Original Text
Jia Fengzhi was a man from Pingliang, whose literary talent once captivated the entire age, yet he repeatedly failed the imperial examinations. One day, on the road, he encountered a scholar who called himself Lang, with an elegant demeanor and refined, insightful speech. Jia Fengzhi invited him home and presented his own essays for guidance. After reading them, Scholar Lang was not very impressed and said, "Your writings are more than enough to secure first place in a minor examination, but if you were to take the provincial exam, I fear you might not even rank last." Jia Fengzhi asked, "What then should I do?" Scholar Lang replied, "In worldly affairs, reaching for something by standing on tiptoe is difficult, but stooping low to comply is easy—why must I explain such principles?" He then cited one or two men and one or two essays as models, all of which were precisely the kind Jia Fengzhi ordinarily despised and deemed unworthy of mention. Jia Fengzhi laughed and said, "A scholar's writing should aim for eternal renown; even if one enjoys the finest delicacies, it should not seem excessive to the world. But to seek fame and fortune in the manner you describe, even if one attains high office, it still feels base." Scholar Lang said, "Not so. Even if an essay is excellent, if its author is of low status, it will not be widely circulated. If you are content to cling to your writings and end your life thus, then so be it; otherwise, those chief examiners all gained their high positions through just such essays—they are unlikely to change their eyes and hearts just to read your work." Jia Fengzhi fell silent. Scholar Lang rose and said with a smile, "Truly, the ardor of youth!" Then he took his leave and departed.
That autumn, Jia Fengzhi took the provincial examination and failed once again, falling into deep dejection. Suddenly recalling Scholar Lang's words, he retrieved the essays Lang had instructed him to use as models and forced himself to read them. But before he could finish, he had already dozed off, leaving him even more perplexed and unable to control his own mind. Another three years passed, and as the next examination approached, Scholar Lang suddenly arrived, and both were delighted to see each other. Lang presented seven topics he had drafted and asked Jia to compose essays on them. The next day, Lang reviewed the essays and deemed them unsatisfactory, so he had Jia rewrite them. When Jia finished, Lang criticized them again. In jest, Jia then culled some long-winded, vapid, and shameful passages from the papers of failed candidates, patching together seven essays, which he showed to Lang upon his return. After reading them, Lang exclaimed joyfully, "At last you have found the knack of writing!" He then made Jia memorize these essays, repeatedly urging him not to forget them. Jia laughed and said, "To tell you the truth, these words are insincere and will be forgotten in the blink of an eye. Even if you beat me, I could not recall them." Lang sat by the desk, forced Jia to recite the essays once, then had him bare his back and drew several talismanic marks on it with a brush. Before leaving, he said, "These few essays are enough; you can put all other books aside." After Lang departed, Jia examined the marks on his back, which could not be washed off, having already sunk deep into his flesh. When Jia entered the examination hall, he found that all seven topics Lang had proposed were present. He tried to recall his other writings but could remember nothing; only those jesting, patched-together essays remained vividly in his mind, impossible to shake off. Yet after writing them down, he felt ashamed and wished to make slight alterations, but no matter how he racked his brains, he could not change a single word. As the sun was about to set, he had no choice but to copy the seven essays verbatim and then left the examination hall.
Scholar Jia Fengzhi had been waiting for Lang Xiucai for a long time, and when he emerged, he asked, "Why are you so late in coming out?" Jia Fengzhi told him the truth and requested that the talisman on his back be erased, but when he took off his clothes to look, the talisman had already vanished. When he tried to recall the essays he had written in the examination hall, it was as if they belonged to a past life, and he could no longer remember them. Greatly astonished, Jia Fengzhi asked, "Why did you not use this method yourself to seek fame and fortune?" Lang Xiucai smiled and said, "It is precisely because I have no desire for officialdom that I can refrain from reading such essays." With that, he arranged to meet Jia Fengzhi at his residence the next day, and Jia Fengzhi agreed. After Lang Xiucai left, Jia Fengzhi took out the seven essays and read them himself; none of them felt like works from his own heart, and he grew disheartened. The next day, he did not visit Lang Xiucai but returned home with his head hanging low. Soon after, the list of successful candidates was posted, and Jia Fengzhi had actually come in first place. He read the original drafts again, sweating with each essay he read, and by the time he finished them all, his clothes were drenched. He said to himself, "If such essays are made public, what face will I have left to meet the scholars of the world?" As he was filled with regret and remorse, Lang Xiucai suddenly arrived and asked, "You have achieved the high rank you desired, so why are you so dejected?" Jia Fengzhi replied, "I have just been thinking that writing such things is like using a golden basin and jade bowl to hold dog excrement; I truly have no face to go out and see my fellow scholars. I intend to retreat into the mountains and forests, forever cut off from the mortal world." Lang Xiucai said, "That is a noble aspiration, but I fear you may not be able to carry it out. If you truly can do so, I can introduce you to someone who will grant you eternal life. In that case, even leaving a name for a thousand years is not worth coveting, let alone a fleeting wealth and honor!" Jia Fengzhi was delighted and kept Lang Xiucai overnight, saying, "Let me think it over further." By dawn, he said to Lang Xiucai, "I have made up my mind!" Without telling his wife, he then drifted away with Lang Xiucai.
