Original Text
Hu Dacheng was a man from Chu. His mother had always been a devout Buddhist. When Hu Dacheng followed his tutor in his studies, he had to pass by the Guanyin Temple on his way to school, and his mother instructed him that whenever he passed by, he must go in and pay homage to Guanyin. One day, Hu Dacheng came to the Guanyin Temple and saw a young girl leading a child, wandering and playing inside. The girl's hair had just grown to her neck, and her appearance and demeanor were exceedingly lovely. At that time, Hu Dacheng was fourteen years old and took a great liking to her. So he asked her name, and the girl smiled, saying, "I am Lingjiao, the daughter of Jiao, the painter who lives west of the temple. Why do you ask?" Hu Dacheng then inquired, "Are you betrothed?" The girl blushed and said, "No." Hu Dacheng said, "Would it be good if I became your husband?" The girl shyly replied, "I cannot decide for myself." Yet her eyes were clear and bright, and she cast a glance up and down at Hu Dacheng, as if she were quite willing. Hu Dacheng then left the temple. The girl chased after him and called out from a distance, "Cui Ercheng is my father's friend; if you ask him to be the matchmaker, it will surely succeed." Hu Dacheng said, "Very well." Thinking of the girl's intelligence and affection, he grew even more enamored. When he returned home, he told his mother his wish truthfully. Hu's mother had only this one son and was always afraid to go against his desires, so she immediately invited Cui Ercheng to propose the match. The Jiao family demanded a large betrothal gift, and the marriage seemed hopeless. But Cui Ercheng strongly praised Hu Dacheng's pure lineage and talent, and only then did Jiao, the painter, agree to the betrothal.
Hu Dacheng had an uncle, advanced in years and without a son, who served as a school official in Hubei. His wife died at his post, and Hu's mother sent Dacheng to Hubei to attend the funeral. After several months, just as he was preparing to return, his uncle also fell ill and died. Dacheng was stranded in Hubei for a long time, and as it happened, rebel soldiers occupied Hunan, cutting off all news from home. He wandered among the common folk, a solitary figure, desolate and forlorn. One day, an old woman, about forty-eight or forty-nine years old, wandered through the village, lingering until the sun was low in the west without leaving. She said of herself, "I have been left homeless by the chaos of war, and I wish to sell myself." When asked her price, she replied, "I disdain to be a servant, nor do I wish to be a wife; I will go with anyone who will treat me as a mother, and I ask no price." Those who heard this laughed. Hu Dacheng came to look at the old woman, and her face bore a slight resemblance to his own mother, stirring his heart with deep sorrow. Thinking of his lonely state, with no one even to mend his clothes, he invited the old woman to come home with him and served her as a son would his mother. The old woman was delighted, and she cooked his meals and sewed his shoes, laboring like a mother. If something displeased her, she would scold him, yet when he was slightly ill, her care and concern surpassed that of a birth mother. Suddenly, the old woman said, "This place is quite peaceful; fortunately, there is nothing to worry about. But you have grown to manhood, and though you are wandering far from home, the matter of marriage cannot be delayed. In two or three days, I shall find a wife for my son." Hu Dacheng wept and said, "Your son already has a wife, but we are separated by the north and south." The old woman said, "In times of great chaos, human affairs are ever-changing; how can you stubbornly wait for her?" Hu Dacheng wept again and said, "Not only must the vow of marriage not be broken, but who would be willing to entrust a tender daughter to a wandering stranger?" The old woman did not reply, but simply prepared curtains, bedclothes, pillows, and quilts for him, all complete, though it was unclear where she had obtained them.
