18

An Alchemist Turns Half a Grain of Millet into a Nine-Cycle Pill

A Rich Man Squanders Thousands of Taels of Silver to Win a Beauty’s Smile

As the poem says,

Covered in tattered rags,

They brag to all of their alchemical skill.

Why don’t they produce silver for themselves

And sell it like water by the river?

The above lines were written earlier in this dynasty [Ming] by Tang Bohu, who won first place in the civil service examinations at the provincial level.1 There are in this world people who engage in the transmutation of base metals, and they do little but set traps and perform sleights of hand to cheat the greedy and the benighted. They claim to be able to turn medicinal herbs into elixirs, iron and lead into gold, and sulfuric mercury into silver and call the trick “the art of the Yellow and the White” and “the magic of the furnace fire.” They ask for pieces of silver to use as the base, and then, when the coast is clear, they take the silver and run, calling the act “lifting the jar.” One such man, a Daoist priest, once tried to recruit Tang Bohu, saying, “Scholar, with your refined and otherworldly appearance, you’re a good candidate for this art.”

The scholar said in rebuttal, “You’re wearing nothing but tatters. If you’re a master of this divine art, why don’t you conjure up some wealth for yourself ? Why go out of your way to enrich other people?”

The priest replied, “This poor priest has magic skills that are the envy of Mother Nature. They work only on those who are richly blessed by Heaven. I myself have no such luck, and therefore they don’t work on me. I see that you, sir, are one such richly blessed man, which is why I’m here to recruit an ‘outside protector,’ as we say in our professional parlance.”

“Let me tell you this: I care nothing about what you do with your magic. I’ll focus on transferring my rich blessings to you. When the gold is ready, you split the gold with me, fifty-fifty, and that will be that!” (MC: Words that never fail to debunk falsehoods.)

The priest caught on to Tang Bohu’s sarcastic tone. Realizing that the scholar was not one to take the bait, the priest went airily off. This is the encounter that resulted in the above-cited quatrain meant to admonish the world.

Now, some of those in that line of work have such a way with words that they could have easily argued Scholar Tang down. Why? Because, as they put it, “The immortals have the duty to deliver people from suffering. They’re not supposed to use their magic for selfish purposes. But only those who have the qualities of an immortal and a predestined bond with immortals can join us in practicing the art and succeed in inner perfection as well as in alchemy.” A fine speech that was! But there is indeed much truth in it, and alchemy is indeed a divine art. The methods for turning cinnabar into gold were passed on by immortals in olden times in order to deliver all mortal beings from poverty. Daoist patriarch Lü Chunyang, afraid that the gold thus derived would revert to its original state in five hundred years and bring losses to later generations, never meant to have the gold used for purchasing land, marrying, having children, or running a household.2 An immortal who was about to succeed in making pills of immortality recruited Du Zichun as an “outside protector.”3 However, because Du Zichun had not been completely purged of the human emotion of love, the elixir in the furnace of Yuntai Temple was ruined.

As for those greedy people of our times, they acquire land and houses, along with their spoiled wives and beautiful concubines, harm others to enrich themselves, and haggle over every penny. What small and petty minds they have! When they seek out some lousy Daoists and expect them to churn out enough gold and silver for themselves and their offspring, wouldn’t you agree that they have gone quite out of their minds? They would do well to reflect on the admonition about succeeding “in inner perfection as well as in alchemy.” It would not do to concentrate on making elixir but neglect cultivating inner perfection. As long as they entertain this wrong idea, their attempts at alchemy will be doomed to failure.

Gentle reader, you would think that by now even the most benighted would have learned not to engage in such fruitless endeavors. And yet, for reasons quite beyond me, even the brightest of men fall into this trap. (MC: Only the brightest indulge in fanciful ideas and imagine themselves impervious to trickery.)

Let me tell you about a Mr. Pan of Songjiang [now part of Shanghai]. He was a rich man and a student at the Imperial Academy. With his erudition and eloquence, he was quite an interesting man, but he had one eccentricity: he had blind faith in alchemy. As the saying goes, “Like attracts like.” Indeed, alchemists flocked to his door in a steady stream and, little by little, relieved him of much of his silver. In spite of having fallen victim to scams multiple times, he had no regrets, insisting that he was just not lucky enough to meet a true alchemist. He said, “This art has been around since the oldest times. Of course it works. (MC: He is too well informed.) When it does for me one of these days, the small losses I’ve suffered so far will be nothing!” And so he threw himself into the practice with greater enthusiasm. His name spread far and wide by word of mouth until every alchemist, worthy or not, planned to cheat him out of his money.