The two men gradually made their way deep into the mountains until they came upon a cave dwelling, within which there was a world apart. An old man sat in the hall, and Scholar Lang bade Jia Fengzhi step forward to pay his respects, addressing the old man as Master. The old man asked, "Why have you come so early?" Scholar Lang replied, "This man's resolve to pursue the Way is already firm; I beseech you, Master, to accept him as a disciple." The old man said, "Since you have come, you must cast aside all thought of your own person; only then can you attain the Way." Jia Fengzhi humbly and cautiously agreed. Scholar Lang escorted him to a courtyard, arranged his lodgings, and provided him with some food before taking his leave. Jia Fengzhi looked around and saw that the room was indeed refined and tidy, but the door had no panel, the window had no lattice; there was only a small table and a bed. He removed his shoes and climbed onto the bed, and the moonlight streamed in. Feeling somewhat hungry, he took some of the refreshments and ate, finding them delicious and instantly filling. He thought Scholar Lang might return, so he sat for a long time, but all around was silent and still. A subtle fragrance filled the room, and his internal organs felt empty and clear, so much so that he could see the very channels of his body. Suddenly, he heard a harsh, grating sound, like a cat scratching itself. Looking out the window, he saw a tiger crouching under the eaves. Startled at first, he quickly recalled the Master's words, composed his mind, and sat upright. The tiger seemed aware of the man inside; after a while, it entered and came to the bedside, panting heavily, sniffing all over Jia Fengzhi's legs and feet. Shortly after, a commotion arose in the courtyard, as if a chicken were being bound, and the tiger immediately rushed out. Jia Fengzhi sat a while longer, and then a beautiful woman entered from outside, her fragrance overpowering. She quietly climbed onto the bed, pressed close to Jia Fengzhi's ear, and whispered, "I have come." As she spoke, the rouge on her lips gave off a rich scent. Jia Fengzhi kept his eyes closed and did not move. The woman whispered again, "Are you asleep?" Her voice sounded very much like his wife's, and his heart stirred, but he thought, "This is all the Master testing me with illusions." So he kept his eyes shut. The woman laughed and said, "The little mouse has stirred!" For when Jia Fengzhi and his wife shared a room with a maidservant, they feared being overheard during intimacy, so they had a private signal: "The little mouse has stirred, then we may proceed." Thus, hearing these words, Jia Fengzhi's heart was greatly moved; he opened his eyes and looked intently—it was indeed his wife. He asked, "How did you come here?" His wife replied, "Scholar Lang feared you might be lonely and wish to return home, so he sent an old woman to lead me here." As she spoke, she leaned against Jia Fengzhi's bosom, showing a hint of reproach because he had left without telling her. Jia Fengzhi comforted her for a long time, and then they laughed and frolicked together. When their joy was spent, dawn was nearly breaking, and they heard the old man's scolding voice gradually approaching the courtyard. His wife hastily rose, but finding no place to hide, she climbed over the low wall and departed. Soon after, Scholar Lang followed the old man into the courtyard. The old man, in Jia Fengzhi's presence, struck Scholar Lang with his staff and ordered him to drive the guest away. Scholar Lang had no choice but to lead Jia Fengzhi out through the low wall, saying to him, "I set my expectations for you too high, and was rash and impatient; I did not expect your karmic ties were not yet severed, and I have been implicated and punished. You must go now; one day in the future, we shall meet again." With that, he pointed out the way back, clasped his hands in farewell, and departed.
