Original Text
In Caozhou there lived a scholar named Li, whose family had long been wealthy, though his residence was never very spacious; behind the house lay a garden of several acres, left wild and unused. One day, an old man came seeking to rent a room, offering one hundred taels of silver as rent. Scholar Li declined, saying there was no vacant room, but the old man replied, "Please accept it, and have no concern." Not understanding the old man's intent, Li took the silver provisionally, waiting to see what strange event might unfold.
On the following day, the villagers saw many carriages and horses, along with family members and servants, entering Scholar Li's residence, bustling and lively. Everyone suspected that Scholar Li's house lacked the space to accommodate so many people, so they went to inquire. Scholar Li knew nothing of it and returned home to investigate, but found no activity. A few days later, the old man suddenly came to visit, saying, "I have been staying at your place for several days now, and everything has had to be hastily arranged—setting up stoves and building hearths—so I have not had the time to fulfill the duties of a guest. Today, I have ordered my daughters to prepare a meal, and I hope you will honor us with your presence." Scholar Li agreed, and upon entering the garden, he suddenly saw a row of magnificent houses, brand new and gleaming. Stepping inside, he found the furnishings exquisite, the utensils splendid, and the air fragrant. The wine vessel was already heated under the eaves, and the tea stove in the kitchen emitted blue smoke. Soon, wine was poured and toasts were made, dishes were served and urged upon him, all of them delicacies. At that time, he saw many young men walking about the courtyard and heard the soft whispers of children and the laughter and chatter from behind the curtains. The household, including concubines and maidservants, seemed to number several dozen or even a hundred. Scholar Li understood in his heart that these were foxes. After the feast, he returned home, nursing a secret intent to kill. Henceforth, whenever he went to the market, he would buy some saltpeter and sulfur, accumulating several hundred catties in total, secretly spreading them throughout the entire garden. One day, he suddenly set a fire, and in an instant, the saltpeter and sulfur exploded, flames soared to the sky, smoke rose like black lingzhi mushrooms, and the stench was unbearable, smoke and fire blinding the eyes, making it impossible to approach. Only the sounds of weeping and screaming, a chaotic din, could be heard. After the fire died down, Scholar Li entered to inspect, and the ground was covered with dead foxes, countless ones scorched and charred beyond recognition. As he was surveying the scene, the old man entered from outside, his expression deeply pained, and reproached Scholar Li, saying, "We had no prior enmity, and a barren garden yielding a hundred taels of silver each year is no small sum—how could you bear to exterminate our entire clan? Such a grievous wrong will not go unavenged!" With these words, he departed in fury. Scholar Li suspected that the old man would cause some calamity, such as throwing bricks or tiles, but after more than a year passed, no strange occurrences appeared.
By the early years of the Shunzhi reign, many bandits had appeared in the mountains, gathering a crowd of over ten thousand, and the authorities were powerless to capture them. Scholar Li's family was large, and he constantly worried about the turmoil and separation that might come. At that time, a man skilled in astrology arrived in the village, calling himself "Old Man of the Southern Mountain," who could predict fortune and misfortune with such accuracy that it seemed he had witnessed events firsthand, thus gaining great fame. Scholar Li invited him to his home and asked him to calculate his birth horoscope. The Old Man of the Southern Mountain counted on his fingers, then stood up in astonishment, bowed respectfully, and said, "This is the destiny of a true Son of Heaven!" Scholar Li was greatly surprised and considered this nonsense. The Old Man of the Southern Mountain insisted earnestly that it was true, leaving Scholar Li half-believing and half-doubting, who said, "How can one become an emperor starting from nothing?" The Old Man replied, "Not so. Since ancient times, most emperors have risen from commoners; who was born an emperor?" Scholar Li was beguiled and stepped forward to ask for advice and strategy. The Old Man then resolutely styled himself as the Sleeping Dragon, Master Zhuge Liang, and instructed Scholar Li to first prepare several thousand sets of armor and bows and arrows. Scholar Li worried that no one would submit to him, but the Old Man said, "Your servant requests to go on behalf of Your Majesty to contact the various mountain strongholds and forge deep alliances. Then send people everywhere to proclaim that Your Majesty is the true Son of Heaven, and the soldiers in the mountains will all respond." Scholar Li was delighted and sent the Old Man to carry out the plan, while he himself dug up his buried silver to manufacture armor and bows and arrows.
