23

The Older Sister’s Soul Leaves Her Body to Fulfill a Wish

The Younger Sister Recovers from Illness to Renew a Bond

In the words of a quatrain,

Siblings share the same breath of life;

The beans and the beanstalks come from the same root.1

Sisters are bound in life and in death;

How laughable—brothers who are locked in strife!

The story goes that during the Yuanhe period [806–20] under the reign of Emperor Xianzong of the Tang dynasty, there was a Censor Li Xingxiu, known as “Censor Li the Eleventh.” His wife Wang-shi, daughter of Wang Zhongshu, surveillance commissioner of Jiangxi, was a woman of exemplary virtue and conduct. Xingxiu held her in great esteem. Lady Wang had a little sister who was as pretty as she was bright. Lady Wang loved her dearly and often kept the little girl at her side. Xingxiu also loved the girl as if she were his own flesh and blood.

One day, Xingxiu went to attend a clansman’s wedding and stayed the night at the clansman’s house. That night, he had a dream in which he married a new wife. By the lamplight he saw that the bride was none other than Lady Wang’s little sister. He woke up with a start and felt sick at heart. When the long-awaited day finally broke, he rushed home with all the haste he could muster. When he arrived, his wife, having risen at the first light of dawn, was sitting in gloomy silence and wiping away her tears. He asked what was bothering her, but she said nothing, so he turned to the servants and asked, “Why is the mistress in such a state?”

The servants replied, “The old cook said this morning that he had a dream last night in which he saw you, Master, marrying young Miss Wang. When Mistress heard about it, she worried that something might happen to her and has been weeping all morning.”

Xingxiu’s hair stood on end as he heard this. Breaking into a cold sweat, he thought, “That’s exactly the same dream I had!” As they were a deeply loving couple, Xingxiu was very distraught, but he forced himself to cheer his wife up, saying, “That old man is a muddle-headed fool. How can his dream mean anything?” While mouthing these words, he was still full of misgivings over the coincidence.

Not many days later, Lady Wang fell ill. She failed to respond to treatments and died after two months. Xingxiu cried until he fainted. After he came to, he wrote a letter to his father-in-law, Mr. Wang, notifying him of the bereavement. The letter plunged the entire Wang family into grief. Mr. Wang could not find it in his heart to sever the tie of kinship with Xingxiu, so in his return letter, he expressed the wish to marry his younger daughter to Xingxiu. This was at a moment when Xingxiu was consumed with the most gut-wrenching grief. It pained him to talk about remarrying, and so he firmly rejected his father-in-law’s offer.

There was a certain Wei Sui, Palace Librarian, who made a point of making the acquaintance of eccentric personalities. Noticing how Li Xingxiu missed his wife, Librarian Wei suddenly said to him, “You do miss your wife sorely, Inspector. Would you like to see her?”

“She and I are in separate worlds now. How would I see her?”

“But if you do want to see her, Inspector, why don’t you go ask the Venerable Old Mr. Wang of Chousang [in Hunan]?”

“Who’s the Venerable Old Mr. Wang?”

“Let’s not get into that. Just be sure to remember the words ‘Venerable Old Mr. Wang.’ As long as you do, you’ll be able to meet him.”

Intrigued, Xingxiu committed the words to memory. (MC: Things happen when you put your mind to it.)

After a few years, Miss Wang came of age. Cherishing the memory of his deceased older daughter, Mr. Wang repeatedly dispatched matchmakers to Xingxiu to talk him into remarrying, but Xingxiu did not have the heart to betray his deceased wife and turned a deaf ear.

Later, he was appointed censor of the Eastern Capital [Luoyang] and, by imperial decree, went through the Tong Pass. He stopped at the Chousang government courier station. Because another imperial inspector had checked into the courier station before him, he was put up at an inn, called “Chousang Inn,” also at government expense. The word “Chousang” piqued his curiosity. He thought, “Could that Venerable Old Wang or whatever be living here?” Before he could make inquiries, his ears caught a commotion on the street. He walked to the door and saw a crowd gathered around an old man, asking him all sorts of questions and tugging and pulling at him. Witnessing this scene of confusion, Xingxiu asked the innkeeper, “What are they doing?”

The innkeeper replied, “This is Old Man Wang, a very remarkable man and quite a fortune-teller. The local people venerate him as a god. Wherever he’s seen walking by, people will stop him and ask him endless questions about the future.”

Recalling Librarian Wei’s words, Xingxiu said, “So this man does exist!” Whereupon he asked the innkeeper to invite the old man into the inn to see him.

Impressed by Xingxiu’s status as an imperial censor on a mission, the innkeeper dared not drag his feet. Losing no time, he parted the crowd and seized the old man, saying, “A Censor Li the Eleventh invites you to my inn.” On hearing that a government official was requesting the old man’s presence, the crowd cleared a path for him and quickly dispersed. When he was led to Xingxiu, Xingxiu stopped him from bowing on account of his advanced age. After telling the old man about his longing for his deceased wife and Librarian Wei’s recommendation, he continued, “I wonder if you, Venerable Elder, could work some magic and let me see my wife’s departed soul?”

