Original Text
Feng Sheng of Lintao County, a descendant of nobility whose family fortunes had declined, was owed a debt by a turtle catcher who, unable to repay, offered turtles in compensation. One day, the man presented a giant turtle with a white spot on its forehead. Feng, deeming it unusual, set it free. Later, returning from his son-in-law's home, Feng reached the banks of the Heng River at dusk and saw a drunken man staggering along, followed by two or three servants. The man, spotting Feng from afar, demanded, "Who are you?" Feng replied carelessly, "A traveler." The drunkard angrily retorted, "Do you not have a name? How can you call yourself a traveler?" Impatient to continue his journey, Feng ignored him and walked past. The drunkard, enraged, seized Feng's sleeve, reeking of wine. Feng, increasingly annoyed but unable to break free, asked, "What is your name?" The drunkard, as if speaking in a dream, answered, "I am the former magistrate of Nandu County. What business have you?" Feng said, "The world has such a magistrate as you—it is a disgrace to the realm. Fortunately, you are a former magistrate; were you a new one, would you not slaughter all travelers on the road?" The drunkard, furious, assumed a fighting stance. Feng boasted, "I, Feng, am no man to be beaten!" Hearing this, the drunkard's anger turned to joy, and he knelt unsteadily, bowing, "You are my benefactor. I beg your pardon for my earlier rudeness!" Rising, he called his servants to return home and prepare food and drink.
Feng Sheng could not decline. The two walked hand in hand for several li until they came upon a small village. Entering it, they found the houses ornate and splendid, as if belonging to a wealthy family. The drunken man's intoxication gradually subsided, and Feng Sheng then asked his name. He replied, "Do not be startled when I tell you—I am the Eight Great King of the Tao River. Just now, the Green Boy of the Western Mountains invited me to a feast, and I drank unwittingly until I was drunk, thus offending your dignity. I am truly ashamed and uneasy." Feng Sheng realized he was a water spirit, but seeing the profound sincerity in his words, he felt no fear. Shortly, a lavish banquet was laid out, and the two sat knee to knee, drinking with great delight. The Eight Great King was most unrestrained, downing several cups in succession. Feng Sheng, fearing he might become drunk again and cause trouble, pretended to be tipsy and wished to sleep. The Eight Great King understood his intent and said with a smile, "Are you not afraid that I will act wildly in my cups? Pray do not worry. Those who claim that a drunkard's misdeeds are forgotten by morning are liars. Among drunkards, nine out of ten deliberately break the rules out of wickedness. Though I am looked down upon by my own kind, I dare not behave like a rogue before an elder. Why then do you keep your distance?" Feng Sheng then sat down again and admonished him earnestly, "Since you know that drunkenness is harmful, why not reform this evil habit?" The Eight Great King said, "When I served as a magistrate in days past, I indulged in wine even more heavily than now. Ever since I offended the Jade Emperor and was banished back to the isles, I have striven to mend this fault for over ten years. Now, at the brink of old age, I am impoverished and downcast, unable to rise again, so my old habits have returned, and I cannot free myself. Now I humbly heed your instruction."
As they conversed, the distant temple bell had already tolled. The Eighth Great King rose, seized Feng Sheng by the arm, and said, "Our meeting has been too brief. I have something here, which I shall bestow upon you as a token of gratitude for your great kindness. This object cannot be worn for long; once your wish is fulfilled, you must return it to me." From his mouth he spat out a tiny figure, no more than an inch tall. The Eighth Great King then pressed his fingernail into Feng Sheng's arm, causing such pain that the skin seemed to split, and quickly pressed the little figure onto the wound. When he released his hand, the figure had already entered the skin, leaving only the mark of the nail, which slowly swelled into a small lump like a phlegm kernel. Feng Sheng asked in astonishment what this meant, but the Eighth Great King only smiled without answering, saying merely, "You should take your leave now." He escorted Feng Sheng out and returned inside. When Feng Sheng looked back, the village and its houses had all vanished; only a giant turtle was slowly crawling into the water, then disappeared. Feng Sheng stood stunned for a long time, thinking that what he had received must be the Turtle Treasure. From that day forward, Feng Sheng's eyesight became extraordinary; wherever treasures were hidden, even deep underground, he could see them all, and even things he had never known before, he could name at once. In his bedchamber, he dug up several hundred taels of buried silver, and his household expenses became abundant. Later, someone sold an old house, and Feng Sheng, seeing that it contained countless silver coins, purchased it at a high price and moved in, becoming as wealthy as a prince. He collected rare treasures such as fire-agate and wood-difficult gems. He obtained a precious mirror with a phoenix knob on its back, surrounded by carvings of clouds, water, and the Xiang River goddess; its light could shine for over a mile, and the figures within it were so clear that every hair and eyebrow could be counted. When a beautiful woman looked into it, her image would remain in the mirror, never to fade. If she changed her attire and looked again, or if another beauty took her place, the previous image would vanish.