One autumn day, Mr. Pan went on an excursion to West Lake in Hangzhou. After settling down in a rented place, he saw his neighbors resting in their pavilion. They had come from afar, also to tour the lake. They had a lot of luggage and an impressive retinue of servants, and the woman who appeared to be the lady of the family was a delight to the eye. He learned, upon inquiry, that she was the master’s favorite concubine. Day after day, they set out wine on an enormous rented pleasure boat complete with a band of musicians and singers. That concubine joined the company on the boat, where they drank, in moderation, and sang in subdued voices. As they toasted one another with raised cups, Mr. Pan saw that all the wine utensils were made of gold or silver and in various exquisite designs. After they returned to their lodgings in the evening, their rooms were ablaze with lights, and liberal rewards were given out.

The rich Mr. Pan in the next house was awestruck. He thought, “My family qualifies as wealthy (MC: If he is wealthy, what complaints can he have? He is just too greedy.), but we can’t afford such extravagance. He must be like Tao Zhugong and Yi Dun, among the richest of the rich!”4

Out of admiration for his neighbor, Mr. Pan began to send messages to the man, indicating his wish for them to get acquainted. When they did meet, each introduced himself and voiced his admiration for the other. Seeing his chance to sound the man out, Mr. Pan said, “Sir, your wealth is nothing short of fabulous!”

Modestly, the neighbor said, “Oh, it’s nothing even worth mentioning!”

Mr. Pan pressed further, “The way you spend your money every day, your vast fortune will eventually dwindle away unless your stockpiles of gold and silver reach the Big Dipper in the sky.”

“Well, even if my stockpiles of gold and silver reach the Big Dipper, they’ll easily be exhausted if nothing is added to them. There has to be a way to keep the supplies coming.”

Quickly catching the drift of the conversation, Mr. Pan asked, “What would that way be?”

“I can’t very well talk about it on the spur of the moment.”

“But I do so wish to hear it!”

“You may not understand it, or even believe it.”

Sensing something mysterious in that remark, Mr. Pan grew all the more eager to be enlightened. The neighbor dismissed all the attendants and whispered into Mr. Pan’s ear, “I have Nine-Cycle pills. They change lead and mercury into gold. If you can turn out such pills, rubble won’t be any less precious than gold!”

That remark about alchemy struck the right chord in Mr. Pan’s mind. All the more intrigued, he said joyfully, “So you’re a master of the art, sir! I’m an eager student trying but failing to get the hang of it. Since you’re well versed in the art, please teach it to me, even if I have to use up all my savings for it!”

“This art is not to be passed on lightly. But we can give it a little try for now, just for your amusement.” So saying, the man instructed a page boy to start a furnace fire and melt several taels of lead and mercury. He then retrieved a paper packet from his waistband and opened the packet to reveal some powder. With his little finger, he picked up a little of the powder and flicked it into the jar in the furnace. By the time the jar was taken out and emptied, all that met the eye was snow-white high-grade silver. The pieces of lead and mercury had disappeared.

Gentle reader, you may argue that since such a powder could change copper or lead into silver, then there is nothing fake about the practice of alchemy. The truth is that this was a trick called the “pre-shrinking” method. Before the demonstration, he extracted the essence of the silver in the furnace with powder, so that each tael shrank to less than one-tenth its original weight. And then, when lead and mercury were added into the flames, the lead and mercury evaporated, leaving dregs that assumed a silvery color on encountering the essence of the silver. The actual weight of the silver remained the same as before the transmutation. This was how alchemists tricked people into believing them with unwavering conviction.

Mr. Pan was beside himself with joy. He thought, “No wonder he’s so rich and extravagant. I never thought producing silver could be so easy. I’ve been at it for a long time now, but I always lose money. I’m lucky that I ran into a real master. I must ask him to turn out some silver for me.” Whereupon he asked the man, “How was the powder made?”

“This is a process called ‘The Mother Silver Giving Birth to Children.’ First, get some silver to serve as the mother, or the base. The amount doesn’t matter. Smelt it with some of the powder and keep it warm in the furnace. When the fire reaches the right temperature after nine cycles, yellow sprouts will come up, followed by snow-white granules. When they’re ready and the lid of the furnace is taken off, scrape off the granules. Each little granule the size of a millet grain changes metals into gold or silver. The silver base will remain there, undiminished in the slightest.”

Mr. Pan asked, “How much silver is needed to serve as the base?”

“The more mother silver you put in, the better the quality of the granules yielded. (MC: Standard language of con men.) If you can harvest half a boxful of them, your wealth will rival that of the empire.”

“I’m no rich man, but a few thousand taels of silver should be within my means. If you’d deign to grace my humble home with your presence and give me a few pointers, I won’t ask for more from life.”

The alchemist replied, “I don’t impart my art to just anybody, nor do I tend the furnace for just anybody. But I’m impressed by your sincerity, and you do have some of the aura of a Daoist immortal about you. It’s written in our karma that we should meet in this place as neighbors. So I guess there’s no harm in doing this for you. Where’s your honorable residence? I can come someday for a visit.”

“I live in Songjiang. It’s only a two or three days’ journey from here. If you’re so inclined, why don’t you pack right now and go with me? If we say good-bye here, there may not be another chance for us to meet, and I’ll miss out on this opportunity.”

