Original Text
The Chronicler of the Strange remarks: The treachery of human hearts is as sinister as that of ghosts and demons, and this is true everywhere, but especially on the major thoroughfares of the north and south, where the harm is most severe. Those who draw strong bows and ride fierce steeds, blocking people at the gates of the realm, are known to all as bandits. Yet there are those who cut purses and slit bags, snatching goods in the marketplace, often leaving a passerby bereft of property and valuables in the blink of an eye—are these not more fearsome than ghosts? Others, meeting by chance like drifting duckweed, speak sweetly and draw near, gradually deepening their acquaintance, often mistaken for bosom friends, only to bring about the calamity of lost wealth. These people set traps at random, employing countless schemes, and the common folk, deeming their words insinuating and gentle, call them "nian yang" or "smooth-talking swindlers." Nowadays, such individuals abound on the northern highways, and the number of their victims is especially great.
My fellow townsman Wang Zixun was a scholar in the county. He had a senior clansman who served as a Hanlin academician of the Bordered Yellow Banner in the capital, so he prepared to visit him. Having packed his luggage, he journeyed northward. After leaving Jinan, he had traveled several li when he encountered a man riding a black donkey who caught up and traveled alongside him. This man often spoke idly to draw Wang into conversation, and Wang occasionally responded. The man introduced himself, saying, "My surname is Zhang, and I am a runner from Qixia County, dispatched by the magistrate on business to the capital." His address was humble, and his attentions were assiduous. They traveled together for several dozen li, and he proposed that they share the same inn. When Wang went ahead, he would whip his donkey to catch up; when Wang fell behind, he would wait by the roadside. Wang's servant grew suspicious of him and drove him away with harsh words and stern looks, refusing to let him follow. Zhang, feeling embarrassed, flicked his whip and departed. At nightfall, Wang rested at an inn and happened to stroll before the door, where he saw Zhang eating and drinking in the outer courtyard. Wang was startled and suspicious, but Zhang, catching sight of Wang, immediately stood with hands at his sides, as humble as a servant, and they exchanged a few polite pleasantries. Wang thought this was merely a chance encounter and harbored no suspicion, yet his servant remained on guard all night. At dawn, when the roosters crowed, Zhang came to summon Wang to travel together, but the servant rebuffed him with curses, and so he left.
The sun had risen high when Scholar Wang finally set out on his journey. After traveling for about half a day, he noticed a man ahead riding a white donkey, around forty years of age, dressed in neat and clean attire. The man was slumped over on the donkey, nodding off and nearly falling off. Sometimes he would ride ahead of Wang, sometimes fall behind, continuing in this manner for over ten li. Wang found this strange and asked, "What did you do last night that left you so weary and drowsy?" Startled by the question, the man stretched and replied, "I am from Qingyuan, surnamed Xu. Gao Qing of Linzi County is my cousin. My elder brother teaches at his office, and I went to visit him, receiving some gifts. Last night, I lodged by mistake with some 'nian yang' tricksters, and I stayed alert all night without closing my eyes, leaving me so dazed during the day." Wang deliberately asked, "What are 'nian yang'?" Xu said, "You have not traveled far as a guest and do not yet know the dangers of deceit. Nowadays, there is a band of rogues who specialize in sweet-talking travelers, entangling themselves with you, traveling and lodging together, seeking opportunities to swindle money. Yesterday, a distant relative of mine lost all his travel funds because of such an encounter. We must both be cautious and on guard." Wang nodded in agreement. Earlier, the magistrate of Linzi had some acquaintance with Wang, and Wang had once served as a secretary there, knowing the magistrate's retainers, among whom there was indeed a man named Xu, so he no longer doubted him. Thus, he began to chat about family matters and inquired about Xu's elder brother. Xu then invited Wang to stay at the same inn after dark, and Wang agreed. Wang's servant, however, remained suspicious of this man and secretly advised his master to delay and not proceed, so that they might lose each other and vanish from sight.
