Original Text
Zhang Hongjian was a native of Yongping, eighteen years of age, and a renowned scholar in the prefecture. At that time, the magistrate of Dragon City, Zhao by surname, was both avaricious and cruel, causing great suffering among the common people. A certain scholar named Fan was beaten to death by his staff, and his fellow students, indignant at this injustice, prepared to bring a complaint against Magistrate Zhao before the provincial governor. They sought Zhang Hongjian to draft the petition and invited him to join them in the lawsuit. Zhang Hongjian agreed. His wife, Fang, beautiful and virtuous, upon hearing of this, advised him, saying: "In general, when scholars undertake a matter, they may succeed together, but they cannot fail together. If successful, everyone vies for the credit; if they fail, they scatter and flee, unable to unite. Now, this is a world of power and influence; right and wrong are hard to determine by public reason. You stand alone, and should there be a reversal, who will come to your aid in times of peril?" Zhang Hongjian was convinced by her words and felt regret, so he politely declined the other scholars, merely providing them with a draft of the petition. The scholars submitted their complaint, and the governor conducted an inquiry but could not discern the truth of the matter. Magistrate Zhao bribed the presiding official heavily, and the scholars were convicted of forming a faction, arrested, and the author of the petition was pursued.
Zhang Hongjian, gripped by fear, fled from his home. When he reached the territory of Fengxiang in Shaanxi, his travel funds were exhausted. As night fell, he wandered aimlessly across the desolate wilderness, uncertain where to turn. Suddenly, he spied a small village ahead and hastened toward it. An elderly woman was just closing the door when she saw Zhang Hongjian and asked what he desired. He told her the truth of his plight. The old woman said, "To offer you food and lodging would be a small matter, but there is no man in this household, so it would be improper to keep you." Zhang Hongjian replied, "I dare not hope for much; I only ask to borrow a spot inside the gate for the night, enough to shelter me from wolves and tigers." The old woman then allowed him in, shut the door, and gave him a straw mat, admonishing him, "I pity your homelessness and have let you stay here in secret, but you must leave before dawn, lest my young mistress hear of it and blame me." With that, she departed, and Zhang Hongjian leaned against the wall to doze. Suddenly, a flash of lantern light appeared, and he saw the old woman leading a young lady out. Zhang Hongjian quickly hid in the shadows and stole a glance; the lady was a beauty of about twenty years. When she reached the door and saw the straw mat, she asked the old woman what it meant, and the old woman told her the truth. The lady said angrily, "This household is all weak women—how can we harbor a stranger of unknown origin?" She then demanded, "Where is that man?" Frightened, Zhang Hongjian came out and knelt at the foot of the steps. The lady closely questioned him about his birthplace and name, and her expression softened slightly. "Fortunately, you are a man of letters and propriety," she said, "so it is permissible to keep you. But this old servant did not report the matter to me and acted so carelessly—how is that the proper etiquette for receiving a gentleman?" She then ordered the old woman to lead the guest inside. Soon, fine and clean food and wine were set out, and after the meal, embroidered silk quilts were brought to make the bed. Zhang Hongjian was deeply grateful and privately inquired about the lady's surname. The old woman said, "Our family name is Shi. The master and mistress have both passed away, leaving only three daughters. The one you just saw is the eldest, Shunhua." Then the old woman left.
