved a chair into the main hall and said, "Elder Sister, please sit and rest a while, do not be too sorrowful." None of them could see this scene. After the child led someone outside to burn paper money and offer wine, he returned and said, "The attendants have all been sent back for now. Elder Sister said, 'The green brocade quilt that was once made was scorched by a candle spark, leaving a mark the size of a bean—is that quilt still here?'" The mother replied, "It is still here." She immediately opened the chest and took it out. The child said, "Elder Sister told me to place the quilt in her former bedchamber; she is weary and wishes to sleep a little. Tomorrow morning she will speak with Mother again."
The daughter of the Zhao family from the eastern neighbor had been a close friend of Xiaohui since their maiden days. One night, Zhao's daughter suddenly dreamed that Xiaohui, wearing a turban and a purple cape, came to visit her, speaking and laughing just as she had in life. She said, "I am no longer of this world now, and to see my parents is as difficult as crossing a thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers. I wish to borrow your body to speak with my family—do not be alarmed." At dawn, as Zhao's daughter was talking with her mother, she suddenly fell to the ground and lost consciousness. After some time, she revived and said to her mother, "Xiaohui has been parted from you, Aunt, for several years, and white hairs have already grown." The mother asked in alarm, "Has my daughter gone mad?" The daughter bowed to her mother and then walked out. The mother, sensing something amiss, followed her. Zhao's daughter went straight to the Li family home, embraced Li's mother, and wept bitterly. Li's mother, startled, did not understand what was happening. The daughter said, "I returned yesterday and was very tired, so I did not have time to speak. I was unfilial to abandon my parents midway, causing you to grieve and think of me—truly a great sin." Only then did Li's mother suddenly realize the truth and burst into tears. After weeping, she asked, "I hear you have become a noblewoman now, which brings me great comfort. Since you live in a princely household, how is it that you can come and go as you please?" The daughter replied, "My husband treats me with great affection, and my parents-in-law also dote on me, finding no fault in me." In life, Xiaohui had been fond of resting her chin on her hand, and as Zhao's daughter spoke, she often repeated this gesture, her expression exactly as it had been before. Soon, Zhu'er ran in and said, "The one who comes to fetch my elder sister has arrived." The daughter rose, wept, and bowed in farewell, saying, "I am leaving." With that, Zhao's daughter fell to the ground again and did not revive for an hour.
After several months, Li Hua's illness grew severe, and medicine proved ineffective. The child said, "I fear he will die soon, and there is no saving him! Two little demons sit at the bedside, one holding an iron rod, the other carrying a hemp rope four or five feet long. I beg them day and night, but they refuse to leave." Li's mother wept and began preparing burial clothes and shrouds. By evening, the child hurried in and said, "Let all the idle women withdraw; my brother-in-law has come to see Father." After a moment, the child clapped his hands and laughed heartily. When his mother asked why, he said, "I laugh at these two little demons—hearing that my brother-in-law is coming, they have hidden under the bed like turtles drawing in their heads." Not long after, the child looked up to the sky, waved, and inquired after his sister's well-being. Then he clapped again and said, "The two little demons begged and would not leave, but now it is truly a great relief!" He went outside, then returned and said, "My brother-in-law has departed; the two demons are tied to his horse's reins. Father's illness should soon be cured. My brother-in-law said: 'Return and report to the King, and seek a hundred years of life for your parents.'" The whole family rejoiced. That night, Li Hua's condition greatly improved, and within a few days he was fully recovered.
Li Hua hired a tutor to teach his son to read. The boy was very intelligent and at eighteen passed the imperial examination at the county level, at which time he could still speak of matters in the underworld. When he saw a neighbor's household afflicted by illness, he could point out where the ghost or demon lurked, and if they burned it with fire, the afflicted often recovered. Later, Zhu'er fell suddenly ill, his skin turning blue and purple, and he himself said that the spirits were punishing him for revealing things that should not be spoken, and from then on he no longer discussed matters of the underworld.
Commentary
Ancient Chinese folklore held that children's eyes were exceptionally sharp, enabling them to see into the netherworld that adults could not perceive. This tale is crafted based on that very legend.
The tale is composed of several brief episodes: First, Li Hua had two children; his daughter Xiaohui died young from a sudden illness, while his son Zhu'er was murdered by a blind monk through sorcery. Li Hua reported the matter to the authorities, and the blind monk was executed according to the law. Second, the ghost of another child, a boy surnamed Zhan, who had also been killed by the blind monk, followed Li Hua out of gratitude and merged with Zhu'er's corpse to be reborn. Third, the boy surnamed Zhan told Li Hua's wife that Zhu'er had no true father-son bond with Li Hua, but had merely come to collect a debt. He also devised a way to contact Xiaohui in the underworld, allowing her to return and visit her parents. Later, Xiaohui's husband even performed rites to drive away ghosts and seek longevity for Li Hua. Fourth, the boy surnamed Zhan grew up and passed the imperial examination to become a scholar. However, after repeatedly divulging secrets of the underworld, he was punished and thereafter refrained from revealing any further information.
The tale itself merely depicts trivial family matters and the tender emotions of young children, yet through the mouths of the little ones, it is narrated with vividness and brimming with the charm of daily life. Particularly in its portrayal of parents mourning their departed child and the child's lingering attachment to its parents, it stirs a poignant ache in the reader's heart. To take a child as the protagonist of a work, to narrate from a child's perspective, and to imbue the story with a child's sensibilities—this is exceedingly rare in Chinese literature, especially in classical tales written in literary Chinese.