Original Text
Wang Mian, styled Minzhai, was a man of Lingshan. He was quick-witted and excelled in examinations, often ranking first, yet he was arrogant and fond of making sarcastic remarks, which led many to suffer from his mockery. One day, he happened upon a Taoist priest, who, after observing Wang, said, "Your countenance is exceedingly noble, but the karmic retribution from your sarcastic words has diminished it entirely. With your intelligence, if you were to change your mindset and cultivate the Way, you might even become an immortal." Wang sneered and replied, "Blessings are indeed unknowable, but where in this world are there immortals?" The Taoist said, "Why is your vision so shallow? There is no need to seek elsewhere; I myself am an immortal." Wang laughed even more, accusing him of lying. The Taoist asked, "What is so extraordinary about me? If you are willing to follow me, you can immediately see dozens of true immortals." Wang inquired, "Where are they?" The Taoist replied, "Right here, close at hand." He then placed a staff between his legs, handed the other end to Wang, instructing him to do the same, and told him to close his eyes and shout, "Rise!" Wang felt the staff grow as thick as a five-dou sack, lifting them into the air. When he secretly touched it, he found it covered with scales. Startled and fearful, Wang dared not move. After a while, the Taoist shouted, "Stop!" and withdrew the staff, and they landed in a grand mansion, with layered towers and extended galleries, resembling an imperial palace. There was a terrace over ten feet high, with a hall supported by eleven massive pillars, magnificent beyond compare. The Taoist led Wang up the terrace and ordered a young attendant to prepare a feast for the guest. Dozens of tables were set up in the hall, their splendor dazzling the eyes. The Taoist changed into splendid robes and waited.
After a while, guests arrived from the sky, some riding dragons, some riding tigers, and some riding phoenixes, each different from the other, and each carrying musical instruments. There were women and men, and some even barefoot. Among the guests was a beautiful woman riding a five-colored phoenix, dressed in palace attire, with a maid carrying her instrument, which was over five feet long, neither a zither nor a lute, and its name was unknown. The feast began, and various rare delicacies from land and sea were laid out one after another, tasting exceptionally fragrant and sweet, vastly different from ordinary dishes. Wang Mian sat silently, unable to take his eyes off the beautiful woman, deeply admiring her, and longing to hear her play, yet secretly fearing she might not perform. When the wine was nearly finished, an old man proposed: "Thanks to Immortal Cui for summoning us, today can be called a grand gathering, and we should naturally enjoy ourselves to the fullest. Let those who hold the same instruments play together in harmony." So they paired up accordingly and began to play, the sound of strings and woodwinds piercing the clouds. Only the woman riding the phoenix had no one whose instrument matched hers. After the others finished, the maid carrying the instrument untied the embroidered case, laid the instrument horizontally on a table, and the woman gently extended her jade-like wrists to play, her technique resembling that of playing the zheng, but the sound was several times louder than the qin, so loud it could expand one's heart and mind, yet so soft it could melt one's soul. For about the time it takes to eat half a meal, the entire hall was silent, not even a cough was heard. When the piece ended, there was a resonant clang, like striking a chime. Everyone praised in unison: "Truly the peerless skill of Lady Yunhe!" Then all rose to take their leave, with cranes crying and dragons roaring, and in a moment, they were all gone.
The Taoist priest spread out a bed with brocade covers for Wang Mian to sleep. As soon as Wang Mian saw the beautiful woman, love stirred in his heart, and after hearing her play, his longing grew even more ardent. He thought to himself that with his talents, obtaining high office would be as easy as picking up a blade of grass, and once wealthy and noble, what could he not achieve? In an instant, a thousand thoughts swirled in his mind, tangled like a mess of hemp. The Taoist seemed to know what was in his heart and said to him, "In a former life, you and I were fellow students, but because your will was not firm, you fell into the mortal world. I do not regard you as an outsider; truly, I wished to pluck you from the mire, but I did not expect you to have strayed so deep into delusion, muddled and unable to awaken. Now I shall send you back. It is not that we may never meet again, but if you wish to become a celestial immortal, you must endure two calamities." Then he pointed to a long stone at the foot of the steps and bade him sit on it with closed eyes, repeatedly instructing him not to open them. Having said this, he whipped the stone with a switch. The stone flew up, and the wind roared in his ears; he knew not how far he had traveled. Suddenly, Wang Mian thought to himself what the scenery below might be like, and secretly cracked his eyes open a slit. He saw only a vast expanse of ocean, boundless and without end. Terrified, he quickly shut his eyes, but by then his body and the stone had already fallen from the sky together, and with a loud splash, like a seagull diving into the water, he sank. Fortunately, having grown up by the sea, he knew a little of swimming. At that moment, he heard someone clapping and saying, "What a splendid fall!"