Zhang Hongjian noticed a copy of "Commentaries on the Southern Classic" on the table, so he picked it up, placed it on his pillow, and lay prone on the bed to leaf through it. Suddenly, Shunhua pushed the door open and entered. Zhang Hongjian set down the book, hastily searched for his shoes and cap, preparing to greet her. Shunhua walked over to the bedside, pressed him down to sit, and said, "No need to rise, no need to rise!" Then she leaned against the bed and sat down, speaking with a shy air: "I see you are a man of romantic talent, and I wish to entrust this household to you. Thus, I do not avoid suspicion and have come to propose this myself. You will not despise me for this and refuse me, will you?" Zhang Hongjian was so flustered that he knew not what to say, merely replying, "To be honest with you, I already have a wife at home." Shunhua smiled and said, "This too shows you are an honest man, but it is of no consequence. Since you do not disdain me, tomorrow I shall invite a matchmaker." Having said this, she made to leave. Zhang Hongjian rose slightly and pulled her back, and so she stayed. The next day, before dawn, Shunhua arose and gave Zhang Hongjian some silver, saying, "Take this for your traveling expenses. Come late in the evening, lest others see you." Zhang Hongjian followed her instructions, going out early and returning late each day, and thus half a year passed.
One day, Zhang Hongjian returned unusually early, but when he reached that place, the village and houses had all vanished, leaving him utterly astonished. As he hesitated in confusion, he heard an old woman's voice say, "Why have you come back so early!" In the blink of an eye, the courtyard appeared before him, just as it had always been, and he found himself already inside the house, which only deepened his bewilderment. Shunhua emerged from the inner chamber, smiling, and said, "You suspect me, don't you? Let me tell you the truth: I am a fox spirit, bound to you by a predestined bond from a former life. If you must take offense, then we shall part at once." Zhang Hongjian, captivated by her beauty, set his mind at ease and stayed. That evening, he said to Shunhua, "Since you are an immortal, you could surely cover a thousand li in a single breath. I have been away from home for three years, and my heart yearns for my wife and child. Could you take me back for a visit?" Shunhua seemed displeased and replied, "In the bond of husband and wife, I believe I have given you my whole heart. Yet, while you are with me, you think of another—this shows that your affection for me is all a pretense!" Zhang Hongjian apologized, saying, "How can you speak thus! As the saying goes, 'One day as husband and wife, a hundred days of grace and duty.' In the future, when I return home and think of you, it will be just as I think of her today. If I were one who forgets the old for the new, what would there be in me for you to love?" Shunhua then smiled and said, "My heart is narrow; for myself, I wish you never to forget me; for others, I wish you to forget them. Yet, if you wish to go home for a short while, what difficulty is there? Your home is right before your eyes."
Shunhua then took his sleeve and led him out the door, only to find the road dark and gloomy; Zhang Hongjian, timid and hesitant, dared not move forward. Shunhua pulled him along, and after a short while, said, "We have arrived. You may return now; I will go first." Zhang Hongjian stopped and carefully discerned his surroundings, and indeed saw his own home. He leaped in through a collapsed wall, and saw that the lamp and candle in the room were still lit. Approaching, he tapped on the window with two fingers; the person inside asked who it was, and Zhang Hongjian said he had returned. The person inside took the lamp and opened the door—it was truly his wife, Fang. When they saw each other, they were both startled and overjoyed, holding hands as they walked to the bed curtain. Seeing his son sleeping on the bed, he sighed, "When I left, my son was only as tall as my knee; now he has grown so big!" The couple nestled together, as if in a dream. Zhang Hongjian recounted all his experiences after fleeing from beginning to end. When he asked about the lawsuit, he learned that some of the scholars had died of illness in prison, while others had been exiled to distant lands; he then admired his wife's foresight even more. Fang threw herself into his arms and said, "You have a beautiful new wife now; I suppose you no longer think of me, who weeps all day and lives in solitude!" Zhang Hongjian replied, "If I did not think of you, how could I have returned? Though I am on good terms with her, she is ultimately not of my kind; it is just that her kindness is hard to forget." Fang said, "Who do you think I am?" Zhang Hongjian looked closely and saw that it was not Fang, but Shunhua. When he reached out to touch his son, it turned out to be a bamboo summer pillow. Zhang Hongjian was deeply ashamed and could not utter a word. Shunhua said, "I now know your heart! We should part ways from now on, but fortunately you have not forgotten my kindness, which may barely redeem your fault."