The next day, at high noon, he encountered another youth, about sixteen or seventeen years of age, riding a sturdy mule, with elegant attire and a handsome countenance. They traveled together for a long while without exchanging a single word. As the sun began to wester, the youth suddenly remarked, "Ahead, the town of Qulü is not far off." Wang gave a faint nod in reply. The youth then heaved a sigh, as if unable to contain his sorrow. Wang inquired slightly, and the youth sighed, "I am a man from Jiangnan, surnamed Jin. After three years of arduous study, I hoped to succeed in the examinations, but alas, my name fell from the list! My elder brother holds an official post in a certain ministry, so I brought my family along to seek some distraction. Unaccustomed to long journeys, the dust and sand that assail one's face are most vexing." As he spoke, he drew out a red silk handkerchief to wipe his face, sighing incessantly. His speech bore a southern accent, soft and melodious like a maiden's. Wang took a liking to him and offered a few words of comfort. The youth said, "Just now I rode ahead on my own, but my family has yet to arrive despite my long wait. I wonder why even the servants have not come? Dusk is approaching—what is to be done?" He stood still, gazing into the distance, moving forward only slowly. Wang then urged his mount onward, leaving the youth farther and farther behind.
When darkness fell, Scholar Wang sought lodging at an inn and entered a guest room, where a bed stood against the wall with luggage already placed upon it. As Wang was questioning the innkeeper, a man entered, picked up the luggage, and prepared to leave, saying, "Please rest here; I shall move elsewhere." Wang looked at him and recognized him as one Xu. Wang stopped him, insisting that they share the room, so Xu remained, and they sat down to converse. Shortly thereafter, another man carrying luggage entered; upon seeing Wang and Xu in the room, he turned to leave, saying, "There are already guests here." Wang examined him and saw it was the young man he had encountered on the road. Before Wang could speak, Xu hastily rose, pulled him back, and the young man sat down. Xu then inquired about the young man's family and native place, and the young man repeated what he had said on the road. Soon, the young man opened his purse, took out silver coins, and piled them together, their weight evident. He weighed out over an ounce of silver and handed it to the innkeeper, instructing him to prepare wine and dishes for nighttime conversation and feasting. Wang and Xu both tried to dissuade the young man, but he would not listen. Before long, the wine and dishes were all set out. As they drank, the young man discoursed on the art of essay writing, displaying great elegance and refinement. Wang asked about the examination topics in the Jiangnan examination hall, and the young man told him everything, even reciting the opening lines and proud passages of his own essays. After speaking, he revealed a look of indignation and grievance, and the others also sighed with regret on his behalf. The young man then mentioned that his family had been lost, he had no servant by his side, and he did not know how to tend to his horse. Wang then ordered his own servant to assist him, and the young man expressed deep gratitude.
Not long after, the young man stamped his foot and said, "All my life I have been beset by ill fortune, and even when I go out, nothing good befalls me. Last night, while staying at an inn, I encountered a band of ruffians who were casting dice with loud shouts and cries, disturbing my rest and vexing my spirit." In the southern dialect, the word for 'dice' was pronounced as 'dou,' and Xu did not understand, pressing him repeatedly for an explanation, until the young man gestured with his hands to describe the shape. Xu then smiled, drew a pair of dice from his pocket, and said, "Is this what you mean?" The young man assented. Xu then proposed using the dice as a drinking game, and they all drank merrily together. When the wine had warmed their spirits, Xu invited everyone to join in casting dice, claiming he would win the honor of being the host. Wang declined, saying he did not know how to play, so Xu and the young man played against each other. Xu secretly instructed Wang, saying, "Do not speak of this. That southern gentleman is quite wealthy and young, and likely not well-versed in the ways of gambling. If I win some money, I will treat you to a meal tomorrow." With that, the two went into another room. Soon, the clamor of gambling was heard, and Wang, peeping through a crack, saw that the runner from Qixia County was also among the players. Greatly puzzled, he opened his bedding and lay down to sleep alone. After a while, the others came to drag Wang into the game, but he firmly refused on the grounds of ignorance. Xu offered to gamble on Wang's behalf, but Wang still would not agree, yet in the end they forced him to participate. Shortly thereafter, they ran to Wang's bedside and reported, "You have won several stakes." Wang responded from his slumber.
