Censored by Confucius (20 page)

"My brother was tricked by that Daoist because he didn't know when to advance and when to retreat. It's utterly despicable! But I bet that Daoist wouldn't dare tackle me!"

His behavior that night was more licentious than ever before. Zhang called Luo back again and told him of the ghost's new threats.

"My magic works only once on each demon. I can't repeat it a second time," Luo said.

This left Zhang to sort the problem out for himself. Each evening he arranged that the young lady in question sleep in the temple of the city god for protection.

Sure enough the ghost did not harass her there. Whenever she returned home, however, she would face the same old torment.

This scenario continued for about six months. And then one snowy night, while Zhang was playing chess with a friend, a strange incident occurred. The chess game had continued deep into the night and at one point Zhang happened to open the window next to him to spit out some mouthwash.

In that instant he caught sight of a black-faced animal with yellow eyes, similar in shape and size to a donkey, crouched down in hiding under the steps. Zhang spat out his mouthwash, hitting the creature's back, then leaped out through the window intending to give chase, but the creature had already disappeared.

The next morning the maid told Zhang, "Last night the monster told me you had seen him. Now that his identity is no longer a secret, he can never return here."

True enough, the monster was not seen again.

The Thunder God Strikes Wang San

In Changzhou there lived a notorious criminal by the name of Wang San. When the city appointed a new prefect, a Mr. Dong Yi, his first mission was to arrest and charge Wang San.

Word of the new prefect's plan was leaked to Wang San, and he immediately went into hiding to avoid capture.

It turned out that the very day officers arrived at the Wang household to make the arrest, Wang's younger brother, Zhai, a scholar from Wujin County, was about to be married. Just as the bride crossed the threshold of her new house, Zhai was escorted out by the police, who took him in lieu of his elder brother. Zhai was summarily locked up in the local jail to await trial the next day.

That night, Wang San sneaked back home under cover of darkness. He figured that all the guests would be gone and, more important, that the police, having made an arrest, would no longer be guarding the house. He crept into the bridal chamber where the young bride lay alone and pretending to be his brother slept the night with his sister-in-law.

When Zhai was brought before the court the next morning, it was clear to the prefect that this weakling of a scholar was no criminal. Moreover, hearing that Zhai had been arrested on his wedding day, the prefect granted him a month's pardon while the search for Wang San continued.

Zhai returned home intending to make amends with his distressed wife. It was then that she realized that the man she had slept with the previous night was not her husband. Confronted with this humiliation, she hanged herself.

When news of her death reached her family, a tremendous fuss ensued. Their demands for justice were tempered when they realized that it was through no fault of Zhai's that his wife had killed herself.

"All the items of our daughter's dowry, including clothing and jew
elry, must be placed in her coffin. Then we'll let the matter rest," they said.

Zhai and the Wang family, themselves sunk in the depths of despair, were in no state to object to this request.

When Wang San heard of this settlement, however, his licentious mind started to tick over. After the burial, he tracked down the grave and dug up the coffin. When he opened the lid he found the body beneath to be still in perfect condition—it was almost as if she were still alive.

He then removed her underclothes and had sex with the corpse. After the rape he filled his pockets with all the jewelry and pearls in the coffin and made off down the road.

Then, from out of the
blue came a bolt of lightning and a clap of
thunder—Wang San was hit and killed in a flash. At the very instant of his death the young woman came back to life.

The next morning, Zhai received a message from the cemetery's groundsman notifying him of what had happened. He hurried over and welcomed his wife back into the family and they resumed a normal marriage.

When the prefect heard of this strange occurrence he immediately ordered that Wang San's bones be chopped into tiny pieces and burned. The ashes were to be dispersed far and wide.

Memories of Suiyan

An aunt of mine, Madam Wang, was on her deathbed suffering from a terrible illness, when all of a sudden she turned toward the wall and burst into hysterical laughter.

Her daughter asked her what had happened and she said: "I have just been told that my nephew on the Yuan side will win a scholarship to further his studies. That's why I'm so happy!"

At the time of her death I was only a young student, but sure enough, a year after she had passed away I came third in the county examinations and was awarded a scholarship.

Just after the death of my father, one of his close attendants, a Miss Zhu, fell gravely ill. In the midst of her delirium she called out, "I must go now! I must go! The master is calling me to join him on the roof."

Now Miss Zhu had not been told of my father's death, since everyone, although personally grief-stricken at his parting, was concerned that news of her master's death would cause Miss Zhu's own health to decline. Nevertheless, it wasn't long before she too had died. This event supports the ancients' claim that after death the soul rises to the roof. It is, I suppose, a quite plausible explanation.

One day my gatekeeper, Zhu Ming, suddenly died. But then, just as suddenly, he opened his eyes and came back to life. Hands outstretched, he asked for some ghost money: "I'll be needing money to cover my various entertainment expenses. Could you please burn some offerings now so that I can die in peace?"

In autumn 1754, during the Qianlong emperor's reign, I was stricken with a terrible illness. In the midst of my suffering I saw, kneeling at the foot of my bed, a little boy with a white face and a tasseled hat. He held up a piece of paper on which was written, "This family is well managed but it is a little on the small side."

I suspected that this was some sort of black humor that ghosts inflict upon those with serious illnesses, so I decided to have a bit of fun at his
expense as well. At lunch I had a small portion of pepper soup and this cleared my chest considerably. So I started to recite the phrase "The poor little ghost is afraid of pepper!"