After two or three days, Shunhua suddenly said, "I think it's ultimately meaningless for me to cling to you with a one-sided infatuation. You complain every day that I won't send you back, and today I happen to be going to the capital, so I can take you home along the way." Then she took the Bamboo Wife from the head of the bed, and the two of them mounted it together, telling Zhang Hongjian to close his eyes. He felt that they were not far from the ground, with the wind whistling past. Before long, they landed on the ground. Shunhua said, "We shall part here." Just as Zhang Hongjian was about to arrange a day to meet again, Shunhua had already vanished from sight. Zhang stood there in disappointment for a while, then heard dogs barking in the village. He could dimly make out trees and houses, all familiar sights of his hometown, so he followed the path toward home. He leaped over the courtyard wall and knocked on the door, everything just as before. Fangshi woke with a start and rose, but she could not believe her husband had returned. She questioned him through the door until she was certain, then lit a lamp and came out sobbing to greet him. As soon as they met, she wept so bitterly she could not lift her head. Zhang Hongjian still suspected that Shunhua was playing tricks on him, and when he saw a child lying on the bed, just as before, he smiled and said, "Have you brought the Bamboo Wife again?" At this, Fangshi was baffled and said angrily, "I have been longing for your return, each day like a year, and the tear stains on my pillow are still fresh. Now that we meet, you show not a trace of sorrow—I truly do not know what kind of heart you have!" Zhang Hongjian realized that she was the real Fangshi, so he took her hand and wept, telling her the whole story in detail. When he asked about the outcome of the lawsuit, it was exactly as Shunhua had said.
The two were sighing in mutual lament when suddenly they heard footsteps outside the door. Asking who it was, no one answered. It turned out that in the village there was a dissolute young man who had long coveted Fang's beauty. That night, returning from another village, he saw from afar a person leaping over the wall, and assuming it must be a secret assignation with Fang, he followed stealthily inside. This young scoundrel, known as Jia, did not really know Zhang Hongjian, but he crouched outside and listened. When Fang repeatedly asked who was outside, he finally said, "Who is inside the room?" Fang deceived him, saying, "There is no one inside." Jia said, "I have been listening for a long time; I have come to catch the adulterer." Fang, having no choice, told him that it was her husband who had returned. Jia said, "Zhang Hongjian's great case is not yet settled; even if he has returned, he should be bound and sent to the authorities." Fang pleaded with him bitterly, but Jia took the opportunity to press his advances, his words growing ever more vile and unbearable. Zhang Hongjian's anger blazed within him; seizing a knife, he rushed out and struck Jia on the head with a single blow. Jia fell to the ground, still crying out, and Zhang struck him several more times, killing him. Fang said, "Since matters have come to this, your crime is even graver. Flee quickly, and I will take the blame." Zhang Hongjian said, "A true man would rather die than implicate his wife and child to save himself! Do not worry about me; only see that this child studies and becomes a man of talent, and I will die with my eyes closed." At dawn, Zhang Hongjian went to the county office to surrender himself. Magistrate Zhao, because he was a fugitive sought by the court, only applied slight torture. Soon, he was escorted from the county to the capital, bound with heavy cangue and tight chains, suffering every torment along the way.