Just as he was in mortal danger, a young woman rescued him onto her boat and said, "Auspicious, auspicious! The scholar has caught a 'drenching'!" Wang Mian looked at her; she was about sixteen or seventeen years old, with a beautiful countenance. After emerging from the water, he shivered with cold and begged to warm himself by a fire. The woman said, "Come with me to my home, and I will arrange something for you. If you are satisfied, do not forget me." Wang Mian replied, "What words are these! I am a gifted scholar from the Central Plains, who has chanced upon such a plight. If I escape this calamity, I will repay you with my very person—how could I merely not forget you!" The woman grasped the oar and rowed the boat, swift as wind and rain, and in no time they neared the shore. She took a handful of lotus blossoms from the cabin and led Wang Mian ashore. After walking half a li, they entered a village and saw a house with vermilion gates facing south. Passing through several doors, the woman went in first. Shortly, a man of about forty years came out, bowed to Wang Mian, and invited him up the steps into the hall. He ordered a servant to bring clothes, a hat, shoes, and socks for him to change into. After changing, the man inquired about his family and surname. Wang Mian said, "To be frank, my reputation is well known. The Immortal Cui has shown me great favor and summoned me to the realm of the immortals. I believe that winning official honors is as easy as turning my hand, so I am unwilling to live in seclusion." The man rose respectfully and said, "This place is called Immortal Isle, far from the mortal world. My name is Huan Wenruo, and my family has lived in this secluded spot for generations. Today, I am fortunate to meet a man of renown." He then warmly set out wine and dishes. After a while, he said calmly, "I have two daughters; the elder is named Fangyun, sixteen this year, but as yet she has met no worthy match. I wish to have her serve you, a man of noble character—what do you think?" Wang Mian thought to himself that she must surely be the beautiful lotus-gathering maiden, and quickly rose to thank him. Huan Wenruo then ordered that several venerable elders be invited from the neighborhood, and immediately sent for his daughter to be brought forth.
After a short while, an exotic fragrance assailed the nostrils, and a dozen or so beautiful maidens escorted Fangyun out, her radiance and charm as bright as a blooming lotus reflecting the morning sun. After the formal greetings, they all took their seats. The maidens stood by her side, and among them was the lotus-gathering girl. After a few cups of wine, a young girl emerged from the inner chamber, no more than ten years old, with a graceful and lovely countenance, smiling as she leaned against Fangyun, her eyes darting left and right. Huan Wenruo looked at her and said, "Why does this child not stay in her own room, but come out here?" Then, turning to the guest, he added, "This is Lüyun, my youngest daughter. She is quite clever and can recite many ancient books." He then bade her recite a poem for the guest. So Lüyun recited three verses of the "Bamboo Branch Songs," her voice sweet and melodious. After finishing, he had her sit next to her elder sister. Huan Wenruo then addressed Wang Mian, saying, "Young Master Wang is a genius, and your works must be numerous. Would you allow me to have the honor of hearing one?" Wang Mian readily agreed and immediately recited a recent-style poem, looking around with great self-satisfaction after finishing. The poem contained these two lines:
A single body remains with beard and brows intact, a small drink can dissolve the lumps of frustration in the heart.
The old neighbor recited it repeatedly. Fangyun whispered to him, saying, "The first line refers to Sun Wukong leaving the Fiery Cloud Cave, and the second line refers to Zhu Bajie crossing the Mother-Child River." Hearing this, all those present clapped their hands and burst into laughter. Huan Wenruo then asked Wang Mian to recite some other works. Wang Mian began reciting the poem "Water Birds": "At the islet's head, the cry of 'ge zhe'..." After finishing this line, he suddenly forgot the next. As he hesitated, Fangyun whispered to her younger sister, and after speaking, covered her mouth with a laugh. Luyun said to her father, "Elder sister has completed the next line for brother-in-law. It is: 'From a dog's rear, a sound like 'peng ba'.'" The entire company erupted in uproarious laughter, and Wang Mian felt somewhat ashamed. Huan Wenruo glared angrily at Fangyun, and only then did Wang Mian's composure settle a little.