At that time, the third princess of the Su Zhuang Prince's manor was surpassingly beautiful, and Feng Sheng had long admired her renowned beauty. It happened that the princess went to visit Mount Kongtong, so Feng Sheng hid himself there in advance, and when the princess alighted from her palanquin, he captured her likeness with a mirror. Returning home, he placed the mirror upon his desk. Gazing intently at the beauty within the mirror, she seemed to be holding an embroidered kerchief and smiling, her lips as if about to speak, her eyes as if about to move. Feng Sheng was overjoyed and treasured it away. After more than a year, this matter was leaked by his wife and reached the Su Zhuang Prince's manor. The prince was greatly enraged, seized Feng Sheng and cast him into prison, confiscated the precious mirror, and intended to put Feng Sheng to death. Feng Sheng bribed the eunuchs heavily, bidding them say to the prince: "If the great prince pardons him and spares his life, the rarest treasures under heaven can be obtained without difficulty. Otherwise, he will merely die, which brings no benefit whatsoever to the prince." The prince wished to confiscate his property and exile him to a distant land. The third princess said: "He has already gazed upon me; to kill him ten times over would not suffice to cleanse the defilement. It would be better to marry him." The prince would not consent, whereupon the princess shut herself in her chamber and refused to eat. The princess consort was deeply distressed and earnestly pleaded with the prince, who then released Feng Sheng and sent a eunuch to inform him of the princess's wish to wed him. Feng Sheng refused, saying: "The wife of my humble beginnings shall not be cast aside from the hall; I would rather die than obey this command. If the great prince permits me to redeem my offense, I will sacrifice my entire fortune without regret." The prince was furious and seized him again. The princess consort summoned Feng Sheng's wife to the palace, intending to poison her with lethal wine. Upon meeting, Feng Sheng's wife presented the consort with a coral mirror stand, her words gentle and her sentiments sincere. The consort took great delight in her and bade her pay respects to the princess. The princess also grew fond of her, and the two became sworn sisters, then instructed her to convey this to Feng Sheng. Feng Sheng said to his wife: "A daughter of princes and marquises cannot have her status as wife or concubine determined by the order of her arrival in the household." His wife paid no heed, and returning home, she prepared betrothal gifts and sent them to the prince's manor, with a procession of nearly a thousand bearers, bearing rare gems and jades whose names even the manor's retainers could not identify. The Su Zhuang Prince was overjoyed, released Feng Sheng, and wedded the princess to him, and the princess still carried the precious mirror as she came to Feng Sheng's home.
One night, Feng Sheng lay sleeping alone when he dreamed that the Eight Great Prince strode in with an imposing air and said, "The gift I bestowed upon you should now be returned. Wearing it too long drains one's vital essence and shortens one's lifespan." Feng Sheng agreed and urged him to stay for wine. The Eight Great Prince declined, saying, "Since receiving your instruction, I have abstained from drink for three years." He then bit Feng Sheng's arm, causing him such pain that he awoke with a start. Looking at his arm, he saw that the small lump had vanished. From that day on, Feng Sheng became just like any ordinary man.
