Original Text
In Baoding there was a student of the Imperial Academy who wished to go to the capital and purchase an official post, seeking to become a county magistrate. As he was packing his belongings, he suddenly fell ill and could not rise from his bed for over a month. One day, a young servant rushed in to report, "A guest has arrived." The student, forgetting his illness, hurried out to welcome the visitor. The guest was dressed in splendid garments and appeared to be a man of rank. The student bowed respectfully, invited him inside, and asked whence he came. The guest replied, "My name is Gongsun Xia, and I am a retainer of the Eleventh Prince. I hear you are preparing to go to the capital to purchase a county post. Since you have such ambition, why not aim for a prefectural governorship instead?" The student thanked him politely for his kindness but said, "My funds are limited; I dare not entertain such lofty hopes." Gongsun Xia offered to assist him, suggesting that half the sum be paid upfront and the remainder upon taking office. Delighted, the student asked how this could be arranged. Gongsun Xia said, "The governor and the inspector-general are both close friends of mine. If you can first produce five thousand strings of cash, the matter will be settled. At present, the prefecture of Zhending lacks a magistrate, and we can secure that post immediately." The student was astonished, pointing out that Zhending was within his own province and that, by regulation, a native could not serve as an official in his home province. Gongsun Xia laughed and said, "How pedantic you are! As long as you have money, who cares whether you are a native or an outsider?" The student remained hesitant, suspecting the proposal was absurd. Gongsun Xia said, "Do not doubt me. To tell you the truth, this is a vacancy for the City God in the underworld. Your allotted lifespan has ended, and your name is already recorded in the Book of Death. Seize this opportunity to make arrangements quickly, and you may yet enjoy wealth and honor in the netherworld." With these words, he rose to take his leave, adding, "Consider it well; I will return in three days." Then he mounted his horse and rode away. The student suddenly opened his eyes and bid farewell to his wife. He ordered her to take out the family's savings and buy ten thousand strings of paper money, exhausting the entire supply in the county. He piled the paper money in the courtyard, mingling it with straw figures and paper horses, and burned them day and night until the ashes rose like a small hill. On the third day, Gongsun Xia arrived as promised. The student handed over the money, and Gongsun Xia led him to an official mansion, where a high-ranking official sat solemnly in the hall. The student knelt and bowed. The official briefly inquired his name and then exhorted him to be incorruptible and prudent in office. He then took out a letter of appointment, summoned the student to the table, and handed it to him.
After completing the ceremony, the scholar left the official residence. He thought to himself that in the mortal world he had been a humble student at the Imperial Academy, and if he did not flaunt his carriages and robes, he could not awe his subordinates. So he lavishly purchased carriages and horses, and sent ghostly attendants to fetch his beautiful concubine in a colorful carriage. Once all this was done, the ceremonial procession from Zhending Prefecture had already arrived. The scholar then ordered the departure, and the grand procession stretched over a mile, bustling endlessly along the road, filling him with immense pride. Suddenly, the vanguard halted their drums and music and lowered their banners. Startled and puzzled, the scholar saw the riders dismount one by one, all prostrating by the roadside; the men shrank to about a foot in height, and the horses became as small as wildcats. The carriage driver cried out in terror, "The Lord Guan is coming!" Frightened, the scholar also descended and lay prostrate on the ground. From afar, he saw the Lord Guan, accompanied by four or five mounted attendants, riding slowly toward him. The Lord Guan's beard was mostly coiled around his cheeks, unlike the flowing long beard depicted in worldly paintings, but his demeanor was radiant and awe-inspiring, his eyes so long they nearly reached his ears. Seated on his horse, the Lord Guan asked, "What official is this?" The attendants replied, "He is the Prefect of Zhending." The Lord Guan said, "A mere prefect—how dare he be so arrogant!" Hearing this, the scholar was terrified, his hair standing on end with fear, and his body suddenly shrank; looking down, he saw himself reduced to the size of a six- or seven-year-old child. The Lord Guan ordered him to stand and follow behind the horse. By the roadside stood a hall; the Lord Guan entered, sat facing south, and had paper and brush handed to the scholar, commanding him to write his place of origin and name. After writing, the scholar presented it. The Lord Guan read it and said angrily, "The characters are utterly misshapen! Such a vulgar fellow—how can he be fit to serve as a parent-official to the people?" He then ordered an attendant to examine his record of virtue. A man knelt and reported, but what he said was unclear. The Lord Guan thundered, "The desire for office is a minor offense, but buying and selling official posts is a grave crime!" Soon, a golden-armored deity appeared with chains. Then two men seized the scholar, stripped him of his official robes, and gave him fifty strokes of the rod, nearly splitting the flesh of his buttocks, before driving him out the door. Looking around, the scholar saw that the carriages and horses had vanished; unable to walk from the pain, he could only lie in the grass to rest.
