Original Text
Luo Zifu was a native of Binzhou in Shaanxi. His parents died when he was very young, and from the age of eight or nine, he was raised by his uncle, Luo Daye. Luo Daye was an official in the Imperial Academy, a man of considerable wealth but without an heir; he cherished Luo Zifu dearly, treating him as his own son. At fourteen, Luo Zifu fell under the influence of wicked men and became addicted to visiting brothels. At that time, a courtesan from Jinling had taken up residence in Binzhou, and Luo Zifu was deeply infatuated with her, utterly bewitched. When the courtesan returned to Jinling, Luo Zifu secretly followed her, leaving his home. He lived in her establishment for half a year, until all his silver was spent, and then he began to suffer the mockery and disdain of the other courtesans, though they did not immediately cast him out. Soon after, Luo Zifu contracted a venereal disease; his lower body festered, and the foul pus stained the bedding and mats everywhere, until at last the courtesans drove him out. Sick and penniless, he was reduced to begging in the streets, where people fled from him at the mere sight, fearing contamination. Fearing he would die in a foreign land, he journeyed westward, begging for food as he made his way home. Each day he managed to travel thirty or forty li, and as the days passed, he gradually approached the borders of Binzhou. Seeing his tattered clothes and the festering sores covering his body, he felt utterly ashamed to face his relatives, and so he lingered in a neighboring county, unable to proceed further.
One evening, Luo Zifu planned to seek shelter for the night in a mountain temple. Before the mountain, he encountered a woman of extraordinary beauty, like a celestial maiden descending from heaven. As Luo Zifu drew near, she asked, "Where are you bound?" Luo Zifu truthfully recounted his circumstances. The woman said, "I am a recluse; my dwelling is a cave where you may stay, and you need not fear tigers or wolves at all." Overjoyed, Luo Zifu followed her. Deep in the mountains, they indeed found a large cave; upon entering, they saw a small stream flowing before the cave's entrance, spanned by a little stone bridge. A few steps further inside, two stone chambers appeared, brightly lit without need of lamps or candles. The woman bade Luo Zifu shed his tattered garments and bathe in the stream, saying, "Wash yourself, and your festering sores will naturally heal." After his bath, the woman parted the curtains, spread the bedding, and urged him to sleep early, saying, "Rest quickly, for I shall make you a set of clothes." With that, she took a large leaf resembling a banana leaf, and cut and sewed it into garments, while Luo Zifu lay on the bed watching her. Soon the clothes were finished; she folded them and placed them at his bedside, saying, "Put them on when you rise tomorrow morning." Then she slept on the bed opposite him. After bathing in the stream, Luo Zifu's sores ceased to ache. Waking at midnight, he touched his sores and found them covered with thick scabs. At dawn, as he prepared to rise, he recalled the banana-leaf clothes by the bed and felt some doubt; picking them up, he saw they were smooth green brocade. After a while, it was time for breakfast. The woman gathered some mountain leaves, calling them cakes; when Luo Zifu ate them, they were indeed cakes. She also cut leaves into shapes of chickens and fish, cooked them in a pot, and when Luo Zifu picked them up to eat, they tasted exactly like the real things. In a corner of the stone chamber stood a large jar filled with fine wine, which the woman often drank; whenever a little was consumed, she replenished it with stream water. After several days in the mountains, Luo Zifu's scabs all fell off, and he begged to share her bed. The woman said, "You frivolous creature! Scarcely have you saved your life and settled down, and already you indulge in wild thoughts!" Luo Zifu replied, "I only wish to repay your kindness." From then on, they shared the same bed, loving each other dearly, and were exceedingly happy.