Suddenly, several men burst through the door, speaking in an unintelligible foreign tongue. Their leader claimed his surname was Tong and that he was a patrolman under the banner, tasked with apprehending gamblers. At that time, the prohibition on gambling was very strict, and everyone present was filled with great trepidation. Tong loudly intimidated Wang, but Wang countered him by invoking the authority of the Grand Historian. Tong's anger subsided, and he began to converse with Wang about their shared affiliation with the same banner, laughing as he urged the company to continue their game. The others indeed resumed gambling, and Tong joined in as well. Wang said to Xu, "I care not for winning or losing; I only wish to sleep, so do not disturb me." Yet Xu paid no heed, continuing to shuttle back and forth with reports. When the gambling session ended, the debts were tallied, and Wang found himself heavily in arrears. Tong then searched Wang's luggage, intending to seize its contents to settle the debt. Wang grew angry and argued with them. The young man surnamed Jin took Wang by the arm and whispered, "These are all bandits; it is hard to predict what they might do. We are scholars who associate through letters, and we cannot fail to look out for one another. Just now, I won a certain sum in the game, which can cover your debt. I was originally to collect my winnings from Xu, but let us now swap: let Xu repay Tong on your behalf, and you repay me. This is but a temporary ruse to deceive others; afterward, I will return it to you. Otherwise, from the standpoint of friendship, could I truly demand repayment from you?" Wang, being honest by nature, believed him upon hearing this. The young man left the room and informed Tong of the swapped arrangement, then, in front of everyone, opened Wang's luggage and, according to the estimated value of the gambling debt, packed the items into his own pocket. Tong then turned to Xu and Zhang to demand payment of their debts.
The young man brought his own bedding over and placed it next to Scholar Wang's, arranging their pillows side by side; his bedding was all exquisitely fine and ornate. Scholar Wang also called his servant to come and sleep on the bed, and each lay down quietly upon their pillows. After a long while, the young man deliberately tossed and turned, pressing his lower body against the servant. The servant shifted away to avoid him, but the young man drew close again. When the servant's skin touched the young man's thigh, he felt it as smooth and sleek as oil. The servant's heart stirred, and he tentatively engaged in intimacy with the young man, who responded with utmost eagerness. The rustling of the quilt and the sounds of breathing were all heard by Scholar Wang, who, though greatly startled and puzzled, never suspected any ill intent. At the break of dawn, the young man rose and urged them to set out early, saying, "Your donkey is very weary; as for the goods entrusted last night, I will return them to you further ahead." Before Scholar Wang could reply, the young man had already packed his luggage and mounted his mule. Scholar Wang had no choice but to follow. The young man's mule galloped off, growing ever more distant. Scholar Wang assumed the young man would wait ahead and thought little of it at first; when he asked the servant about the night's events, the servant told him the truth. Only then did Scholar Wang exclaim in great alarm, "Now we have been deceived by the 'nian yang' tricksters! How could any son of an official volunteer himself to do such a thing with a servant?" Yet on second thought, the young man's refined speech and manner did not seem like something a common trickster could achieve. Scholar Wang hurriedly pursued for several dozen li, but still found no trace, and only then realized that the Zhang, Xu, and Tong were all of the same gang; when one scheme failed, they switched to another, determined to ensnare their victim. Their ploy of repaying debts and exchanging goods had already laid the groundwork for a fraudulent evasion; had the exchange scheme not succeeded, they would surely have resorted to outright seizure as previously described. For the sake of a few dozen taels of silver, they had trailed him for several hundred li; and fearing the servant might expose their plot, they even used their own bodies to win the servant's favor—such a scheme was truly devised with painstaking effort.
After several years had passed, the incident involving Scholar Wu occurred once more.
In the city there lived a scholar named Wu, styled Anren, who lost his wife at the age of thirty and dwelt alone in his empty study. A young scholar came to chat with him, and they soon found great pleasure in each other's company. The visitor brought with him a small servant named Guitou, who became fast friends with Wu's page boy Bao'er. As time passed, Wu came to know that they were foxes. Whenever Wu traveled afar, they would surely follow, and though they shared the same room, no one else could see them. While lodging in the capital and preparing to return home, Wu heard of a scholar Wang who had fallen prey to the swindling schemes known as Nianyang, and he warned his page to be on guard. The fox laughed and said, "No need for that; on this journey, nothing untoward will befall us."
