Original Text
In Anqing there lived a scholar surnamed Dai, who in his youth was given to dissolute conduct and paid no heed to propriety. One day, having drunk heavily elsewhere, he was returning home when he encountered his deceased cousin, Ji Sheng. In his drunken stupor, his eyes blurred, he forgot that his cousin had died and asked, "Where have you been all this time?" Ji Sheng replied, "I have already passed into the underworld—have you forgotten?" Only then did Dai realize the truth, but in his intoxication he felt no fear and inquired, "What do you do in the underworld?" Ji Sheng answered, "Recently I have been serving under the King of Reincarnation, keeping the registers." Dai said, "Then you must know all the fortunes and misfortunes of the mortal world?" Ji Sheng replied, "That is my duty; how could I not know? Yet the records are vast, and unless one is close to my heart, I cannot recall everything. Three years ago, I happened to examine the register and saw your name." Dai hastily asked what was written there. Ji Sheng said, "I dare not deceive you—your name is already listed in the Dark Prison." Dai was greatly terrified, his drunkenness vanished, and he earnestly begged Ji Sheng to save him. Ji Sheng said, "This is not something I can accomplish through my own efforts; only by accumulating good deeds can it be changed. But your sins are already full; without great acts of virtue, there is no way to reverse it. Yet what power does a poor scholar possess? Even if you performed one good deed every day, it would take over a year to offset your transgressions, and now it is too late. However, if from this moment you earnestly practice good deeds, even if you enter the prison, there may yet be a day of release." Upon hearing this, Dai wept bitterly, prostrated himself on the ground, and pleaded desperately with his cousin. When he lifted his head, Ji Sheng had vanished without a trace. Dejected and disheartened, Dai returned home. From that day forward, he reformed his heart, thoroughly mended his ways, and dared not commit the slightest error again.
Previously, Scholar Dai had an illicit affair with a neighbor's wife. The neighbor, having heard of this, did not make it public but sought an opportunity to catch him in the act. However, ever since Dai reformed himself, he had permanently severed ties with the woman, leaving the neighbor with no chance to seize him, which filled him with bitter resentment. One day, Dai and the neighbor met in the fields. The neighbor feigned conversation, lured him to look into an abandoned well, and then pushed him in. The well was several fathoms deep, and the neighbor assumed Dai would surely die. But Dai regained consciousness at midnight, sat in the well, and wept loudly, though no one heard him. Fearing Dai might survive, the neighbor returned the next day to listen for sounds. Hearing his cries, he hastily threw stones into the well. Dai hid in a cavity at the bottom and dared not make another sound. Knowing Dai was still alive, the neighbor began filling the well with earth, nearly leveling it. The cavity was pitch black, truly no different from the underworld. Empty and without food, Dai reckoned he could not last long. He crawled forward, but beyond three paces lay water, impassable, so he returned to his original spot. At first, he felt hunger, but after a long while, he forgot it. He then thought that underground there was no good deed to perform, only to keep reciting the Buddha's name. Soon, he saw floating will-o'-the-wisps, flickering with phosphorescent light, drifting throughout the cavity. He prayed, "I have heard that will-o'-the-wisps are wronged ghosts. Though I still live for now, I fear I cannot return to the world of men. If you could converse with me, it might comfort my lonely heart." The wisps gradually drifted over the water, each containing a figure only half the height of a normal person. Dai asked whence they came. The wisps replied, "This well is an ancient coal pit. When the owner dug for coal, he disturbed an old tomb, and Lord Dragon Flying brought the sea's waters from the underworld, drowning forty-three people in an instant. We are all ghosts." Dai asked, "Who is Lord Dragon Flying?" The wisps answered, "We do not know. The lord is a scholar, now a secretary to the City God. He pities our innocent deaths and bestows porridge on us every three to five days. We suffer daily from the cold water soaking our bones, with no hope of escaping this sea of suffering. If you can return to the world of men, please gather our scattered bones and bury them together in a communal grave—that would be our greatest boon." Dai said, "If by chance I can return to the world, this deed would not be difficult. But I am now in the Nine Springs; how dare I hope to see the sun again?" He then taught the ghosts to recite the Buddha's name, counting coal nuggets as prayer beads to mark the number of recitations. Thus, Dai lost track of time, sleeping when weary and sitting upright when awake. Suddenly, a lantern appeared deep in the cavity, and the ghosts joyfully said, "Lord Dragon Flying has come to bestow food!" They invited Dai to join them. Fearing the water would block his way, the ghosts forcibly pulled him forward. Dai felt as if he were floating, his feet not touching the ground. After winding half a li, they arrived at a place. The ghosts set Dai down and let him walk on his own. He stepped forward as if ascending a high staircase. At the top appeared houses and corridors, and in the hall burned candles as thick as a man's arm. Having long been without light, Dai was overjoyed and hurried forward. In the hall sat an old man in Confucian robes and cap. Dai halted, not daring to approach. The old man, seeing him, asked in surprise, "Where does this living man come from?" Dai stepped forward, knelt, and recounted his story. The old man said, "So you are my descendant!" He then bade him rise and offered him a seat. The old man introduced himself, "My name is Dai Qian, styled Dragon Flying. In the past, because of my unworthy descendant Dai Tang, who colluded with ruffians to dig a well near my tomb, disturbing my rest in the night chamber, I brought the sea's waters to flood the pit. Now, how fares his line?" It turned out that the Dai family's near kin had five branches, with Dai Tang being the eldest.
