Original Text
Liu Fanghua was a native of Baoding. His wealth was unmatched in the countryside, and he was exceedingly generous and fond of entertaining guests, often hosting a hundred visitors at his table. He was always quick to relieve others in distress, never hesitating to spend even a thousand taels of silver. His guests and friends frequently borrowed money from him and often failed to repay it, yet Liu Fanghua never took it to heart. Only one guest, named Gong Mengbi, a man from Shaanxi, never asked for anything from the Liu family. Whenever he came to stay, he would usually remain for a year. Gong Mengbi was refined in conversation, and Liu Fanghua would often sit with him through the night, talking endlessly. Liu Fanghua had a son named Liu He, who was still a child at the time. He called Gong Mengbi "Uncle," and Gong Mengbi enjoyed playing games with him. Whenever Liu He returned from school, Gong Mengbi would often join him in lifting the floor tiles, burying pebbles as if they were gold and silver treasures, amusing themselves with this game. The Liu family had five buildings, and the area before and behind them was thoroughly buried with these stones. People laughed at such childish behavior, but Liu He was particularly fond of Gong Mengbi, closer to him than to any other guest. Over a decade later, Liu Fanghua's fortune gradually dwindled, and he could no longer satisfy the demands of so many guests, so their numbers slowly decreased. Nevertheless, it was still common to have a dozen or so people feasting through the night. As Liu Fanghua aged, his estate declined further, but he could still sell off some land to raise money for wine and dishes. Liu He was also quite spendthrift, imitating his father by befriending young idlers, and Liu Fanghua never interfered. Soon, Liu Fanghua fell ill and died, leaving the family too poor to afford a coffin. Gong Mengbi then used his own money to arrange the funeral. For this, Liu He was deeply grateful, entrusting all household matters, great and small, to Gong Mengbi's care. Whenever Gong Mengbi returned from outside, he would always carry a few pebbles in his sleeve, and upon entering the house, he would toss them into a dark corner, with no one understanding his intent. Liu He often sat with Gong Mengbi, lamenting their poverty, and Gong Mengbi said, "You do not know the hardships of making a living. It is not just that we have no money now; even if a thousand taels were given to you at once, you would squander it all in no time. A man's fear is not being able to stand on his own—why should he fear poverty?" One day, Gong Mengbi decided to return to his hometown and came to bid Liu He farewell. Liu He wept and urged him to return quickly, and Gong Mengbi promised before leaving the Liu household. Thereafter, Liu He's circumstances worsened until he could barely sustain himself, and all valuable items in the house had been pawned away. Day after day, Liu He longed for Gong Mengbi to come and manage his ruined estate, but Gong Mengbi vanished without a trace, like a yellow crane that had flown away, never to return.
When Liu Fanghua was alive, he had arranged a marriage for his son Liu He with the daughter of the wealthy Huang family of Wuji County. Later, when Huang heard that the Liu family had fallen into poverty, he secretly conceived the idea of breaking off the engagement. When the obituary of Liu Fanghua's death was delivered to his home, he did not even go to offer condolences. Liu He assumed it was due to the great distance and inconvenient travel, and thus forgave him. After Liu He completed the mourning period for his father, his mother urged him to visit his future father-in-law in person to set a wedding date, hoping that the Huang family might take pity on their misfortune and offer assistance. When Liu He arrived at the Huang residence, Huang, upon hearing that Liu He came dressed in tattered clothes and worn-out shoes, ordered the gatekeeper not to let him in. Huang sent word to Liu He: "Go back and get a hundred taels of silver, then you may return; otherwise, the marriage contract between our families is hereby annulled." Upon hearing this, Liu He wept bitterly. Across the street from the Huang home lived an old woman surnamed Liu, who took pity on Liu He's plight. She invited him to share a meal and, as he left, gave him three hundred cash coins, comforting him and urging him to return home. When Liu He came back, his mother, upon learning of the cold reception he had received at his father-in-law's house, was both grieved and indignant, but could think of no solution. She recalled that most of the debts owed to the Liu family by former guests remained unpaid, so she told Liu He to seek help from those among the old acquaintances who were wealthy and influential. Liu He said: "Those who associated with us in the past were all drawn by our family's wealth. If I were to ride in a grand carriage drawn by four horses and ask for a loan, even a thousand taels would not be difficult. But in our current straitened circumstances, who would still remember past kindnesses or old friendships? Moreover, Father gave money to others without ever taking promissory notes or guarantors, so there is no evidence to demand repayment." His mother insisted, and Liu He had no choice but to obey. He traveled about seeking help and pressing for debts for over twenty days, but did not obtain a single coin. Only a man named Li Si, a performer who had once received favors from the Liu family, upon hearing of their decline, generously sent one tael of silver. Liu He and his mother embraced and wept bitterly, and from then on abandoned all hope.