It was only after several days that Old Man of the Southern Mountain returned, saying, "Borrowing the king's majesty and fortune, and aided by your servant's glib tongue, all the mountain strongholds are willing to hold the reins and follow under your banner." Within about ten days, indeed several thousand came to pledge allegiance. Thereupon, he appointed Old Man of the Southern Mountain as military advisor, had a commander's banner made, set up a dense forest of colorful flags, and built camp stockades along the mountain, creating a formidable presence. The county magistrate led troops to suppress them, but Old Man of the Southern Mountain directed the bandits to rout the government forces. The magistrate, terrified, sent an urgent plea to Yanzhou. When Yanzhou's troops arrived from afar, Old Man of the Southern Mountain ambushed them with a sudden raid, and the prefectural army was utterly defeated, with many officers and men killed or wounded. Scholar Li's power grew even greater, his followers numbering tens of thousands, and he proclaimed himself "King of Nine Mountains." Old Man of the Southern Mountain complained of a shortage of horses, and just then, the imperial court was transporting horses to the south; he dispatched a contingent to intercept and seize them. From then on, the King of Nine Mountains' fame spread far and wide. The king enfeoffed Old Man of the Southern Mountain as Protector General of the State, while he himself lounged idly in his mountain stronghold, thinking himself grand, believing that the yellow robe would soon be his. The Governor of Shandong, angered by the seizure of the horses, was about to launch a campaign to annihilate them when he also received the report from Yanzhou; thus, he dispatched several thousand elite troops, dividing them into six routes to encircle and attack, their banners fluttering, filling the valleys. The King of Nine Mountains was greatly alarmed and summoned Old Man of the Southern Mountain for counsel, but he was nowhere to be found. The king, utterly at a loss, climbed to the mountain peak and, gazing at the tide-like government forces, said, "Only today do I realize the might of the imperial court!" The stronghold was breached, the King of Nine Mountains captured, and his wife and children all slain. It was only then that he understood Old Man of the Southern Mountain was the old fox, who had originally come to avenge the extermination of his clan upon Scholar Li.
The Chronicler of Strange Tales remarks: When a man stays behind closed doors, living at ease with his wife and children, how could he invite mortal danger? Even if killed, what cause could lead to the annihilation of his entire clan? The fox's scheme of vengeance was indeed cunning. Though soil exists, if no seed is sown, watering and irrigation will yield no growth. That Scholar Li committed the cruel act of killing a fox, and within his heart already lay the seed of brigandage; thus the old fox could nurture its sprouting and ultimately exact revenge. If today you were to seize a passerby and say, 'You shall be emperor!' none would fail to flee in terror. Yet when clearly led toward an act that would destroy his family, he willingly pursued it, resulting in the slaughter of his wife and children—what more is there to say? However, when people hear wild and delusive words, they often first grow angry, then upon further listening become doubtful, and with continued hearing grow convinced; only when their reputation is ruined and their lives shattered do they realize they have been deceived—most cases are much like this.
Commentary
In former times, within the mountainous villages of China, some dilapidated and overgrown courtyards harbored foxes and weasels cohabiting with humans. People often adopted a tacitly tolerant attitude, and to prevent children or the young from taking drastic or harmful actions, they even concocted superstitious reasons to sanction such cohabitation, somewhat akin to modern notions of animal protection. Of course, there were also those who held the view that "birds and beasts should not dwell together," and took exterminating measures against these lodgers. The Li family landlord from Caozhou in "The Nine-Mountain King" and Minister Qiu in the subsequent "The Fox of Zunhua Office" exemplified the latter stance.
These two tales share a common characteristic: first, those who harbor enmity toward foxes are not ordinary commoners; Li of Caozhou is a great landowner, and Minister Qiu of Zunhua is an official, and because their courtyards are vast, the foxes that lodge there are also great clans, not ordinary foxes. Second, the foxes that lodge there are all courteous and polite, at the very least showing considerable respect for the property rights of the owners, either paying rent or agreeing to leave. Yet Li of Caozhou and Minister Qiu of Zunhua both adopted cruel and utterly destructive measures against the lodged foxes, and were quite insidious and cunning. However, in every perfect plan there is a flaw, and one member of the fox clan luckily escaped the calamity of annihilation. Third, the escaped foxes all adopted the attitude of "a gentleman takes ten years to settle a score," possessing sufficient patience and wisdom, and ultimately employed unexpected actions to exact proportionate revenge upon the perpetrators.
Pu Songling clearly disapproved of the actions of the Li family of Caozhou and Magistrate Qiu of Zunhua, remarking that "the cruelty with which they slaughtered foxes already harbored the roots of thievery in their hearts, thus allowing the foxes to nurture their resentment and exact retribution," believing that their suffering at the hands of the foxes was a deserved punishment. Although "The Nine-Mountain King" and "The Fox of Zunhua Prefecture" carry a considerable allegorical nature, they also obliquely reflect the realities of the time; for instance, "The Nine-Mountain King" mirrors the turmoil of the early Qing dynasty and Pu Songling's own attitude toward rebellion.