Original Text
A countryman, happening to sit beneath a tree, felt a louse upon his person, wrapped it in a scrap of paper, and thrust it into a hollow in the trunk before departing. Two or three years later, passing by the same spot, he recalled the matter and, peering into the hollow, found the paper still there. Upon opening it, the louse remained, thin as a film of bran; the man placed it in his palm to examine it closely. Presently, an unbearable itching seized his palm, and the louse's belly gradually swelled. He cast the louse away and returned home, but where the itching had been, a lump the size of a walnut rose, and after a few days of swelling, the man died.
Commentary
In modern China, due to improvements in environmental hygiene, lice have become quite unfamiliar to people. But in olden times, they were parasitic pests that clung closely to human movements, sitting and lying down; upon discovery, no one would spare them or show them mercy. A certain villager played the role of the benevolent Mr. Dongguo, failing to kill them, and two or three years later suffered harm as a result. Although this tale merely records strange occurrences, it also makes clear a principle: when encountering pests, one must not be soft-hearted, otherwise one will bring calamity upon oneself.