Now, the daughter of the Huang family had reached the age for marriage, and when she heard that her father had rejected Liu He, she was deeply displeased in her heart. The Huangs wished to marry their daughter to another man, but the Huang girl wept, saying, "Brother Liu was not born a poor man. If he were now even wealthier than before, would those who bear us a grudge snatch him from our hands? Today, to abandon him because of his poverty is utterly unrighteous!" Huang, hearing this, was greatly vexed and tried every means to persuade and coax her, but the girl remained steadfast and unmoved. Both her parents grew furious, scolding and cursing her from morning till night, yet she bore it all with calm composure. Not long after, one night, the Huang household was plundered by bandits; the couple suffered the torture of branding and were nearly beaten to death, while all their possessions were swept away. Unbeknownst to them, three years passed, and the Huang family's fortunes declined even further. A merchant from the west, hearing of the Huang girl's beauty, offered fifty taels of silver as a betrothal gift to take her as his wife. Greedy for the small profit, Huang readily agreed and planned to force his daughter to marry the merchant. Discovering their scheme, the girl tore her clothes, smeared her face with dirt, and fled her home under cover of night. Begging her way along, after two months of arduous travel, she finally reached Baoding and, learning of Liu He's dwelling, entered his home directly, disregarding all the formalities of a new bride. Liu He's mother initially mistook her for a beggar and bade her leave quickly, but the Huang girl sobbed and recounted her tale through tears. After hearing her story, the mother took her hand and wept, saying, "My child, how have you come to such a wretched state!" Then the girl sorrowfully told of how she had been forced to ruin her clothes and face to flee, and both Liu He and his mother were moved to tears. They then had her bathe and wash, and when she emerged, her countenance was indeed radiant and beautiful, delighting mother and son alike. Yet Liu He's household was so poor that the three of them could only manage one meal a day. The mother wept to her daughter-in-law, saying, "It is fitting that my son and I endure poverty, but how pitiful you are! My good daughter-in-law suffers so!" The Huang girl smiled and comforted her, saying, "I have lived among beggars and know well the taste of that life; compared to now, it is like the difference between heaven and hell." Hearing this, the mother was relieved and smiled with contentment.
