20

Li Kerang Sends a Blank Letter

Liu Yuanpu Begets Two Precious Sons

As the poem says,

Duke Pei once brought about a blissful union;1

Fan Shi gained a lasting name by aiding a funeral.2

Far too few are men of such generosity;

Pin no such hope on everyone with wealth and rank.

The above quatrain makes the point that in this world of ours, those who help further enrich the wealthy far outnumber those who donate to the needy. This is why the philosophical say, “All too many rush to add flowers to the brocade; all too few offer help with charcoal on snowy days.” This comment speaks volumes about the ways of the world. Those who admire the wealthy and the powerful flock to them as if, in idiomatic sayings, “sailing before the wind” or “flying like pigeons to where the rich families live.” Such behavior is taken for granted when monetary gain or personal interests are at stake. When it comes to marriage alliances for one’s children, members of the royalty, if hungry for money, would gladly enter into a match with a beggar chief in spite of his lowly status. On the other hand, those of distinguished lineage, once reduced to poverty, may be spurned by a mere local headman. A modicum of power and a couple of strings of cash are enough to make one look down on others who are less fortunate. As for those who are of exalted status but help people in need or reach deep into their own pockets and go to great lengths to bring off a match for others, such cases are all too rare, past or present. In the unseen world, the lord of heaven surely misses nothing. In point of fact, the relationship between husband and wife is of paramount importance. It is something that calls for a good deal of thinking, and retribution for vice or virtue in marriage is all too clearly in evidence. It must never be taken as child’s play and messed around with. One remark may bring about a marriage, and by the same token, one written note may break up a long-standing marriage. Even if the parties involved have no inkling as to the causes, the operations of karma never fail.

Let me tell of a farmer Sun, who lived in Changzhou in the Nanjing region. At age fifty, he took a young second wife. His deceased first wife left him a son and a daughter-in-law who were very dutiful and unquestioningly believed every word that the father and his new wife said, whether true or false. The old man and the son worked the fields every day to provide for the family. The two women stayed at home weaving in order to make a living.

There was one strange thing: The mother-in-law was in her thirties but still had not learned the right moral values. As they say, only when a woman is dead and buried will her desires fade away. Displeased that the old man was a family man not much interested in frivolity, she got involved in a few clandestine affairs, and her indiscretions were not lost on the daughter-in-law. But the daughter-in-law was an honest and hardworking woman determined to do her duty by her parents-in-law. Far be it from her to catch her mother-in-law in wrongdoing. So one had a clear conscience, but the other had secrets to guard. Every time her daughter-in-law happened to cross her path in one of her acts of lewdness, the mother-in-law felt nervous and awkward and afraid that rumors would reach the ears of her husband and his son. Turning the tables on her daughter-in-law, she began to speak ill of her to her husband. As the saying goes, “Complaints made on the pillow are most effective.” The old man believed her lies and lashed out at his son several times, heaping shame and scorn on his head. The filial son was puzzled by the invective, and sharp words began to be exchanged between him and his wife until there was no more domestic peace to be had.

Gentle reader, mark this: A one-husband-one-wife marriage with no change of partner is the most proper relationship, in which neither husband nor wife will stoop to playing petty-minded tricks. A young wife married to an older widower is the most vicious, crafty, and short-sighted kind of woman. Either she has been married before, maybe more than once or she is from a low-class background, a loser in the market of marriage candidates. Along with fallen women and women cast off by their husbands, she uses her cunning to please or ruffle tempers, and to engage men’s hearts until they take her word as law. With the exception of women of high moral integrity, women take delight in you-know-what, but men begin to lose their energy after they hit middle age, and those who take on young wives are mostly men of mature years, a lot older than their new wives. When an aging man takes a pretty young thing for a wife, he may be able to offer her all his wealth for her enjoyment, but he may fail to perform when it comes to you-know-what. (MC: This strikes right to the heart of the matter.) Feeling apologetic, he does her bidding in spite of all her faults. Such women, therefore, wreak havoc on otherwise peaceful families.

But I digress. Let me pick up a different thread of that story and tell of a scholar who lived in Wujiang [south of Suzhou]. Xiao Wangbin by name, he was steeped in learning and wielded a dexterous pen. Of scanty means, he made a living by tutoring the children of a family that lived near his house and left home early and returned late. Next to his employer’s house was a wineshop owned by a Mr. Xiong Jingxi. In the front of the store was a small shrine in honor of the Five Wutong Gods.3 With his frequent visits to his employer’s house, Scholar Xiao was on familiar terms with the owner. One night, the owner, Mr. Xiong, had a dream in which the five gods said to him, “We feel very much ill at ease, witnessing Number One Scholar Xiao visit this shop day in and day out. You may want to build a low fence to block him from us.”

On waking, Mr. Xiong thought, “What a strange dream that was! What Number One Scholar Xiao were they talking about? Could it be Scholar Xiao who teaches next door? Can a poor man like him win first place on the national-level civil service exams?” Bewildered, he thought further, “But he’s the only Xiao I know. As they say, ‘Don’t judge a person by his appearance; don’t measure the sea with a dipper.’ Since this is advice from the gods, it is better to believe than not to believe.”

After getting up the next day, he did indeed erect a low fence in front of the shrine to shield the gods, but he did not tell anyone why he did so. We shall drop this thread of the story for the moment.

A few days later, Scholar Xiao went to Changzhou to visit his family. While passing a village house, he saw a crowd raising a clamor. As he thrust his way into the crowd for a look, people pointed at him and said, “Here comes a gentleman who looks like a scholar! What good timing! Let’s ask this gentleman to do this for us, to spare us the trouble of finding a schoolteacher.” Eagerly, they offered Scholar Xiao a seat and, handing him a sheet of paper and a brush pen, said, “Please write this down for us. We’ll pay you, of course.”

“What do you want me to write? Please explain.”

At this point, an old man and a young man stepped up. The old man said, “Sir, we live in this village. Our surname is Sun. We’re father and son, living together with my wife and my daughter-in-law. The daughter-in-law has fallen into bad ways and picks quarrels with the mother-in-law all day. The two of us men have to work to provide for the family, and we spend little time at home all year-round, so we don’t want to keep that source of trouble at home. We’d like to send her back to her parents today, so that she can marry someone else. Everyone present is a local resident and a witness. We’d like to draw up a divorce paper, but no one in our village can write. Now, you look like a scholar. Since you happen to be passing by, please write it for us.”

“I see,” said Scholar Xiao. “What’s so difficult about that?” (IC: It will turn out not to be easy.)

In a moment of bravado, he wrote a statement of divorce with one sweep of the writing brush and handed it to the father and son. When they offered him five maces of silver by way of payment for his services, he laughed and said, “These few lines are worth nothing! I can’t take payment from you!” He turned down the silver time and again, and, with a flick of his long sleeves, he left the crowd and went his way.

The two men gave the divorce paper to the daughter-in-law. Having served dutifully as the daughter-in-law for three or four years, the poor woman was now being sent away for no reason. Filled with resentment, she seized her husband and burst into loud wails of grief. (MC: This is enough to establish Scholar Xiao’s guilt.) Refusing to let go of him, she said, “I honestly have never done you any wrong, but you take one person’s word against mine and demand a divorce. If I can’t defend myself while alive, I’ll surely get the facts straightened out after I become a ghost. I won’t be able to see you for the rest of my life, but I’ll never forget you, not even in death.”

Everyone present was moved to tears. Her husband was also distraught and could not hold back his tears. The mother-in-law was afraid that the son would change his mind, so she and the old man promptly pulled the hands of the young couple apart and pushed the daughter-in-law out the door. (MC: How ruthless!) In resignation, the daughter-in-law went off, her face wet with tears. Of her, no more.

Let us go back to Mr. Xiong, owner of the wineshop. Again, he had a dream in which the gods appeared to him and said, “Quickly tear down that fence for us! It’s suffocating!”

“But you told me only the other day to build the fence. Why tear it down so soon?”

“We told you the other day to build it in order to block out Scholar Xiao, who was often here. We felt ill at ease because he was destined to win first place on the exams in the future. Then he wrote a statement of divorce for someone on a certain day of a certain month and helped break up a marriage. For this, the lord of heaven demoted him, to a rank lower than ours. Since he no longer poses any threat to us, the fence can be torn down now.”

Before he could ask further questions, Mr. Xiong woke up with a start. He thought, “How very strange! This is unbelievable! Let me ask Scholar Xiao tomorrow if he’s written a divorce statement or not. Then I’ll know the truth.”

The next day, while he was tearing down the fence as instructed, Scholar Xiao happened to saunter in. Mr. Xiong went up to him and said, “I have something to say to you, sir. Please come inside with me.”

Once they were in an inner room, they sat down, and tea was served. Mr. Xiong asked, “Did you write a statement of divorce for someone on a certain day of a certain month?”

The scholar thought for a while and replied, “Yes, I did. But how did you know?” Whereupon Mr. Xiong told him about the gods’ words in both of his dreams. After hearing him out, the scholar was dumbfounded. His eyes glazed over; his mouth dropped open. Remorse swept over him. Later, he did indeed pass the imperial examinations, but only at the provincial level and never rose above the position of a subprefectural magistrate. Because of one inadvertent misjudgment made on the spur of the moment, Scholar Xiao lost his title as number one scholar at the national-level exams. One must use discretion in everything one does. A poem puts it well:

Busybodies know not what their doings may lead to;

When first starting out, think of how it will all end.

