Original Text
Among those implicated and executed in the Yu Qi case, the counties of Qixia and Laiyang suffered the greatest number of deaths. One day, several hundred people were captured and all put to death on the drill ground, where blood soaked the earth and corpses piled up like a mountain. The high officials, moved by compassion, donated coffins, to the extent that the coffin shops in the city of Jinan were completely emptied of their stock. Thus, most of the wronged ghosts from eastern Shandong were buried in the southern suburbs of Jinan.
In the thirteenth year of the Kangxi reign, a scholar from Laiyang came to Jinan, and because two or three of his relatives and friends were among those executed, he bought some paper money and held a memorial sacrifice for them in the wilderness, then rented a room in a nearby temple lodging. The next day, the Laiyang scholar went into the city on business and had not returned by nightfall. Suddenly, a young man came to visit his room. Seeing that the Laiyang scholar was not there, he took off his hat, got onto the bed, and lay on his back with his shoes still on. The servant asked who he was, but he closed his eyes and did not answer. Shortly after, the Laiyang scholar returned, and in the dim twilight, it was hard to recognize who he was, so he went to the bedside himself to inquire. The visitor stared and said, "I am waiting for your master. Why do you pester me with endless questions? Do you take me for a bandit?" The Laiyang scholar smiled and said, "Your master is right here." The young man hastily rose, put on his hat, made a bow with clasped hands, and sat down, exchanging warm greetings. The Laiyang scholar found the visitor's voice familiar and quickly called for a lamp to be lit; only then did he recognize the man as Zhu Sheng, a fellow townsman who had also perished in the Yu Qi case. The Laiyang scholar was greatly alarmed and turned to flee. Zhu Sheng grabbed him and said, "You and I are friends through letters—how can you be so unfeeling? Though I am a ghost, my longing for friends lingers in my heart and is hard to forget. Today I come to trouble you, but I hope you will not suspect or despise me because I am a ghost." The Laiyang scholar then sat down and asked him what he had come for. Zhu Sheng said, "Your niece lives alone, without a spouse, and I wish to take her as my wife. I have repeatedly sent matchmakers, but she always excuses herself by saying there is no elder to decide for her. Therefore, I hope you will speak well on my behalf." Previously, the Laiyang scholar had a niece whose mother died early; she was entrusted to his care, and only returned to her own home at the age of fifteen. She had been captured and brought to Jinan, and upon hearing that her father was killed, she was struck with terror and grief, and also passed away. The Laiyang scholar said, "She has her own father to decide for her—why do you ask me?" Zhu Sheng replied, "Her father's coffin has been moved away by her nephew and is no longer here." The Laiyang scholar asked, "On whom has my niece been relying all along?" Zhu Sheng said, "She lives with an old neighbor woman." The Laiyang scholar worried that a living person could not act as a matchmaker for a ghost, but Zhu Sheng said, "If you consent, you must still make the journey." He then rose and took the Laiyang scholar by the hand. The Laiyang scholar repeatedly declined and asked, "Where are we going?" Zhu Sheng said, "Just come along." The Laiyang scholar reluctantly followed him.
After walking north for about a li, they came upon a large village of perhaps a hundred households. Approaching a mansion, Zhu Sheng knocked at the door, and an old woman emerged, opening both leaves of the door, and asked Zhu Sheng his purpose. Zhu Sheng said, "I trouble you to inform the young lady: her maternal uncle has arrived." The old woman turned and went back inside, and after a while came out again to invite Scholar Laiyang to enter. She looked at Zhu Sheng and said, "The two thatched cottages are too cramped; I must trouble the young gentleman to wait outside for a moment." Scholar Laiyang followed the old woman through the gate, and saw a half-acre barren courtyard with two small huts. His niece, sobbing, greeted him at the door, and Scholar Laiyang also shed tears. The lamplight within was faint, but the niece's countenance was as fair and refined as in life; with tears in her eyes, she gazed fixedly at Scholar Laiyang and inquired one by one about the well-being of her aunt and her uncle's wife. Scholar Laiyang said, "They are all safe and well, only my wife has passed away." The niece then sobbed and said, "When I was young, I was raised by my uncle and aunt, and I have not repaid even a single strand of silk or a grain of rice; I never thought I would be the first to be cast into a ditch, truly a matter of deep regret. Last year, my elder cousin from my father's side moved my father's remains, but abandoned me without the slightest care, leaving me stranded hundreds of li away, as lonely and forlorn as an autumn swallow. Now that my uncle does not cast me aside because I am a departed soul, and has further graciously bestowed money and goods upon me, I have already received them." So Scholar Laiyang told his niece what Zhu Sheng had said, and the niece lowered her head and remained silent. The old woman said, "Previously, Young Master Zhu sent Old Woman Yang to come three or five times, and I thought the matter excellent, but the young lady would not act rashly on her own; now that her uncle is here to decide, it will satisfy her wishes."