One day, Lady Huang went to look at the vacant old house, where wild grasses grew thickly, leaving not a patch of bare ground. She slowly entered the inner chamber, finding only thick dust everywhere; in the dark corner by the wall, something seemed to be piled up. She kicked it, but her foot was painfully stung. Bending down to pick up a piece, she saw it was all fine silver. Astonished, she hurried back to tell Liu He. Liu He followed her to see for himself, and found that the rubble and pebbles that Gong Mengbi had once brought back in his sleeves and cast into the dark corners had all turned into silver. Liu He then recalled how, as a child, he often played with Uncle Gong, burying stones under the floor tiles of various rooms—could those also have turned into silver? Since the old house had long been mortgaged to a creditor, Liu He hastily redeemed it. He found the floor tiles already broken and missing, with the buried stones exposed and clearly visible, which disappointed him. But when he lifted other tiles, he saw piles of gleaming white silver beneath them. In an instant, the Liu family became immensely wealthy again, with fortunes amounting to tens of thousands. They began to redeem their pawned fields and properties, hire servants and maids, and their mansion’s splendor surpassed even its former glory. After such a tumultuous experience, Liu He spurred himself on, saying, “If I do not stand on my own, I will have failed Uncle Gong’s sincere devotion.” From then on, he studied diligently, and three years later, he was selected as a model of learning and virtue in his village. Once restored to wealth, Liu He did not forget his benefactor. He personally took silver to reward the kind old Mrs. Liu, who lived opposite the Huang family. Dressed in resplendent new clothes, accompanied by over a dozen servants, all riding tall horses like dragons, he arrived with great fanfare. Old Mrs. Liu had only a single room, and Liu He sat on her bed. For a time, the alley was filled with the clamor of men and horses. After the Huang family’s daughter had left, the Western merchant pressed them to return the betrothal gifts, but half had already been spent, and they could not repay the full amount. Helpless, Huang had to sell his house to settle the debt. From then on, the Huang family became as poor as the Lius had once been. Now, when old Huang heard of his son-in-law’s wealth and prominence, he was overwhelmed with shame and regret, only closing his door in sorrow. Old Mrs. Liu bought wine and food to entertain Liu He, and during their talk, she praised Lady Huang’s virtue and lamented that she had fled to an unknown place. She asked Liu He if he had married, and he replied, “I have long been wed.” After the meal, Liu He insisted on taking Old Mrs. Liu to see his new wife, and they rode together back to Baoding. As soon as they entered the gate, Lady Huang, in splendid attire, came out to greet them, surrounded by a throng of maids, like a celestial fairy. Old Mrs. Liu was astonished at the sight of Lady Huang. They clasped hands and spoke of old times, and Lady Huang earnestly inquired about her parents’ welfare. Old Mrs. Liu stayed at the Liu home for several days, treated with exceptional hospitality; the Lius had fine clothes made for her, dressing her anew from head to toe, and then Liu He saw her safely home.
As soon as Old Mrs. Liu returned home, she went straight to the Huang family across the street and reported to Mr. and Mrs. Huang about their daughter's situation, also conveying her greetings. The Huangs were utterly astonished upon hearing this. Old Mrs. Liu urged them to go and seek refuge with their daughter, but Old Huang showed reluctance. Not long after, unable to bear the bitter cold and hunger, Old Huang had no choice but to go to Baoding to seek shelter with his daughter. When he arrived at Liu He's gate, he saw a tall and magnificent gatehouse, and the gatekeeper glared at him fiercely. He waited outside the gate for an entire day, but the gatekeeper did not announce his presence. Just then, a woman came out from within the gate. Old Huang stepped forward, forcing a smile and speaking politely, telling her his name and begging her to secretly pass a message to his daughter. After a while, the woman came out and led him inside, taking him to a small room beside the main hall. She said, "My mistress wishes to see you immediately, but she fears the master might find out, so she must wait for an opportunity. When did you arrive, venerable sir? Are you hungry?" Old Huang told her of his arduous journey. The woman then brought a jug of wine and two plates of food and set them before him. She also took out five taels of silver and handed them to him, saying, "Our master is feasting guests in the main hall right now, so my mistress likely has no chance to come out. Leave early tomorrow morning, and be sure not to let the master know." Old Huang agreed. The next morning at dawn, he packed his belongings and left. When he reached his daughter's house, the gate was not yet open, so he lingered in the gateway, sitting on his luggage to wait. Suddenly, a clamor arose, and he heard someone say the master was about to go out. Old Huang was about to grab his luggage and hastily hide, but Liu He had already seen him. Liu He found this strange and asked who the man was, but none of the servants could answer. Liu He said angrily, "He must be a villain up to no good! Tie him up and send him to the yamen!" The servants responded in unison, took out ropes, bound him tightly, and tied him to a tree in the courtyard. Old Huang was both ashamed and terrified, unable to utter a single word. While this was happening, the woman from the day before ran out, fell to her knees with a thud before Liu He, and said, "He is my uncle. Because he arrived too late yesterday, I had no chance to inform you, master." Only then did Liu He order the servants to untie him. The woman escorted Old Huang out of the gate and said, "It is all my fault for forgetting to tell the gatekeeper, which caused this mishap. My mistress said that if you wish to see her, you can have the old lady pretend to be a flower seller and come together with Old Mrs. Liu." Old Huang assented repeatedly and left. When he returned home, he told his wife everything that had happened.