A small move may have a far-reaching impact;

Once caught in the cosmic net, regrets are too late.

Now that we have seen how one who breaks up a marriage will suffer, it follows that one who brings about a match will be richly favored by fortune. This leads me to my next story, one about a distinguished gentleman of an earlier dynasty who treated several strangers from other places as his own flesh and blood and brought about a few marriages, offered succor to orphans and widows, and gave the remains of the dead proper burials. The credit he accumulated in the unseen world did not end with his help in bringing about marriages, which was why he was blessed with heavenly favors that were quite exceptional.

Our story takes place in the reign of Emperor Zhenzong [r. 998–1022] of the Song dynasty. In Luoyang County of Xijing [the Western Capital], there lived a gentleman named Liu Hongjing, courtesy name Yuanpu, who retired at age sixty from his post as prefect of Qingzhou and returned to his hometown. His wife having passed away, he took on a second wife, Wang-shi, who was not yet forty years old. (MC: Another case of a second marriage. The difference is in the worth of the wife or the lack of it.) Without children of his own, he entrusted his wife’s nephew, Wang Wenyong, with the management of his vast wealth, including all the landed estates and shops. He himself devoted his time to charity work, fighting injustice and helping the poor. He offered aid to goodness knows how many people, scattering his money about as if it were dust. His name spread far and wide, but his lack of children preyed on his mind day and night.

When the Clear and Bright Festival rolled around, Liu Yuanpu instructed Wang Wenyong to prepare sacrificial offerings and libation wine for a visit to the family graveyard.4 He and his wife, each in a small sedan-chair, went to the graveyard, followed by servants. After the libations were poured, Yuanpu prostrated himself in front of the grave and intoned the following lines:

How sad that this old man remains childless,

Guilty of the first unfilial offense!

Since few ever live beyond seventy,

I will soon depart from the mortal world.

Today my wife and I bow to the grave,

But who will perform these duties in the future? (MC: Pitiable.)

I grieve not for my forlorn, childless old age

But for the end of a long line of offerings.

Heaven is too high and far away;

Clansmen are the ones to pity and love.

With these words, my tears almost run dry;

Where, oh where, might my dear ancestors be?

At this point, Liu Yuanpu burst into loud sobs. Everyone around him was also distraught with grief. Lady Wang, a most virtuous woman, wiped away her tears and said soothingly, “Don’t feel so sad. You may be getting on in years, but you’re still going strong. Since I’m barren, you should take a young concubine. You may still have children. Indulging in grief doesn’t get you anywhere.”

On hearing these words, Liu Yuanpu forced back his tears and told the servants to escort his wife home by sedan-chair, whereas he himself took only a page boy and followed slowly behind on foot, to divert his mind.

He was drawing near his home when he ran into a Daoist holding a tablet that bore the words “Divine Revelations.” Realizing that the man was a fortune-teller, Yuanpu invited him home, meaning to ask him about his chances of having children. After they finished drinking tea, Yuanpu sat up stiffly so that the fortune-teller could examine his physiognomy. After a careful survey, the fortune-teller said, without mincing words, “Judging by your complexion, I think that you’ll not only remain childless but also meet your end soon.”

Yuanpu said, “I’m going on seventy. Death won’t be premature in my case. And at my age, wishing for children is like trying to lift the moon out of the water. Looking back on my life, I see I may not have done great virtuous deeds, but I’ve devoted myself for many years to helping the poor and the weak. I wonder what sins I’m guilty of, to deserve an end to my family line?”

The fortune-teller replied with a smile, “You’ve got it wrong, sir. As the ancients put it, ‘Complaints against the rich abound.’ With your vast wealth, it’s quite impossible for you to attend to every detail. Those managers of yours care only about lining their own pockets rather than upholding justice. They give short weight and short measure and devise a hundred ways to exploit by usury, thus giving rise to a great deal of resentment from the little people. You may have done much charity work, but your demerits offset your merits. You therefore do not qualify for heavenly blessings. But if you put an end to the abuses and expand the reach of your charitable work, you’ll easily be blessed with happiness, longevity, and sons.”

Yuanpu listened in silence. After that speech, the fortune-teller rose and, without accepting payment, departed with the floating lightness of an immortal.

Realizing that he was no ordinary man, Yuanpu was deeply convinced of the truth of his words. So he took out the account books for his landed estates and shops and checked them one by one. Then he quietly visited the shops and the villages, making inquiries all around, in order to establish the facts. He issued warnings to all his managers and even chided his wife’s nephew, Wang Wenyong. Henceforth, he threw himself with greater enthusiasm into works of charity.

Let me now tell of a thirty-six-year-old scholar named Li Xun, courtesy name Kerang, who lived in Bianjing [present-day Kaifeng, He’nan]. His wife, Zhang-shi, bore him a son, Li Yanqing, nickname Chunlang, now seventeen years old. They were natives of Western Yue [in present-day Guangxi] and, being impoverished and so far removed from the capital city, had been unable to go take the civil service examinations. It was only several years earlier that Li Kerang had taken his wife and son on a journey to the capital, where they stayed on, and, to his great joy, he passed the examinations held that year and was assigned to be magistrate of Qiantang County [in present-day Zhejiang]. On a chosen auspicious day, the family set out for his duty station. The sight of lakes and hills that could just as easily have been in a fairyland gladdened his heart. But fate was against the poor scholar. Less than one month into his term of office, he was struck down by a fatal illness that confined him to his bed. Truly,

Bitter frost descends on grass already rootless;

Disasters hit those already luckless.

Zhang-shi and Chunlang engaged physicians for treatment, but nothing worked, and it looked like he was at death’s door.

One day, Li Kerang called his wife to his bedside and said to her, “Having passed the exams after spending a lifetime laboring at my studies, I’ll die without regrets. But without a home, without relatives to turn to, what will happen to the widow and orphan I leave behind? How sad! How pitiable!” With that, he burst into tears. As his wife and son tried to calm him down, he thought, “I’ve long heard that Liu Yuanpu of Luoyang is known throughout the empire as a righteous and generous man who helps everyone who appeals to him, strangers or not. Why don’t I commit my wife and son to his charge?”

Aloud, he said, “Wife, help me sit up.” Then he told his son to bring him his writing implements. He was about to lift his writing brush when he stopped in a torment of indecision. “I’m a total stranger to him,” he thought. “How am I going to compose this letter without including some small talk?” But in a flash, an idea came to him. He sent his wife and son away, telling them to fetch warm water. By the time they came back with what he had asked for, he had already sealed his letter tightly. On the envelope was written “To Luoyang: For the eyes of my kind brother Liu Yuanpu only—from your unworthy younger brother Li Xun.” (MC: What an extraordinary man!) He handed it to his wife and son and said, “I have a sworn brother Liu Yuanpu, former prefect of Qingzhou, who’s a native of Luoyang. A man of the utmost loyalty and honor, he’ll surely help you, mother and son. Take my letter to him and put yourselves under his protection. He won’t turn you down.” Turning to his son, he continued, “Pay Uncle Liu proper respects and tell him that I regret not being able to see him before I die.” To his wife, he added, “After twenty years of a loving marriage, I now bid you farewell. If Prefect Liu keeps you two, you must be discreet in your relationship with him and be sure to give our son a proper education until he makes a name for himself, so as to succeed where I’ve failed. You’re already two months pregnant. If the baby is a son, make him a scholar like me. If it’s a daughter, wait until she grows up and marry her to a good man. I’ll then be able to rest in peace.” Turning again to Chunlang, he went on, “You must treat Uncle Liu as your father and Auntie Liu as your mother. You must also be a dutiful son to your own mother and devote yourself to your studies so as to make your mark in the world. If so, I’ll be able to live on in spirit. If you don’t do as I say, I won’t rest easy in my grave.” After the mother and son tearfully promised to do as he wished, he continued, “After I die, deposit my coffin in Fuqiu Monastery for a while. After you go to Uncle Liu for help, you can take your time making arrangements for burial. Just bury the coffin locally. There’s no need to escort it back to Western Yue.”

Having said all that, he felt a tightness in the chest and cried out, “O Heaven! Am I to understand that I, Li Xun, in my poverty, cannot even finish my term of office as a county magistrate?” (MC: If he hadn’t been poor, he would probably have been destined for greatness. Heaven has never been other than snobbish.) With that, he fell back in bed and failed to respond when his name was called. Truly,

By imperial grace he took up his post with wife and son happily in tow.

Little did they know that his life span would soon be over.

Grieve not over Mr. Li’s early death;

He outlived Yan Hui by four full years.5

Zhang-shi and Chunlang cried until they fainted. On coming to, Zhang-shi said, “What wretchedness we are left in—a widow and a fatherless son! If Mr. Liu refuses to take us, what are we going to do?”

“We have no other option than to fulfill Father’s last wishes,” said Chunlang. “Father was an excellent judge of character. (MC: Yes, indeed.) Perhaps Uncle is a good man.”

Zhang-shi checked the family possessions but found no cash left in the house. The fact was that Li Kerang, a scrupulously honest man, had been living in grinding poverty and had been less than a month into his term of office. Payments for his medicine had exhausted what little salary he had received. Thanks to help from his colleagues, a coffin was bought. After the corpse was lowered into it, it was deposited in the yamen. Mother and son kept tearful vigil at its side until the end of the forty-nine-day mourning period. Per Mr. Li’s deathbed instructions, the coffin was carried to Fuqiu Monastery and deposited there. Mother and son put together their few belongings and what little travel money they had and, taking Mr. Li’s will with them, set out on a journey to Luoyang County, eating and drinking only when hunger and thirst compelled them and traveling by day and resting by night.