When they reached Zhuozhou, they saw a man sitting in a tobacco shop with his horse tethered nearby, dressed in fine and orderly attire. This man, upon seeing Wu Sheng pass by, also rose, mounted his horse, and followed behind. Gradually, he began to converse with Wu Sheng. The man claimed to be from Shandong, surnamed Huang, and said he was a courier delivering official documents to the Ministry of Revenue. He was preparing to travel eastward to return home and was glad to have company on the road to avoid loneliness and solitude. Thus, when Wu Sheng halted, Huang would also halt, and whenever they dined together, Huang would always take the initiative to pay the bill. Wu Sheng outwardly expressed gratitude but inwardly harbored suspicion, privately questioning the fox, who only replied, "It is of no consequence." So Wu Sheng's mind was set at ease. When evening came, they sought lodging together, and there was already a handsome young man seated in the inn. As Huang entered, he clasped his hands in greeting to the young man and asked cheerfully, "When did you leave the capital?" The young man replied, "Only yesterday." Huang then invited him to share their lodging and introduced him to Wu Sheng, saying, "This is Shi Lang, my cousin, also a man of letters. He can accompany you in discussing poetry and prose, so the night's conversation will not be dull." With that, he produced money to procure wine and dishes for a joint feast. The young man was elegant and refined, and he and Wu Sheng soon took a great liking to each other. During the drinking, Shi Lang frequently signaled to Wu Sheng to collude with him in cheating at the drinking game, jointly penalizing Huang and forcing him to drink, which led to joyful clapping and laughter. Wu Sheng grew even more fond of this young man.
Shortly thereafter, Shi Lang and a man surnamed Huang conspired to gamble, dragging Wu Sheng along to join them, so they all took money from their pouches to serve as stakes. The fox instructed Bao'er to secretly lock the door and also told Wu Sheng, "If you hear a commotion, just lie still and pretend to sleep." Wu Sheng agreed. Whenever Wu Sheng cast the dice, he lost on small bets but won on large ones, and by the first watch, he had amassed over two hundred taels of silver. Shi Lang and Huang, having emptied their purses, then proposed using a horse as collateral. Just then, a violent knocking was heard at the door. Wu Sheng quickly rose, threw the dice into the fire, pulled the covers over himself, and feigned sleep. After a long while, the innkeeper was heard saying he could not find the key and had to break the lock to open the door. Several men burst in with a menacing air, searching for and seizing the gamblers. Both Shi and Huang denied gambling. One man even lifted Wu Sheng's blanket, accusing him of gambling. Wu Sheng refuted them. Several men forcibly tried to search Wu Sheng's luggage. As Wu Sheng resisted, nearly overwhelmed, he suddenly heard the sound of a grand procession of carriages and horses passing by outside the door, with officials clearing the way. Wu Sheng rushed out and shouted, and the men, now frightened, hastily pulled him back inside, begging him not to make a fuss. Wu Sheng then calmly handed his bundle to the innkeeper. After the carriage and horse procession had faded into the distance, the group left the room. Huang and Shi Lang feigned surprise and delight, then began to seek their beds for sleep. Huang told Shi Lang to share a bed with Wu Sheng. Wu Sheng placed his waist-bound bundle under his head as a pillow before pulling the covers over himself to sleep. Shortly, Shi Lang lifted Wu Sheng's blanket, slipped naked into his embrace, and whispered, "I admire your magnanimity, brother, and wish to be intimate with you." Wu Sheng knew in his heart this was deceit, but thought it not without merit, so he embraced him. Shi Lang flattered him profusely, but Wu Sheng, being a robust man, handled him roughly, and Shi Lang groaned incessantly, unable to bear it, secretly begging Wu Sheng to stop. Wu Sheng, intending to finish first, touched him and found much blood, so he released Shi Lang and let him return to his own bed. By dawn, Shi Lang was utterly exhausted, unable to rise, and feigned a sudden illness, asking Wu and Huang to proceed ahead. Before leaving, Wu Sheng gave Shi Lang some money for medical expenses. On the road, Wu Sheng spoke with the fox and learned that the night's carriage and horse procession had all been the fox's doing.