Jia Fengzhi lowered his head to look at his own village, still visible before him, and thought to himself that his wife, being frail and slow, must still be on the road. He hurried on for more than a li, only to find himself at his own doorstep, but the walls of the house were in ruins, the former scene entirely vanished, and among the old and young in the village, not a single face was familiar, which filled him with fear and astonishment. Suddenly, he recalled the story of Liu Chen and Ruan Zhao of the Eastern Han dynasty, who encountered immortals on Mount Tiantai and later returned to their hometown, a scene quite similar to his own. He dared not enter the house and sat down to rest before the house across the street. After sitting for a long while, an old man emerged, leaning on a staff. Jia Fengzhi bowed to him and asked, "Where is the home of Jia Fengzhi?" The old man pointed to his house and said, "This is it. You must be asking about this strange affair as well? I know all about it. It is said that this Master Jia vanished after learning he had passed the provincial examination, and when he left, his son was only seven or eight years old. Later, when the son grew to fourteen or fifteen, his mother suddenly fell into a deep sleep and never woke. While the son lived, he changed her clothes regardless of heat or cold. After the son died, the two grandsons were very poor, and the house fell into disrepair, so they covered her with a wooden frame and straw. A month ago, the old lady suddenly awoke, and counting on her fingers, it had been over a hundred years. People from near and far, hearing of this marvel, came to visit and inquire, though recently the number has dwindled." Jia Fengzhi suddenly understood and said, "Old sir, you do not recognize Jia Fengzhi, but I am he." The old man was greatly startled and hurried to the Jia house to report the news. By then, the eldest grandson had already died, and the second grandson, Jia Xiang, was over fifty years old. Because Jia Fengzhi appeared young, they suspected a trick. After a while, Jia Fengzhi's wife came out and recognized her husband. The couple wept bitterly, calling to each other as they entered the house. But they suffered from having no proper dwelling and had to temporarily stay in the grandson's house. The entire household, men and women, young and old, all came running to see them, a great crowd surrounding them, all great-grandsons and great-great-grandsons, coarse and unlearned in appearance. The eldest grandson's wife, Wu, brought wine and prepared some coarse food to entertain them, and had her youngest son, Jia Gao, and his wife move in with her, clearing out a room and sweeping it clean for the great-grandfather and great-grandmother to live in. When Jia Fengzhi entered the room, he found it filled with smoke and dust, mixed with the stench of children's urine, a foul odor assailing his nose. After only a few days, he was filled with regret and could hardly bear it. The couple's meals were provided in turn by the two grandsons, but the cooking was especially poor. The villagers, because Jia Fengzhi had just returned, invited him daily for wine and food, but his wife often went without a full meal. The eldest grandson's wife, Wu, came from a scholarly family and understood the propriety of serving her elders, always providing well and never slacking. But Jia Xiang's household grew increasingly stingy, sometimes even shouting at them when giving food. Jia Fengzhi was greatly angered and left with his wife to teach in the eastern village. He often said to his wife, "I deeply regret this return, but it is too late to repent. Forced by circumstances, I must take up my old trade again; if I do not feel shame or disgrace, wealth and rank are not hard to attain." After a little over a year, Wu still occasionally sent food, but Jia Xiang and his son never came to see them again.
That year, Jia Fengzhi passed the imperial examination and entered the county school. The magistrate greatly admired his essays and bestowed upon him a considerable sum of money, thus his family's circumstances became somewhat more prosperous. Jia Xiang gradually began to ingratiate himself. Jia Fengzhi summoned him inside, calculated the expenses he had incurred in supporting him in previous years, took out silver to repay him, and sternly ordered him never to set foot in his house again. He then purchased a new residence and brought Lady Wu to live with him. Lady Wu had two sons; the elder remained to guard the original family estate, while the younger, Jia Gao, was very intelligent, so Jia Fengzhi allowed him to study alongside his own students. After returning from the mountains, Jia Fengzhi saw worldly affairs with even greater clarity. Soon, he passed one examination after another and successfully attained the rank of presented scholar. A few years later, he was appointed as an imperial censor to tour the two Zhejiang regions, his reputation resplendent, with song and dance and lofty pavilions, for a time hailed as a grand spectacle. Jia Fengzhi was upright in character and unafraid to offend the powerful; many high officials at court sought opportunities to slander him. He repeatedly submitted memorials requesting to resign and return to his hometown, but the emperor would not consent. Before long, disaster struck. It turned out that Jia Xiang's six sons were all scoundrels. Although Jia Fengzhi had long severed ties with them, they exploited his name to bully others, forcibly seizing fields and houses, and the villagers regarded them as a plague. In the village, a certain Yi married a new bride, and Jia Xiang's second son forcibly took her as a concubine. This Yi was originally a cunning and deceitful man; the villagers contributed money to help him file a lawsuit, and the matter reached the capital. The high officials at court submitted memorials attacking Jia Fengzhi one after another. He could not defend himself and was thrown into prison for a year. Jia Xiang and his second son both died of illness in prison, and Jia Fengzhi was sentenced to exile in Liaoyang. By then, Jia Gao had been a student for a long time, was very benevolent, and had a good reputation. Jia Fengzhi's wife had given birth to a son, now sixteen years old, so they entrusted the son to Jia Gao's care and set out with one male servant and one maidservant. Jia Fengzhi said, "More than ten years of wealth and honor are not as long as a single dream. Now I realize that so-called places of glory and splendor are all realms of hell. I truly regret this return home; compared to Liu Chen and Ruan Zhao, I have incurred an additional layer of sin."