On the road, they encountered a young woman riding a horse, with an old woman holding the reins. It was Shunhua. Zhang Hongjian called out to the old woman, wanting to speak, but as soon as he opened his mouth, tears streamed down his face. Shunhua reined in her horse, turned back, and lifted her veil with her hand, saying in surprise, "Cousin, how have you come to this state?" Zhang Hongjian briefly recounted the events. Shunhua said, "If I were to act according to your past deeds, I ought to turn my head and ignore you, but I cannot bear to. My home is not far from here; please allow the two officers to come along as well, so that I may offer some small assistance for your journey." The group followed her for two or three li, and saw a mountain village with tall and orderly towers and pavilions. The woman dismounted and entered, instructing the old woman to open the door and invite the guests inside. Shortly, a lavish feast was laid out, as if prepared long in advance. She also sent the old woman out to say, "There are no men in the house at the moment; Master Zhang, please urge the officers to drink a few more cups, for they will need to look after you on the road ahead. I have already sent someone to procure several dozen taels of silver as travel expenses for Master Zhang and to reward the two officers, but they have not yet returned." The two officers secretly rejoiced, drinking freely and no longer speaking of continuing the journey. As evening fell, both officers were thoroughly drunk. Shunhua came out, pointed at the cangue, and the lock immediately opened. She pulled Zhang Hongjian onto a horse with her, and they flew off like a dragon. In a short while, Shunhua made him dismount, saying, "You may get off here. I have an appointment with my sister at Qinghai, and I have delayed because of you; I fear she has been waiting long." Zhang Hongjian asked, "When shall we meet again?" Shunhua did not answer, and when he pressed her further, she pushed him off the horse and departed. At daybreak, Zhang Hongjian inquired where this place was and learned it was Taiyuan County. He then went to the prefectural city, rented a room, and made a living by teaching, adopting the alias Gong Ziqian.
Zhang Hongjian had resided in Taiyuan for ten years. Only when he learned that the official pursuit of him had gradually slackened did he begin to make his way home slowly. Upon reaching the village entrance, he dared not enter immediately but waited until deep night before proceeding. When he arrived at his own door, he found the courtyard walls had become high and thick, impossible to scale, so he had to knock with his horsewhip. After a long while, his wife came out to ask who it was. Zhang Hongjian told her in a low voice. Lady Fang was overjoyed and quickly opened the door to let him in, but she scolded loudly, saying, "If the young master had insufficient funds in the capital, he should have returned earlier. Why send you back in the dead of night?" Once inside, they recounted to each other what had happened since their separation, learning that the two constables had fled and never returned. As they spoke, a young woman paced back and forth outside the door curtain. Zhang Hongjian asked who she was, and Lady Fang replied, "She is our daughter-in-law." He asked, "And where is our son?" She answered, "He has gone to the provincial capital for the examinations and has not yet returned." Zhang Hongjian wept and said, "I have wandered abroad for so many years, and now my son has grown to manhood. I never imagined he would continue our family's scholarly tradition. You have truly exhausted your heart and soul!" Before he finished speaking, the daughter-in-law had already warmed the wine and prepared the meal, setting a full table before them. Zhang Hongjian was overjoyed beyond measure. For several days, he stayed at home, hiding indoors and never daring to go out, for fear that others might discover him. One night, just as they had lain down, they suddenly heard a clamor of voices outside and someone pounding violently on the door. The two were terrified and rose together. Hearing someone say, "Is there a back door?" They grew even more frightened and hastily used the door panel as a ladder to help Zhang Hongjian leap over the wall and escape. Only then did Lady Fang go to the door to ask what was happening, and she learned that their son had passed the provincial examination and someone had come to report the news. Lady Fang was overjoyed but deeply regretted having let Zhang Hongjian flee, though it was too late to pursue him.
That night, Zhang Hongjian fled through tangled woods and wild thickets, taking any path in his haste, and by dawn he was utterly exhausted. At first he had intended to go westward, but upon asking a passerby, he learned that the main road to the capital was not far off. So he entered a village, hoping to sell his clothes in exchange for a meal. He came upon a grand mansion with a celebratory notice pasted on its wall; drawing near, he saw that the family name was Xu, and that a man of this house had recently passed the provincial examination. Soon an old man emerged from the gate, and Zhang Hongjian stepped forward to bow, explaining his wish to trade clothes for food. The old man, seeing his refined and scholarly bearing, knew he was no common beggar and invited him inside to dine. When asked where he was bound, Zhang Hongjian fabricated a tale: "I was teaching in the capital and met with bandits on my way home." The old man then asked him to stay and tutor his young son. Zhang Hongjian gently inquired about the old man's background and learned that he had once served as an official in the capital and had now retired to his native place; the newly honored graduate was his nephew. After a month or so, the young graduate brought home a fellow successful candidate, a man from Yongping named Zhang, a youth of eighteen or nineteen. Zhang Hongjian, noting that both his native place and surname matched his own, secretly suspected this might be his son, but as there were many Zhangs in the county, he held his peace. That evening, when the young graduate opened his luggage and produced a roster of the same year's graduates, Zhang Hongjian eagerly borrowed it to peruse, and indeed found his own son's name. Tears streamed down his face. Everyone was startled and asked the reason, whereupon he pointed to the name and said, "Zhang Hongjian is myself." Then he recounted his full story in detail. The young Zhang graduate embraced his father and wept bitterly. The Xu uncle and nephew consoled them, and their grief turned to joy. Old Mr. Xu then wrote letters and sent gifts to several high officials to smooth over Zhang Hongjian's legal troubles, and so father and son were able to return home together.