Now, back to Liu Yuanpu. One day, he was idly leafing through his collection of ancient books when the gatekeeper announced, “A mother and a son are at the gate, saying that they’re natives of Western Yue and are close relatives of yours, Master. They have a letter with them.”

Yuanpu wondered to himself, “Do I have relatives from that far-flung part of the country?” But he ordered that they be brought into his presence. After the obligatory exchange of greetings, Yuanpu said, “This old man does not seem to recall where we met before. Please enlighten me.”

Li Chunlang replied, “As a matter of fact, my mother and I never met you before, but my departed father was a close friend of yours, Uncle.”

When Yuanpu asked for his father’s name, Chunlang replied, “My father was Li Xun, courtesy name Kerang. My mother is Zhang-shi. I’m Yanqing, courtesy name Chunlang. We’re natives of Western Yue. My father went to the capital and stayed on in order to sit for the exams. Later, he won honors on the exams and was appointed magistrate of Qiantang County. He passed away one month later. On his deathbed, he felt sorry for leaving me and my mother to fend for ourselves, so he told us that I have an Uncle Liu in Luoyang, his sworn brother since childhood. And he instructed us to carry his letter and come here from his duty station to pay our respects to you after his passing. That’s why my mother and I are here, putting you to this inconvenience.”

This explanation confused Yuanpu. While he was at a loss for words, Chunlang presented him with the letter. The characters inscribed on the envelope further surprised him. Then he tore open the envelope, only to see a sheet of blank paper. Stunned into silence, he hunted through his mind for possible explanations, and all of a sudden, a light dawned on him. He said to himself, “That must be it! But I shouldn’t say this straight out. I’ll just make proper accommodations for the mother and son.” (MC: Who else would be willing to do this?)

Zhang-shi and her son mistook his silence for reluctance to accept them, little knowing that he was drawing up plans with the best of intentions.

Yuanpu put the letter away and said to the mother and son, “Brother Li was indeed a sworn brother of mine. I was hoping to see him and didn’t know that he had passed away. How sad! From now on, you, mother and son, will live here as my own flesh and blood.”

Having said that, he called forth his wife, Lady Wang, and explained to her who they were, and the two women began to address each other as sisters-in-law. Chunlang greeted Lady Wang as her nephew. A feast was then laid out in honor of the mother and son. At the dinner table, the conversation turned to the location of Mr. Li’s coffin. On learning that it was deposited in a monastery at Mr. Li’s duty station, Yuanpu pledged to take care of the burial. Lady Wang learned, in further conversation with Zhang-shi, that the latter was two months pregnant with Mr. Li’s posthumous child. With dinner over, the mother and son were led to the southern wing of the house to retire for the night. The rooms allotted to them were fully furnished, and a team of servants was put at their disposal. All three meals of the day were lavish affairs. The fact that they had been taken in had already exceeded the expectations of the mother and son. The effusive hospitality overwhelmed them.

After some time went by, Yuanpu grew to respect Chang-shi for her gentle disposition and Chunlang for his talent and brilliance as well as his discretion and prudence. In the meantime, he sent servants to bring Li Kerang’s coffin from Qiantang.

One day, Yuanpu was sitting idly with Lady Wang when he found himself in tears. In answer to Lady Wang’s solicitous question as to why, he replied, “From my observations of young Mr. Li’s appearance and his aspirations, I believe he’ll go far. If I had such a son, I could die without regrets. But I’m already over the hill and still without issue. This is what saddens me.”

“I did repeatedly urge you to take a concubine, but you never listened. Now I’m determined to find one for you, to give you a son.”

“Don’t say such things, wife! I may be old and rickety, but you’re not yet past your prime. If Heaven doesn’t mean to put an end to my family line, who’s to say you can’t have children? If the family line is destined to end with me, even an army of concubines won’t help.” (MC: He does take things philosophically.) With that, he went out.

But this time, Lady Wang was not to be shaken in her resolve to get her husband a concubine. Knowing that he would surely reject her plan if she were to consult him, she acted behind his back and told a servant to summon Madam Xue, a matchmaker. When Madam Xue came, she told her about the situation and added, “Don’t let on about any of this to Mr. Liu until we succeed. You must do your best to find one who is both virtuous and pretty. Perhaps only such a woman is likely to inspire love in the master.” (MC: What other wife would think in this way?)

Madam Xue promised to do her bidding and left. A few days later, she came back with several candidates, but none of them satisfied Lady Wang. Madam Xue said, “They’re the best candidates available in these parts. Good ones are to be found only in the capital, Bianliang, with its varied and teeming population.”

It so happened that her nephew Wang Wenyong was about to go to the capital on business, so Lady Wang secretly gave him a hundred taels of silver and asked Madam Xue to join him on the journey and search for a candidate. Since Madam Xue had another match to take care of in the capital, it worked out nicely on both accounts, and the two travelers started on their way. Of this, more later.

Let me now start another thread of the story. In Xiangfu County of Kaifeng Prefecture, Bianjing, there lived a jinshi Pei Xi, courtesy name Anqing, fifty years of age at this point in our narrative. He had a sixteen-year-old daughter, Lansun, by his now deceased wife, Zheng-shi. An only child, Lansun was an unrivaled beauty. Pei Anqing was promoted to prefect of Xiangyang after serving as a bureau director for several years. Someone said to him, “You’ve never enjoyed any of the comforts of life. Now, with this nice promotion, you can say good-bye to poverty and worry only about having more money than you can spend!”

“Where will the money come from, pray?” said Anqing with a smile. “I’ve seen any number of greedy and corrupt officials with itchy palms. People under their jurisdiction are fleeced until they sell their children and their wives so as to line the pockets of officials who are as rapacious as wolves. I’m appointed by the emperor to serve as a government official and a parent to the local population, not to harm them. Once I’m there, I’ll only be content with the plainest of the local fare. Poverty is a natural human condition. A government salary is enough to keep me from hunger and cold. I certainly have no wish to get rich!”

Determined to be a good official, Pei Anqing chose an auspicious day and set out with his daughter on the journey to assume his post. Before many days had passed, they arrived in Xiangyang. In half a year, the prefecture prospered and the people enjoyed peace, so much so that law enforcement departments had little to do. The locals made up a ditty that went,

To the Xiangyang yamen one day

Came the wise and good Prefect Pei.

Clerks of the six bureaus went to take naps;

Lictors and runners went to chop firewood.

Time sped by swiftly. The hot sixth lunar month of the year rolled around. One day, after eating lunch with his daughter Lansun in the suffocating heat, Anqing asked for some well water to cool himself. Promptly, well water was brought to him. He downed two full cups and urged his daughter to drink some. After taking a few sips, Lansun said, “Father, this is just plain water. Did you drink so much of it because you found it delicious?”

“What a thing to say! It will ruin any good luck that you may have! You and I are as fortunate as the immortals to be able to drink this water. How can you find it too plain for you?”

“Father, how will I ruin my luck? In such weather, descendants of the nobility eat iced lotus roots and melons and plums, and there’s nothing extravagant about that. But you, a prefect, take nothing but a cup of plain water and find it enjoyable. Aren’t you being too impractical?”

“My child, you should know better. Listen: Those descendants of the nobility flaunt their forefathers’ influence and spend their inheritances, knowing nothing about farming, and they don’t engage in any useful work. They pursue nothing but gratification and the good life. Little do they know that extreme joy begets sorrow. There will come a time when their horses die and their gold runs out. If it doesn’t turn out that way, it’s only because their fate dictates so. Your father comes from an impoverished family, and I have an imperial mandate to fulfill for the benefit of the people. You must not compare me with them. There are also people who, in this weather, are guarding the empire at the borders day and night, wearing heavy armor, holding lances and spears in their hands, and putting their lives on the line. There are also farmers with hoes in hand, merchants, and laborers who work their fingers to the bone in the fields and trudge on muddy roads, dripping with sweat that is mixed with rain. Plus they have to endure the heat of the sun right over their heads. Compared with them, isn’t your father as fortunate as an immortal? (MC: A man who keeps to his own lot in life this way shouldn’t be visited by calamities.) Then there are also those of a lower class, who have been convicted of a crime for a momentary lapse of morals. In prison, they’re flogged and shackled at the wrists and ankles. In this weather, they’re holed up in dark cells that never see the light of day. They don’t even have muddy water, let alone nice, cold water. It’s too painful for them to live on but too early to die. They’re also made of flesh and blood that their parents gave them. Don’t they feel pain? Don’t they itch? Why is it that only they can bear the misery? Compared with them, isn’t your father as fortunate as an immortal? There are still about two hundred convicts in the prefectural prison. I’d like to have their shackles removed and let them have a drink of chilled water once a day until autumn arrives.”

“Father, you mustn’t act rashly. Prisoners are no angels. If you go soft on them, you’ll be implicated if something bad happens.”

“I’m all kindness. Why would they betray me? (IC: It doesn’t necessarily work that way.) I’ll just tell the wardens to keep a tight watch over the gates.”

Something was destined to happen, and it was to lead to an outcome in which

Prisoners on death row escaped the net,

And tragedy befell the kind prefect.

