Original Text
A woman came to the village, aged about twenty-four or twenty-five, carrying a medicine pouch, selling her medical skills and remedies. When someone came to consult her, she would not write a prescription herself but waited until nightfall to ask the gods to prescribe the medicine. When the time came to issue the prescription at night, she would tidy a clean little room and lock herself inside.
The crowd gathered around the door and window, straining their ears in silence, only able to whisper softly among themselves, not daring to cough aloud. Both inside and outside the room, all was still. Near midnight, they suddenly heard the sound of a curtain being lifted. A woman inside said, "Has Ninth Aunt arrived?" Another woman replied, "She has come." Then she asked, "Did Lamei come with Ninth Aunt?" A maidservant seemed to answer, "She has come." The three of them chattered on and on without end. After a while, they heard the jingle of curtain hooks, and the woman said, "Sixth Aunt has arrived." Someone interjected, "Has Chunmei also brought the little child?" A woman said, "This stubborn little one! No matter how I coaxed him, he wouldn't sleep, insisting on coming with the mistress. He's as heavy as a hundred catties, crushing me to death!" Then followed the sound of the woman's warm hospitality, Ninth Aunt's inquiries, Sixth Aunt's greetings, the two maidservants' words of comfort, and the child's joyful laughter, all mingling in a lively clamor. After a moment, the woman laughed and said, "The little young master is so amusing, he even brought a cat from afar." Gradually, the voices grew sparse. The curtain rustled again, and the room filled with noise as someone said, "Why has Fourth Aunt come so late?" A young girl's voice replied softly, "The journey was over a thousand li, and we walked with Aunt for so long before arriving. Aunt walked slowly." Then came exchanges of concern, the sound of chairs being moved, and calls for extra seats, rising and falling in a constant buzz of conversation and movement, which only quieted after the time it takes to eat a meal. At last, the woman was heard asking what medicine to use for the illness. Ninth Aunt thought ginseng should be used, Sixth Aunt favored astragalus, and Fourth Aunt advocated for atractylodes. After some deliberation, they heard Ninth Aunt call for brush and inkstone. Soon came the rustling of paper being folded, the clinking of the brush being removed and its cap tossed aside, and the rumbling of ink being ground. Then came the thud of the brush striking the table, and finally the rustling of medicine being wrapped. After another while, the woman lifted the curtain and called for the patient to come for the prescription and medicine. She turned back inside, and then came the farewells of the three aunts, the farewells of the three maidservants, the babbling laughter of the child, and the mewing of the cat, all rising at once. Ninth Aunt's voice was clear and melodious, Sixth Aunt's was slow and aged, Fourth Aunt's was delicate and sweet, and along with the voices of the three maidservants, each had its own distinct character, so that one could tell at once who was speaking. The crowd was utterly astonished, believing they had truly encountered immortals, but after taking the woman's medicine, there was no particular curative effect. This was what is called ventriloquism, merely using the art to peddle her drugs. Yet even so, the ventriloquism had reached a miraculous level.
Wang Xinyi once recounted: When he was in the capital, he happened to pass by a marketplace and heard the sound of zither playing and singing. A crowd of onlookers had gathered like a wall. Drawing near, he saw a young man singing melodiously in time with the music. There was no musical instrument; he merely pressed one finger against his cheek, and as he pressed and sang, the sound came forth with a clear, ringing resonance, no different from the accompaniment of stringed instruments. This, too, must be a skill akin to ventriloquism.
Commentary
The two tales of the "Ventriloquism" chapter recount separate stories yet form a cohesive whole. The first unfolds within a darkened chamber, where listeners discern only the sounds, not the performer; the second focuses on revealing how ventriloquism is executed, which is essential for those who have never witnessed such an art.
Since the narrative focuses on the performance of ventriloquism, the story begins with directness and ends with succinctness, merely recounting how the ventriloquist invited and dismissed the deities, along with the episodes of the gods prescribing and dispensing medicine. The invitation of the deities is described in a vertical sequence: first the arrival of Ninth Lady, then Sixth Lady, and finally Fourth Lady. The dismissal, however, is depicted horizontally, with all rising at once, the narration full of variation. The summoned deities are six females: Ninth Lady with her maid Lamei, Sixth Lady with her maid Chunmei, Fourth Lady with her maid, plus Sixth Lady's little boy and a cat. The sounds of invitation include voices exchanging pleasantries, moving seats, calling for additional seating, all mingled in disorder, filling the room with clamor. The sounds of dismissal feature the child's babbling and the cat's mewing. Ninth Lady's voice is clear and piercing, Sixth Lady's slow and aged, Fourth Lady's delicate and gentle; in sum, each has a distinct tone, clearly discernible to the ear. Simulating their sounds of prescribing and dispensing medicine, there are inquiries about illness, discussions on prescriptions, calls for brush and inkstone, folding paper, uncapping the brush, grinding ink, setting down the brush on the desk, gathering herbs and wrapping them—all sounds vivid, rich in timbre, and interlinked. These sounds, brimming with the breath of life, are not isolated fragments but form a coherent narrative thread, inevitably leading the audience to marvel in astonishment, believing them to be true deities.
These exquisite ventriloquist performances were not merely artistic displays, but rather the performer's means of practicing medicine and selling medicines, regarding which Pu Songling also expressed a clear opinion.