The Chronicler of the Strange remarks: When sober, a man is still a man; when drunk, he becomes a turtle—most wine-bibbers are like this. Yet, though the turtle is accustomed to daily fits of drunken madness, it dares not forget kindness nor show disrespect to elders—does not the turtle far surpass man in this? As for some men, they are inferior to others when sober, and even more inferior to a turtle when drunk. The ancients had what they called a "mirror of the tortoise"—why should there not be a "mirror of the turtle"? Thus I composed a "Rhapsody on the Wine-Sot." The rhapsody says:
There is a thing that both cultivates one's temperament and is most palatable; when one drinks it, he becomes tipsy and feels as if floating on air, and its name is "wine." It has the most numerous appellations, and its efficacy has been known since ancient times: it can be used to feast honored guests, to entertain elders, to bring joy through intimate conversation, to unite couples in the nuptial cup, to serve as the "fishing hook for poetry" that stirs literary inspiration, and to act as the "broom that sweeps away sorrow" that dispels melancholy. Thus, the brewer's art comes forth unceasingly, becoming the bosom companion of scholars and poets; the deep realm of drunkenness becomes a refuge for the broken-hearted to escape their cares. The platform of dregs has been erected, and the merit of the wine-sack is immortal. Chunyu Kun could drink a full measure, and learned men boast of consuming five pecks. Wine is indeed passed down through men, yet men sometimes disgrace themselves through drink. For instance, Meng Jia lost his hat in the wind at a feast without realizing it; Liu Ling traveled with a jug of wine, followed by a servant with a spade, saying, "Bury me where I fall"; Shan Jian wore his cap backwards after intoxication; Tao Yuanming used his turban to strain his wine. Ruan Ji, drunk, slept beside a beauty, nearly causing misunderstanding; Zhang Xu dipped his hair in ink after drinking and wrote with divine inspiration. He Zhizhang, dizzy with wine, fell into a well and slept there; Bi Zhuo, though an official, stole wine at night and was caught by the host. Some even imitated turtle-drinking or prisoner-drinking in a cynical manner, yet this was not harmful to benevolence. As for rainy nights and snowy evenings, moonlit nights and flowery mornings, when the wind settles and dust clears, old friends and new courtesans, shoes and slippers intermingle, orchid and musk scents thicken, strings and pipes sound, soft songs rise, and one sips slowly and drinks gently—suddenly, a clear melody strikes up, and the whole feast listens in silence, as still as if no one were present. When elegant laughter and witty words issue forth, tongues blossom like lotuses, pearls of wisdom flow, and loud chanting rings out like jade and metal, clear and pleasing to the ear. Even if one becomes thoroughly drunk, his soul remains clear, and his dreams are true. If indeed this is so, then even if one gets drunk every day, he will not incur the reproach of the moral code.
But here the music was harsh and grating, vulgar tunes pouring forth incessantly; the drinkers rose and sat in turns, their clamor merging into one continuous din. Those penalized for failing to drink argued fiercely over a single drop, their urging to drink as if drawing swords to strike; the punished stretched their necks and furrowed their brows, raising their cups as if they held a cup of poison. Some, after draining the last drop, smashed their vessels and extinguished the lamps and candles. The fine green grape wine lay in a mess, wasted without care; some slept in drunken stupor, others raved in madness, utterly disregarding all rules of the feast. Such scenes as these were worse than not drinking at all. Others, with wine barely past their lips, not yet an inch down their throats, would mutter endlessly, mocking their host for stinginess; they sat and refused to leave, yet could not hold their liquor. The lack of virtue among drinkers was at its worst here. Even worse, once the wine entered their bellies, they gasped for breath, frowned and glared, their beards and hair bristling, baring their arms and leaping about with both feet. Their faces were covered in dust, their clothes stained with vomit; their mouths babbled nonsense like dogs barking, their hair disheveled like that of slaves. Their earth-shaking, heaven-calling antics were like Li He chanting poetry, as if to spit out his heart and liver; their every gesture and movement resembled Su Qin suffering the punishment of being torn apart by five chariots. Even the most silver-tongued orator could not fully describe their demeanor; the finest painter could not capture their image. When parents came to admonish them, they were met with defiance; wives and children, weak and frail, could hardly support their drunken bodies. Friends of their elders were subjected to groundless insults born of wine-fueled rage. Gentle remonstrance only made them more dizzy and dazed. Such men are called "wine fiends," beyond redemption. There is but one method to cure their drunkenness. What is that method? Simply prepare a stout wooden club, bind the drunkard's hands and feet, as one would slaughter a pig. Beat only his buttocks, not his head, and deliver a hundred or more blows; then he will suddenly come to his senses.
Commentary
This is a novel that synthesizes several folk legends and concepts, including the themes of releasing captive creatures for karmic reward, the turtle treasure, and the ancient mirror legend, with its main content serving as a cautionary tale against drunken misconduct. Among its passages, the description of the Eight Great King at night, "accompanied by two or three servants, staggering and limping along," "reeking of wine fumes," and "mumbling in reply, 'I am the former magistrate of the Southern Capital. What do you intend?'" is vividly lifelike, incorporating the scene from the Records of the Grand Historian where the drunken Li Guang encounters the Baling Commandant at night. The depiction of the ancient mirror being able to capture images is likely one of the earliest conjectures about photography in antiquity. These elements all make this tale engaging and readable.
Pu Songling was a renowned scholar who delighted in making friends and drinking wine, and he encountered not a few who lost their virtue after drinking; this piece should be inspired by such experiences. The "Drinker's Rhapsody" appended to the "Historian of the Strange says" is collected in the first volume of the Collected Works of Pu Songling.