“If Master the Eleventh wishes to see his deceased honorable wife,” the old man said, “that can happen this very evening. (MC: Easy enough!)

The old man asked Xingxiu to dismiss all the servants and led him to an earthen mound. After they climbed up a slope tens of feet high, they could faintly see a thicket. The old man stopped in his tracks and said to Xingxiu, “Sir, if you’d now go to that thicket and call out ‘Miaozi’ [Wonderful One] (MC: A wonderful name.), someone will answer to that name. Then you say, ‘Please relay this message to Lady Nine: I’ll borrow Miaozi tonight, to see my deceased wife.’ ”

Following the old man’s instructions, Xingxiu went to the thicket and called out that name. Sure enough, someone answered to that name, after which Xingxiu repeated what the old man had told him to say.

Soon, a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old girl emerged from the trees and said, “Lady Nine sent me to go with you, sir.” Having said that, she broke off two bamboo branches, one for herself to ride on and the other for Xingxiu’s use. The bamboo branches proved to be as fast as horses. After thus traveling for about thirty to forty li, they came to a city gate with magnificent watchtowers. They pressed ahead, and after coming upon a large gated palace, the girl said, “Head north along the western corridor, and you’ll find your wife in her residence in the second hall from the south.”

Following these instructions, Xingxiu went to the designated hall, and, sure enough, a maid who had died more than ten years earlier came out to greet him. After Xingxiu sat down at the maid’s request, Lady Wang emerged from inside and greeted him tearfully. Xingxiu gathered her in his arms and poured out his grief over the separation to her. He asked for intimacy, but Lady Wang would not hear of it. She said, “You and I are in different worlds. I shouldn’t do this and leave a source of trouble. If you still cherish the memory of our love, you may marry my little sister so as to continue the two families’ marriage alliance. That way, my wish will be fulfilled. Since you requested this meeting, this is what I ask of you.”

At this point, the girl called out in a harsh voice from the other side of the door, urging Xingxiu to be on his way. “Li the Eleventh, it’s time to go!”

Not daring to stay any longer, Xingxiu departed, fighting back his tears.

The girl and Xingxiu remounted their bamboo branches and returned to the thicket, where the old man was sleeping, his head pillowed on a rock. Judging from the footsteps that Xingxiu must have returned, he rose and asked, “Was your wish fulfilled?”

“Yes, I did meet her.”

“You owe it to Lady Nine for sending you a guide.”

Obligingly, Xingxiu escorted Miaozi back into the thicket and called out his thanks at the top of his voice. On returning to where the old man was, he asked, “Who’s Lady Nine?”

“She’s the one in whose honor the shrine nearby was built. The goddess is most responsive to prayers.”

The old man took Xingxiu back to the inn, where the lamps on the wall were still burning, the horses were still feeding at the trough, and the servants and porters were still fast asleep. Xingxiu wondered if he had been dreaming, but the old man was there, living proof that his recent adventure had been for real. After the old man bade him farewell and took off, Xingxiu remained standing and marveled for a while longer. Considering the sincerity of his wife’s advice, he wrote a detailed report of these events to his father-in-law, Mr. Wang.

Soon thereafter, the wedding between Xingxiu and his sister-in-law took place, bearing out the dream. Indeed,

The old son-in-law became the new one;

Brother-in-law the elder became brother-in-law the younger.

At the dawn of time, King Yao’s daughters Ehuang and Nüying both married King Shun, and there has been no lack of instances in which a younger sister succeeded a deceased older sister as wife of the same man so as not to sever the marriage alliance between the two families.2 But there had never been a case in which a deceased wife acted from the netherworld as a matchmaker for her younger sister.

This extraordinary story is one of a kind. It illustrates the point that the spirit does not die with the body. Although she had lost her grip on life, Lady Wang still cherished her husband’s love as well as her affection for her little sister. It was her emotional attachment to these two that prompted her to do this for them from the netherworld in fulfillment of her wish. Such loyalty on her part is in fact not all that surprising because she and her husband had been a loving couple of many years, after all.

Now I propose to tell a story in which an unmarried woman, in honor of a previous commitment, fulfilled her own marriage destiny in the netherworld and brought about her sister’s marriage. It is an enjoyable story with details that sometimes are credible and sometimes beyond the realm of plausibility. There is a poem in testimony:

The dead returning to life is nothing new,

And dead souls do often borrow other bodies.

But who has ever heard of a case of

One grabbing another’s body to fulfill a wish?

This story takes place in the Dade reign period [1297–1308] of the Yuan dynasty. There lived in Yangzhou a rich man named Mr. Wu. Because he had once served as a defense commissioner, he was called by all and sundry “Commissioner Wu.” He lived next to Spring Breeze Tower. He had two daughters, Xingniang and Qingniang, who were two years apart. Both were still in swaddling clothes. Among the neighbors, there was a Squire Cui, who spent a great deal of time in Mr. Wu’s company. Squire Cui had a son called Xingge, born in the same year as Xingniang. Squire Cui asked Commissioner Wu if his son could be betrothed to Xingniang. Commissioner Wu gladly accepted the proposal, and Mr. Cui offered a phoenix-shaped gold hairpin as the betrothal gift. After the engagement, Cui took his entire family to a faraway place to assume a new post. Fifteen years went by without a word from him. By this time, Xingniang, the older daughter, was nineteen. Considering her age, her mother said to the commissioner, “Nothing has been heard from Xingge of the Cui family for fifteen years now. Our Xingniang has come of age. We shouldn’t hold on to the betrothal and jeopardize our daughter’s future.”