Huan Wenruo then asked Wang Mian to share his essay. Wang Mian thought to himself that these recluses surely knew nothing of the eight-legged essay, so he proudly recited the one that had earned him first place, its topic being the two lines "Filial indeed was Min Ziqian," with the opening line: "The sage praised the filial piety of a great worthy..." Green Cloud looked at her father and said, "The sage would not use such words to address a disciple; the phrase 'Filial indeed...' is someone else's speech." Wang Mian heard this and his excitement instantly faded. Huan Wenruo smiled and said, "What does a child know! The quality of an essay does not lie here; it depends only on the essay itself." Wang Mian continued reciting. After every few lines, the two sisters would whisper to each other, as if making comments, though their murmurs were indistinct. When Wang Mian reached the parts he was most proud of, he even recounted the examiner's remarks, one of which said, "Every word is painfully incisive." Green Cloud told her father, "My sister says, 'The word "incisive" should be removed.'" No one understood what this meant. Huan Wenruo, fearing it might slight Wang Mian, dared not inquire further. After Wang Mian finished reciting, he also related the examiner's overall comment, which included the phrase, "Like a single beat of the Jie drum, causing ten thousand flowers to fall together." Fang Yun again covered her mouth and whispered to her sister, and the two laughed so hard they doubled over. Green Cloud then told her father, "My sister says, 'The Jie drum should be beaten four times.'" Again, no one understood. Green Cloud was about to explain, but Fang Yun, suppressing her laughter, scolded, "You little devil, if you dare speak, I'll beat you to death!" The others grew even more puzzled and began guessing among themselves. Unable to contain herself, Green Cloud finally said, "Removing the word 'incisive' leaves 'painful,' which sounds like 'not fluent.' Beating the drum four times makes the sound 'not fluent and not fluent again.'" Hearing this, everyone burst into laughter. Huan Wenruo angrily scolded the two sisters, then stood up to offer a toast, hastily apologizing. At first, Wang Mian had considered himself highly talented and famous, looking down on everyone past and present, but now his spirit was deflated, and he could only sweat with shame. Huan Wenruo, trying to appease him, said, "I have just the right couplet for everyone here to match: 'Beside the prince, there is not a single point that does not resemble jade.'" Before the others could think of a response, Green Cloud answered, "On the head of the old man with a toad, adding half an evening makes him a turtle." Fang Yun could not help laughing and repeatedly reached out to tickle Green Cloud. Green Cloud quickly fled, turning back to say, "What business is it of yours! You keep scolding endlessly, and that's fine, but when someone else says a word, it's not allowed?" Huan Wenruo scolded them a few more times, and they finally left laughing. The old neighbor also took his leave. The maids led Wang Mian and Fang Yun, the newlyweds, into the bridal chamber, where the lamps, screens, beds, and other furnishings were exquisitely arranged. They also saw that the bridal room was filled with shelves of books, almost every kind imaginable. When Wang Mian casually posed a difficult question, Fang Yun answered fluently as if it were nothing.
At this point, Wang Mian finally realized how shallow his own knowledge was, feeling the shame of one who gazes at the ocean and sighs at his own insignificance. Fang Yun called out "Ming Dang," and the lotus-gathering maiden responded with a quick step as she entered; only then did he learn her name. Wang Mian had been repeatedly mocked and feared that Fang Yun looked down on him, but fortunately, though her speech was sharp, within the boudoir their marital affection was deep and tender. With nothing to occupy him, Wang Mian often recited poetry. Fang Yun said, "I have a good word of advice; I wonder if you will heed it?" Wang Mian asked, "What is it?" Fang Yun replied, "From now on, cease composing poetry; it is a way to conceal your shortcomings." Wang Mian felt deeply ashamed and never wrote poetry again. As time passed, Wang Mian grew gradually close to Ming Dang. He told Fang Yun, "Ming Dang once saved my life; I hope you will treat her kindly." Fang Yun agreed at once. Whenever the couple frolicked in their chamber, they would summon Ming Dang to join them, and thus the bond between Wang Mian and Ming Dang deepened, with frequent exchanges of glances and gestures. Fang Yun noticed this slightly and reproached him several times, but Wang Mian only stammered and vehemently denied it. One evening, as the couple sat drinking together, Wang Mian felt the atmosphere dull and urged that Ming Dang be called; Fang Yun refused. Wang Mian said, "You have read every book; how can you not recall those lines about 'enjoying alone'?" Fang Yun replied, "I said you were unlearned, and now it is proven true. Do you not even know how to punctuate a sentence? It should be read thus: 'To desire alone is to desire what others desire; ask what joy, who desires it? The answer is: none.'" With that, she laughed.