Mother Huang yearned for her daughter with an insatiable longing, so she begged Old Madam Liu to help her, and Old Madam Liu indeed agreed to accompany her on a visit to Liu He's home. The two elderly women entered the courtyard and passed through over a dozen gates before reaching the place where the daughter resided. They saw Huang's daughter adorned in a feathered cape, her hair piled high in an elaborate coiffure, draped entirely in silk and satin, glittering with pearls and jewels, while the room was thick with intoxicating fragrance; at her softest whisper, the maids and serving women bustled about to her bedside, some fetching a gold-lacquered armchair, others bringing a bamboo stool for summer comfort, and clever maidservants pouring fragrant tea for the old ladies. Mother and daughter exchanged greetings in hushed tones, their eyes meeting, hot tears streaming down. At nightfall, the servants prepared a guest room for the two elderly women to rest, with bedding so light and soft that even in the days of the Huang family's wealth, Mother Huang had never enjoyed such luxury. They stayed at Liu He's home for three or five days, and Huang's daughter treated them with deep affection and warmth. Often, when no one else was around, Mother Huang would weep bitterly, confessing her early faults. The daughter said, "What irreconcilable grievance is there between us mother and daughter? Only Lord Liu still harbors resentment, and I dare not let him know." So whenever Liu He came, Mother Huang would hastily withdraw and hide. One day, as the daughter sat on the bed in intimate conversation with her mother, Liu He suddenly entered; seeing this, he roared in anger, "What sort of creature is this country hag, daring to sit with my lady? I ought to pluck out every hair from your temples!" Old Madam Liu quickly stepped forward and said, "This old woman is my acquaintance, Sister Wang, here to sell flowers; pray do not scold her." Liu He then calmed down, stepped forward to bow in apology, and after sitting, said, "Grandmother has been here for several days; I have been too busy to find time for a proper chat. Are those two old beasts of the Huang family still alive?" Old Madam Liu smiled and replied, "They are both well, though they are so poor they can barely get by. Now that you, sir, are so wealthy and honored, why not consider the bond between father-in-law and son-in-law?" Liu He slammed the table upon hearing this and said, "If it were not for your kindness, Grandmother, in giving me a bowl of porridge, how could I have ever returned to my hometown! Thinking of this, I now wish to flay their skin and sit upon it—what bond is there to speak of!" In his fury, he even stamped his feet and cursed loudly. Huang's daughter grew somewhat angry and said, "Though they be unkind and unjust, they are still my parents. I came to you, undaunted by the long journey, my hands chapped with frostbite, my toes wearing through my shoes, believing I had done nothing to wrong you; why must you curse my parents before others, deliberately causing me shame?" Liu He then suppressed his anger and rose to leave.
Upon hearing Liu He's words, Mother Huang felt both ashamed and mortified, utterly at a loss for where to hide her face, and intended to take her leave and return home; as she was departing, her daughter secretly gave her twenty taels of silver. After returning home, all news of the Huang couple ceased, and the Huang daughter grew particularly anxious for them; Liu He, pitying his wife, sent someone to invite them to Baoding. When the Huang couple arrived at Liu's home, they were both so ashamed they could not lift their heads. Liu He apologized to them, saying, "Last year, when you came with great effort and did not reveal your identities, I was truly remiss in my hospitality." Huang merely murmured in assent. Liu He had new clothes, shoes, and socks prepared for the Huang couple. They stayed for over a month, yet Huang still felt uneasy and repeatedly asked to return home. As they were leaving, Liu He presented them with one hundred taels of silver, saying, "In those days, the Western merchant offered fifty taels; today I double that sum for you." Huang accepted it with profound shame. Liu He sent them back to their hometown by carriage and horse, and their later years could be described as comfortably well-off.