The scholar carefully examined the place and found it was not far from home. Fortunately, his body was as light as a leaf, and within a day and night he had returned. He suddenly woke up, lying in bed groaning. His family gathered around to ask what had happened, and he only said that his thigh hurt. It turned out that he had been in a daze, as if dead, for seven days, and only now had he regained consciousness. He then asked, "Why has A'lian not come?" A'lian was the name of his beloved concubine. It happened that on that day, A'lian was sitting chatting with someone when she suddenly said, "He has become the prefect of Zhending and has sent someone to fetch me." After saying this, she went to her room to dress and adorn herself, and as soon as she finished, she died, which was but the affair of the previous night. When the family finished recounting this, they all found it strange. The scholar was filled with regret and remorse, beating his chest and stamping his feet, and ordered that A'lian's body be kept at home without burial, hoping she might revive. After a few days, there was still no sign of life from A'lian, so they had to bury her. The scholar's illness gradually improved, but the sore on his leg grew worse, and he lay in bed for half a year before he could rise. He often said, "All the family's wealth has been squandered, and I suffered cruel torture in the underworld—these things I could still bear, but not knowing where my beloved concubine has been taken makes the long nights unbearable!"
The Chronicler of Strange Tales remarks: Alas! Vulgar market-minded men are inherently unworthy of officialdom! Since even the underworld has its backdoor dealings, I fear that even the hoofprints of Lord Guan's steed may be hard to trace; those who wield power and flaunt their authority are truly beyond counting in their punishable offenses. My fellow townsman, Mr. Guo Huaye, is said to have once handled a similar matter, and he might well be called a god among men. Mr. Guo, favored by the emperor for his incorruptible and upright character, was reappointed as the Governor-General of Huguang. His luggage was exceedingly simple, accompanied by only four or five attendants, with his clothes and shoes worn and shabby, so much so that passersby on the road had no idea he was a high-ranking official. It happened that a newly appointed county magistrate encountered Mr. Guo on the road. The magistrate's retinue consisted of over twenty camel-drawn carts, with dozens of mounted outriders clearing the way and a hundred or more attendants following. Mr. Guo did not know what official the man was; sometimes he went ahead of them, sometimes behind, and occasionally let his own attendants mingle with the magistrate's procession. The outriders, angered by what they took as deliberate disruption, shouted and drove them away. Mr. Guo paid no heed. Soon they arrived at a large town, where both parties halted to rest. Mr. Guo then sent someone to secretly inquire into the man's background, learning that the magistrate was a student of the Imperial Academy who had purchased the post of county magistrate through bribery and was on his way to take up office in Hunan. Mr. Guo then ordered an attendant to summon the magistrate. When the magistrate heard that someone was calling for him, he was both startled and suspicious, and in turn asked about the caller's rank, only to discover it was the Governor-General of Huguang. Terrified and trembling with fear, he hastily adjusted his cap and robes, crawled forward to Mr. Guo, and prostrated himself. Mr. Guo asked, "Are you the magistrate of such-and-such a county?" The magistrate replied, "Yes." Mr. Guo said, "How can a small county support so many attendants? If you take up your post, the people of that region will surely suffer! I cannot allow you to go and harm them. You may return home at once and proceed no further." The magistrate kowtowed and said, "Your subordinate still has his letter of appointment." Mr. Guo ordered him to produce it, examined it, and said, "This is a trivial matter; I will return it on your behalf." The magistrate kowtowed and withdrew. What his state of mind was on the journey home is unknown, but Mr. Guo had already resumed his journey. That an official could be assessed before even taking up his post is indeed an unprecedented and extraordinary feat. Mr. Guo was likely a remarkable man, and thus he accomplished such a gratifying deed.
Commentary
This is a satirical tale about the buying and selling of official positions in the early Qing dynasty. Likely influenced and adapted from the true story of Guo Huaye, who, while traveling to his post, removed a boastful and ostentatious Hunan county magistrate who had purchased his office through donations, it reflects Pu Songling's indignation at the corruption within officialdom and his ideal of incorruptible officials.
The creation of certain tales in "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio" draws from real life. In this chapter's "Commentary by the Historian of the Strange," the conduct of "one who purchased an official post and journeyed to Hunan" is described as "having over twenty camel-drawn carts, several dozen outriders on horseback, and a retinue of a hundred attendants." As for Gongsun Xia, he "thought to himself that as a mere purchased student, without splendid carriages and fine raiment, he could not awe his subordinates. Thus he bought more horses and carriages, and sent ghostly servants with painted palanquins to fetch his beautiful concubine. Scarcely had he finished his arrangements when the full regalia of Zhending arrived. Along the road for over a li, they formed a continuous procession, and he was exceedingly proud." Guo Huaye harshly rebuked such purchasers of office, saying, "A mere district—how can it support such a throng of attendants? Once you take office, the entire region will be plunged into misery!" Lord Guan then declared, "A single prefecture—how is it worth such ostentation?" All these instances reveal a shared and similar lineage of thought.