Original Text
Wang Zi'an was a renowned scholar in Dongchang County, yet he had never found success in the imperial examinations. This time, he held great hopes for the test. As the results were about to be announced, he drank himself into a deep stupor and lay down in his bedroom. Suddenly, someone said, "The messenger of good news has arrived!" Wang Zi'an staggered to his feet and exclaimed, "A reward of ten thousand cash!" His family, seeing he was drunk, deceived him to soothe him, saying, "Just go back to sleep; the reward has already been given." Only then did Wang Zi'an lie down again. Shortly after, another person entered and said, "You have passed the provincial examination!" Wang Zi'an muttered to himself, "I haven't even gone to the capital yet; how could I have passed?" The person replied, "Have you forgotten? All three sessions of the exam are already finished." Overjoyed, Wang Zi'an rose and shouted, "A reward of ten thousand cash!" His family deceived him again as before. After a while, a man rushed in and said, "You have been selected as a Hanlin academician in the palace examination, and your attendants are here." Indeed, two men appeared, bowing to him at the foot of the bed, both dressed in neat and splendid attire. Wang Zi'an ordered his family to reward them with wine and food, but his family again tricked him, secretly laughing at his drunkenness. Later, Wang Zi'an thought he must go out and show off in the village. He loudly called for his attendants, shouting dozens of times, but no one answered. His family laughed and said, "Just lie down and wait a while; we'll go find them." After a long time, the attendants indeed returned. Wang Zi'an pounded the bed and stamped his feet, cursing, "Where have you stupid slaves gone?" The attendant angrily replied, "You poor, worthless scoundrel! This was just a game with you, and you actually curse me?" Wang Zi'an, furious, suddenly stood up and lunged forward, knocking off the man's hat. He himself also fell. His wife came in, helped him up, and said, "How could you get so drunk!" Wang Zi'an said, "The attendants are too detestable; I was just punishing them—how am I drunk?" His wife laughed and said, "In this house, there is only one old servant woman, who cooks for you during the day and warms your feet at night. Where are there any attendants to serve your poor bones?" The children all laughed. Wang Zi'an's drunkenness gradually subsided, and he suddenly felt as if waking from a dream, realizing that everything just now was false. Yet he still remembered that the attendant's hat had been knocked to the ground; he searched behind the door and found a tasseled cap the size of a small cup, which everyone found strange. Wang Zi'an laughed wryly and said, "In the past, someone was tricked by a ghost; today, I have been fooled by a fox."
The Chronicler of the Strange remarks: When a scholar enters the examination hall, he assumes seven forms: At the start, barefoot and carrying a basket, he resembles a beggar. When his name is called, the examiner shouts and the attendants berate him, like a prisoner. Inside the examination cubicle, each hole reveals a head, each cell a pair of feet, like bees in the cold autumn wind. Upon leaving, he is utterly disheartened, the world changed in hue, like a sick bird freed from its cage. While awaiting the results, every blade of grass and tree startles him, day and night filled with restless dreams. At the thought of success, pavilions and towers rise before his eyes in an instant; at the thought of failure, his bones seem to rot away. During this time, he cannot sit or stand still, like a tethered monkey. Suddenly, a swift horseman arrives with news; if his name is not on the list, his face changes color, and he is as if dead with despair, like a fly that has swallowed poison, insensible to touch. After his first failure, his heart sinks, and he curses the examiner for blindness and his own pen for lack of spirit, vowing to burn all his writings; what remains he tramples, and what cannot be trampled he throws into the gutter, swearing never to take the exams again. He resolves to retire to the mountains, facing the cliffs, and if anyone dares to recommend essays beginning with "Moreover" or "It is said," he will drive them away with a spear. But as time passes, the sting of failure fades, his anger subsides, and his desire to write stirs again, like a dove breaking from its shell, forced to rebuild its nest from scratch. Such is the scene—the sufferer weeps as if dying, yet to the onlooker, it is utterly ridiculous. Wang Zi'an's mind suddenly surged with myriad thoughts; surely the ghosts and foxes had long been laughing in secret, and so they took advantage of his drunkenness to toy with him. His wife by the bedside was clear-headed—how could she not laugh silently? Look at the glory and taste of success—it lasts but a moment. The scholars of the Hanlin Academy have merely experienced two or three such moments; Wang Zi'an tasted them all at once, and thus the fox's favor was no different from that of a recommending examiner.
Commentary
This chapter is an important piece among the tales of the imperial examinations in Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, serving as a genealogical chart of the various maladies afflicting scholars who partook in the civil service exams, and it is also distinctive in style. The first half recounts how Wang Zi'an, a renowned scholar from Dongchang, was mocked by a fox after the examination results were posted, satirizing the delusions of scholars seeking officialdom through the imperial exams. Wang Zi'an's hallucinations, the fox's taunts, and the care and comfort of his family interweave in a three-dimensional, simultaneous progression within a brief span, akin to a trio in instrumental music, showcasing Pu Songling's extraordinary narrative skill. The latter half consists of reflections on the story, and the two parts blend seamlessly, forming a cohesive whole.
"A scholar entering the examination hall has seven resemblances," employing seven metaphors in succession: "like a beggar," "like a prisoner," "like a late-autumn chilled bee," "like a sick bird freed from its cage," "like a monkey caught in a trap," "like a fly poisoned by bait," and "like a turtledove breaking from its egg," vividly and incisively depicting how the imperial examinations twisted the bodies and souls of scholars. As Dan Minglun remarked: "The description is exhaustive; the master has spoken from personal experience." The scholar's seven resemblances were both a portrayal of others and a reflection of Pu Songling himself. Unfortunately, constrained by his era and his own limitations, Pu Songling was like an addict who, fully aware of the harm of his addiction, remained deeply ensnared and unable to extricate himself; throughout his entire life, he never broke free from the shackles of the imperial examinations.