Commissioner Wu replied, “But as they say, once you’ve given your word, a thousand taels of silver can’t change it. I’ve already engaged our daughter to an old friend’s son. How can I go back on my word simply because there’s no news from them?”

Being but a woman with little sense, Mrs. Wu was displeased that her daughter remained single at this marriageable age. Day after day, she nagged at her husband, trying to talk him into seeking another match. As for Xingniang, however, she had no other thought than looking forward to Mr. Cui Junior’s return. To her relief, her father lived by his principles, but whenever her mother began to set her tongue to work, she would shed furtive tears in resentment. Afraid that her father might yield to her mother’s insistence and change his mind, she knew no peace of mind and wished with all her heart for young Mr. Cui to return as soon as possible. She wore out her eyes looking for the Cui family’s return, but there was no word from the Cuis. Gradually, she lost all appetite for food and drink. She fell ill and was confined to her bed. Six months later, she died. Her parents, her sister, and members of the entire household cried themselves into a daze. Before her body was lowered into the coffin, her mother said sobbingly, holding in her hand the phoenix-shaped gold hairpin from the Cui family (MC: How sad!), “This is from your prospective husband’s family. Now that you’re gone, why would I want to keep it? The sight of it will only add to my grief. You take it.” So saying, she stuck the hairpin in her daughter’s hair-bun before the lid was laid on the coffin. After three days, the coffin was carried outside the city for burial. A shrine in her honor was set up at home, and members of the family wept and made offerings to it both morning and evening.

Two months after the burial, young Mr. Cui suddenly made an appearance. (MC: How tragic!) Commissioner Wu greeted him, ushered him in, and asked, “Where have you been all these years? Are your parents safe and sound?”

“My father became the director of judicial justice of Xuande Prefecture, but he passed away at his duty station. My mother also died, several years before he did. I’ve been observing my mourning period there and have just taken off my mourning clothes. Having done everything that needed to be done after my parents’ deaths, I traveled all the way here in order to fulfill the betrothal.”

Tears stole down Commissioner Wu’s cheeks as he said, “My daughter Xingniang was born to suffer. She fell ill in her longing for you and died in deep distress two months ago. She was buried outside the city. If you’d come half a year earlier, she might not have died. But it’s too late now.” With that, he broke down in a fit of sobs.

Even though he had never met the girl, young Mr. Cui was also overcome with emotion.

“Although my daughter has been buried,” said Commissioner Wu, “her shrine is still here at home. Please go and let her spirit know that you’re here.”

With tears in his eyes, he led Cui by the hand into an inner room. Cui raised his eyes and saw

Curling paper streamers

And graceful images of a boy and a girl.3

A wisp of incense smoke curled upward;

The streamers bore passages in Sanskrit;

One child held a silver tray, the other an embroidered scarf.

Two lamps emitted a flickering light.

On the scroll,

A portrait of the beautiful dead girl.

On the white wooden tablet,

The name of the recently passed eldest daughter.

As Cui prostrated himself at the foot of the shrine, Commissioner Wu tapped on the table and said at the top of his voice, “Xingniang, my daughter! Your husband is here! Your soul shouldn’t have gone far. Are you aware of his presence?” Having said that, he burst into loud wails of grief. With the commissioner so distraught, all the other members of the family gave way to their grief and cried themselves into a state nearer death than life. (MC: How could they not cry?) Even Cui shed copious tears.

After they had their cry, they burned some sacrificial paper money, and Cui was introduced to Mrs. Wu in front of the shrine. (MC: A heartrending moment.) Still sobbing, Mrs. Wu returned Cui’s salute by bowing slightly from the waist. The commissioner said to Cui after they returned to the reception hall, “Since your parents have died and you’ve come such a great distance, why don’t you stay with us? You may not be an in-law, but you’re the son of an old friend and therefore just like my own son. Don’t make strangers of us just because Xingniang is no longer with us.” Immediately, he told servants to carry Mr. Cui’s luggage in and straighten up a small study by the gate for Cui to sleep in. Thereafter, the commissioner went to check on him morning and evening, and they quickly warmed to each other.