The man surnamed Huang grew even more obsequious toward Wu Sheng as they traveled. That evening, they lodged together in a cramped inn room, barely large enough for a single bed, yet it was warm and clean. Wu Sheng found it too narrow, but Huang said, "Two people in this room is indeed cramped, but if you slept here alone, it would be quite spacious—what harm is there?" After supper, Huang departed. Wu Sheng was pleased to have the room to himself, hoping to receive his fox friend. He sat for a long while, but the fox did not come. Suddenly, he heard a tapping sound at the small door in the wall. Wu Sheng unlatched it and peered out; a young woman, gaudily adorned, burst in, bolted the door behind her, and smiled at him, radiant as a celestial maiden. Delighted, Wu Sheng pressed her for her identity; she turned out to be the innkeeper's daughter-in-law. They then shared intimate caresses, filled with great affection. Abruptly, the woman wept sorrowfully. Startled, Wu Sheng asked why. She said, "I dare not hide it—I was sent by the innkeeper to seduce you. Usually, as soon as I enter, someone comes to catch us in the act, but I know not why tonight it has been so long delayed." Then, sobbing, she added, "I am a virtuous woman and loathe this vile task. Now that I have confessed all, I beg you to save me!" Wu Sheng, terrified and at a loss, could only urge her to flee quickly, but she refused to leave, merely weeping with bowed head. Suddenly, Huang and the innkeeper pounded on the door, their clamor boiling over like a pot. Huang shouted, "I have treated you with utmost respect on the road, valuing your character—why do you seduce my brother's wife?" Wu Sheng, in dread, pressed the woman to leave. Then, from beyond the small door in the wall, came sounds of scuffling. Wu Sheng, drenched in cold sweat, could only watch as the woman prostrated herself and wept.
He then heard someone advising the host, but the host would not listen and instead pushed and pounded at the door even more urgently. The advisor said, "May I ask, innkeeper, what do you intend to do? Do you mean to kill them? With us guests present, we will certainly not stand idly by while you commit murder. If one of the two should escape, how would you frame the charge against them? Do you intend to bring the matter to court? To explain that your household discipline was lax would be to bring shame upon yourself. Moreover, you are an innkeeper, clearly plotting fraud—how can you be sure the woman will not have other words to say?" The innkeeper stared wide-eyed, speechless. Wu Sheng, hearing this, secretly felt grateful and admired the advisor, though he did not know who it was. At first, just before the inn was about to close, a scholar with a servant had arrived and lodged in the outer courtyard. He brought fine wine and invited all the guests to drink, showing particular warmth toward the innkeeper and a man named Huang. When the innkeeper and Huang tried to take their leave, the scholar tugged at their sleeves and earnestly begged them to stay, refusing to let them go. Later, they seized an opportunity to slip away, grabbed clubs and sticks, and rushed to Wu Sheng's room. The scholar, hearing the commotion, then entered to mediate. Wu Sheng, peering through the window, saw that it was his fox friend and felt secretly delighted. He also noticed that the innkeeper's arrogance had been subdued, so he began to bluster and threaten. Then he said to the woman, "Why do you not speak?" The woman wept and replied, "I only regret that I am not like a human, being driven to do such base deeds!" Upon hearing this, the innkeeper turned pale as death. The scholar cursed, saying, "The beastly conduct of your lot is now fully exposed. This is a matter that all of us guests resent!" At this, both Huang and the innkeeper dropped their knives and clubs, knelt, and begged for forgiveness. Wu Sheng also opened the door and came out, angrily cursing them roundly. The scholar then calmed Wu Sheng, and both sides were reconciled. The woman wept again, preferring death to returning. At that moment, several maids and old women rushed out from the inner chambers, grabbed the woman, and tried to drag her inside. She fell to the ground, weeping even more piteously. The scholar advised the innkeeper to sell the woman to Wu Sheng at a high price. The innkeeper bowed his head and said, "'After thirty years as a midwife, today I have wrapped the infant upside down in swaddling clothes!' Since it has come to this, what more is there to say?" So he followed the scholar's plan. Wu Sheng was unwilling to spend much, but the scholar mediated between host and guest, and finally they settled on fifty taels of silver. After the money and the woman were exchanged, the morning bell had already tolled. They then hurriedly packed their belongings, loaded the woman, and departed.