One day, a young woman entered the cave with a smile, and as soon as she stepped inside, she said, "Pianpian, you little wretch, you must be overjoyed! When did this good deed between you two come to pass?" Pianpian went out to greet her, laughing, and said, "So it's Lady Huacheng who has come! Such a noble guest has been absent for so long—today the southwest wind must have blown fiercely to carry you here! Have you borne a little son yet?" Lady Huacheng replied, "Another little girl." Pianpian laughed and said, "Lady Huacheng, you are a tile kiln indeed! But why did you not bring her along?" Lady Huacheng answered, "I just coaxed her for a while, and now she is sleeping." With that, Lady Huacheng sat down gracefully, lifted her wine cup, and sipped slowly. She then gazed at Luo Zifu and said, "Young sir, you have burned high incense indeed." Luo Zifu studied her closely; she seemed about twenty-three or twenty-four years old, with a lovely countenance and captivating manner, and his heart was stirred with desire for her again. Distracted, he peeled a piece of fruit and carelessly dropped it beneath the table. He bent down as if to retrieve it, but secretly pinched Lady Huacheng's foot. She looked elsewhere, laughing and chatting as if unaware of anything. As Luo Zifu drifted into wild thoughts, he suddenly felt his clothes grow cold, and when he looked down, they had all turned into withered autumn leaves. Nearly frightened to death, he quickly composed himself and sat upright; after a while, his garments gradually returned to their former state, and he secretly rejoiced that the two women had not seen his shame. A little later, while urging her to drink, he lightly scratched Lady Huacheng's palm with his finger. She continued talking and laughing as if she had noticed nothing at all. Luo Zifu's heart pounded wildly, his mind in a daze, and suddenly he found his clothes had turned to leaves again; it took a long while before they changed back. Filled with shame, he finally abandoned his lecherous intentions toward Lady Huacheng and dared not think of any further mischief. Lady Huacheng laughed and said, "This young sir of yours is not very well-behaved! If not for the vinegar-jar lady's discipline, he would likely leap up to the heavens." Pianpian smiled faintly and said, "Faithless wretch, you deserve to be frozen to death!" Both women clapped their hands and laughed heartily. Lady Huacheng rose from her seat and took her leave, saying, "The little girl will soon wake, and I fear she will cry her heart out." Pianpian also stood up and said, "So absorbed in seducing another's husband, you've long forgotten little Jiangcheng's wailing." After Lady Huacheng departed, Luo Zifu's mind was in turmoil, dreading that Pianpian would scold him, but she treated him just as before.
After some days, the deep autumn arrived, with biting cold winds and frost stripping the leaves. Pianpian began to gather fallen leaves and store provisions for the winter. Seeing Luo Zifu shivering with his neck tucked in from the cold, she took a cloth bundle, picked up patches of white clouds at the cave entrance, wrapped them into a package, and made him a lined jacket as if it were cotton. When Luo Zifu put it on, he felt warm, light, soft, and fluffy, just like wearing a new cotton-padded coat. The following year, Pianpian gave birth to a son, who was exceptionally clever and handsome. Luo Zifu spent his days in the cave amusing himself with the child. Yet he often longed for his hometown and begged Pianpian to return with him. Pianpian said, "I cannot go back with you; you may go alone if you wish." Thus, two or three more years passed, and the son gradually grew up, becoming betrothed to the daughter of Lady Huacheng. Luo Zifu frequently worried about his aged uncle, but Pianpian comforted him, saying, "Though your uncle is advanced in years, he is still robust; you need not fret. Once we have raised our son to adulthood and completed his marriage, you may stay or leave as you please." In the cave, Pianpian often wrote on leaves to teach their son to read, and the boy, gifted with a sharp mind, never forgot what he learned. Pianpian said, "This child bears a fortunate countenance; if he goes into the mortal world, becoming a prime minister might not be difficult." A few years later, their son turned fourteen. Lady Huacheng personally brought her daughter Jiangcheng to be wed. Jiangcheng, dressed in splendid ceremonial robes, had bright, flowing eyes and a radiant, dazzling beauty. Luo Zifu and Pianpian were overjoyed, and the whole family gathered for a grand wedding feast. At the banquet, Pianpian tapped her gold hairpin and sang: "I have a fine son, I envy not a prime minister. I have a fine daughter-in-law, I envy not brocade robes. Tonight we gather together, let all be merry. I raise a cup to you, urging you to eat well." Later, Lady Huacheng departed, and