Original Text
In the city of Chang'an there lived a scholar named Fang Dong, who was quite talented and renowned, but he was frivolous and lacked propriety. Whenever he went out and encountered young women on outings, he would brazenly follow them. One day before the Qingming Festival, he strolled to the outskirts of the city and saw a small carriage with red curtains and embroidered drapes, followed slowly by several maidservants in blue attire riding horses. Among them was one maid riding a pony, whose appearance was exceptionally beautiful. Fang Dong edged closer to peek, and saw that the carriage curtains were wide open, revealing a young lady of about sixteen or seventeen, richly adorned and extraordinarily lovely—a beauty he had never seen before in his life. His eyes dazzled and his mind was lost; he could not tear himself away and chased after her, sometimes ahead of the carriage, sometimes behind, following for several li. Suddenly, he heard the young lady call the maid to her side and say, "Let down the curtains for me. What insolent young scoundrel keeps staring at me?" The maid then lowered the curtains and said angrily to Fang Dong, "This is the bride of the Seventh Young Master of Furong City, returning to her parents' home. She is no ordinary village wife, to be gawked at by a scholar like you!" With these words, she scooped up a handful of dust from the wheel rut and flung it at Fang Dong.
Fang Dong's eyes were immediately blurred, and he could not open them. When he rubbed his eyes and looked again, the carriage and horses had vanished without a trace. Astonished and bewildered, he returned home, feeling discomfort in his eyes. He asked someone to lift his eyelids and examine them, only to find a small film growing over his pupils. After a night, his eyes grew even more painful, and tears streamed down incessantly. The film gradually enlarged, and within a few days, it became as thick as a copper coin; a spiral-shaped film grew over his right pupil, and no medicine could cure it. Fang Dong was utterly dejected and frustrated, and reflecting on his past actions, he felt deep remorse. Hearing that reciting the Sutra of Light could dispel calamities, he obtained a copy and asked someone to teach him to chant it. At first, though he chanted the sutra, his heart was restless and agitated, but over time, he gradually calmed down. From then on, morning and evening, he sat cross-legged, twirling his prayer beads and reciting the sutra. After persisting for a year, he felt that all distracting thoughts had been purged. One day, he suddenly heard a voice from his left eye, like the buzzing of a mosquito or fly, saying, "It's pitch black in here, utterly unbearable!" A voice from his right eye responded, "Let us go out and roam freely together to vent our pent-up feelings." At that moment, Fang Dong gradually felt an itching sensation in both nostrils, as if insects were crawling, and something seemed to crawl out from within and leave his nostrils. After a long while, the things returned, crawling back into his nostrils and into his eye sockets. He heard again, "We haven't visited the garden these past days; how did the pearl orchids all wither and die?" Fang Dong had always been fond of fragrant orchids, so he had planted many in his garden and often watered and tended them himself, but since losing his sight, he had neglected them for a long time. Hearing this, he urgently asked his wife, "Why did you let the orchids wither and die?" His wife pressed him on how he knew the orchids had withered, and Fang Dong told her the reason. His wife immediately went to the garden to verify, and indeed, the orchids were withered. She found this very strange and quietly hid in the room to await the appearance of the things. After a while, she saw two tiny figures crawl out from Fang Dong's nostrils, no larger than a bean, and they flew out the door with a buzzing sound, growing smaller and smaller until they disappeared from sight. After some time, the two figures returned hand in hand, flew to Fang Dong's face, and entered his nostrils like bees or ants returning to their hive. This continued for two or three days. Fang Dong then heard the figure in his left eye say, "The tunnel out is winding and inconvenient for travel; why don't we open a door ourselves?" The figure in his right eye responded, "The wall blocking me is very thick and not easy to break through." The left-eye figure said, "Let me try to open a door first; if I can make a passage, I'll share it with you." Then Fang Dong felt a dull pain in his left eye socket, as if it were being torn. After a long while, he opened his eyes and could clearly see the furniture and decorations in the room. Overjoyed, he told his wife. She carefully examined his eye and saw that a small hole had broken through the film, revealing a glistening black pupil the size of half a peppercorn. After a night, the thick film over his left eye had completely disappeared. Upon closer inspection, there were two pupils inside, but the spiral film over his right eye remained as before, and he realized that the two tiny figures had taken up residence together in one eye socket. Though Fang Dong was blind in one eye, he could see more clearly than those with two eyes. From then on, he became even more careful to restrain his behavior, and his fellow villagers all praised his noble character.
The Chronicler of Strange Tales says: In a village, there was a scholar who one day walked along the road with two friends. From afar, they saw a young woman riding a donkey ahead of them. He said in a jesting tone, "What a beauty!" Then, turning to his friends, he added, "Let us catch up to her!" So the three of them laughed and rushed forward. Soon they caught up, only to discover that she was his own daughter-in-law. Filled with shame, he hung his head in dejection and fell silent. His friends, pretending not to notice, made lewd remarks about the woman. The scholar, deeply embarrassed, stammered, "This is my eldest son's wife." Only then did his friends suppress their laughter and desist. A frivolous man often brings humiliation upon himself—how laughable! As for Fang Dong, who lost his sight from squinting, that was a severe retribution from the spirits. The Lord of Hibiscus City, unknown as to which deity he was, might he have been an incarnation of the Bodhisattva? Yet the tiny figures within the pupils removed the thick film from Fang Dong's eyes, showing that although the spirits are stern, they never deny a person the chance to repent and reform!
Commentary
This is a story admonishing against looking at what should not be seen.
The scholar Fang Dong in this tale was quite unfortunate; merely for secretly following and peeping at the bride of the Seventh Young Master of Hibiscus City, he was afflicted with cataracts. Later, he sincerely repented and recited the Sutra of Brightness, whereupon he was pardoned and his eyesight restored.
Why is it that in Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, other frivolous men who pursue women are regarded as romantic, yet Fang Dong alone is punished? The reasons are likely threefold: first, Fang Dong was not devoted to a single love but rather given to indiscriminate and wanton behavior; second, he spied upon a celestial being of noble status; third, and more importantly, the bride of Hibiscus City was a married woman.
The most exquisite part of the tale lies in the depiction of the little man's actions and speech, such as: "A tiny figure emerged from within his nose, no larger than a bean, buzzing and bustling as it went straight out the door. Gradually it grew distant, then vanished from sight. After a while, it returned arm in arm, flying back onto his face, like bees or ants returning to their nest." And again: "From within the left eye came a faint murmur like a fly, saying, 'It is as black as pitch, insufferably stifling!' The right eye responded, 'Let us go on a little jaunt together, to relieve this tedium.'" These passages capture the essence of things with vivid language, conveying a sense of wonder and fairy-tale charm.
If viewed from a medical perspective, this piece serves as a folk explanation, tinged with shamanistic and medical elements of that era, regarding the cause and treatment of the eye ailment known as "cataract." However, while you may dismiss the notion that a handful of earth could cause cataracts as absurd, and the transformation of cataracts into double pupils as fantastical, you cannot help but admire Pu Songling's brilliant literary depiction of eye diseases!