At first, a wealthy family in the county bribed Dai Tang to dig a coal mine beside the ancestral graves of the Dai clan. The brothers, fearing his power, dared not argue. Soon, underground water suddenly burst forth, drowning all the miners in the pit. The families of the deceased filed lawsuits one after another, and both Dai Tang and the wealthy family were thus impoverished, leaving Dai Tang's descendants without a foothold. Scholar Dai, a descendant of Dai Tang's younger brother, had heard of this from his elders and told the old man. The old man said, "With such unfilial descendants, how could his progeny prosper! Since you have come here, you must not neglect your studies." With that, he brought out wine and food for him to eat. After the meal, he placed some books on the table, all eight-legged essays from the Chenghua and Hongzhi eras, and forced Scholar Dai to study them. He also set essay topics for him, like a teacher instructing a pupil. The candles in the hall burned continuously, never needing trimming, and their flames never died. When Scholar Dai grew weary, he would sleep, losing track of day and night. Sometimes the old man went out, leaving a young servant to attend to him. Thus passed several years, fortunately without much hardship. But there were no other books to read, only about a hundred eight-legged essays, each of which he read over four thousand times. One day, the old man said to Scholar Dai, "Child, the retribution for your sins is complete, and you should return to the mortal world. My grave is near the coal pit, where the yin wind chills to the bone. When you achieve success, move my tomb to the eastern plain." Scholar Dai respectfully agreed. The old man then summoned the ghosts and ordered them to send Scholar Dai back to the place where he had originally sat. The ghosts surrounded the old man and bowed, and he gave them repeated instructions, but Scholar Dai had no idea how he would get out.
Before this, after Dai Sheng disappeared, his family searched everywhere but could not find him. His mother reported the matter to the authorities, and the county magistrate arrested several suspects, yet still uncovered no clues. After three or four years, the magistrate left his post, and the search gradually slackened. Dai Sheng's wife, lacking chastity at home, was sent away in marriage by the Dai family. It happened that the villagers were repairing an old well, and when they descended into the pit, they discovered Dai Sheng. Upon touching him, they found he was not dead. Greatly startled, they hurried to his home to report the news. Dai Sheng was carried back, and after a day, he began to recount his experiences underground. Since Dai Sheng was pushed into the well by his neighbor, the neighbor had beaten his own wife to death, and his father-in-law sued him. The officials interrogated and tried him for over a year, reducing the man to skin and bones before releasing him. Hearing that Dai Sheng had returned from the dead, the neighbor was terrified and fled. The Dai clan discussed pursuing the neighbor's crime, but Dai Sheng disagreed, saying that his earlier suffering was indeed his own fault, and the torment in the well was a punishment from the underworld, unrelated to the neighbor. Seeing that Dai Sheng truly bore no grudge, the neighbor hesitantly returned home. After the well dried up, Dai Sheng hired men to enter the pit and gather the scattered bones of the ghosts, arranging them according to their forms, buying coffins, finding a place, and burying them together in a single grave. He then examined the family genealogy and found an ancestor named Dai Qian, styled Longfei, so he prepared offerings and paid homage at Lord Longfei's tomb. The local academic commissioner, hearing of this strange affair and admiring Dai Sheng's essays, selected him as an excellent candidate for the provincial examination, and Dai Sheng subsequently passed and became a provincial graduate. Returning home, Dai Sheng built a tomb at Dongyuan, moved Lord Longfei's remains there, and gave him a generous burial, visiting the grave every spring and autumn without fail.
The Chronicler of Strange Tales remarks: In my hometown, there were men digging for coal when the tunnel was flooded, and over a dozen people were trapped within. Those outside sought to drain the water to retrieve the bodies, and after more than two months, the water was finally exhausted, only to find that not a single one of the trapped men had perished. It turned out that when the waters surged, they all swam to higher ground within the cave and were not submerged. When they were pulled up with ropes, these men fainted upon exposure to the wind and only gradually revived after a full day and night. From this, it can be seen that when people are underground, they are like snakes or birds in hibernation, and in a sudden crisis, they do not die easily. Yet I have never heard of anyone surviving for years without perishing. If not for a heart of utmost goodness, how could anyone remain alive through three years of hellish existence!
Commentary
The work indicates that the story takes place in Anqing, but from the commentary of the Historian of the Strange, it is evident that the author adapted it based on actual events from his hometown, skillfully transplanting and grafting them.
On the surface, this tale appears to be a stale narrative concerning geomancy and superstition, yet it stands as the most richly detailed reflection of coal mine information in ancient Chinese literature, offering a glimpse into folk explanations for the flooding of ancient coal pits, revealing the civil litigation pathways for resolving deaths of coal mine workers in those days, and supplementing the deficiencies in Ming and Qing industrial historical records.
Interestingly, during the years Dai Sheng of Anqing was confined in a coal mine, he had no other books to read except for a hundred pieces of examination essays, each of which he read over four thousand times. These essays were all from the Cheng and Hong eras, and upon returning to the mortal world, he entered the provincial examination with top honors and succeeded in the rural examination. This detail not only clarifies the timing of the old man's complaint that 'formerly, my unworthy grandson Sun Tang, in league with a band of ruffians, dug a well near my grave, disturbing my peace in the night chamber, so I flooded it with seawater,' but also, when compared to the story 'The Scholar of Literature' in Volume Eight, where it is said: 'First, burn an ancient master's essay to test it; the monk sniffed again and said, "Marvelous! This essay I accept in my heart; who but Gui and Hu could have composed this!"' it further suggests Pu Songling's admiration and esteem for the eight-legged essays of the Ming Dynasty.