It happened that Fangyun and her sister had been invited by a neighboring girl companion to go out for a visit, so Wang Mian seized the opportunity to summon Mingdang, and the two of them indulged in the utmost intimacy. That very evening, he felt a slight pain in his lower abdomen, and after the pain subsided, his private parts became swollen. Wang Mian was greatly alarmed and told Fangyun about it, who laughed and said, "This must surely be the repayment for your kindness to Mingdang!" Wang Mian dared not conceal the truth and confessed everything. Fangyun said, "This calamity you have brought upon yourself is truly incurable; since it is neither painful nor itchy, just let it be." After several days without improvement, Wang Mian grew gloomy and joyless. Fangyun understood his thoughts but did not inquire, only gazing at him with eyes as clear as autumn waters and as bright as the morning star. Wang Mian said, "Your appearance is exactly like the saying in the books: 'If the heart is upright, the eyes are clear and bright.'" Fangyun smiled and replied, "Your appearance is like 'If the heart is not upright, the eyes are dim and dull.'" The word for "dim" in the original phrase was pronounced like "mou," and she deliberately used this to tease him. Wang Mian could not help but burst out laughing and begged Fangyun to find a cure. Fangyun said, "You did not listen to good advice; before this, you must have suspected me of jealousy, not knowing that this girl was inherently untouchable. I originally acted out of love, but you treated my words like the east wind blowing past a horse's ear, so I deliberately scorned you and showed no pity. There is no choice but to treat you now, yet the physician must examine the afflicted area." So she reached into Wang Mian's clothing and murmured, "Yellow bird, yellow bird, do not perch on the Chu tree!" Wang Mian could not help but laugh heartily, and after the laughter subsided, his ailment was cured.
After several months, Wang Mian grew deeply homesick, thinking of his aging parents and young children at home. He confided his feelings to Fangyun, who said, "Returning is not difficult, but who knows when we shall meet again?" Wang Mian wept at her words and begged her to accompany him home. Fangyun hesitated for a long time before finally agreeing. Huan Wenruo prepared a farewell feast for the couple, and as they dined, Lüyun entered carrying a basket, saying, "Elder Sister is departing far away, and I have nothing worthy to give. Fearing you might have no dwelling upon reaching Hainan, I have labored day and night to build you a palace; do not despise its crudeness." Fangyun accepted it with a bow. Wang Mian drew near to examine it and found it to be a set of miniature pavilions woven from fine grass, the largest the size of a citron, the smallest like an orange, some twenty in number, each with beams and eaves clearly discernible, and within, the furnishings and couches were as tiny as sesame seeds. Wang Mian regarded it as merely a child's toy, yet marveled at its exquisite craftsmanship. Fangyun said, "To tell you the truth: we are all earthly immortals. Because of a predestined bond with you, I have agreed to accompany you. I had no wish to enter the mortal world, but for the sake of your aged father, I could not bear to defy your wishes. Once your father has passed on, I must return." Wang Mian respectfully agreed. Huan Wenruo asked, "Will you travel by land or by sea?" Wang Mian, fearing the perils of wind and waves at sea, chose the land route. When they stepped outside, a carriage and horses were already waiting at the gate. Wang Mian thanked Huan Wenruo and set off, the carriage speeding like the wind. In no time, they reached the seashore, and Wang Mian worried there was no road ahead. Fangyun produced a bolt of white silk and cast it southward, where it transformed into a long causeway over ten feet wide. In the blink of an eye, they crossed over it, and the causeway gradually vanished. They arrived at a place where the tide passed through, and all around was a vast, boundless expanse. Fangyun bade them stop, descended from the carriage, and took out the grass-woven palace from the basket. Together with the maid Mingdang and others, she arranged it piece by piece, and in an instant, it became a grand mansion. They all entered, unpacked their luggage, and found it no different from the island dwelling; the bridal chamber's couches and tables were exactly as before. As night had fallen, they lodged there. The next day, Fangyun sent Wang Mian to fetch his parents and children from home.
