Original Text
In Jingzhou there was a man named Peng Haoshi who, returning from a drinking party at a friend's home, dismounted to relieve himself while his horse grazed by the roadside. There was a patch of fine grass, delicate and soft, most lovely to behold, with newly opened yellow flowers so bright and dazzling that they caught the eye, but the horse had already eaten more than half of it. Peng Haoshi pulled up the remaining grass, sniffed it, and found an extraordinary fragrance, so he tucked it into his bosom. Mounting his horse again, he continued on his way, and the horse galloped swiftly forward, bringing him such great pleasure that he had no desire to return home, letting the horse run as it pleased.
Suddenly, he noticed that the sun had already set, so he reined in his horse and prepared to return home. But as he gazed at the tangled thickets and chaotic mountains before him, he had no idea where this place was. A figure in blue clothing approached, seeing that Peng Haoshi's horse was still neighing, and took hold of the bridle on his behalf, saying, "It is nearly dark; my master invites you to stay the night." Peng Haoshi asked, "What place is this?" The man replied, "Langzhong in Sichuan." Peng Haoshi was greatly startled, realizing that in the span of half a day he had traveled over a thousand li. He then asked, "Who is your master?" The man said, "When you arrive, you will naturally know." Peng Haoshi inquired further, "Where is it?" The man answered, "Not far." With that, he took hold of Peng Haoshi's horse's bit and sped forward, both man and steed moving as if flying. Crossing a mountain peak, they saw halfway up a grand mansion with layered roofs and screens interspersed. From a distance, a crowd of people appeared to be standing there, as if awaiting someone. Peng Haoshi approached the assembly, dismounted, and made a bow with clasped hands. Shortly after, the master emerged, his bearing fierce and majestic, his headdress and garments unlike those of the mortal world. He saluted the guests with a bow and said, "Among today's visitors, none has traveled a farther road than Mr. Peng." Then, he made a deep bow to Peng Haoshi and invited him to go first. Peng Haoshi hastily declined, unwilling to precede the others. The master seized his arm and led him along. Peng Haoshi felt as if the place where he was gripped was clamped in fetters, the pain so intense it seemed his bones would break, so he dared not argue further and obediently proceeded. The remaining guests still tried to yield to one another, but the master either pushed or pulled them, and they all groaned and fell to the ground, as if unable to bear it, and had no choice but to follow the master's orders and enter the hall one by one.
The crowd entered the great hall, where the furnishings were exceedingly splendid and dazzling to the eye. Two guests sat at a table, and Peng Haoshi quietly asked his table companion, "Who is the host?" The guest replied, "He is Zhang Huanhou, Zhang Fei." Peng Haoshi was utterly astonished, so frightened that he dared not even cough. A profound silence fell over the banquet. When the feast began, Zhang Huanhou said, "Each year I trouble my relatives and friends, but today I have specially prepared several tables of wine as a small token of my regard. It is also fortunate that a guest from afar has graced us with his presence. I have a private request, though it may seem presumptuous; if you feel any reluctance, I shall not force you." Peng Haoshi rose and asked, "What is it?" Huanhou replied, "Your steed already possesses an immortal bone, not meant for mortal hands to command. I intend to purchase a horse in exchange for yours; what say you?" Peng Haoshi said, "I would rather present it to you as a gift, and dare not think of barter." Huanhou said, "I must give you a fine horse in return, and also ten thousand taels of silver." Peng Haoshi immediately left his seat, prostrated himself on the ground, and offered thanks. Huanhou ordered his attendants to help him rise. After a while, dishes and wine were brought forth in succession, and they drank until the sun set. Huanhou commanded that lamps and candles be lit, and the guests took their leave. Peng Haoshi also bid Huanhou farewell. Huanhou said, "Sir, you have come from afar; where will you return to?" Peng Haoshi looked at his table companion and said, "I have already agreed with this gentleman to lodge at his home for the night." Huanhou then toasted each guest with a large cup, and said to Peng Haoshi, "The fragrant herb in your bosom, when fresh, can be taken to become an immortal; when withered, it can transmute gold and silver. With seven stalks, you can turn ten thousand taels of silver." With that, he ordered a servant to bring forth the method of transmutation and gave it to Peng Haoshi, who bowed again in thanks. Huanhou said, "Tomorrow, go to the market and choose any fine horse from among the herd; do not haggle with the horse trader over the price, for I shall pay him myself." He then turned to the crowd and said, "Our guest from afar is returning home; I ask you all to contribute a little toward his travel expenses." The guests all assented in unison. After the wine was finished, they thanked Huanhou and departed. On the way, Peng Haoshi finally asked the names of the others, learning that his table companion was called Liu Zihui. They walked together for two or three li, crossed a ridge, and saw a village before them. The guests accompanied Peng Haoshi to Liu's home, where they recounted the marvels of the day.