About half a month later, when the Clear and Bright Festival [around April 5] rolled around, Commissioner Wu took his whole family to pay their respects at Xingniang’s new grave and burn offerings of sacrificial paper money. By that time, Xingniang’s sister, Qingniang, was seventeen years old. She joined her mother on the trip, each in a separate sedan-chair. Cui was the only one left behind to look after the house. Generally speaking, female members of good families rarely leave the seclusion of their homes. Upon the advent of a festival when spring is at its height, they would be only too happy to find an excuse to go outdoors in search of amusement. Although Qingniang went to her sister’s grave with a heavy heart, the red peach blossoms and green willows so appealed to her and her mother that they lingered there for a whole day and did not return home until evening closed in. Cui had been waiting for them outside the gate. At the sight of two sedan-chairs for women, he went to the left side of the gate to greet them. After the first sedan-chair had passed and the second chair was going by, he heard something drop to the brick pavement with a tinkling sound. After the sedan-chair had passed, he hastened to pick it up and saw that it was a phoenix-shaped gold hairpin. Realizing that it must have belonged to one of the ladies, he rushed forward to return it, but the gate leading to the inner quarters of the house had closed. Having tired themselves out after the day’s trip and still slightly under the influence of wine, the family members had closed the inner gate and prepared for bed. Guessing as much, Cui thought it prudent not to disturb them. He could wait until the next day.

After returning to his small study, he put the hairpin in a secure place in a book box, sat down by the lamp, and plunged into thought. His marriage prospects were gone, he had no one else to turn to for help, and he was now reduced to living under another family’s roof. Even though he was treated as their son-in-law, that was no solution in the long run. (MC: This does call for some good thinking.) Who knew what such an arrangement would lead to?

Feeling low, he heaved one sigh after another. Then he went to bed, but as he was about to lie back against his pillow, he heard a knock on his door. “Who is it?” he asked, but there was no answer. Cui thought his ears had deceived him and was about to lie down when the knocking resumed. He asked again who it was, and again, all became quiet. Bewildered, he sat on the edge of the bed and was about to put on his shoes and go to the door to listen carefully when the knocks started again, but no voice was heard. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he rose to his feet and turned up the wick of the lamp, which, luckily, had not yet burned out. Lamp in hand, he opened the door and saw, all too clearly by the bright lamplight, a beautiful seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girl standing there. As soon as the door was open, she raised the cotton portiere and walked in.

Cui was so appalled that he recoiled two steps. All smiles, the girl said to him in a subdued voice, “Don’t you recognize me? I’m Xingniang’s sister, Qingniang. My hairpin fell from my sedan-chair when I was entering the gate, which is why I’m here to look for it before the night is out. Did you pick it up?”

Because she was his deceased fiancée’s sister, Cui replied respectfully, “Yes, a hairpin did drop to the ground from your sedan-chair. I picked it up and wanted to return it to you, but as the inner gate had been closed, I didn’t want to disturb you, meaning to wait until tomorrow. Now that you’re here to look for it, let me give it back to you.” Right away, he took it out of the book box, put it on the table, and said, “Please take it.”

The girl took the hairpin with her delicate hand and, sticking it into her hair, said smilingly to him, “If I’d known that you’d picked it up, I wouldn’t have had to come and look for it at this time of night. But now that I’m out of the inner quarters of the house at this late hour, I can’t very well go back. I’ll have to share your pillow and mat and spend the night here.” (MC: These items are surely not for her to share!)

Aghast, Cui said, “What kind of talk is this? With your parents treating me as their own flesh and blood, how could I do such an outrageous thing and compromise your good name? Please leave. I’ll never oblige!”

The girl insisted, “Everyone else is fast asleep. No one will know. Why don’t we have some fun in the sweetness of the night? Why can’t the two of us keep seeing each other on the quiet, adding another bond to the existing one?”

“If you don’t want to be found out, you shouldn’t do anything wrong in the first place,” said Cui. “I thank you for your sentiments, but if anything should give us away and we’re found out, how am I going to face your father? If word gets out, how am I going to hold up my head again? Won’t I have ruined the good name I’ve built for myself so far?”

“It’s such a sweet night, but at this late hour, you and I are both by our forlorn selves. It’s by our predestined bond that we have the rare opportunity to be together in the same room. Why don’t we enjoy the moment? Why care about being found out or not? What’s more, I’ll be able to cover up for you. We won’t be caught. Don’t hesitate, or you’ll be missing out on the pleasure.”

The young woman’s coquettish words and her ravishing beauty began to inflame Cui’s heart. But recalling Commissioner Wu’s kindness to him, he still dared not make a rash move. Like a child playing with firecrackers, he was sorely tempted but also afraid. He was about to give in to her when he again thought better of it and said, shaking his head, “No, I can’t do this!” Seeing no other way, he pleaded with the young woman, “Out of regard for your sister, Xingniang, please leave my good name unsoiled!” (MC: Little does he know that her sister is the one he is dealing with. Important!)

Mortified by his stubborn refusal, the young woman turned hostile. Flying into a rage, she said, “My father treats you as one of his own and put you up in this study, but you had the audacity to lure me here in the depths of the night. What are you up to? If I make a fuss and tell my father about it, he’ll lodge a complaint against you at the yamen. (MC: A false countercharge works best.) Let’s see you try to talk your way out of that! You won’t be let off easy!”