Pianpian and her husband lived opposite their son and daughter-in-law. The new bride was exceptionally filial, often nestling by her mother-in-law's knee as if she were their own daughter. Luo Zifu again brought up the matter of returning home. Pianpian said, "You have a mortal bone; you are ultimately not one who can become an immortal. Our son, too, is destined for worldly honors. You may take him with you; I do not wish to hinder his future." Just as the new bride was about to bid farewell to her mother, Lady Huacheng arrived. The young couple clung to their mothers, reluctant to part, their eyes brimming with tears. The two mothers comforted them, saying, "Go for now; you may return later." Then Pianpian cut leaves into the shape of a donkey, and the three of them rode it on their journey. By this time, Luo Zifu's uncle, Luo Daye, had retired from office and was living at home in leisure. He had long believed his nephew Luo Zifu was dead. That day, when he suddenly saw his nephew returning with a handsome grandson and a beautiful granddaughter-in-law, he was overjoyed, as if he had found a priceless treasure. As the three entered the house, each looked at their own clothes and saw they were made of banana leaves. When they tugged at them, the leaves tore, and the white clouds that had been the padding slowly rose into the sky. So they all changed their clothes. Later, Luo Zifu missed Pianpian and took his son deep into the mountains to search for her. They found only the familiar paths covered with fallen yellow leaves, and the road to the cave entrance was blocked by thick, drifting white clouds, impossible to recognize. Father and son could only return in tears.
The Chronicler of Strange Tales remarks: Pianpian and Lady Huacheng were likely immortals, were they not? To eat leaves and don clouds as garments—how extraordinary a thing! Yet, within the boudoir, their laughter and scolding, the joys of love between man and woman, and the bearing of children—how were these any different from the mortal world? Luo Zifu dwelt in the mountains for fifteen years, and though he did not witness the passage of time that leaves cities unchanged but their people transformed, when he returned to the cave in search of Pianpian, there were only drifting white clouds and no trace of the old haunts to be found. This scene truly resembled the plight of Liu Chen and Ruan Zhao of the Eastern Han, who revisited the fairy maidens only to find all changed.
Commentary
This is a story about a young man with a tarnished past who, during a time of misfortune, encounters a celestial maiden, receives her aid, and ultimately marries her and fathers children.
The dwelling place of the celestial maiden is not a heavenly palace, but a grotto in the mortal realm, "with a stream spanning its gate, crossed by a stone bridge." Green foods and eco-friendly garments are all woven by the fairy Pianpian herself; she shares intimate whispers with her bosom friends, enjoys the pleasures of love and sensual allure, and delights in children playing at her knees, savoring the joys of family life. Most notably, the tale portrays Pianpian's kindness and benevolence toward the fallen Luo Zifu, her magnanimity, ease, tolerance, and independence in family matters, making her feel approachable, warm, refined, and otherworldly. Pianpian, tapping her hairpin, sings: "I have a fine son, and envy not the high officials; I have a fine daughter-in-law, and envy not the silken robes. Tonight we gather, and all should rejoice. I pour wine for you, urging you to eat your fill." This song epitomizes the celestial maiden's values in life. The story, in both setting and characters, mirrors the mortal world, yet transcends it, imbued with a fairy-tale quality.
The fairy "took a large leaf resembling a banana, cut and stitched it to make a garment," "gathered mountain leaves and called them cakes; when eaten, they were indeed cakes; she also cut them into chickens and fish, and when cooked, they tasted exactly like the real things," "held a cloth to gather white clouds at the cave entrance, making them into wadding for a coat; when worn, it was as warm as a lined garment, and as light and soft as new cotton." The clothes could also repair themselves and discard themselves at will, fully displaying Pu Songling's extraordinary imagination. The dialogue among the fairies was lively and vivid, making them seem as if one could hear and see them, showcasing Pu Songling's profound skill in rendering classical Chinese into colloquial speech. Though this tale is not long, its structure is quite ingenious. For instance, the depiction of Luo Zifu's misdeeds as visiting prostitutes and being frivolous foreshadows his later lewd thoughts and improper behavior upon the arrival of Huacheng. Similarly, Huacheng appears only twice in the story, each time arriving alone, which keeps the narrative focused and saves much ink.