Original Text
In the prefecture of Jinan there lived a Taoist priest, whose origins and name were unknown to all. Regardless of winter or summer, he wore only a single-lined robe, tied with a yellow silk sash, and never donned leggings or a short jacket. He often combed his hair with half a comb, then stuck the comb's teeth into his topknot, wearing it like a cap. Each day he walked barefoot through the market streets, and at night he slept on the roadside, where the snow and ice within several feet around him would always melt. When the Taoist first arrived in Jinan, he frequently performed illusions for the people, and the townsfolk vied to give him alms. A dissolute young ruffian from the alleys once brought him wine and begged to be taught the arts of illusion, but the Taoist refused. One day, encountering the Taoist bathing by the river, the ruffian suddenly snatched his clothes and held them hostage. The Taoist clasped his hands and bowed, saying, "Pray return my garments, and I shall teach you." The ruffian, fearing deceit, stubbornly refused. The Taoist said, "Will you truly not return them?" The ruffian replied, "Indeed." The Taoist fell silent, and soon the yellow silk sash transformed into a serpent, thick as several handspans, which coiled around the ruffian six or seven times, raised its head, glared with angry eyes, and flicked its forked tongue at his face. The ruffian, struck with terror, knelt upright, his face turning green, his breath coming in gasps, and could only cry out for mercy. The Taoist then retrieved his yellow sash, which was no serpent at all, while another snake slithered crookedly into the city. By this affair, the Taoist became even more renowned.
When the officials and gentry heard of the Taoist's extraordinary abilities, they invited him into their company, and from then on he frequented the homes of the wealthy. Even the provincial and circuit intendants came to know his name, and at every banquet or gathering, they would include the Taoist. One day, the Taoist decided to host a return feast for these officials at the Water Pavilion. On the appointed day, each official found an invitation on his desk, though none knew how it had arrived. When the officials arrived at the venue, the Taoist bowed and welcomed them. Entering, they saw only an empty pavilion, with not even a couch or table set out, leading them to suspect the Taoist was playing a trick. Glancing at the officials, the Taoist said, "This poor priest has no servants; may I borrow your attendants to help arrange things a little?" The officials all agreed. The Taoist then drew two doors on the wall and knocked on them with his hand. From within, a voice answered, and the lock was undone. The crowd pressed forward to look and saw shadowy figures moving about inside, with screens, curtains, couches, and tables all in place. Soon, these items were passed out through the door, and the Taoist had the attendants receive them and arrange them in the pavilion, cautioning everyone not to speak with those inside. Thus, as things were handed in and out, the two sides merely exchanged smiles. Before long, the pavilion was filled with furnishings of the utmost luxury and splendor. Then, the fragrance of fine wine and the steam of hot dishes emerged one after another from the wall. Every guest was astonished.
The Water Pavilion originally faced the lake, and every year in the sixth month, tens of acres of lotus flowers stretched endlessly as far as the eye could see. But now it was the depth of winter, and beyond the window lay a vast expanse of misty green waves. An official happened to sigh, saying, "What a pity that today's grand gathering lacks the adornment of lotus blossoms!" All the guests echoed his sentiment. Shortly after, a servant in blue robes rushed in to report, "The lotus leaves have filled the pond!" The entire company was astonished; they pushed open the window and looked out, and indeed, the view was filled with lush green lotus leaves, interspersed with some budding lotus flowers. In the blink of an eye, thousands of stems and countless blossoms burst forth together, and as the north wind blew, the fragrance of the lotuses permeated the air, refreshing the heart and mind. Everyone marveled at this wonder. They sent a servant to row a boat and gather some lotuses. From afar, they watched the servant sail deep into the lotus grove, but soon he returned with empty hands to report to the official. When asked why this was so, the servant said, "I took the boat and went out, but I saw the lotuses blooming in the distance. As I gradually rowed toward the north shore, I saw them again far off on the southern waters." The Taoist smiled and said, "These are but empty flowers in a dream." Not long after, as the feast drew to a close, the lotuses began to wither, and a sudden north wind arose, snapping and scattering every last leaf until none remained.
The Intendant of the Jidong Circuit was exceedingly pleased and brought the Daoist back to his official residence, spending each day in his company. One day, the Intendant was drinking with a guest. The Intendant had a family recipe for fine wine, and he would only allow each guest a single measure, refusing to let anyone drink freely. That day, after the guest had drunk, he found the flavor exquisite and repeatedly asked for more of the excellent wine, but the Intendant claimed it was all gone. The Daoist smiled and said to the guest, "If you wish to drink your fill, you may ask me for it." The guest requested that the Daoist fulfill his promise. The Daoist placed his wine flask into his sleeve, and after a short while, took it out again, pouring wine for everyone present, which was in no way different from the Intendant's treasured vintage. Thus, they all drank heartily until they dispersed. The Intendant grew suspicious and went into the inner chamber to inspect the wine jar; though the outer seal remained intact, the wine within was gone. The Intendant felt secretly ashamed and enraged, seizing the Daoist as a sorcerer and subjecting him to flogging. But no sooner had the rod struck than the Intendant felt a sharp pain in his own buttocks; with each subsequent blow, the flesh of his backside tore as if ripped apart. Though the Daoist cried out in pain below the hall, the Intendant's seat was already stained with blood. He was forced to stop the beating and drove the Daoist away. Thus, the Daoist left Jinan, and his whereabouts became unknown. Later, someone encountered him in Jinling, dressed exactly as before. When asked about it, he merely smiled and did not reply.
Commentary
There are many works in Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio that write about magical arts, such as Stealing Peaches, Planting Pears, Xiao Er, The Daoist Shan, The White Lotus Sect, The Gambler's Charm, The Daoist of Mount Lao, The Daoist, The Art of Trickery, and so on, too numerous to list individually; The Lotus in the Cold Moon is among them the longest in length and the most aesthetically meaningful tale.
The creative inspiration for "Lotus in the Snow" originates from Wang Wei's "Plantain in the Snow." In its depiction, the tale possesses the beauty of painting, yet also excels in narrative literature. It not only sketches the splendid scene of "boundless lotus leaves stretching to the sky, and lotus blossoms glowing red under the sun," but also recounts the disillusionment of the officials gathering lotus, depicting "a sudden north wind rising, shattering the lotus canopy," thereby rendering the illusion rich and profound, evoking both lingering attachment and boundless lament. The extensive records of magical arts reflect Pu Songling's curious and romantic temperament, as well as the lingering influence of immortals and esoteric practices from the ancient land of Qi culture, which is precisely one of the cultural foundations from which "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio" emerged.
In the manuscript, "Cold Moon Lotus" was altered to the title "The Daoist of Jinan." This revision may have been made by Pu Songling himself or by later hands. In terms of character portrayal, "Cold Moon Lotus" possesses a more complete structure than other tales of illusion, with richer magical arts, while also attending to the depiction of character and psychology. The opening description of the Jinan Daoist's unconventional attire and the closing mockery of the stingy official leave a deep impression.