The young woman had never ridden a horse before, and on horseback she was utterly exhausted. At midday they rested briefly. After resting, as they were about to set off again, they called for Bao'er, but Bao'er was nowhere to be found. The sun had already slanted westward, yet there was still no sign of Bao'er. Wu Sheng grew quite perplexed and questioned the fox. The fox said, "Do not worry, he will return soon." Only when the stars and moon had appeared did Bao'er finally come back. Wu Sheng pressed him for an explanation. Bao'er laughed and said, "The young master gave fifty taels of silver to fatten those scoundrels, and I felt it unjust. Just now I consulted with the ghostly head, and we turned back to reclaim the money." With that, he placed the silver on the table. Wu Sheng asked in astonishment about the details. It turned out that the ghostly head knew the woman had only one elder brother, who had been away on a long journey for over ten years without returning, so he transformed himself into the brother's likeness, and had Bao'er pretend to be her younger brother. They went to the innkeeper's house, demanding to see their sister. The innkeeper was terrified at the sight of them and, in great panic, falsely claimed she had died of illness. The two then threatened to report the matter to the authorities, which made the innkeeper even more fearful, so he offered them silver as a bribe. The bribe gradually increased to forty taels, and only then did the two agree to leave. Bao'er recounted the whole affair. Wu Sheng then gave this money to Bao'er. After returning home, Wu Sheng's affection for the woman deepened, and his household grew even wealthier. Later, upon carefully questioning the woman, he learned that the handsome young man they had encountered on the road was her husband, and the historian was the man named Jin. She wore a cloak made of oak silk, which she said had been obtained from a man named Wang from Shandong. It turned out that this gang of swindlers had many accomplices, including the innkeeper—they were all in league. Who would have thought that what Wu Sheng encountered was exactly the same group that Wang Zixun had lamented about? Was this not a satisfying coincidence? As the ancients said, "He who rides a horse well is often the one to fall."
Commentary
This narrative recounts two tales of swindlers cheating travelers of their money on the road from Zichuan to the capital. The story of the journey from Zichuan to the capital is a true account told by Wang Zixun, while the tale of the return trip from the capital to Zichuan is derived from the first, a sequel with the addition of a fox spirit. Although the two stories differ in details and outcomes, they share many commonalities. For instance, the swindlers operate in gangs, and when one scheme fails, they devise another; their targets are inexperienced scholars traveling, and accordingly, the gang includes a scholar among them; their methods involve seduction and gambling, with the innkeeper also complicit. In these respects, not only do the deceptive tricks in both tales resonate with each other, but they also align with nearly all frauds, ancient and modern, Chinese and foreign.
In these two tales, the victims were not without vigilance, nor were they devoid of caution and fear in their hearts, yet because the crimes were committed by organized gangs with intricate designs, "setting traps according to circumstances, with ever-changing schemes," the likelihood of falling into the snare was exceedingly high. In the latter story, it was only through the aid of a fox that Scholar Wu managed to escape the trap, lending the narrative a considerable touch of romantic comedy.
Pu Songling delighted in reading the Records of the Grand Historian, especially the Biographies of Assassins, saying, "By lamplight at midnight, I always accompany my reading with a pint of wine." Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio was deeply influenced by Sima Qian and the Records of the Grand Historian; in this particular tale, one can clearly discern the shadow of the Biographies of Assassins, as seen in the placement of the "Historian of the Strange says" at the beginning of the narrative, in the transitional phrase "several years later, there came the affair of Scholar Wu," which mirrors the very sentence structure of the original, and in the way the latter story echoes the former, stating, "The handsome young man of yore was none other than her husband, for the historian was Jin. He wore a cloak of oakum, said to have been obtained from a man named Wang in Shandong," thus linking the two tales seamlessly. All these elements demonstrate Pu Songling's deliberate emulation of Sima Qian's Biographies of Assassins from the Records of the Grand Historian.