One day, after night had fallen, the old woman cautioned Hu Dacheng, saying, "Light a candle and sit up; do not go to sleep. I shall go see if the new bride has arrived." With that, she went out the door. By the time the third watch had passed, the old woman had still not returned, and Hu Dacheng grew deeply perplexed. Presently, he heard a commotion outside the gate; going out to look, he saw a woman seated in the courtyard, her hair disheveled like tangled tumbleweed, weeping without cease. Startled, Hu Dacheng asked, "Who are you?" She did not answer. After a long while, she finally said, "To be taken as a bride is no blessing; I would rather die." Hu Dacheng was greatly alarmed, not knowing the reason. The woman said, "Since childhood, I was betrothed to Hu Dacheng, but little did I expect that he would go to Hubei and all news of him would cease. My parents forced me to marry into your household. Though my person may be brought here, my heart and will remain unchanged!" Hearing this, Hu Dacheng wept and said, "I am that very Hu. Are you Lingjiao?" The woman ceased her weeping at these words, astonished and hardly daring to believe. Hu Dacheng led her into the room, and by the candlelight he gazed at her intently, saying, "Is this not a dream?" Then their sorrow turned to joy, and they poured out to each other the pangs of separation and longing.
It turned out that after the chaos of war, the region of Hunan for a hundred li around had been completely plundered and laid waste. The painter Jiao, taking his entire family, fled to the east of Changsha, where he accepted the betrothal gifts from a young man named Zhou. Amid the turmoil of soldiers and bandits, the wedding could not be held, so it was agreed that on that very evening, Lingjiao would be delivered to Zhou's home. Lingjiao wept and refused to bathe or dress, but her family forced her into a carriage. Halfway along the road, Lingjiao tumbled out of the carriage. Then four bearers appeared with a sedan chair, claiming they were sent by the Zhou family to welcome the bride, and they helped Lingjiao into the sedan chair, which sped like the wind until it stopped here. An elderly woman pulled Lingjiao into the courtyard, saying, "This is your husband's home. Go in without fear, and do not weep. Your mother-in-law will arrive sooner or later." Then she departed. Hu Dacheng, having inquired about the whole matter, realized that the old woman was a divine being. The husband and wife burned incense and prayed together, hoping that mother and son might be reunited once more.
Since the wartime curfew began, Mother Hu had fled with other displaced women into deep mountain valleys to hide. One night, someone clamored that rebel soldiers were coming, and everyone panicked, scattering to conceal themselves. A young boy led a horse to Mother Hu. In her urgency, she had no time to ask questions and, leaning on the boy's shoulder, mounted the horse. The horse was swift and magical, and in an instant they reached Lake Dongting, its hooves skimming across the water's surface without stirring a single ripple. Soon, the boy helped Mother Hu dismount and pointed to a house, saying, "You may dwell here." Mother Hu wished to thank him, but when she turned back, the horse had transformed into the golden-haired lion mount of the Bodhisattva, over ten feet tall. The boy leaped onto the beast and soared into the sky. Mother Hu knocked on the door, which opened at once. Someone came out to ask who was there, and Mother Hu was startled to find the voice familiar—it was her son, Hu Dacheng. Mother and son embraced, weeping with joy. Lingjiao was also awakened, and the family was filled with happiness and relief. They surmised that the old woman was an incarnation of the Bodhisattva Guanyin, and from then on, they recited the Guanyin sutra with even greater devotion. The family settled in Hubei, purchasing fields and building a house.
Commentary
This is a religious work that propagates the inconceivable miraculous power of devotion to the Buddha. Hu Dacheng and his mother, due to their sincere worship of the Buddha, received the protection of the Buddha in times of chaos; not only did Hu Dacheng attain a perfect marriage, but mother and son were also reunited.
In terms of its motif and structure, this tale inherits the Buddhist literary tradition since the Six Dynasties, offering nothing novel. Yet the novel's depiction of Hu Dacheng and Lingjiao's first love in the Guanyin Temple is natural, primal, innocent, and pure, capturing the song-like affection between a young man and a young woman. The dialogues between Hu Dacheng and his adoptive mother in Hubei, where they support each other in hardship and discuss marriage arrangements, are also written with warmth and sincerity, deeply moving.
What is particularly noteworthy is that the background of this tale is set in the Chu region, describing how "a great bandit had seized Hunan," and "previously after the chaos, for a hundred li in Hunan, the land was swept clean of all life. Jiao fled with his family to the east of Changsha," and so forth. Although it does not explicitly indicate whether this refers to events of the late Ming dynasty or the rebellion of Wu Sangui in the early Qing, it reveals Pu Songling's thorough familiarity with contemporary history and geography, as well as his deep understanding of the customs and sentiments of the common people across the land.