The next day, in his court session, Anqing ordered the wardens to remove the prisoners’ shackles and serve them chilled water every day and to guard them with extra alertness. The wardens acknowledged the order and, that very day, released the prisoners from their shackles and gave them chilled water to drink. The wardens kept a tight watch over them without ever letting down their guard, but after about ten days, they began to relax.

In a trice, it was the first day of the seventh month. It was established custom in the prison to hold a prayer service for good luck on the first day of each month. That day, after sacrificial paper coins had been burned, all the wardens gathered to share the wine and food offerings. They started sometime in the afternoon, and by dusk, every one of them was stinking drunk.

At the first signs of weakened discipline, the prisoners had taken it into their heads to break out of prison. Some of them had their relatives and friends smuggle sharp objects into the prison and hid these on themselves. That day, with the wine taking its toll on the wardens, they seized the opportunity and put their plot into action. Before midnight, all two hundred or so convicts gave a rallying cry, sprang into action, and killed the wardens on duty. As they forced their way out through the prison gate, they cut down every warden who crossed their path. Those wardens who dived into the shadows heard the prisoners cry, “The prefect has been kind to us. Let’s spare him!” (IC: There is some fairness after all.) But they did hack their way to the yamen offices and made short work of a few junior officials. Since the city gate remained open at that hour in those times of peace and order, the convicts gave a roar and ran out of the city. Indeed,

The sea turtles broke free from the golden hooks,

Shook their heads, flicked their tails, and vanished for good.

The raucous hubbub came to Pei Anqing’s ears as he lay asleep. He woke up with a start and scrambled out of bed. In the next instant, someone came to report the situation to him. His three souls took leave of his body through the top of his head, and his seven spirits gave him the slip through the soles of his feet. He gave one cry of anguish after another and said with regret, “I got into this mess because I ignored Lansun’s advice. I had no idea my kindness was to be repaid with such cruel ingratitude!” Immediately, he called together members of the militia who then fanned out to hunt down the convicts. But it was like trying to search for a needle in the ocean. There was just no hope of finding even one of the men.

The very next day, the matter was reported to higher authorities. As was only to be expected, an impeachment memorandum was submitted to the emperor. In less than half a month, the document was delivered to the imperial court in the capital, and the emperor consulted court ministers about the case. If Pei Anqing had been a graft-hungry official bent on currying favor with his superiors, he might have found sympathetic ears in the court. (MC: Such are the ways of the world.) But he was a man of unbending integrity with an aversion to fawning over the powerful and influential. In addition, in his scrupulous honesty, he never took even one extra penny beyond his salary. Where was he to get hold of the money to grease the palms of the high and mighty? And so no one came forward to put in a good word for him. The consensus was that “Pei, as the prefect, must be held accountable for allowing convicts to break out of prison. Moreover, several junior officials were killed, and he was the only one spared. These questionable circumstances call for face-to-face interrogation.” The emperor approved the demand and promptly decreed that the Department of Justice bring Pei Anqing under guard to the capital city. Even if he had been as good a parent-official as Zhao Xinchen and Du Shi, Pei Anqing had no alternative but to lower his head and let himself be tied up, but he believed his good reputation as an official might help exonerate him to some degree.6 (MC: This was exactly what he should not have counted on.) He told Lansun to pack, and father and daughter, under guard, set out on the road.

In a matter of days, they arrived in the Eastern Capital [Kaifeng]. Pei Anqing’s old residence in the capital had been confiscated by imperial decree, and the few servants had fled in all directions, leaving him with no place to stay. Luckily, his deceased wife Lady Zheng had socialized with nuns of the Pure and True Convent. Thus, he managed to rent lodgings from them and moved in with Lansun. The next day, wearing a black gown and a small hat, he went with the guards to the imperial court to await the next imperial decree. When it came, the decree was that he be taken to the prison of the Court of Judicial Review to await interrogation, and the decree was executed without a moment’s delay.

Lansun saw no option but to bribe high and low with what little money she had so that she would be allowed to deliver messages as well as food and beverages to her father. As it turned out, his advanced age, his weak constitution, the shock, the maltreatment in prison, and the ceaseless worry combined to worsen his health until he was unable to take a bite of food or a drop of water. The money Lansun spent on bribes in order to deliver food to him went down the drain. One day, during Lansun’s visit to prison, he said to her, “I can hardly breathe. It will probably be all over with me today. It’s my kindness that led to this calamity and got you involved, my child. Although, by law, a parent’s crime should not implicate the children, you have no one to turn to for help after I die, so you’ll most likely end up being a bond servant.” At this point, Anqing felt as if his heart was being pierced by ten thousand arrows. He let out a few wails of grief and drew his last breath. He was, in fact, lucky that, with his death, he was spared the misery and humiliation of wearing a cangue and a bag over his head.7

Lansun stomped her feet and pounded her chest and cried until she fainted. She wanted to claim her father’s remains but was told that she was not authorized to do so, since her father was a criminal arrested by the imperial court. Recklessly, Lansun forced her way into the Court of Judicial Review and gave the presiding judge a tearful and moving account of what had led to the jailbreak. Fortunately, the presiding judge was a man with a sense of justice. Saddened by the circumstances of this case, he wrote a memorial to the imperial court, saying,

I, presiding judge of the Court of Judicial Review, found, after investigations, that Pei Xi, former prefect of Xiangyang, was a benevolent and hardworking official, albeit incompetent in guarding the prison. However, even though his lax rules deserve punishment by the imperial court, there is no evidence of disloyalty on his part. Now that he has died in prison, it is advisable to grant him leniency and have his remains sent back to his hometown for burial, to demonstrate the imperial court’s goodwill toward government officials. It is with great trepidation that your humble subject makes this submission.

Emperor Zhenzong, also of a kind disposition, was disinclined to be harsh to a dead man, and he approved the judge’s request. For Lansun, the news provided her with her only comfort in her distress. She bought a coffin with what money she had been left and had her father’s remains carried out of prison and put into the coffin. After she deposited the coffin at the Pure and True Convent, she offered sacrificial food and poured libations and again broke down in passionate weeping.

Pei Anqing had not brought much money to his duty station to begin with. By this time, nothing was left. Even though the coffin had been paid for, there was no money for burial expenses. Lansun searched her mind for a possible way out and said to herself, “My uncle Commissioner Zheng is now the regional commander of Xichuan and is at his duty station with his family. But the road to Xichuan is too long and formidable. There’s no way I can get help from him.” At her wit’s end, she decided to do what she would never have done in better circumstances. She wrote on a piece of paper the characters “Girl for Sale to Pay for Father’s Burial,” plastered it on a tablet, and, holding it in her hand, bowed four times in front of the coffin and prayed, “Father, while your spirit has not gone far, please help me find a good buyer.” Having said that, she rose and, with tears in her eyes and grief in her heart, swallowed the humiliation, took to the streets, and cried out for buyers. (MC: This was hard on her.) Pei Lansun, poor thing, had been a delicately brought up gentleman’s daughter prone to blushing in the presence of a stranger. Who would have foreseen that she would be reduced to parading herself around like this! Recalling her father’s last words, she was consumed with aching grief. Truly,

In nature, there are unexpected storms;

In life, there are unforeseen vicissitudes.

Born to a sorry fate,

She swallowed the humiliation.

The father died in chains,

Leaving his daughter sobbing on the streets.

Just like cuckoos that cough blood till they die from grief,

The poor girl was forsaken by Heaven.

But as another saying goes, “Heaven always leaves a door open.” Lansun was trying to sell herself when an old woman approached her on the street and, with a slight bow, asked, “Young lady, what makes you want to sell yourself ? And why do you look so sad?” Upon a closer look, the old woman gave a start and said, “Well, if this isn’t Young Mistress Pei! Why have you been reduced to this?” It turned out that the old woman was Madam Xue of Luoyang. When Lady Zheng was still alive, Madam Xue had often visited the Peis on her sojourns to the capital and therefore knew Lansun. Raising her head, Lansun recognized Madam Xue and took her to a secluded spot, where she tearfully told her what had happened.

Tears came easily to Madam Xue. On hearing the heart-wrenching details, Madam Xue also burst out in sobs. “What a tragedy for Master Pei!” she said. “You’re an official’s daughter. How can you be a bond servant? If you really have to sell yourself, with your looks, you can be a concubine rather than a servant.”

“For my father’s sake, I’m not afraid of even death, let alone being a servant!”

“Well, you have nothing to worry about. Prefect Liu of Luoyang County is getting on in years but is still without a son, so his wife, Lady Wang, asked me to get him a concubine. I’ve been looking around these parts for quite some time now without being able to find a suitable candidate. I’m now in the capital because a distinguished family in Luoyang asked me to offer a match to the prime minister’s family, and Lady Wang, taking advantage of this opportunity, gave her nephew Wang Wenyong money and sent him to join me on this trip to search for a candidate. It’s destiny that I should meet you here. Lady Wang wants someone both virtuous and good-looking. Now, you’re a beauty, second to none, and you’re trying to sell yourself so that you can bury your father, which is a remarkable act of filial piety. Ten to one you’ll make it! Prefect Liu is righteous and generous, and Lady Wang is most kind and gentle. Although you may be of a lower status once you join the family, you’ll get to enjoy soft living the rest of your life. What do you say?”

“I’m in your hands, madam. But because I’m bringing disgrace to my family by selling myself as a concubine, please be sure not to tell them the truth. Just present me as a girl from an ordinary family.”

