Original Text
In Changshan County there was a man named Zhao who rented a dwelling from a wealthy family. He suffered from a disease of abdominal lumps, and being poor and solitary, he lay gasping, waiting for death. One day, struggling to find a cool spot, he moved to the eaves and fell asleep. When he awoke, he found a peerless beauty sitting beside him and asked her what she was doing there. The woman said, "I have come specially to be your wife." Zhao said in astonishment, "Not to mention that a poor man like me dares not harbor such vain hopes, but I am already at death's door—what use would a wife be to me?" The woman replied, "I can cure your illness." Zhao said, "My illness cannot be dispelled in an instant; even if there were a good prescription, I have no money to buy medicine—what difference would it make?" The woman said, "My treatment requires no medicine." With that, she pressed her hand on Zhao's abdomen and massaged it vigorously, and Zhao felt her palm as hot as fire. After a moment, he heard faint sounds of cracking and splitting from the hard lump in his belly. After another moment, he felt the urge to go to the privy and hurriedly rose; just a few steps later, he loosened his clothes and defecated, expelling much mucus and the lumps, and felt an immediate lightness throughout his body. He returned to his place and lay down, saying to the woman, "Madam, who are you? Please tell me your name so that I may set up a shrine for you and bow in gratitude." The woman replied, "I am a fox spirit. In your former life, you were Chu Suiliang of the Tang dynasty, and you once showed kindness to my family. I have kept it in my heart and often sought an opportunity to repay you. I have searched for you every day, and today I have finally found you—thus fulfilling my long-cherished wish." Zhao felt ashamed of his own unworthiness and feared that his thatched hut and smoky coal stove would soil her fine clothes. The woman simply asked him to lead the way home. Zhao brought her to his house, where the earthen bed had no mat and the stove was cold and unlit. Zhao said, "Not to mention that I cannot bear to see you suffer such hardship; even if you are willing, look at the empty jars—what can I use to support a wife?" The woman only said, "Do not worry." As soon as she spoke, Zhao turned his head and saw that the bed was already spread with felt mats and quilts; before he could ask, in the blink of an eye, the whole room was papered with silver-glossed paper, bright as a mirror, and all the other utensils had changed—the table was clean and fine, with wine and dishes already laid out. The two then happily drank together. At night, they slept intimately like husband and wife.
After the landlord of a certain Zhao heard of this strange affair, he requested to see the woman. The woman came out to meet him without the slightest hint of reluctance. From then on, the news spread far and wide, and many came to the door to gaze upon her. The woman did not refuse them, and when someone invited her to a feast, she always insisted on going with her husband. One day, while attending a banquet, a provincial graduate among the guests secretly harbored lewd intentions. The woman, already aware of this, suddenly rebuked him loudly, then reached out and pushed his head, so that the graduate's head was thrust out the window while his body remained inside the room, unable to move in or out or even turn around. The assembled guests then earnestly begged the woman to forgive him, and only then did she pull the graduate back in.
After more than a year had passed, the number of visitors calling upon them increased daily, and the woman grew deeply vexed. Those who were rejected would curse Zhao. When the Dragon Boat Festival arrived, they invited neighbors and friends to gather for a drinking feast. Suddenly, a white rabbit leaped in. The woman rose and said, "The Herb-Pounding Immortal has summoned me!" She then said to the rabbit, "Please go ahead." The rabbit hurried out and went straight away. The woman had Zhao fetch a ladder. He went behind the house and carried back a long ladder, several spans in height. In the courtyard stood a large tree; she leaned the ladder against it, and the ladder rose higher than the treetop. The woman ascended the ladder first, and Zhao followed behind. She turned her head and said, "If any among the relatives and friends wishes to follow, let them ascend the ladder!" The assembled guests exchanged glances, and none dared to climb, save only the landlord's young servant boy, who eagerly scrambled up behind them. They climbed higher and higher, until the ladder's end merged with the clouds, and the figures vanished from sight. When the crowd looked at the ladder, they found it to be an old, worn-out door, with its planks removed. Entering Zhao's house, they saw only the gray walls and ruined stove remaining, with nothing else. They wished to wait for the servant boy's return to ask him, but in the end, no news ever came.
Commentary
This is a Chinese folk tale bearing the distinctive characteristics of Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, or rather, a version of a Chinese folk fairy tale as rendered in the style of Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio.
Among Chinese folktales, there is a type exemplified by the story of Dong Yong and the Seventh Fairy, which tells of a diligent bachelor who gains the favor of a celestial maiden, thereby transforming his impoverished state and giving voice to the downtrodden. This tale belongs to that same category. Here, the mention that Zhao of Changshan was in a former life the scholar Chu Suiliang, and that the beautiful fairy maiden was a fox spirit, reflects Pu Songling's distinctive narrative style.