Original Text
Shi Zongyu, a jinshi from Changshan, once served as the magistrate of Xinzheng County. At that time, a traveling merchant named Zhang, who had been doing business far from home for many years, fell ill and wished to return home. Unable to ride a horse, he hired a handcart, carrying five thousand taels of silver with him, and two carters pulled and pushed the cart along the road. When they reached Xinzheng, the two carters went to buy food, while Zhang guarded the money, lying alone in the cart. A certain man named Jia passed by, secretly glimpsed the silver, and seeing no one nearby, snatched the money pouch. Zhang, too weak to resist, struggled to rise and followed Jia from afar into a village. From behind, Zhang saw Jia enter a courtyard; not daring to barge in directly, he only peeked over the low wall. Jia set down the money pouch on his back, turned to see Zhang spying, and angrily seized him, falsely accusing him of theft. He bound Zhang and brought him before Magistrate Shi, recounting the situation. Shi interrogated Zhang, who detailed his grievance. Believing the case lacked solid evidence, Shi dismissed both men with a scolding. As they left, both complained that the magistrate was indiscriminate, but Shi pretended not to hear. Suddenly recalling that Jia had long defaulted on taxes, Shi sent constables to press for payment. The next day, Jia brought three taels of silver to pay his tax. Shi asked where the money came from, and Jia replied, "From pawning clothes and selling belongings," listing items to prove it. Shi ordered a clerk to check if any taxpayer was from Jia's village. By chance, Jia's neighbor was present, so Shi summoned him to the court and asked, "Since you are Jia's close neighbor, you must know where his silver came from." The neighbor said, "I do not know." Shi said, "Even the neighbor does not know—this money is clearly ill-gotten." Jia grew fearful and, looking at the neighbor, said, "How could you not know about my pawning clothes and selling things?" The neighbor hastily replied, "Yes, yes, that is so." Shi angrily declared, "You and Jia are surely accomplices; it seems you will not confess without torture!" He ordered the instruments of torture brought forth. The neighbor, terrified, said, "Because of our neighborly relations, I feared telling the truth would incur his resentment. Now that I am to be tortured, what have I to hide? The silver he used to pay taxes was indeed the money he robbed from Zhang." Upon hearing this, Shi released the neighbor. Since Zhang had not yet departed due to his lost silver, Shi ordered Jia to pawn his belongings to compensate Zhang. From this, it is evident that Magistrate Shi was truly able to handle affairs with earnest sincerity.
The Chronicler of the Strange remarks: When Master Shi was still a scholar, he was gentle, courteous, refined, and meticulous; people all said that entering the Hanlin Academy would suit him best, while serving as a local official was not his forte. Yet, once he assumed office, he was regarded as a "divine magistrate," and his fame resounded throughout the Hebei region. Who says that a man of literary talent does not understand the art of governing the people and aiding the world! Therefore, this tale is recorded to encourage all officials currently in office.
Commentary
This chapter not only shares a corresponding title with "The Taiyuan Prison Case," but also bears similarities in content, as both involve a suspect falsely accusing another to confuse the truth, with the presiding official skillfully resolving the dilemma. In this tale, Magistrate Shi Zongyu's method of solving the case is even more lawful and reasonable than that in "The Taiyuan Prison Case." Zhang, being ill and a traveling merchant from afar, was highly unlikely to be the thief, while the suspicion of theft fell more heavily upon Jia due to his financial circumstances. However, relying solely on the conflicting testimonies of the two men was insufficient to reach a verdict. Shi Zongyu recalled that "Jia had long been in arrears with his taxes, so he dispatched a bailiff to press him for payment," which clearly served as the perfect pretext and opportunity to compel Jia to produce evidence himself.
However, when the Historian of the Strange draws a universal conclusion from the resolution of a single case, declaring "Who says that literary essays have no practical use for governance?" he commits a logical fallacy. Here, "literary essays" do not refer to writing in general but specifically to the eight-legged essay, and through this commentary, we may glimpse Pu Songling's attitude toward the imperial examination system.