As they were speaking, a young lady of seventeen or eighteen, followed by a maid, suddenly pushed open the door and entered. Catching a glimpse of Laiyang Scholar, she turned to leave. His niece tugged at her garment and said, "There is no need for that! This is my maternal uncle, not an outsider." Laiyang Scholar bowed to the young lady with clasped hands, and she returned the courtesy respectfully. His niece said, "This is Ninth Lady, of the Gongsun family from Qixia County. Her father was originally from a wealthy household, but now he has fallen into decline and is down on his luck. She only keeps company with me from time to time." Laiyang Scholar stole a glance at her; when she smiled, her brows curved like a crescent moon, and when she blushed, her cheeks glowed like the morning clouds—truly she seemed a celestial being. He then said, "One can see at a glance she is from a distinguished family; how could a girl from a humble household be so refined and beautiful!" His niece laughed and said, "She is also a female scholar; her poetry and prose are both excellent. In the past, I have even received some instruction from her." Gongsun Ninth Lady smiled faintly and said, "The little maid slanders people for no reason, making your uncle laugh at me." His niece laughed again and said, "My uncle lost his wife and has not yet remarried. Could such a young lady as this be to his liking?" Gongsun Ninth Lady laughed and ran out the door, saying, "The little maid has gone mad!" and then departed. Though the words were spoken in jest, Laiyang Scholar was indeed deeply taken with Gongsun Ninth Lady. His niece seemed to sense this and said, "Ninth Lady's talent and beauty are unmatched. If my uncle does not disdain her as one who dwells in the earth and harbor doubts, I will plead with her mother for the match." Laiyang Scholar was overjoyed, but worried that a union between a man and a ghost might be difficult. His niece said, "It is no obstacle; she is fated to be with you from a former life." Then Laiyang Scholar left the room. His niece saw him off and said, "In five days, when the moon is bright and all is quiet, I will send someone to fetch you."
Scholar Laiyang stepped outside the gate but did not see Zhu. He looked up toward the west, where a half-moon hung in the dim yellow light, and he could still recognize the old path he had taken earlier. To the south stood a mansion, and Zhu, seated on the stone base before its door, rose to greet him, saying, "I have waited long for you; pray honor my humble abode." He then took Laiyang by the hand and led him inside, expressing his heartfelt gratitude. Producing a golden wine cup and a hundred pearls from Jin, he said, "I have no other fine things; let these serve as betrothal gifts for the time being." After a moment, he added, "At home I have some coarse wine, but being of the netherworld, it cannot be offered to an honored guest—truly a pity!" Laiyang modestly declined the wine and soon took his leave. Zhu escorted him halfway before they parted. Returning to the monastery, Laiyang found the monks and servants gathered around, asking him all manner of questions. He concealed the truth, saying, "It is nonsense to speak of seeing ghosts; I have just been drinking with a friend."
Five days later, Zhu Sheng indeed arrived, wearing new shoes and waving a fan, looking exceedingly pleased and carefree. As he entered the courtyard, he spotted Laiyang Sheng from afar and immediately bowed in greeting. After a moment, he smiled and said, "Your wedding preparations are complete, and the happy event is set for tonight. Now I must trouble you to set out at once." Laiyang Sheng replied, "Since I have received no reply, I have yet to send the betrothal gifts. How can we hastily hold the wedding?" Zhu Sheng said, "I have already sent the betrothal gifts on your behalf." Laiyang Sheng expressed deep gratitude and followed him. They went straight to Zhu Sheng's dwelling, where they found his niece adorned in splendid finery, smiling as she came out to greet them. Laiyang Sheng asked, "When did you cross the threshold?" Zhu Sheng replied, "It has been three days since she came over." Laiyang Sheng then brought out the Jin pearl that Zhu Sheng had given him and offered it to his niece to purchase clothing. She declined repeatedly but finally accepted. She then told Laiyang Sheng, "I informed the old lady of the Gongsun family of my uncle's intentions, and she was greatly pleased. However, she said that she is old and advanced in years, with no other flesh and blood of her own, and does not wish for Ninth Lady to be married far away. She hopes that my uncle will enter her family as a son-in-law this very night. Since there is no man in her household, you may go with Zhu Lang now." Zhu Sheng then led the way for Laiyang Sheng.