Madam Xue nodded in assent and led the young lady to Wang Wenyong’s lodgings. While Madam Xue was telling him about Lansun, Wang Wenyong eyed the young lady standing some distance off and was impressed by her striking beauty. “My aunt will surely be satisfied with such a beauty,” said he. Verily,

Iron boots were worn out on a hunt for the right one,

But here she is; you need not have searched.

With a damsel in distress on one side and a wealthy family on the other, the deal was made quickly with no need for prolonged negotiations. Wang Wenyong weighed out one hundred taels of high-grade silver, gave all of it to Miss Pei, and asked her to set out on the journey with him. Lansun said, “I came here to sell myself in order to bury my father, so I must first take care of the burial before I can go.”

“Young lady,” said Madam Xue, “how can you take care of the burial when you’re all alone? Why don’t you wait until you’re in Luoyang? After your wedding ceremony, you can ask Prefect Liu to have his men take care of the burial. That will be so much easier.” Lansun felt obliged to agree. (MC: If so, what need for a hundred taels of silver?)

A responsible and capable man, Wenyong thought it prudent not to lose time on a matter as important as finding a concubine for his uncle-in-law. He instructed Madam Xue to be Lansun’s companion all along the way while he himself either went in front of them or brought up the rear. There being only four hundred li between the Eastern Capital and Luoyang, they arrived at the Liu residence in a matter of days. Wenyong went straight to the family pawnshop to take care of business there, while Madam Xue quietly took Lansun inside to greet Lady Wang. Raising her head, Lady Wang saw that

Unadorned with rouge or powder,

She glowed with natural beauty.

A light toilette sufficed

To restore her spotless purity.

She carried herself with ease and grace;

She spoke with a plaintive voice.

Her frown reminded one of Xishi

When that beauty first went to Wu.8

Her look of sorrow recalled Wang Qiang

When she left the court of the House of Han.9

Pity the lovely and chaste maiden,

Reduced to being a concubine!

Filled with delight, Lady Wang asked her name and ordered that a room be prepared for Lansun and a maidservant be put at the young lady’s disposal.

The next day, Lady Wang called her husband to her and said in a measured tone, “This old woman has something to say to you. Please don’t take it amiss.”

“Just say whatever you want to say. Don’t hold anything back!” said Liu Yuanpu.

“Husband, don’t you know the saying ‘Few ever live beyond seventy’? Now, you’re going on seventy. How many more years can you have ahead of you? Yet you have no children. As they say, ‘To be healthy is a blessing; to have a son is to be content.’ I’ve long been meaning to get you a concubine, but I’ve been biting my tongue, partly because I don’t want to say the wrong thing when you’re so strict about your principles and partly because I haven’t been able to find the right one. But now, I’ve got the daughter of a Mr. Pei of Bianjing. She’s in the flower of her youth and is both beautiful and talented. If you could accept her as a concubine, she may give you a son to carry on the Liu family line.”

“I was only afraid that I was fated to have no son, and I didn’t want to ruin a young woman’s life. (MC: This kind thought ensures the continuation of his family line.) I had no idea that you went to such lengths to do this! All right, you may call her in for me.”

Thereupon, Miss Pei Lansun emerged from her room and made a low obeisance. Liu Yuanpu said to himself, “Judging by her looks and the way she carries herself, I don’t think she’s of humble background.” Aloud, he said, “What’s your name? What kind of family are you from? Why were you trying to sell yourself ?”

Lansun replied, “I’m Pei Lansun, daughter of a humble resident of Bianjing. I was trying to sell myself because I needed the money to bury my deceased father.” While saying this, she shed furtive tears.

After surveying her with fixed intensity, Liu Yuanpu continued, “You can’t be from a humble family. Don’t try to fool me. Your look of sorrow tells me that you’re trying to hide a painful experience. Tell me everything. I’ll stand up for you and relieve you of your sorrow.”

Lansun’s initial resistance to telling the truth melted away under Liu Yuanpu’s rigorous questioning. Resignedly, she gave a full account of what had happened, beginning with her father’s criminal conviction for the jailbreak and sparing no details. As her tears fell like rain, Liu Yuanpu turned pale and found himself also in tears. “I just knew that you weren’t from a humble family,” said he. “My wife almost made me do the wrong thing. How tragic that such a good official died so unjustly!” Whereupon he hastened to apologize to Miss Pei over and over again, adding, “Since you don’t have a place to stay, why don’t you stay here while I pick a burial lot for your honorable father?”

“Such a perfect arrangement is indeed a blessing from Heaven,” said Lansun. “Please accept a bow from me.”

Liu Yuanpu promptly raised her to her feet and instructed the designated maidservant to take unfailingly good care of Miss Pei. Then he went to the hall and dispatched servants to Bianliang to bring Mr. Pei’s coffin to Luoyang.

Before many days went by, the servants returned with the coffin. It so happened that the coffin of Prefect Li of Qiantang County arrived at the same time. Liu Yuanpu had both coffins placed in one of the halls and prepared two feasts for a memorial ceremony. Zhang-shi led her son in paying homage to the late Mr. Li’s shrine, and Yuanpu led Lansun in paying homage to the late Mr. Pei. A celebrated feng shui master was engaged to pick two burial lots, and an auspicious date in the twelfth lunar month of the year was chosen for the burials.

One day, Lady Wang spoke up again to her husband: “Although Miss Pei is from a distinguished family background, you helped her out in her distress. If she’d been stranded in another place, who knows how low she might have fallen? You took care of her father’s burial, which is an act of great kindness. I’m sure she’ll gladly agree to be your concubine. Since she’s from a prominent family, she may be in fortune’s favor and bear you a son. If so, you’ll have an heir and she’ll be well provided for. What’s so wrong about that? Please give this another thought.”

It would have been all right if she had not said this, but she did, and Liu Yuanpu lost his temper. His face hardening, he said, “What kind of talk is that! The world abounds with beautiful women. If I wanted a concubine, I could have made my choice elsewhere. How could I ever dream of sullying Mr. Pei’s daughter? (MC: Words of an honorable gentleman.) Heaven knows if I ever entertained such a thought!”

Realizing that she had put her foot in her mouth, Lady Wang was reduced to silence.

Feeling sick at heart, Liu Yuanpu gave himself up to thought and said after a while, “I was being an idiot. Since I have no children, why don’t I adopt her as a daughter, pure and simple? And you can drop that idea of yours.” (MC: Most judicious.) Thereupon, he had a maid lead Miss Pei out to him.

“I’m much older than your father,” said he to Lansun. “And I was also a prefect, but at my advanced age, I have no children. If you’re not disdainful of us, may we adopt you as a daughter? What do you say?”

“Because you, sir, and Lady Wang so kindly took me in, I’ll gladly serve you as a maidservant. I don’t deserve more!”

“What a thing to say!” exclaimed Liu Yuanpu. “You’re the daughter of an official. You’re just going through a trying time. How can you descend to such lowliness? My mind is made up. Don’t be so self-deprecating.”

“You, sir, and you, madam, have given me a new lease on life. I’ll never be able to repay your kindness, not even in death. Since you do me such honor and adopt me as a daughter, I cannot decline. Please accept a bow from your daughter right now.”

Beside himself with joy, Liu Yuanpu said to his wife, “Since Lansun is our daughter now, let’s accept her bows, the whole set of them!”

Then and there, Lansun kowtowed eight times, as if offering votive candles. Henceforth, she called them “Father” and “Mother.” She proved herself to be a most dutiful daughter, and all three quickly warmed to one another.

Then Lady Wang had another idea. “Now that you’ve adopted her,” said she to her husband, “it behooves you to pick a husband for her. My nephew Wang Wenyong is a young widower. (MC: This is woman talk!) He has many years of experience managing the estates, and he has quite a sharp and shrewd mind. Our daughter won’t be shortchanged. Why don’t you pull off the match for them?”

Smiling ever so slightly, Liu Yuanpu said, “It does behoove me to pick another wife for your widowed nephew. I know what to do. Your job is just to prepare the dowry.”

Lady Wang obliged him. Right away, Yuanpu chose an auspicious wedding date. When that date rolled around, pigs and goats were slaughtered and a grand feast of celebration was laid out to which members of the local landed gentry, kinsmen, and friends, as well as Mrs. Li and her son and Lady Wang’s nephew Wang Wenyong were invited. The guests assumed that they were to witness Mr. Liu taking on a concubine, while Lady Wang thought it was her nephew’s wedding. (MC: They were, one and all, benighted mortals.)

The Moon Palace is so far out of reach.

Whose home will Chang’e visit tonight?10

When the auspicious hour was drawing near, Liu Yuanpu ordered that a suit of clothes for the bridegroom be laid out in the hall for all to see. Saluting the guests with clasped hands, Liu Yuanpu announced, “May I have everybody’s attention please? I have something to announce. As it is said, ‘It is ruthless to profit by a woman’s beauty; it is heartless to take advantage of other people’s distress.’ Lansun, daughter of Prefect Pei of Xiangyang, who died unjustly in prison, has just come of age [fifteen], and my wife wanted me to take her as my concubine. But I’d rather remain childless than insult Prefect Pei’s good name. As for my wife’s nephew Wang Wenyong, he may be an excellent manager, but he’s not a government official and therefore not a suitable match for a young lady of such exalted status. (MC: Good point.) Now, Li Yanqing, son of my old friend County Magistrate Li, with his distinguished family background, his youth, his good looks, and his literary talent, is a perfect match for the young lady. What do you say if I marry them to each other today?”