Now that she was turning the tables on him and trying to make a scene, her voice harsh and her face dark with anger, Cui took fright. He thought, “What a holy terror she is! Now that she’s in my room, I’ll be hard pressed to say anything in my own defense. On the off chance that she makes a fuss about this and sticks to her story, how am I going to argue my innocence? I’d better yield to her now. We may not be found out right away, after all. (MC: Thinking only of the moment.) I can take my time thinking up a solution.” Truly,

Like a ram with its horns stuck in a fence,

He was caught in a dilemma.

Resignedly he said to her, managing a cautious smile, “Please keep your voice down. Since you do me such honor, I put myself at your disposal.”

Her anger turning to joy at his submission, the young woman said, “I didn’t know you were so faint of heart!”

Cui closed the door and the two of them undressed and went to bed. There is a ci poem to the tune of “Moon on West River” in testimony:

He a lonesome lodger under another’s roof;

She a pretty girl in a secluded boudoir.

They joined in a union of delight,

Like a pair of phoenixes in conjugal bliss.

Seeming to be fulfilling a betrothal,

Their tryst was shrouded in mystery.

The newly acquainted wallowing in pleasure

Owed it to the love of the departed soul.

After their amorous sport was over, they still lay deeply immersed in love and indescribable happiness. When daybreak was approaching, the young woman rose, took leave of Cui, and slipped back into the interior part of the house.

However delighted he was by this taste of the sweetness of love, Cui was troubled by his conscience and spent his days on tenterhooks, afraid that he would be found out. Luckily, the girl covered her tracks well in her comings and goings. She proved to be a feather-footed young woman, slipping into Cui’s study near the gate at night and dashing back into the interior part of the house at dawn, enjoying the trysts without anyone being any the wiser.

One night, after more than a month had gone by in like manner, she said suddenly to Cui, “With me cooped up in the depths of my boudoir and you holed up in this study, we should count ourselves lucky that we haven’t been caught. However, as they say, the road to happiness never runs smooth, and many an obstacle may appear to block a sweet rendezvous. If we’re found out and my parents come down hard on us, I’ll be locked up in my room and you’ll be driven out. I don’t mind being locked up, but I’ll be guilty of implicating you and sullying your good name. We need to think of a long-term solution.”

“That was exactly my point when I refused to oblige you in the beginning. It certainly wasn’t because I was a block of wood with no feelings! But now that things have come to this, what are we going to do?”

“As I see it, it would be best for us to elope before we’re found out. We can make our home elsewhere and live in seclusion. Only thus will we be able to live together for the rest of our lives. What do you say?”

“That’s indeed a good idea, but I’m all alone, and I’ve always had few relatives and friends to turn to for help. If we elope, I’m afraid there’s hardly anyplace where we can go.” After a few moments of reflection, he was suddenly struck by an idea: “I remember my father used to say that a former servant of ours, called Jin Rong, is a man of honor. He lives in Lücheng of Zhenjiang [in Jiangsu] as a farmer and was doing well. Let’s throw ourselves on his mercy. Out of his regard for my father, his old master, he won’t turn me down. (MC: What if he does? This is not a surefire plan.) What’s more, there’s a direct water route from here to his home. What could be easier than that?”

“If so, we have no time to lose! Let’s go before the night is out!”

Having thus made up their minds, they rose at dawn, the fifth watch, and packed. The study being conveniently located by the gate, they exited the house without difficulty. The wharf was just a short distance away. Cui approached the fleet of boats and engaged a small wooden rowboat. He had the boat rowed to the gate of the house, picked up the girl, and got under way. When they arrived at Guazhou [across from Zhenjiang on the other side of the Yangzi River], Cui paid the boatman and hired a larger boat for the longer journey. After they crossed the river and entered the prefecture of Runzhou, they headed for Danyang. Another forty li later, they arrived at Lücheng. After they moored the boat and went ashore, Cui asked a villager, “Is there a Jin Rong here?”

The villager replied, “Yes, Jin Rong is our local headman. He’s rich, and he’s an honest man. Who doesn’t know him? (MC: Good thing he is an honest man. If his wealth is his only commendation, he is not to be trusted.) But why do you ask?”

“He’s a distant relative of mine. I’m here to pay him a visit. Could you please tell me where he lives?”

Pointing a finger, the villager said, “Look! See that large wineshop over there? He lives next door to it.”

Delighted to have gotten the information he wanted, Cui returned to the boat, told the girl about it in order to make her feel better, and went by himself to the Jin residence. On hearing voices, Headman Jin stepped out and asked, “Who might the visitor be?”

As Cui approached, with his hands clasped in greeting, the headman asked further, “Where are you from, scholar?”

“I’m the son of Mr. Cui of Yangzhou.”

On hearing “Mr. Cui of Yangzhou,” the headman gave a start and asked, “What government post does he occupy?”

“He was a judge of Xuande Prefecture, but he’s passed away.”

“Who was he to you?

“He was my father.”

“So you’re the young master! Do you remember your childhood pet name?”

“Yes. Xingge.”

“You’re indeed my young master!”

He sat Young Master Cui down, dropped to his knees and kowtowed, and then asked, “When did my old master pass away?

“Three years ago.”

The headman immediately put a table and chair together to form an improvised shrine, wrote Mr. Cui Senior’s name on a tablet, erected the tablet on the table, prostrated himself on the floor, and began to cry. (MC: A man hard to come by.) After he had his cry, he asked, “What brought you here today, Young Master?”

