Original Text
Wang Shixiu was a native of Luzhou, a man of fierce courage and great strength, capable of lifting a stone mortar used for pounding rice. Both he and his father excelled at playing football. When his father was in his forties, he met with misfortune while crossing the Qiantang River and drowned. Eight or nine years later, Wang Shixiu traveled to Hunan on business, and one night his boat moored by the shore of Lake Dongting. A full moon rose in the east, casting its light upon the clear lake waters, which shimmered like a bolt of white silk. As Wang gazed across the lake, he suddenly saw five figures leap out from the water, carrying a large mat that they spread flat upon the surface, covering an area about half an acre in size. They set out wine and dishes upon the mat, and the clinking of cups and utensils could be heard, but the sounds were soft and mellow, unlike the clash of pottery or porcelain. After a while, three of them sat down to drink on the mat, while two stood by to serve. Among the seated ones, one wore yellow robes, and the other two wore white; all had black headdresses tied high on their heads, which hung down to their shoulders and backs—a most bizarre and strange attire, though the moonlight was too dim to see clearly. The two attendants were dressed in brown, one appearing to be a youth, the other an old man. The one in yellow said, "The moonlight tonight is truly splendid, enough for us to drink heartily and to our fill." One in white replied, "Tonight's scenery is much like the time when the South Sea God, King Guangli, held a feast at Pear Blossom Isle." The three toasted each other, raising their cups in eager competition to drink deeply. But their voices gradually grew faint, until at last they could no longer be heard at all. The boatmen, witnessing this, all hid within the vessel, not daring to stir.
Wang Shixiu looked closely at the old man standing and serving wine, who bore a striking resemblance to his father, yet when he spoke, his voice was not that of his father. As the second watch was drawing to a close, he suddenly heard someone say, "Since the bright moon hangs in the sky tonight, let us play a game of football for amusement." Then Wang Shixiu saw the young boy disappear into the water, and from the water he retrieved a large round ball, as big as two arms could embrace, and within the ball it seemed filled with quicksilver, translucent both inside and out. The three seated guests all rose to their feet. The man in yellow robes summoned the old man serving wine to join them in kicking the ball, and with one kick the old man sent the ball soaring over ten feet high, glittering and shining in midair, dazzling the eyes. Suddenly, the ball came hurtling from afar, landing directly in the boat where Wang Shixiu sat. Wang Shixiu felt an itch in his toes and, with a powerful kick, sent the ball flying, finding it light and soft to the touch. His kick was so fierce that it seemed to break the ball, which rose over ten feet high, leaking a stream of light that, as the ball descended, traced a brilliant rainbow across the night sky. Finally, with a hiss, the ball plunged swiftly into the water, like a comet streaking across the heavens into the depths, and the water emitted a sound like a boiling cauldron, bubbling up before vanishing. The feasters all shouted in anger, "What stranger dares to spoil our pleasure?" But the old man laughed and said, "Well done, well done! That kick was my family's secret 'Meteor Twist' technique." The man in white was greatly displeased by the old man's careless words and roared, "We are all in a fury, why does this old servant take such delight? Go at once with Little Wupi and seize that insolent fellow, or else your thighs will feel the rod!" Wang Shixiu, seeing that escape was unlikely, felt no fear and, grasping a broadsword, stood ready at the prow of the boat to meet the attack.
In the blink of an eye, the boy and the old man, weapons in hand, had already arrived before him. Wang Shixiu looked closely and saw that the old man was indeed his father, so he cried out loudly, "Father! Your son is here." The old man, startled by the voice, turned pale with shock, and as father and son gazed at each other, their hearts were filled with sorrow. Seeing this, the boy hurriedly turned back. The old man said, "My son, hide quickly, or we will both die!" Before his words had faded, the three figures at the feast had suddenly boarded Wang Shixiu's boat. Their faces were pitch-black, their eyes larger than pomegranates, and they seized the old man to take him away. Wang Shixiu struggled fiercely with them, the boat rocking violently until the mooring rope snapped. With a single slash of his knife, he severed the arm of a man in yellow, who fled with a cry. Then a man in white charged at Wang Shixiu, who struck off his head with a blow; the head fell into the water with a dull thud and sank. Wang Shixiu intended to cross the lake under cover of night, when suddenly he saw a huge mouth rise from the water, as deep as a well, with the lake water rushing into it from all sides, making a booming sound. Suddenly, the mouth spewed a column of water, raising monstrous waves that seemed to touch the stars, and all the boats on the lake pitched violently. The people on board were terrified. By chance, Wang Shixiu's boat carried two large stone drums, each weighing a hundred catties. He lifted one and hurled it into the gaping mouth in the lake, where it struck with a thunderous roar, and then the waves gradually subsided. He threw the second stone drum, and the lake surface immediately became calm. Wang Shixiu suspected his father was a ghost, but the old man said, "I was never dead. The nineteen people who drowned in the river that year were all devoured by the demon, but I survived because I was skilled at kicking a ball. The demon offended the Water God of Qiantang River and fled to hide in Lake Dongting. Those three were all fish spirits, and the ball they kicked was a fish bladder." Father and son rejoiced in their reunion and rowed away in the dead of night. At dawn, they saw a large fish fin in the boat, about four or five spans thick, and realized it was the arm of the fish spirit in yellow that had been cut off during the night.
Commentary
In traditional culture, China was an agricultural nation and did not place great emphasis on water resources. Even among supernatural beings, one often hears of mountain spirits, tree goblins, wolves, insects, tigers, and leopards, while tales of fish, turtles, shrimp, and crabs are comparatively rare. This is true in the strange tales of the Six Dynasties and the legends of the Tang Dynasty, and it is likewise so in Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio.
The tale of "Wang Shixiu" is a rare story about fish spirits: it depicts fish spirits playing cuju with a fish bladder on the water's surface under a moonlit night. Whether describing the fish spirits' attire—"their headdresses were all black, towering high and draping down to their shoulders, of an utterly strange and ancient style"—their appearance—"their faces were pitch-black, their eyes larger than pomegranates"—or the cuju ball itself—"as large as an armful, filled within as if with liquid mercury, translucent both inside and out"—the game unfolds as "they kicked it over ten feet high, its shimmering light dazzling the eyes," and "when struck fiercely, it seemed to burst, leaping several yards, with light leaking from within, shooting down like a rainbow, falling with a dull thud, like a comet streaking across the sky, plunging straight into the water, rolling and bubbling until it vanished." Even the battle with the fish spirits showcases Pu Songling's astonishing imagination and expressive power! Wang Yuyang praised it, saying: "This passage is also wildly fantastical."