With one voice, the assembled guests broke into praise of Mr. Liu’s magnanimity. Li Chunlang, thus caught off guard, tried to raise objections, but Liu Yuanpu turned a deaf ear. With his own hands, he put proper bridegroom’s attire on the young man. Amid the resounding notes of sheng pipes, the tinkling of jade girdle pendants came to their ears as Madam Xue, the matron of honor, and several maidservants shepherded Miss Pei into the brightly lit hall. The groom and the bride, standing on a floral patterned carpet, exchanged nuptial vows and became husband and wife. Indeed, words are inadequate to describe the lavish ceremony. Behold:

“Lovely Children” trim the lamps;11

“Seven Ladies” hold the fans.

“Crazy Scoundrels” and “Pockmarked Women” all praise

The “Fairies at Magpie Bridge” and “Isles of the Blest.”

In service are “Good Sisters” and “Willow Green Girls,”

Helping the “Happy Groom” lift the “Gilt Curtains.”

The groom is prepared but doesn’t need “Flowers of the Rear Court”;

With mixed feelings, the bride meets “The Oar in the Water” tonight.

“Shedding the Cotton Shirts” brings much joy;

“The Fluttering Heart” is filled with delight.

Zhang-shi and her son, Chunlang, had never imagined this blessing from Heaven even in their wildest dreams. By the light of the candles, Miss Pei Lansun was inwardly pleased by her husband’s prepossessing appearance. She had thought she was going to marry the Star of Longevity, but the groom turned out to be the Star of Civil Virtue. (MC: A major credit for Liu Yuanpu’s record in the unseen world.)

After the ceremony was over, the newlyweds were led to their sedan-chairs. Liu Yuanpu himself escorted them to the southern wing, where the bridal candles were lit and the wedded couple drank the nuptial cup. After the dowry worth a thousand taels of silver was delivered to the bridal chamber, Liu Yuanpu went back to the feast hall to entertain the guests. Amid loud music, they drank until almost daybreak before the party broke up. As for the beauty and the gifted youth in the bridal chamber, they spent the blissful night as inseparable as lacquer and glue and as happy in their union as fish in water. When their pillow talk turned to Mr. Liu’s great kindness, both were overwhelmed with gratitude.

After rising at daybreak, they went to pay their respects to Zhang-shi, who then joined them in paying respects to Mr. Liu with many expressions of gratitude. Then Zhang-shi prepared some sacrificial offerings and took her son and daughter-in-law to her husband’s coffin so that they could pay homage to the departed. Stroking the coffin, Zhang-shi said tearfully, “Husband, a man as honorable as you were when alive is surely still living on in spirit. Uncle Liu took us in, widow and fatherless son, and married our son to the daughter of a distinguished family. His bounty is as vast as the sky. For kindness of such magnitude, please protect him from where you are in the unseen world and help him acquire a son and live to be one hundred.”

Chunlang and his wife also said their prayers, but silently. Henceforth, the young couple lived in harmony with the older generation, with the wife following her husband’s lead. Day and night, they burned incense and prayed for blessings from the netherworld for Mr. Liu.

Time flashed by unnoticed. It was now the middle of the twelfth lunar month, and the auspicious day for burial arrived. Liu Yuanpu called together a team of workmen who carried the two coffins to the graveyard, escorted by Zhang-shi and her son and daughter-in-law, dressed in deep mourning. After the coffins were lowered into the pits and the grave mounds were completed, a tombstone was erected on each grave, one bearing the inscription “Tomb of Pei Anqing, Prefect of Xiangyang of the Song Dynasty” and the other “Tomb of Li Kerang, Magistrate of Qiantang of the Song Dynasty.” All around stood pines trees and cypresses against a background of hills and water, accentuating the proximity of the two graves. Liu Yuanpu laid out three kinds of sacrificial meat required for the ritual. Zhang-shi and the young couple burst out crying. (MC: Why all this grief ?) After they had their cry, all three turned their eyes to Liu Yuanpu and prostrated themselves on the grass-covered ground. Liu Yuanpu hastened to return the courtesy, saying, in all modesty, that he did not deserve the veneration. There was not even the faintest glow of self-conceit on his face. (MC: Quite exceptional.) Then they went back home and parted company.

At the third watch that night, Liu Yuanpu saw in his dream two men—each with an official’s cap on his head, an ivory tablet in his hand, and a golden waistband around the middle of his purple robe—prostrating themselves on the floor at his feet, calling him their “great benefactor.”

In astonishment, Liu Yuanpu promptly rose and raised them to their feet, saying, “Venerable gods, what brought you down to this humble place? This is too much of an honor for me!”

The man on the left said, “I’m Pei Xi, prefect of Xiangyang, and this is Li Kerang, magistrate of Qiantang. The Lord on High, in his compassion, and out of regard for our integrity and loyalty, appointed me a god of the city of His residence on earth and Mr. Li a judge in the yamen of heaven. After I died in prison, my little daughter had no one to turn to for help, but you, in your great kindness, found her a good husband, gave me a nice resting place, and made me and Mr. Li in-laws in the netherworld. Your kindness to us is beyond all repayment. We’ve already written a memorial to the heavenly court. Out of consideration for your virtuous conduct, the Lord on High gave you a one-grade promotion, added thirty years to your life, and granted you two sons who will both attain high status. Though we’re in two separate worlds, we deem it necessary to inform you about this.”

The one on the right said, “I sent you a message in the form of a blank letter because I found it hard to unburden my heart to you without knowing you personally. To my surprise, you deciphered my message in one glance and most readily adopted my son. By supporting the living and burying the dead, you already exceeded the normal bounds of friendship. And then, your arrangement of marriage for my son went beyond my wildest hopes. Adding years to your life and granting you a son do not suffice to repay a fraction of your kindness. My posthumous daughter Fengming will be born tomorrow morning. I venture to betroth her to your son, so that you’ll be my daughter’s father-in-law, just as I’m your daughter’s father-in-law. This will be, in a small way, my personal contribution to the repayment of your kindness.”

With that, they saluted Mr. Liu with folded hands and took their leave. Liu Yuanpu made haste to escort them out, but they pushed him back. He woke up with a start, and on realizing that he was in bed with Lady Wang, he told her about his dream. (MC: An optimal moment for planting the seeds.)

“I also admire you,” said Lady Wang. “Such great kindness has rarely been witnessed in all of history. You’ll surely be richly blessed. I take it that the gods meant what they said.”

“Mr. Pei and Mr. Li became gods after they died due to their moral integrity. It stands to reason that they chose to appear in my dream out of gratitude for my arranging their children’s marriage. But about adding thirty years to my life, can there be centenarians in this world of ours? And about granting me two sons, I’m already seventy years old. I may be as energetic as before, but it’s hardly likely for a seventy-year-old to father a son. I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

The next morning, recalling what had been said in the dream, Liu Yuanpu adjusted his cap and his clothes and went to the southern wing. Before he could tell Zhang-shi and the young couple about it, Li Chunlang and his wife came out to greet him. “Mother has just given birth to a little sister and is now in bed,” said Chunlang. “Last night, all three of us had strange dreams. We were about to report the good tidings to you, but here you are!”

On hearing that Zhang-shi had given birth to a daughter, Liu Yuanpu was struck by the accuracy of Mr. Li’s words, but since he remained childless, he thought it prudent not to reveal his dream. He inquired after Zhang-shi’s health and went on to ask about their dreams. Li Chunlang said, “In our dreams, my father and my father-in-law had both become gods. They said that the heavenly court, touched by your kindness, has increased your life span and granted you sons, and all three of us had the same dream.”

Inwardly marveling at the coincidence, Liu Yuanpu told them about his own dream, whereupon Chunlang said, “This is all thanks to your accumulation of credit in the unseen world. Nothing can be more natural by heavenly principles. It’s not a figment of anyone’s imagination.”

When Liu Yuanpu returned to his own quarters and told his wife about everything, both were struck with awe and sighed prodigiously. Then they sent servants to the Li family residence to offer congratulations. When the baby girl was one month old, Zhang-shi carried her to Yuanpu’s quarters so that she could greet her uncle and aunt. When Yuanpu asked for her name, Zhang-shi replied, “Her nickname is Fengming, as my husband instructed in my dream.” Liu Yuanpu was all the more amazed that Zhang-shi’s dream tallied with his.

Let me try to be brief. Lady Wang, already forty years old by now, began to have cravings for salty and sour foods and often felt queasy. Attributing the symptoms to middle-age ailments, Liu Yuanpu engaged physicians, but none of them could make a diagnosis from taking her pulse. One or two among them knew enough to say that her pulse suggested a pregnancy. But well aware that Liu Yuanpu was seventy and Lady Wang was forty and had always been barren, they dared not give prescriptions and confined themselves to saying, “The lady doesn’t need any medicine. She’ll recover on her own.”

Liu Yuanpu also said, “Such a minor ailment shouldn’t do much harm.” No more physicians were engaged, and everyone’s mind was put at ease.

After some time passed, Lady Wang did indeed get over the symptoms, but she felt heavier in the middle by the day. Her skirt sash seemed to shrink, her face was puffy around the eyes, her breasts were swollen, and her abdomen began to protrude. Doubtfully, Liu Yuanpu thought, “Could the words said in that dream really be prophetic?”