“My father had betrothed me to Xingniang, daughter of Commissioner Wu …”

The headman interrupted him and said, “Yes, I know that. So, are you married now?”

“As it turned out, Xingniang of the Wu family fell ill from disappointment that my family sent no word. When I arrived at the Wu residence, she had already been dead for two months. Commissioner Wu asked me to stay on at his home because of the previous engagement. To my delight, his younger daughter, Qingniang, was nice to me out of regard for her sister, and we became husband and wife on the quiet. We’re afraid of being found out, so we need a place to call our own. But I have nowhere to go for help. I remember my father used to say that you’re a man of honor and loyalty (MC: He was indeed a loyal servant. But what if he happens to be a heartless man and rejects Cui?) and that you live in Lücheng. That’s why I came here with Qingniang. Since you still remember your old master, would you please help us?”

After hearing him out, Headman Jin said, “Of course I will! This old servant is duty bound to relieve the young master’s worries!” Thereupon, he went inside and brought out his wife, so that she could greet the young master. Then he told her to take her maidservants and follow Mr. Cui to the wharf to bring the young master’s wife home. Mr. and Mrs. Jin personally cleaned the main room, made the bed, and hung the bed curtains, with all the respect due a master. (MC: Such loyalty is rare.) With clothes and food in ample supply, the young couple laid their worries to rest and felt quite at home.

When they had lived there for almost a year, the young woman said to Cui, “You and I may feel quite at home here, but it’s not right for me to be separated forever from my parents, to whom I owe my life. I can’t reconcile that with my conscience, and there’s no future in living like this.”

“Things having already come to this, what’s the use of such talk? We can’t very well go back to face them, can we?”

“Well, we did what we did in the heat of the moment. If we’d been caught in what we were doing, my parents would surely have come down hard on us, and we might have had to stop seeing each other. If we wanted to be together forever, elopement was the only choice. But now, one year has flashed by. I suppose all parents love their children. My disappearance must have been heart-wrenching for my parents. If I go back with you, my parents will surely be happy to see us and will forgive us. That’s only to be expected. Why don’t we brazen it out and go back to see them? What can be wrong with that?”

“A man should travel the length and breadth of the land. It’s indeed no long-term solution to be holed up here. If such is your wish, I’ll be happy to oblige you, even if my father-in-law punishes me. Since we’ve been husband and wife for a year and your family has always enjoyed high repute, I don’t think they’ll break us up and marry you to someone else. Besides, my betrothal with your sister was never fulfilled, so it’s only right to renew the marriage alliance. As long as we watch our every move, I don’t think we’ll come to harm.”

Having thus made up their minds, they asked Jin Rong to engage a boat for them. After taking leave of Jin Rong, they set out on their journey. They crossed the river, passed Guazhou, and arrived in Yangzhou. When they were approaching the Wu residence, the girl said to Cui, “Let’s stop the boat here rather than right at the gate. I have something to say to you.”

After telling the boatman to stop at this point, Cui asked her, “What more do you have to say to me?”

“You and I have been living away from home for a year, and everything will be all right if we’re forgiven when we both show our faces there all of a sudden. But if they explode in anger, things may get out of hand. It would be better if you went first and watched their reactions. After you give them your explanation and it looks like they’re ready to relent and won’t change their minds, they can come and take me home. Won’t that soften the blow?” (MC: Why do it in such a roundabout way?) And I’ll be spared the humiliation. I’ll wait here to hear from you.”

“You do have a point. All right, I’ll go first.” So saying, he jumped ashore.

Before he took another step, the young woman summoned him back with a wave of her hand and added, “There’s something else. It’s quite a scandal for a woman to elope with a man. There’s a possibility that my parents will deny that this ever happened, so as to avoid a scandal. You must be prepared.” With that, she took the gold phoenix-shaped hairpin from her head (MC: Good detail.) and gave it to him, saying, “If they’re evasive, show them this, and they won’t be able to deny their way out of it.”

“What a meticulous person you are!” exclaimed Cui. (MC: He submits completely to her!) He took the hairpin, slipped it into his sleeve, and headed for Commissioner Wu’s residence.

When he was in the reception hall and a servant announced him, the commissioner was overwhelmed with joy on hearing that he was there. Before Cui had a chance to speak, Commissioner Wu burst into apologies: “I’m to blame. I failed to take good care of you and make your stay comfortable. Out of regard for your late father, please don’t hold it against me!”

Cui prostrated himself on the ground, not daring to look up or speak the truth. With one kowtow after another, he confined himself to saying, “Your son-in-law deserves ten thousand deaths!”

Alarmed, the commissioner said, “What have you done to deserve death? Why do you say such a thing? Come on! Tell me what it is, so that I won’t worry!”

“Father-in-law, only if you forgive me would I dare tell you the truth.”

“Say whatever is on your mind! You’re like one of our own. Why even hesitate?”