The Chronicler of the Strange remarks: When a noble family falls into decline, its former retainers vanish without a trace—this is truly infuriating, and one might wish to bolt the gates forever, resolving never to entertain a single guest again. Yet a true friend who pays for the burial of the dead and turns stone to gold to aid the living cannot but be seen as a reward for those who were generous and hospitable. A woman of the inner chambers, enjoying wealth and honor as if she were a consort in the imperial palace, could not sit with such ease and a clear conscience unless she possessed the steadfast virtue of the Yellow Maiden. The Creator does not bestow blessings haphazardly—this tale illustrates that truth as well.
In a certain village of olden times there lived a wealthy man who hoarded his wealth thread by thread and scraped together every last penny, amassing a great fortune. He buried several hundred taels of silver beneath the earth, and fearing lest anyone discover it, he always deliberately wore tattered rags and fed on coarse husks and wild herbs to feign extreme poverty. When relatives or friends occasionally visited, he never once killed a chicken or prepared a dish to entertain them. If anyone dared to suggest that his family was not poor, he would glare with eyes blazing in fury, as though they bore him an irreconcilable enmity. In his later years, this rich man consumed only a pint of elm bark each day, growing so gaunt that the skin on his arms hung down more than an inch, yet he still refused to touch the silver buried in the earth. At length, his body wasted away to the point of death, and his two sons gathered around him, asking where the silver was hidden, but he was still unwilling to reveal it at once. Only when he felt his end drawing near did he intend to tell them. His sons came close, but his tongue had grown stiff and could not utter a sound; he could only claw desperately at his chest and cry out in hoarse, inarticulate groans. After the rich man died, his descendants could not afford a coffin and had to wrap his corpse in a straw mat for burial. Alas! From this we see that if having silver buried in the house is counted as wealth, then why cannot the treasury of the imperial storehouse, with its millions of gold coins, be reckoned as one's own fortune? How utterly foolish this is!
Commentary
Although the story is titled "Gong Mengbi," it actually recounts the tale of Liu He's family, which experiences a decline from prosperity to poverty and then a resurgence from poverty back to prosperity. Through this narrative, it fully exposes the fickle and shallow nature of worldly human relationships, condemning the social phenomenon of despising the poor and currying favor with the rich.
Gong Mengbi appears only at the beginning of the tale, and although he plays a crucial role in the restoration of the Liu family, he does not run through the entire narrative—a rarity in the composition of "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio." After the Liu family fell into poverty, he instructed Liu He, saying, "A man should worry about his lack of self-reliance, not about poverty." Readers eagerly anticipate how Liu He would revive the family fortunes through his own efforts, yet the story merely recounts how Liu He's wife discovered the gold that Gong Mengbi had buried, leading to the family's wealth, without showing much of Liu He's self-reliance. The phrase "He studied assiduously behind closed doors and passed the provincial examination within three years" is too brief and seems overly simplistic. The tale's conclusion focuses more on how Liu He mocked and took revenge on his former father-in-law and mother-in-law, who had despised poverty and valued wealth—though satisfying, it appears excessive, "seeming too much like posturing" (as Feng Zhenluan commented).
"Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio" depicts impoverished life with great realism and vividness, yet when portraying the lives of wealthy households, it often appears constrained and inadequate, which likely relates to Pu Songling's own life experiences.
The appended story criticizes the conservative financial notions of local rural landlords, targeting not their pretense of poverty but their failure to set currency in motion, for the line "If hoarding gold is considered wealth, then why cannot the millions in the imperial treasury be claimed as mine?" reveals Pu Songling's profound merchant consciousness.