The sun and the moon shot back and forth, and before they knew it, the due date was upon Lady Wang. By this time, Liu Yuanpu had dismissed all doubts about the pregnancy and made preparations for the delivery. He hired a midwife and a wet nurse. One night, Lady Wang had just gone to sleep when a peculiar fragrance assailed her nostrils and the air echoed with notes of otherworldly music. As her labor pains began, the women all came in to offer their services. In less than an hour’s time, a baby boy was born. After he was bathed in scented warm water, he was seen to be a big baby with finely marked eyebrows, bright eyes, a straight nose, and a well-formed mouth. Husband and wife were beside themselves with joy. Yuanpu said to his wife, “The prophecies of Mr. Pei and Mr. Li in that dream of mine have been borne out. The baby is indeed a blessing from heaven.” Whereupon he named the baby Liu Tianyou [Heaven Blessed], with the courtesy name Mengzhen [Dream Auspicious]. The story soon spread throughout the city of Luoyang, along with a jingle that said:

The prefect was born with a unique streak;

He makes it his business to do good deeds.

He married off Miss Pei, only to get a son;

At age seventy, he was blessed with his first one.

Soon, the baby was one month old. A celebration feast was held, as was the usual practice. Members of the local landed gentry and kinsmen and friends descended on the Liu residence to offer their congratulations, and the feast lasted three to five days. Chunlang and Lansun took money out of their private savings for a separate feast to mark the occasion, but so much for the celebrations.

Let us now turn our attention to Li Chunlang. After his marriage and the burial of his father’s remains, he applied himself with greater assiduity to his studies of the classics and history, aspiring to carve out a career for himself in order to repay the immense kindness he had received. With Liu Yuanpu’s support, he enrolled in the National Academy. While he was consulting his uncle, his mother, and his wife about a journey to the capital to attend the academy and await the next round of civil service examinations, a messenger came from the commissioner of military affairs in Bianjing with the mission of taking Miss Pei’s family to the capital. The fact was that Lansun’s maternal uncle Mr. Zheng had been promoted a few months ago from regional commissioner of Xichuan to vice commissioner of military affairs. On arriving in the capital, Commissioner Zheng learned that his brother-in-law, Prefect Li, had been convicted of a crime and died. He went to the Pure and True Convent to ask about his niece and was told that she had been sold and taken to Luoyang. Then he sent someone to Luoyang to make inquiries, and on learning that Mr. Liu had made a match for his niece in an act of magnanimity, he burst into sighs of admiration. Sorely missing his niece, he invited her, her husband, and her mother-in-law to the capital for a family reunion. The invitation could not have suited Chunlang better. Lansun was also overjoyed that her uncle had been transferred back to the capital.

After reporting the news to Mr. and Mrs. Liu, they picked an auspicious day on which to set out on the journey with Zhang-shi and Fengming. When that day drew near, Liu Yuanpu laid out a farewell feast. As the dinner table talk turned to the dreams, Liu Yuanpu said to Zhang-shi, “In that dream of mine last year, your husband told me that there’s a predestined marriage bond between your daughter and my son. I didn’t bring this up because there was no sign of a son for me at the time. But now, if you don’t find us beneath you, shall we form a marriage alliance?”

With a slight bow, Zhang-shi replied, “Since my husband said so and you don’t find us beneath you, and we haven’t been able to repay you for your great kindness, why would I deny my daughter the honor? It’s just that my son and I are as poor as before. It would be too presumptuous of us to aspire to claim connections with you. Once my son makes a name for himself, I’ll surely have my daughter serve your son.”

After the feast was over, Mr. Liu turned to Lansun and said, “Your husband’s journey will lead him to a brilliant career. The two of us will be fine at home. Don’t worry about us.” Everyone shed tears and felt sad at the thought of parting.

When it was time to depart, the young couple kowtowed time and again with words of gratitude for the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Liu before they tearfully set out on their journey. Luoyang being not far from the capital, they kept up a regular correspondence, but we need not go into detail about that.

Let me now tell of the baby Liu Tianyou. With the passing of the days and months, he was now one year old. One day, the wet nurse carrying him went outside for some fun with a maid called Morning Cloud. At eighteen, Morning Cloud was a pretty girl. After she played for a while with the nurse, the latter said, “Sister, hold the baby for me for a while. It’s getting windy. I need to go get more clothes for him.” And so Morning Cloud took the baby. On reemerging from the house, the nurse heard the baby cry. In consternation, she rushed over and saw Morning Cloud holding the baby with one hand and rubbing the baby’s head with the other. Upon a closer look, the nurse saw a big bump on the baby’s head. Flying into a rage, she said, “You had to drop him the moment I turned my back! Don’t you know what he means to Master and Madam? If they learn about this from other people, you’ll also get me in trouble. I’m going to report to them right now. Let’s see if you’ll be spared punishment, you little lowlife!” With that, she picked up the baby and went away in a huff.

At this ominous turn of events, Morning Cloud exploded. Returning the insult, she said, “You old sow, you bitch, using the young master to throw your weight around and call me names! Who do you think you are? You’re just a nurse! As for the young master, I’ve never heard of any seventy-year-old fathering a son, and a first-born, too! (MC: Showing her true colors as a woman.) Maybe the baby was abducted or adopted. Who knows? And you had to walk all over me like that just because of one little fall!” For all her verbal ferocity, Morning Cloud was quite unnerved and dared not follow the nurse to the inner chamber. Little did she know that the nurse repeated to Liu Yuanpu every word she had said.

After hearing the nurse out, Liu Yuanpu said affably, “She’s not to be blamed. It’s indeed rare for a seventy-year-old man to beget a child. Why give so much weight to something said in the heat of the moment?”

The nurse had thought that her report against Morning Cloud would at least get her beaten half to death. Such unexpected tolerance on the master’s part turned the fire in her chest into half a cup of icy water. With the baby in her arms, she went inside.

That very evening, after eating supper with Lady Wang, Yuanpu went to his study to rest. There, he said to a maid, “Bring Morning Cloud here, to the study.”

The maidservants assumed that the master was going to give Morning Cloud a dressing-down because of what had happened earlier in the day and were holding their breaths for her. With the speed of a hawk swooping down on a sparrow, they brought her in. With her guilty conscience, Morning Cloud, poor thing, stood trembling with fear in front of Liu Yuanpu and braced herself for a severe lecture. Yuanpu said to the other maidservants, “Go, and leave only Morning Cloud here.”

In obedience to this command, all the maidservants went away. Yuanpu then ordered Morning Cloud to close the door. As Morning Cloud wondered what he had up his sleeve, Liu Yuanpu told her to approach him, adding, “Infertility is caused in most cases by the weakness of sperm at the point of union, but if the sperm are healthy and strong, an old man can be as fertile as a young man. You thought that old men could not sire children and accused me of resorting to adoption or some devious means. I’m keeping you here tonight precisely in order to try my energy on you, to dispel your suspicions.” (MC: Mr. Liu’s main concern is to dispel her suspicions. He is no lecher.)

The fact was that Liu Yuanpu had suspected he was infertile and therefore had been averse to taking on young women. Now that he had already fathered a son, he felt emboldened. Moreover, according to his dream, he was supposed to have one more son. And so he changed his mind. As for Morning Cloud, she had no idea that her thoughtless remark would lead to this. In no position to disobey, she attended to him, removed her clothes, and went to bed with him. Behold:

He is like the eight-hundred-year-old Peng Zu;12

She is like the short-lived student Yan Hui.13

With rainy clouds, the Luo River Goddess

Pours water on the longevity star.

As if fishing by the creek, Lü Wang’s rod

Probed for the right spot to land.14

Laozi on a buffalo embraces

The Dragon King’s daughter holding a pearl plate.

Old Man Zhang riding a donkey

Hugs a fairy maiden holding a strainer.15

Twisting vines wind around a peony blossom;

A mossback gathers lotus pistils.

The old Vesper Star lapses into lust;

The jade maiden is seized with desire.

In spite of his advanced years, Liu Yuanpu was still going strong. Morning Cloud resigned herself and submitted to him, putting up with the pain. The union lasted for about two hours until he ejaculated. Liu Yuanpu slept through the rest of the night with Morning Cloud.

At daybreak, Morning Cloud left the study and went to her own quarters. After Liu Yuanpu rose and told his wife about what had transpired, she burst out laughing without saying anything. The maidservants and the nurse had always been impressed by their master’s decency and were surprised by this lapse in his moral character, but no one foresaw that Morning Cloud would get pregnant after that one encounter. Liu Yuanpu had been motivated mainly by an urge to show his prowess so as to bring an end to Morning Cloud’s suspicions. The pregnancy, so easily achieved, also took him by surprise. Lady Wang furnished a servant’s room and advised her husband to take on Morning Cloud as a concubine. He agreed. Morning Cloud changed into attire befitting her new status, and Liu Yuanpu spent nights with her from time to time. Morning Cloud was pleased that her thoughtless remark, blurted out in the rush of the moment, had elevated her to such a nice status. In jest, Liu Yuanpu said to her, “Now you know that the young master was not abducted or adopted, don’t you?” (MC: This is an important point.) Morning Cloud reddened to the roots of her ears and dared not venture a word.