At this the child smiled at me and disappeared. Later, at the height of my fever, I felt six or seven bodies lying crisscrossing along my bed. If I lay still for too long they would shake the bed, and if I were quiet for too long they would try to get me to moan and groan.

As my fever receded the number of people lying across my bed was reduced, so that once the fever had completely passed I was alone in my bed again. From this incident on, I have always believed in the theory of the "three spirits and the six souls."

But on the other hand there are some dreams that simply can't be accounted for.

My grandfather, Yuan Danfu, loved dabbling in Daoist magic. One night he dreamed he was on a mountaintop, and there before him a banquet was taking place. It was just like the eight immortals' banquet he had seen in various paintings.

When my grandfather approached, none of these immortals would rise to greet him, so he said in jest: "There may be eight immortals but you've only fifteen legs between you."

The crippled immortal, Li, was furious at this and he took up his crutch and struck out at Grandfather. The other immortals pushed Grandfather onto his knees shouting, "Hurry up! Beg forgiveness!" But by this time the crutch had already struck my grandfather's stomach.

Cripple Li then said, "I will give you three more years, but that's all!"

Grandfather woke with a terrible fright. It wasn't long after this that he developed an egg-sized swelling on his waist, which none of the doctors seemed to be able to do anything about. Gradually the lump became putrid. Three years later my grandfather died.

That's why I am always joking, "That lousy cripple has made enemies of my entire family for all eternity, so I'll curse his portrait whenever I see it." I've not suffered any retribution yet.

My brother-in-law Wang Gongnan once dreamed that while visiting the grave of Shaobao to ask instructions from the divine beings there he was chased by an ugly, ferocious monk armed with a stick.

In a panic Gongnan fled, eventually coming across a group of several dozen monks seated in a grassy clearing. Gongnan begged for their assistance and the monks hid him in the grass, linked hands, and formed a circle facing outwards with Gongnan in the center.

His pursuer arrived and when he couldn't get through to Gongnan he said to the monks, "Why do you want to protect this heartless bastard? Move aside and let him have a taste of my stick!"

At that point Gongnan woke from his dream in terror. But nothing seems to have happened to him yet.

I remember as a young boy dreaming that I was floating down a river on a raft made of thousands of writing brushes. To date, nothing seems to have come from this dream either.

One day in early spring I had a dream that the god of war, Guandi, complete with his long, flowing beard and green gown, was hanging in midair before me. He grabbed me with his left hand and hurled a bolt of lightning at my back with his right. The lightning scorched one side
of my body; it was agonizingly painful. When I woke from the dream, my stomach was still quite hot.

One explanation given for this dream was that Guandi was born in the year of the horse and I had passed the county examinations in another horse year. I suppose it is possible, but I'm not very convinced.

I sat the county examinations in 1732, during the Yongzheng emperor's reign. At the fifth watch of the day before the examinations were due to start, I dreamed that our old doorman, Li Nianxian, stopped me in the middle of the road. Waving his hands frantically, he implored me not to attend.

"Don't go! Don't go! If you sit the examinations this year you will fail. They are only passing a very few talented scholars this year. Wait until they plan to pass a lot of scholars before you sit the examinations."

At the time they had been passing a very wide range of scholars and so I thought that this premonition was nonsense. As it turned out I did in fact fail. Being awarded a scholarship is only the first step on the long road of the examinations.

Even at this early stage, it was clear to me that supernatural forces were at work. All the same, I did succeed in becoming a provincial candidate, went on to become a Hanlin Academician, and was promoted to the position of magistrate without any further supernatural predictions. I often wonder why.

The Cool Old Man

At Mount Wutai in Shanxi Province there lived a Buddhist monk who was known by the title of Cool Old Man. During his life he took it upon himself to spread Buddhist teachings, particularly the Zen school. He was quite famous and even Premier E had studied under him. In 1726, during the Yongzheng emperor's reign, the monk passed away.

At the exact moment of his death, a child was born in Tibet. The child didn't say a word until he was eight years old. Just as his head was being shaved the boy suddenly shouted, "I am the Cool Old Man. Go quickly and tell Premier E that I am here!"

The premier summoned the boy and questioned him to verify his identity. Everything the boy said was just as the Cool Old Man would have said. The boy recognized all the premier's attendants and, addressing them by name, chatted with them as if he had never been away.

Premier E then decided to give him one last test. He presented the boy with a set of rosary beads. The boy took the beads, bowed lowly, and said, "I can't accept these beads. They are the very beads that I presented to you in my previous incarnation."

The startled premier immediately ordered that the boy be taken to Mount Wutai to resume his position as abbot.

On the way to the monastery, the party passed through Hejian Village. While there the boy sent word of his arrival to a Mr. Yuan, a Hejian local, who had been a great friend of the Cool Old Man during his previous life. When Yuan received the letter he saddled the black horse that the monk had given him, and galloped off to welcome his friend back to the region. Needless to say, Yuan was all the while in a state of considerable surprise.

When the boy saw his friend on the black horse he immediately stepped out of the carriage and embraced him, saying, "We've been apart for eight years now. Do you still remember me?" Then he
stroked the horse's mane and asked, "And you, my friend, how have you been?"