By now, Cui was convinced that the commissioner was pleased to see him, so he said, “Your daughter Qingniang did not find me beneath her, and we formed a secret liaison. I’m guilty of improper carnal pleasures and sentimental ties, and of dishonesty and illicit relations. Frightened by the gravity of my offenses, I could not do otherwise than elope with her under cover of night and go into hiding in a village. In the year that has gone by, we’ve had no communication with you. However deep the love between husband and wife, parental love should never be forgotten. Today, your daughter and I came here in order to implore that, considering the deep love between us, you’d forgive our trespasses and permit us to fulfill our wish of living as husband and wife, so that you, my father-in-law, will still have a daughter to cherish and I’ll be able to enjoy the bliss of a happy family. What great fortune that will be! Please have pity, my father-in-law!”

The commissioner was greatly taken aback. “What are you saying, young man? My younger daughter, Qingniang, has been confined to her sickbed for a year now. She hardly eats and drinks and can’t move without help. She never even gets out of bed. I don’t understand a word of what you said. Can you be seeing a ghost?” (MC: He was not far off the mark.)

On hearing this, Cui thought, “What insight Qingniang has! He’s indeed afraid that we’ll bring disgrace to the family and invents the story that she’s ill in bed, so as to pull the wool over the eyes of outsiders.” Aloud, he said to the commissioner, “How could I dream of telling a lie! Qingniang is now in the boat. Please send someone to bring her here, and you’ll know.”

With a scornful smile, Commissioner Wu said to a page boy, “Go to Mr. Cui’s boat and take a look at the woman who’s claiming to be my daughter!”

The page boy went to the boat but did not see a soul in the cabin. He asked the boatman, who was eating a meal, hunched over his bowl at the stem of the boat, “Where did the people in your boat go?”

The boatman replied, “The scholar went onshore and left a young woman behind. I just saw her also go onshore.”

So the page boy returned home and reported to his master, “I didn’t see anyone in the boat. I asked the boatman, and he said that a young woman went onshore, but I didn’t see any sign of her.”

Believing that he had caught Cui in a lie, Commissioner Wu flew into a rage. “Young man, be honest,” said he. “What made you cook up such an evil lie to drag a good girl’s name through the mud?”

Exasperated by this remark, Cui frantically extracted the phoenix-shaped gold hairpin from his sleeve and handed it to the commissioner, saying, “This belongs to your daughter Qingniang. Isn’t this enough proof that I didn’t make things up?”

The commissioner took it, examined it, and said in astonishment, “This is the hairpin that was put in my deceased daughter Xingniang’s hair at her burial. It’s been quite some time. How did it end up in your hands? How very strange!”

Thereupon, Cui gave him a detailed account of how he had found the hairpin under Qingniang’s sedan-chair when she returned from her sister’s grave the year before, how Qingniang had visited him one night when searching for the hairpin, how they had become man and wife, how, afraid of being found out, they had eloped to the home of Jin Rong, an old servant of his, and how, after staying there for one year, they had decided to come back together.

Aghast, Commissioner Wu said, “But Qingniang is in her sickbed at this very moment. If you don’t believe it, go see for yourself. The way you invented all these details! But how did this hairpin come out of the grave? That’s a mystery!”

Taking Cui’s hand, he led the young man to see the patient and make an identification.

Now, let us turn to Qingniang. She had indeed been bedridden all this time, unable to get out of bed. That day, when her father was being assailed with doubts as he questioned Cui in the reception hall outside, Qingniang sat bolt upright, got out of bed, and ran into the reception hall. Quite stunned at the sight, the servants followed behind, along with Mrs. Wu, clamoring, “She hasn’t been able to move about for so long. How did she manage to get on her feet all of a sudden?”

In front of everyone’s eyes, Qingniang entered the hall and bowed to her father. All amazement, Commissioner Wu asked, “When did you get up?”

Cui believed she had entered the house from the boat, but he kept this thought to himself and waited to hear what she had to say.

Qingniang said to her father, “I’m Xingniang. I left you and mother long ago and was buried in the weed-grown outskirts of the town. But my bond with Mr. Cui didn’t end. My visit here today is for no other purpose than to do Mr. Cui a favor by marrying my beloved sister, Qingniang, to him. If my proposal is accepted, my sister will immediately regain her health, but if not, my sister will die after I’m gone.” (MC: This is blackmail.)

Everyone was appalled. Her body and face were Qingniang’s, but her voice and the way she carried herself were unmistakably Xingniang’s. Everyone realized that Xingniang’s soul had attached itself to her sister’s body and was speaking through her mouth.

Sternly, the commissioner scolded her, “You’re dead. How can you wreak such havoc in the human world and lead mortal beings astray?”

In the voice of Xingniang, as before, Qingniang said, “When I went to the netherworld after I died, the judge of the netherworld declared that I was innocent of any crime and therefore not subject to imprisonment. I was assigned to the service of the Queen of Earth, to be in charge of correspondence. Since my ties with the mortal world had not come to an end, I asked the queen for one year’s leave in order to fulfill my conjugal bond with Mr. Cui. My sister has been ill because I’ve been using her life essence in my liaisons with Mr. Cui. Now that my allotted time has expired, I must go, but I can’t leave Mr. Cui behind as a lonely man and henceforth a stranger to my family. (MC: A woman with a heart.) I’m here for the express purpose of asking Father and Mother for permission to marry Sister to him and continue the marriage bond. I’ll then be able to put my mind at ease in the netherworld.”