Wang Mian urged the carriage straight toward his old home, but upon arrival, he found the house had changed owners. Inquiring among the villagers, he learned that his mother and wife had both passed away, leaving only his aged father still alive. His son, a gambler, had lost all the family property, and the grandfather and grandson, having no place to live, were temporarily lodging in the western village. When Wang Mian first returned home, he still harbored thoughts of pursuing officialdom through examinations, a notion that clung persistently to his mind. But upon witnessing this scene, his heart was filled with profound grief, and he reflected that even if wealth and rank could be attained, what difference did they make from illusory flowers? Driving his carriage to the western village, he saw his father in tattered clothes, aged and pitiable. When father and son met, they both wept bitterly. Wang Mian asked about his worthless son, only to learn that he had not yet returned from gambling. Wang Mian then brought his father back. Fangyun paid respects to her father-in-law, and after performing the proper rites, prepared hot water for the old man to bathe, brought him silk brocade garments, and let him sleep in a fragrant chamber. She also invited several venerable and knowledgeable elders to converse and feast with the old man, so that his enjoyment surpassed that of the great noble houses. One day, Wang Mian's son tracked him down here as well, but Wang Mian refused to see him, barring him from entering, and merely gave him twenty taels of silver, sending a message: "Take this money to buy yourself a wife and find a means to make a living. If you come again, I will beat you to death with a whip!" The son departed weeping.
After Wang Mian returned home, he seldom associated with others, yet whenever an old friend came to visit, he would receive them with warm hospitality, his demeanor even more humble than in days past. One particular friend, Huang Zijie, had been a fellow student of Wang Mian in earlier times and was also a renowned scholar who had met with misfortune. Wang Mian kept him for an extended stay, often engaging in private conversations with him and bestowing generous gifts. After three or four years, Wang Mian's father passed away. Wang Mian spent a considerable sum to select an auspicious burial site and interred his father with full rites. By then, his son had already taken a wife, and the daughter-in-law was strict in her governance of the household, so the son seldom indulged in gambling. On the day of the burial, Wang Mian finally allowed his daughter-in-law to pay respects to her parents-in-law. Fangyun, upon seeing the young woman, praised her ability to manage the household and presented her with three hundred taels of silver to purchase farmland. The next day, Huang Zijie and Wang Mian's son came together to visit, but the entire estate had vanished without a trace, and none knew where it had gone.
The Chronicler of Strange Tales remarks: Wherever there is a beautiful woman, even if she dwells in the underworld, there will be those who pursue her—how much more so if she can grant longevity? If an earthly immortal were to permit taking such a beauty away, I fear the imperial capital would be emptied of its inhabitants. Wang Mian, due to his frivolous nature, failed to attain official rank, which was only fitting; but could it be that the immortals were indifferent to his frivolity? As for his wife's tongue, how sharp and cutting it was!
Commentary
Within "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio," some works reveal Pu Songling's literary concepts, bearing a playful and recreational nature. He says: "At feasts with honored guests, raising cups in poetic musings, encountering a scenic spot unexpectedly, stroking one's beard in mutual appreciation," and "using the leisure after gatherings as a means to express one's aspirations" (from the preface to the "Yingzhong Poetry Society"). "Learning from the immortal Su Shi to dispel melancholy, casually speaking of old ghosts, inviting the noble to sit, fabricating new Zen. Lightly brushing aside the clear breeze, finely critiquing the bright moon, still regretting that the ancients have preceded me" (from the "Qinyuanchun" in the "Liaozhai Lyrics Collection"). This playful brushwork sometimes appears in the form of storytelling, sometimes uses tales to showcase one's own writings. This particular story, through the mouths of the sisters Fangyun and Lüyun, mocks the arrogance of so-called scholars of the day, ridiculing and critiquing popular poetry, the eight-legged essays of the imperial examinations, and the classics of the sages, deconstructing their solemnity to bring light-hearted relief, showcasing Pu Songling's profound talent and wit. The tale unfolds in three scenes, with the centerpiece on Immortal Island, where the core lies in discussions of poetry and essays. Beyond these literary discourses, the romantic flight of immortals, the playful metaphors within the boudoir, and the exquisite craftsmanship of Shandong's straw weaving are all vividly depicted.