Original Text
There was a mad Daoist, whose name was unknown, who lived in the Temple on Mount Meng. Sometimes he sang, sometimes he wept, behaving most strangely, and no one could fathom his ways; some even saw him boiling stones for his meals. On the Double Ninth Festival, a wealthy and powerful man from the city brought wine to ascend the heights, riding in a carriage with an umbrella, making a grand and ostentatious procession to Mount Meng. After the feast, as he passed by the temple, he saw the Daoist, barefoot and clad in a tattered robe, holding a yellow umbrella himself, chanting commands of solemnity as he came out of the temple, as if mocking the climbers. The wealthy man, both ashamed and enraged, ordered his servants to drive the Daoist away with insults. The Daoist laughed and retreated, and when pressed hard, he cast aside the yellow umbrella. The servants tore it apart, and the fragments turned into hawks, scattering in all directions. The crowd was astonished, and then they saw the umbrella handle transform into a giant python, its red scales dazzling to the eye; the people cried out in panic and fled. One of the companions, however, stopped them, saying, "This is but an illusion; how can it devour a man?" He drew a sword and advanced. The python opened its great mouth in fury and swallowed him in one gulp. The crowd, terrified, hurriedly surrounded the nobleman and fled, not daring to stop until they were three miles away. They sent a few men back to investigate, who crept cautiously into the temple, but found neither man nor python. As they were about to return and report, they heard a sound like a donkey panting from within an old locust tree, and were greatly alarmed. At first they dared not approach, but then they crept closer and saw that the tree trunk was hollow, with a hole the size of a plate. Peering in, they found the man who had fought the python stuck head-down inside, with the hole only wide enough for two hands, so they could not pull him out. Hastily they chopped the tree open, and when it was split, the man was already unconscious. After a while, he slowly revived, and they carried him back. The Daoist, however, was nowhere to be found.
The Chronicler of the Strange remarks: To carry an umbrella while roaming the mountains—such vulgarity is ingrained to the very marrow. How laughable, then, the immortal's mockery of that nobleman! In my native district, there was a scholar named Yin Wenping, brother-in-law to Minister of Agriculture Bi, a man who treated the world with irreverent disdain. In Zhangqiu, there was a scholar named Zhou, of humble birth, who would never go out without a sedan chair. He had some connection with Minister Bi. Once, on the occasion of Minister Bi's mother's birthday, Scholar Yin, certain that Scholar Zhou would attend, waited for him on the road ahead, wearing pigskin boots and a scholar's gown, holding a name card in hand. As soon as Zhou's sedan chair arrived, Yin bowed by the roadside and announced loudly, "The scholar of Zichuan greets the scholar of Zhangqiu!" Zhou, deeply ashamed, descended from his chair, exchanged a few pleasantries with Yin, and then took his leave. Later, when all gathered in Minister Bi's hall, the guests were arrayed in splendid robes and tall hats; at the sight of Yin's attire, everyone snickered secretly, but Yin remained proudly unperturbed. When the feast ended and the guests departed, each called for his carriage or sedan. Yin also shouted loudly, "Where is Master Yin's single-dragon carriage?" Immediately, two sturdy servants came forward, carrying a carrying-pole horizontally before Yin, who leaped astride it. With a word of thanks, he sped away like the wind. Truly, Scholar Yin was a man of the immortal kind.
Commentary
Displaying one's status and flaunting one's identity is not limited to travel alone; it often permeates all aspects of clothing, food, housing, and transportation. What is being displayed? What is being emphasized? Either it flaunts wealth, or it flaunts nobility—in short, it flaunts superiority over others. Because travel has a broader impact, drawing the gaze of many, and often clashes with the natural surroundings, it frequently becomes a target of satire for literati. As the saying goes, "To travel with a canopy and tour the mountains, the wearisome air seeps into the very marrow," which criticizes this from an aesthetic perspective.