In the twinkling of an eye, the pregnancy reached full term. As Morning Cloud’s contractions began, a peculiar aroma assailed her nostrils and permeated the room, and a baby boy was born. At this very moment, a commotion broke out at the gate outside. Liu Yuanpu went out to see what it was all about and learned that the stir was caused by messengers announcing that Li Chunlang had won first place on the civil service examinations at the palace level. Liu Yuanpu’s heart leaped for joy because this success justified his adoption of the young man as a nephew, and it was also a most auspicious omen for his newborn son. The messenger presented him with a letter from Mr. Li, winner of first place on the exams. Liu Yuanpu opened it and read:

When my mother and I, widow and orphan, were going through a difficult time, you, Uncle, took us under your wing and provided for us all these years. My success at the exams is also attributable to your kindness. I hope this letter finds you and my aunt well. I wanted to ask for a leave of absence so as to visit you, but my duty as tutor to the crown prince requires my presence by His Highness’s side at all times of the day, and I have not been able to fulfill that wish. So I am sending, for your enjoyment, two jars of wine bestowed by the emperor as well as the two flowers that I wore at the imperial banquet for successful candidates, to serve as a good omen for your son. How I wish to be with you and better express my sentiments!

After reading it through, Liu Yuanpu took the wine and the flowers and was entering the inner chamber to tell his wife about this when his son Tianyou walked up to him. He called the boy to a halt and, handing him the two flowers, said, “Your cousin won first place on the exams in the capital city and sent these flowers for you, hoping you’ll do the same in the future and join the banquet for successful candidates.”

The boy happily took the flowers, stuck them on his head, and, to the old couple’s great mirth, made two deep bows to them while chanting words of salute. Liu Yuanpu promptly wrote a congratulatory letter to Li Chunlang and informed him of the birth of the new baby. After sending off the messenger from the capital, he offered libations at the shrines of Mr. Pei and Mr. Li with the wine bestowed by the emperor before sharing what remained of the wine with his wife. He then named his second son Tianxi [Heaven Bestowed], with the courtesy name Mengfu [Dream Sign].

The brothers grew apace, and well-behaved boys they turned out to be. Liu Yuanpu engaged tutors for them, expecting them to make something of themselves. Out of gratitude for Heaven’s blessings, he devoted himself to public works, building bridges and paving roads and doing good deeds far and wide. He also paid his respects to the graves of Mr. Pei and Mr. Li every spring and autumn, but let us leave Liu Yuanpu and tell of what happened to Li Chunlang in the capital city.

Commissioner Zheng and his wife Wei-shi had only one child, a daughter named Sujuan, still in swaddling clothes. Because his sister and brother-in-law had died early, the commissioner loved his niece Lansun dearly, which was why the Zhengs were very favorably disposed toward the entire Li family.

After Li Chunlang rose to fame and was assigned to be the crown prince’s tutor, he made his way into the latter’s good graces. After more than ten years, Emperor Zhenzong died, and the crown prince ascended the throne as Emperor Renzong [r. 1023–63]. Giving preferential treatment to his tutor, he promoted Chunlang, official name Li Yanqing, to secretary of the Ministry of Rites as a first-grade official. When Emperor Renzong was still the crown prince, Chunlang had informed him several times of Liu Yuanpu’s acts of kindness, and now, Chunlang wrote a memorial to the new emperor, asking to be allowed to go back to Luoyang to pay homage to the family graves and requesting commendations and rewards. Accordingly, Emperor Renzong issued the following decree: “Li Xun, ex-magistrate of Qiantang County, is hereby posthumously promoted to secretary of the Ministry of Rites and Pei Xi, ex-prefect of Xiangyang, is hereby posthumously restored to his former post. Items of sacrificial offerings are hereby bestowed for each departed soul. Liu Hongjing [Liu Yuanpu], prefect of Qingzhou, is to be promoted by three grades. Li Yanqing, secretary of the Ministry of Rites, is hereby granted a six-month leave of absence, to resume his duties upon his return to court.”

Equipped with the imperial decree, Secretary Li took his mother, his wife, and his sister to say good-bye to Commissioner Zheng and returned to Luoyang posthaste in an extravagant procession that was several li long, complete with horse-drawn chariots and banners. Prefectural and county officials went out through the city gates to greet them. Secretary Li had been twenty years old when he left and was now returning as a court minister at the young age of thirty. The populace of Luoyang turned out en masse to view the procession, praising Liu Yuanpu not only for his kindness but also for his judgment of character.

Secretary Li’s family members dismounted at the Liu residence first. On learning of their arrival, Liu Yuanpu and his wife hastened to lay out a table for receipt of the imperial decree. After kowtowing and crying “Ten thousand years to the emperor” three times, Lady Zhang, Secretary Li, and Lady Pei, in red robes and jade belts, led the young lady Fengming in prostrating themselves on the floor to voice their thanks to the emperor for his bounty.

After Liu Yuanpu raised the secretary to his feet and Lady Wang raised Lady Pei and Fengming to their feet, they called forth their two sons, so that they could greet their aunt, cousin, and cousin’s wife. Everyone was impressed by the two youths’ imposing looks and their strong resemblance to Liu Yuanpu. In delight, they exclaimed, “It’s thanks to his accumulated credit in the unseen world that our benefactor is blessed with two such gems of sons!” Then they carried the items of sacrificial offering bestowed by the emperor to the graves of Mr. Pei and Mr. Li, where they burned sacrificial paper and poured libations. Zhang-shi and the other three members of her family cried their hearts out and then cleared up the offerings and returned home.

Liu Yuanpu laid out a banquet to celebrate the occasion. After three courses of food and several rounds of wine were served, he rose and said to the secretary and his mother, “I’ve harbored a secret for more than ten years, and I must share it with you today. In fact, Mr. Li Senior and I had never even laid eyes on each other. (MC: He was put on the spot at the time.) When you, mother and son, came to ask me for help, I was totally at sea. When I opened the letter, I found it to be a blank sheet of paper without even half a character on it. I didn’t understand at first, but after I gave the matter some thought, I figured that he must have heard of my undeserved reputation (MC: Surely not undeserved!) and wanted to entrust his wife and son to my care, but since we’d never met before, he found it hard to say it. So he stuffed a blank sheet of paper into an envelope as a cryptic message. That day, I played along and pretended it was all true. I never even told my wife the truth. What I said about my sworn brotherhood with Mr. Li was nothing but fiction. Now that my good nephew has made his mark in the world and brought honor to his ancestors, I’d be guilty of hiding all the pains that Mr. Li had taken if I didn’t come out with the truth.” Having said that, he handed the blank sheet of paper to the secretary and his mother. Both burst into tears and expressions of gratitude. On learning only at this moment that Liu Yuanpu’s admission of the mother and son into his home was based on nothing but a blank letter, everyone broke into effusive praise. Indeed,

Entrusting orphans to friends is nothing new,

But none ever claimed brotherhood when there was none.

If everyone follows Liu Yuanpu’s example,

Need one cultivate friends at all?

When Liu Yuanpu again asked Zhang-shi for permission to betroth his older son to Fengming, the old lady readily agreed. At this point, Lady Pei rose and said, “I haven’t been able to repay even one fraction of my father’s kindness to me. My uncle Commissioner Zheng has a daughter named Sujuan, of the same age as my younger brother. I offer my services as a matchmaker.” Liu Yuanpu thanked her, and of events of the rest of that day there is no more to tell.

Soon thereafter, Liu Yuanpu betrothed Tianyou to Miss Li Fengming. In the meantime, Secretary Li wrote a memorial to the emperor, to report to him how Liu Yuanpu had taken him and his mother in on the basis of a blank letter, and also wrote a letter to Commissioner Zheng, to propose marriage. Before long, Emperor Renzong read the memorial and was immensely pleased. Praising Liu Yuanpu for his moral character, he issued a decree ordering the erection of a memorial archway in his honor and bestowed on him the title Secretary of the Ministry of Rites as commendation of his extraordinary deeds. Commissioner Zheng, in admiration of Mr. Liu’s magnanimity, readily granted the latter’s request for betrothal of his son to Zheng’s daughter. Secretary Li was now Tianyou’s brother-in-law and Tianxi’s cousin-in-law. With these added ties, the domestic blessings were complete.

Later, Tianyou came out first in the civil service examinations at the palace level, and Tianxi also obtained the jinshi degree that same year. Liu Yuanpu lived to see both sons marry and have children of their own.

Then, one night, Mr. Pei appeared to him in a dream and said with a bow, “My term of office as god of the city of the Lord on High’s residence on earth has expired. The Lord on High has ordered you, sir, to come and replace me.”

The next day, Liu Yuanpu died peacefully without an illness, one hundred years old to the day. Lady Wang passed away in her eighties. Secretary Li and his wife gave way to their grief and wept with abandon. Treating Mr. and Mrs. Liu as their own parents, they observed mourning in their hearts for six years. Even though the Liu family had its own offspring, Secretary Li still went to pay homage at the Liu family graveyard every year, returning the kindness he had received. Mr. Pei was the only one without male issue, but offspring of the Li family paid homage at his grave generation after generation, for the Li family had made its home in Luoyang in order to take care of the ancestors’ graves and never returned to Western Yue. Lady Pei Lansun’s son also had a distinguished career in officialdom. Liu Tianyou rose to be prime minister, and Liu Tianxi an imperial inspector. Liu Yuanpu received many honorable titles, and the Liu clan multiplied. This is a case of acts of kindness getting their returns.

This story is taken from “The Story of the Empty Letter” and retold so as to exhort people to virtue, as is attested by a poem:

Yin and yang are of the same principle;

Weal and woe are up to the individual.

Say not that Heaven is too far away;

Look no further than the case of Prefect Liu.