When they reached the end of the village, they saw a mansion with its main gate wide open, and the two of them entered directly into the hall. After a moment, someone announced, "The old lady has arrived." Two maidservants were seen supporting an elderly woman as she ascended the steps. Scholar Laiyang prepared to bow, but the lady said, "I am advanced in years and cannot move easily, so I cannot return your courtesy; let us dispense with these formalities." She then ordered the maids to set out a feast and hold a grand wedding banquet. Scholar Zhu called for a servant to bring forth additional dishes, which were placed before Scholar Laiyang, along with a separate wine flagon for toasting. The food and drink at the banquet were no different from those in the mortal world, except that the host only drank by himself and never urged his guests to drink. Soon, the feast ended, and Scholar Zhu returned home. A maidservant led Scholar Laiyang into the bridal chamber, where Gongsun Jiuniang was already waiting devotedly before splendid lanterns and candles. Thus, they exchanged tender affections, their eyes full of unspoken passion, and they indulged in the utmost joy and intimacy. It turned out that Gongsun Jiuniang and her mother had originally been bound for the capital, but when they reached Jinan Prefecture, her mother perished from hardship and suffering, and Gongsun Jiuniang had also taken her own life by cutting her throat. As she lay on the pillow, recounting past events, she choked with sobs and could not sleep, so she improvised two seven-character quatrains, the first of which read:
The silken robes of yore have turned to dust, leaving only karmic retribution to lament the former self.
After ten years of dew-chilled maple groves beneath the moon, this night I first encounter the spring of a painted pavilion.
Another verse reads:
Around the lonely grave, white poplars rustle in wind and rain; who could have imagined that a tryst would be made among the clouds?
Suddenly opening the gilded chest to look within, the bloodstains still stained the old silk skirt.
As dawn was about to break, Gongsun Jiu Niang urged Laiyang Sheng, saying, "You should leave now, lest you disturb the servants." From then on, Laiyang Sheng came by night and departed by day, growing deeply infatuated and enamored with Gongsun Jiu Niang.
One evening, Scholar Laiyang asked Gongsun Jiuniang, "What is the name of this village?" Gongsun Jiuniang replied, "It is called Laixiali. Most of the villagers are new ghosts from Laiyang and Qixia counties, hence the name." Scholar Laiyang sighed deeply upon hearing this. Gongsun Jiuniang also said sorrowfully, "A lonely soul drifting a thousand li from home, like a tumbleweed with no place to rest, my mother and I are orphaned and forlorn, a tale that brings grief to the heart. I earnestly hope you will remember our marital bond, gather my bones, and bury them beside our ancestral graves, granting me an eternal resting place; this kindness I shall never forget." Scholar Laiyang agreed. Gongsun Jiuniang then said, "Humans and ghosts dwell in different realms; you should not linger here long." She gave him a pair of silk gauze stockings, tears streaming, urging him to leave quickly. Scholar Laiyang departed in sorrow, his heart filled with anguish and despair, reluctant to return immediately, so he went to knock on Zhu Sheng's door. Zhu Sheng came out barefoot to greet him, and his niece also rose, her cloud-like hair disheveled, asking in alarm what had happened. Scholar Laiyang, after a long melancholy pause, recounted Gongsun Jiuniang's words. His niece said, "Even if my aunt had not spoken, I have been pondering this day and night. This is not the human world, and indeed it is unfit for a long stay." Thus, they wept face to face, tears streaming like rain. Scholar Laiyang, with tears in his eyes, bid farewell and departed. He knocked on the temple gate, returned to his room, and lay down, tossing and turning until dawn. He wished to find Gongsun Jiuniang's grave but had forgotten to ask about the tombstone inscription. When night fell, he went searching again, only to see thousands of graves piled upon each other, and he could no longer find the path to the village. He could only sigh repeatedly and return in regret. Opening the silk stockings to look at them, they crumbled into pieces at the touch of the wind, instantly decaying like ashes. So he packed his belongings and journeyed back to Eastern Lu.