Moved by her plaintive entreaty, Mr. and Mrs. Wu granted her wish, saying, “Don’t worry, child! We’ll do as you say and marry Qingniang to him.”

Xingniang broke into a delighted smile as she heard her parents’ promise. With a thankful bow to her father, she said, “I’m ever so grateful to Father and Mother for granting my wish. I don’t have any more worries, and I bid you farewell.”

She then walked up to Cui, took his hand, and said with a sob, “After living with you for a year in conjugal love, I bid you farewell forever. My parents have granted my wish for Qingniang to marry you. Be a good husband, but don’t forget me in your happy life with my sister.” With that, she broke down in violent sobs.

Having learned through her explanations that he had been living with Xingniang’s soul, he was consumed with grief on hearing these words of counsel. However, in the presence of so many people, he could not show his affection because the body was all too clearly Qingniang’s. (MC: He dares not offend the new one as well as the old one.)

After finishing these parting instructions, Xingniang’s soul let out a few wails of grief, and Qingniang suddenly fell to the floor. When everyone went to check on her in consternation, there was already no breath coming out of her mouth. But since her chest still was warm to the touch, they forced ginger soup down her throat. When she came to about two hours later, she had fully regained her health, and her movements were normal. When asked about what had just happened, she professed total ignorance. When her eyes happened to rest on Cui among the crowd, she quickly covered her face and rushed inside through the middle gate. Feeling as if he had just awoken from a dream, Cui stood aghast for a considerable while before he recovered his wits.

Commissioner Wu chose an auspicious day and married Qingniang to Cui. On their wedding night, Cui, having lived with Qingniang for so long, felt quite at ease, whereas Qingniang, who found him quite a stranger, was bashful. Truly,

She, in her sheltered life,

Had never talked with the bridegroom.

He, a family friend and a lodger in the house,

Had lived with the beauty for a year.

He found the voice beside his ear a little different,

But the face was the same.

She found everything a first-time experience

And was in the grip of fear.

In a dream of butterflies, he sought an old friend;

On the crab-apple tree, she found new red petals.

On their wedding night, Cui found that Qingniang was still a virgin. Gently, he asked, “Your sister lived with me for one year in your body, so why were you still a virgin?”

Displeased, Qingniang said, “You were intimate with my sister’s ghost, not with me. Leave me out of it!”

“But if your sister had not been a woman of such tender feelings, how would it have been possible for our marriage to take place? We must not forget the favor she did us.”

“That’s quite true. If she hadn’t come to explain herself and bring about our marriage but continued to use my name and put me to shame, how would I have been able to hold my head up again? And you would have been convinced that I was the one who eloped with you. Wouldn’t I have died from the shame of it all? But now, to her credit, she brought you and me together, which goes to show the depth of her devotion.”

The next day, out of gratitude to Xingniang, Cui wanted to hold a prayer service for her, but without any money on him, he was obliged to sell the phoenix-shaped gold hairpin at the market (MC: How could he find it in his heart to sell this hairpin? How sad! How painful!) and got bills worth twenty ingots of silver for it. Thus equipped, he bought a liberal amount of incense sticks, candles, and sacrificial paper money and engaged the priests of Qionghua Temple in a prayer service that lasted three days and three nights, to thank Xingniang for her kindness.

After the prayer service was over, Cui saw in a dream a woman coming toward him. He thought she was a stranger, but the woman said to him, “I’m Xingniang. You don’t recognize me because I assumed my sister’s form while my soul lived with you for a year. I now appear to you as myself only because you’re already married to my sister.” She bowed deeply in gratitude before she continued, “I thank you for this prayer service, which shows that you still have feelings for me. Though we’re in different worlds, I’m profoundly grateful. My sister, Qingniang, is of a very gentle nature. Please take good care of her. I shall not return.”

Cui woke with a start and found himself sobbing. Qingniang, beside the pillow, asked him what had happened. After he told her about his dream in detail, she asked, “What did she look like?” Whereupon Cui gave her a full description of her appearance. “That was indeed my sister,” said Qingniang, and she also broke down in tears. Then she asked Cui about everything in Xingniang’s yearlong life with him, and every one of his answers tallied with Qingniang’s memory of her sister.

As they marveled at those extraordinary happenings, they found each other’s company even more congenial with this additional bond between them. Henceforth, Xingniang did not make her presence felt in any way. It bears pointing out that Xingniang’s doings had been motivated by her love for Cui, and she withdrew from his life once her wish had been fulfilled. From that time onward, Cui and Qingniang paid their respects at her grave every year. Later, after Cui assumed a government post, he obtained a title for Xingniang as his ex-wife, and, by his last will and testament, the remains of all three were buried in the same grave. What follows is a quatrain about this story:

The older sister’s soul,

The younger sister’s body.

A perfect union it was:

All three were as one.