A few days later, they reached the seashore, where from afar they spied a great vessel approaching, with drums and music resounding in splendor, and its attendants all appearing like celestial beings. As the ship drew near, a man emerged from the cabin, smilingly inviting Jia Fengzhi to come aboard and rest awhile. The moment Jia Fengzhi saw this man, he was filled with immense surprise and joy, and with a single leap he bounded onto the ship, while the escorting constables dared not hinder him. Lady Jia hastily sought to follow, but the vessel had already sailed far off, so in her fury and despair she plunged into the sea. As she drifted a few steps in the water, a person from the great ship lowered a length of white silk and rescued her aboard. The escorting constables urgently ordered the boatmen to row in pursuit, shouting as they gave chase, but they heard only the thunderous sound of drums, echoing in harmony with the roaring waves, and in the blink of an eye, the ship vanished without a trace. Jia Fengzhi's servant recognized the man on the vessel—it was none other than Scholar Lang.
The Chronicler of the Strange remarks: The world tells of Chen Dashi, who, after completing his examination essay in the examination hall, recited it several times and sighed, saying, 'Such an essay—who could appreciate it!' With these words, he cast aside the essay and composed another. Thus, his writings in the examination hall were inferior to his usual compositions. Jia Fengzhi, feeling ashamed of the essay he wrote in the examination hall, fled, which shows he possessed the bones of an immortal. Yet, when he returned to the mortal world, he was forced to humble himself for the sake of livelihood—how grievously poverty and lowliness can wound a man!
Commentary
Jia Fengzhi, dissatisfied with the topsy-turvy nature of the imperial examination system where right was wronged and wrong made right, left his home in a fit of indignation to become a recluse; this can be seen as a satirical critique of the examination system rendered in the form of a tale.
This chapter can be divided into two parts: although the latter part occupies a longer length and is more attuned to human emotions, including Jia Fengzhi's failed trials after becoming a monk in the mountains, his return to the mortal world where he finds everything changed and his descendants in dire straits, his reluctant return to the old profession of taking the imperial examinations to gain official rank, his experience of dazzling fame in officialdom, his banishment to the Liao Yang army, his renewed awakening with the lament that 'the realm of glory is all a realm of hell,' and his journey with his wife into the sea to reach the immortal realm, these plot points seem to have shadows of related narratives in Six Dynasties tales and Tang dynasty romances, such as 'Liu Chen and Ruan Zhao in the Records of the Dark Realm,' 'Du Zichun,' 'The Tale of the Pillow,' and 'The Story of Liu Yi.' However, the first part, which describes the talented scholar Jia Fengzhi taking the imperial examinations with exquisite essays but repeatedly failing, and then, in jest, collecting the most vulgar, redundant, and unspeakable phrases from discarded papers to piece together an essay, only to unexpectedly win the top prize, comes from Pu Songling's original creation. With a pen of mockery and rage, it reveals the deep-seated harm the examination system inflicted on culture and literati, making it the most essential and brilliant part of the work.
During the Ming and Qing dynasties, the imperial examination system served as the nation's cultural compass, directly shaping the cultural development of that era. Jia Fengzhi's experiences stand as a poignant emblem of the spiritual torment endured by scholars of the time. His retreat into immortality, subsequent attainment of the jinshi degree, and rise to high office were all but impractical romantic fantasies; most literati, as described in the tale "Wang Zi'an," found themselves "with days growing distant, temper gradually calming, yet skill again itching, like a broken egg's dove, forced to gather wood and build a nest, starting anew to hatch." The Historian of the Strange remarks: "Thus returning to the mortal world, he debased himself for the sake of food and drink; how deeply poverty and lowliness can afflict a man!" This was Pu Songling's own heartfelt realization, a painful choice that most intellectuals, confronting reality, could not avoid.