Since Madam Fang received the joyful news of her son's success, she had spent her days grieving over Zhang Hongjian's exile and wandering afar. Suddenly, someone announced that the filial scholar had returned, which only deepened her sorrow. In a moment, however, she saw father and son enter together, and was struck with utter astonishment, as if her husband had descended from the heavens. Upon learning the full account of events, she shared in the mingled grief and joy of all present. The father of Jia, seeing that Zhang Hongjian's son had attained the rank of provincial graduate, dared no longer harbor thoughts of vengeance. Zhang Hongjian treated him with exceptional generosity, recounting the entire circumstances from beginning to end. Jia's father, overcome with shame, thus became a close friend with Zhang.
Commentary
This is a legendary tale of joy and sorrow, of partings and reunions. The protagonist, Zhang Hongjian, encounters a fox maiden named Shunhua while fleeing, who takes him in, helps him return to his homeland, evades capture, and reunites his family. Shunhua, the fox maiden, is tender as water toward Zhang Hongjian, yet respects his emotions, being affectionate without clinging. "I have a narrow heart," she says, "for myself, I wish you never forget; for others, I wish you forget them entirely." Honest, free-spirited, she stands unique among the many fox maidens in Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio. Later, Pu Songling adapted this story into the Liaozhai Folk Songs, titled The Wealthy Immortal and The Song of Suffering.
Why did Zhang Hongjian go into exile? It was because "at that time, the magistrate of Lulong, a man named Zhao, was greedy and cruel, causing the people to suffer bitterly. A scholar named Fan was beaten to death, and his fellow students, indignant at his unjust fate, planned to appeal to the provincial court. They sought Zhang to draft the legal complaint and invited him to join their cause." Without the assistance of the fox maiden Shunhua throughout his trials, Zhang Hongjian's family could never have turned their bitterness into sweetness, reflecting the darkness of judicial governance in the early Qing dynasty. In the end, because Zhang Hongjian's son passed the imperial examination as a Xiaolian, "father and son returned home together," and the author wrote that the enemy Jia's father, "seeing his son's high rank, dared not harbor any malicious intent again." The critic Feng Zhenluan remarked, "Magistrate Zhao must have been dismissed from office, otherwise this ending would not be fully resolved." He criticized Pu Songling for leaving a loose thread in the conclusion, which was a very insightful observation.
Fang Shi said: "Generally speaking, when scholars undertake a task, they can share in success but cannot share in failure. In victory, each man claims the credit for himself; but once defeated, they scatter like fragments, unable to hold together." This critique of the deep-rooted flaws in the Chinese intellectual character strikes home with unerring precision. From the documents collected in the "Complete Works of Pu Songling," such as "A Petition for Permission to Take the Examination as a Third-Rank Candidate," "A Petition for Expanding the Quota in the Provincial Examination," "A Plea for an Expedited Examination," and "A Resignation from the Post of Senior Scholar," it is evident that Pu Songling was a leading figure among the local scholars. This remark likely stems from his own personal experience and hard-won wisdom.