Half a year passed, yet Laiyang Scholar could still not forget Gongsun Jiu Niang, so he returned to Jinan, hoping to encounter her there. When he reached the southern outskirts, the sun had already set; he tethered his horse to a tree in the courtyard and hurried toward the chaotic burial grounds. There, countless graves lay one after another, tangled wild grasses stretched in a blur, ghostly fires flickered, and foxes howled—a sight that struck the heart with dread. Overcome with terror and sorrow, Laiyang Scholar returned to his lodging. Disheartened, he wandered aimlessly, then turned his horse back toward Donglu. After traveling about a mile, he saw a young woman in the distance, walking alone among the mounds; her bearing and features closely resembled Gongsun Jiu Niang. He whipped his horse and gave chase, and upon drawing near, saw that it was indeed Gongsun Jiu Niang. Leaping from his horse, he was about to speak, but she fled as if she had never known him. He pressed closer again, and she showed an angry expression, covering her face with her sleeve. He stamped his foot and cried out, "Jiu Niang!" but she vanished without a trace.
The Chronicler of Strange Tales remarks: Qu Yuan, who likened himself to fragrant herbs, drowned himself in the Miluo River, yet his fervent blood still surged within his breast; the Crown Prince Shen Sheng, who donned the golden jade ring before marching against the Dongshan Gaoluo tribe, soaked the sands with his tears. Since ancient times, there have been instances where loyal ministers and filial sons died without gaining understanding from their sovereigns or fathers. Could it be that Gongsun Ninth Lady believed Scholar Laiyang had betrayed his solemn charge to relocate her remains, and that her resentment could never be dispelled from her heart? The heart within the diaphragm cannot be drawn forth to show another—how unjustly was Scholar Laiyang wronged!
Commentary
The "Revolt of Yu Qi" occurred in the seventh year of the Shunzhi reign (1650), when Pu Songling was eleven years old. The revolt was ultimately and thoroughly suppressed around the first year of the Kangxi reign (1662), by which time Pu Songling had reached the age of twenty-three or twenty-four. He wrote "Gongsun Jiu Niang" around the twelfth year of the Kangxi reign (1674), when he was thirty-five. In this fictional tale of ghosts and fox spirits, he specifically marked the year as "during the Jiayin period," a rare occurrence in the Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, revealing the profound spiritual trauma inflicted upon Pu Songling by the "slaughter like hemp" of that event. "Gongsun Jiu Niang" was likely a work specially composed for the tenth anniversary of this tragedy.
Although the tale recounts the heart-wrenching romance between Scholar Laiyang and Gongsun Jiuniang, its true purpose is to compose a dirge for the countless innocent souls who perished in the 'Revolt of Yu Qi,' expressing the author's profound humanitarian spirit. The story opens with the line, 'One day, several hundred captives were all executed on the drill ground, staining the earth with green blood and piling bones to the sky.' With so many slain, the graves multiplied: 'Thousands of mounds stretched endlessly, confusing even the village paths,' and 'Graves and tombs stretched for miles, a desolate wilderness of brambles, where ghostly fires flickered and foxes howled, striking terror into the heart.' This is likely not only the most horrifying mass burial ground in 'Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio' but also one of the most shocking grave clusters in all of classical Chinese literature. Who were these slain? The tale emphasizes their innocence: Scholar Laiyang's nephew was 'taken captive to Jinan, and upon hearing of his father's execution, died of shock and grief.' Gongsun Jiuniang and her mother were 'escorted to the capital. Upon reaching the prefecture, the mother succumbed to hardship, and Jiuniang slit her own throat.' Even after becoming ghosts, they remain courteous, gentle, and full of human warmth, yearning for a normal life. The marriages of Zhu Sheng with Scholar Laiyang's niece, and of Scholar Laiyang with Gongsun Jiuniang, are the very essence of this longing for life! One can imagine how peaceful and kind these people would have been had war and slaughter not befallen them.
The final part of the tale describes how, due to the negligence of Scholar Laiyang and Gongsun Jiumiang in failing to confirm the markers of the grave, a misunderstanding in their affections arose. This is likely a plot devised by the author out of the need for tragic completeness.