In former times, the village held a sacrificial festival at the Temple of Lord Huan every year, slaughtering livestock and hiring theatrical troupes, which gradually became a custom, and Liu Zihui was the one who initiated these activities. Three days prior, the festival had just concluded. At noon that day, one person from each household was invited to cross the mountain. When asked about the matter, the messenger was evasive, only urging them with great urgency. After crossing the mountain, the crowd saw pavilions and towers and were filled with shock and doubt. As they approached the gate, the messenger finally told them the truth, and none dared to retreat. The messenger said, "Wait here for a moment; an honored guest from afar will arrive shortly." It turned out that the distant guest was Peng Haoshi. The crowd recounted the strangeness of this affair. Those whose hands had been grasped by Lord Huan all felt pain in their arms; when they bared their skin under the lamp, they found the flesh had turned blue and purple. Peng Haoshi examined himself and found the same. The crowd dispersed, and Liu Zihui brought bedding for Peng Haoshi to rest. At dawn the next day, the villagers vied to invite Peng Haoshi to their homes as guests, and accompanied him to the market to look at horses. Over ten days, they examined more than a dozen horses but found not a single fine one, and Peng Haoshi considered settling for a mediocre choice. That day, they returned to the market and saw a horse whose bone structure seemed promising; when Peng Haoshi mounted and tried it, it proved incomparably spirited and swift. He rode the horse straight back to the village, waiting for the seller to come, but the man never appeared; when he went back to the market to search, the seller had already left. Peng Haoshi then bid farewell to the villagers and prepared to return home. The villagers provided him with travel funds, and he set off on his journey. The horse could cover five hundred li in a day. When he reached home and recounted his experiences, no one believed him. Peng Haoshi took out products from Shu from his bag, and only then did everyone find it strange. The fragrant herbs in Peng Haoshi's bosom had long withered; when he took them out, there were exactly seven stalks. Following the formula Lord Huan had taught him, he transformed them, and his household suddenly became immensely wealthy. Peng Haoshi then went to the place he had visited before, offered sacrifices at the Temple of Lord Huan, and had a three-day theatrical performance before returning home.
The Chronicler of Strange Tales remarks: After reading the story of Lord Huanhou feasting his guests, one would come to believe that the tale of the Lord of Mount Wuyi entertaining the villagers atop the mountain peak is not entirely absurd. Yet, when a host invites guests and nearly breaks the arms of those he holds dear, it becomes evident how astonishing his original strength and valor must have been.
Wu Muxin once recounted a tale: "There was a scholar named Li, whose lips could not cover his protruding front teeth, which extended outward more than an inch. One day, he attended a banquet with friends at a certain place, where two guests fiercely argued over the precedence of seating, each insisting the other take the higher seat. One pulled the other forward, while the other strenuously retreated. In the struggle, their arms gave way, and Li, standing directly behind them, received a sharp blow from an elbow to his teeth, knocking out his two front teeth, and blood gushed forth instantly. The crowd was greatly startled, and only then did the dispute subside." This incident, akin to the Marquis Huan's grip nearly breaking a guest's arm, can be regarded as a tale of the same absurd sort.
Commentary
The historical figure Zhang Fei occupies a special place in Pu Songling's heart. In the "Quick Tune" section of his "Liaozhai Folk Songs," Pu Songling has Zhang Fei slay his most detested historical figure, Cao Cao, with a single spear thrust, "avenging a thousand years of grievance in one blow." In "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio," Zhang Fei appears twice: once in this tale, and again in the ninth volume's "Yu Qu'e," where it is said: "Marquis Huan, Zhang Yide, patrols the underworld once every thirty years and the mortal realm once every thirty-five years, so that all injustices between heaven and earth may be dispelled by this old man." This shows Pu Songling's great fondness for this character. What did he admire about him? Likely his uprightness, his forthrightness, and the genuine nature that scholars so often lack.
This story uses Zhang Fei's banquet to satirize the excessive modesty and yielding in traditional Chinese culture. As the commentator Dan Minglun remarked: "Yielding is a virtue, yet it must have its limits. Thus, the ritual of bowing and yielding is performed no more than three times. How much more so when serving an elder, there is no reason to insist on taking the role of a guest. Often at a feast, one sees such rigid formality that it becomes tiresome. Though intended as deference, it appears as contention, with both parties holding fast for hours without resolution. At such a moment, one regrets that they did not encounter the Marquis Huan."
Although in this sense the tale is allegorical in nature, the story is written in an amusing and varied manner. It begins with Peng Haoshi's horse consuming a magical herb, then describes Zhang Fei hosting a banquet to acquire the horse, and during the feast, Zhang Fei nearly causes Peng Haoshi to "break his arm" from excessive courtesy. Through this narrative, the reader finds delight, and within that delight, the author conveys his counsel against excessive formalities.