“I live in Zhongzhou [a general term for regions of the Yellow River Valley in present-day Henan] with my aged mother. When I left home with my concubine to see the famous scenery of Hangzhou, I didn’t take any money. Whatever expenses we ran into have been paid with what comes out of my furnace. We’ve been having such a good time that we’ve forgotten about returning home. (MC: If so, he should be a real immortal. Why would he need a young concubine?) Now that I’ve met a soul mate in you, I wouldn’t presume to selfishly keep my secret under tight wraps. But let me take my concubine back home first. I’ll also get to see my mother before I pay you a visit at your home. There’s no rush.”

Mr. Pan objected, saying, “I can accommodate the lady in one of my spare houses. It has a garden and a pavilion of its own. She can stay there while you attend to business. Won’t that work out nicely for all of us? I may not be the perfect host, but I certainly won’t be remiss in courtesy to my honored guests and make the lady feel uncomfortable. My only wish is for you to honor me with your presence, for which I’ll be deeply grateful.”

Only then did the alchemist nod and say, “Out of appreciation for your sincerity, I’ll talk to my concubine and prepare for a trip to your home.”

Overwhelmed with joy, Mr. Pan wrote an invitation card right away and invited him to a feast on the lake the next day. When the appointed time came, Mr. Pan lavished attention on his guest, brought him to the boat, and engaged him in an animated conversation in which both tirelessly flaunted their knowledge. (MC: In the end, he is ruined by his learning.) Their only regret was not having met each other earlier. Host and guest did not part until they had thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Mr. Pan then sent a spread of exquisite dishes to the neighboring house for the young concubine. The following day, the alchemist reciprocated the hospitality with an elaborate feast. All the utensils and wine vessels were made of gold or silver, but I need not go into more of such details.

The two men got along so well that, having already enjoyed the lake to the full, they agreed to go together to Songjiang. They hired two large boats at the wharf and had all their luggage carried on board. All along the way, the two of them sat shoulder to shoulder. The young woman sat in the other boat and, from time to time, showed part of her face through the curtain of the window facing the men. Stealing glances at the beauty, Mr. Pan regretted that

With a strip of water between them,

He could not offer words of tender love.

Pei Hang sent the following poem to Madam Fan, who was traveling in the same boat with him:5

We tour Wu and Yue in the same boat,

But a silk screen stands between me and the fairy.

Would that we could meet in fairyland!

Let’s follow divine birds up to the sky!

The same thoughts went through Mr. Pan’s mind as he ogled the beauty in the neighboring boat, feeling frustrated that there was no messenger to carry words to her.

To dispense with idle chatter, let me come to the moment when the two boats arrived in Songjiang a couple of days later and moored in front of Mr. Pan’s house. He invited the alchemist ashore and led him to the main hall of his residence. After tea was served, Mr. Pan said, “This is my main residence. With too many people coming and going, it’s hardly the right place for you. My villa nearby is better for you and the lady. I myself will take the study in the outer wing of the villa. For one thing, it’s quiet in the villa, so we won’t be disturbed by unrelated matters. For another, the privacy of the villa makes it the ideal place for alchemical experiments. What do you think?”

The alchemist said, “The first taboos in alchemy are noises of the mundane world and distractions from unauthorized persons. What’s more, with my concubine by my side, there’s all the more reason for me to stay far away from outsiders. It would indeed be most convenient if we could be put up in your villa.”

Thereupon, Mr. Pan gave instructions for the boats to be moved along the river to his villa, while he and the alchemist walked hand in hand to the villa. On top of the gate was a horizontal board that bore the characters “Garden of Delight.” Once inside, they saw

Ancient trees piercing the sky,

New bamboos lining the borders.

Long rafters sat atop the Moon and Breeze Pavilions;

Grand halls flanked winding paths to quiet dens.

The tall rockeries could store the Grand Historian’s books;

The deep grottos could hold immortals’ talismans.

Music played here could summon phoenixes;

A chess game here could last an eternity.6

Admiring the scenery in the garden, the alchemist cheered, “What a tranquil and tastefully built place! The right place for practicing alchemy! With my concubine nicely installed, I can devote myself to the job you assigned to me. It looks like you’re indeed richly blessed by fate.”

Thereupon, Mr. Pan sent for the young woman. Having dolled herself up, she took along her two maids, Spring Cloud and Autumn Moon, and went to the villa on foot, swaying her hips as she went.

As Mr. Pan half rose from his seat to remove himself from the female presence, the alchemist said, “Now that we’re good friends, it’s all right for you to meet my concubine.” With that, he introduced his concubine and Mr. Pan to each other.

Now that he was face-to-face with the young woman, Mr. Pan saw that, indeed, her beauty could make fish sink and wild geese fall from the sky and put the moon and flowers to shame. All rich men, without exception, are hungry for money and sex. (MC: This observation hits home.) At this point, Mr. Pan began to feel weak in the legs, like a snow lion melting away by the fire. The business of alchemy was relegated to the backseat. He said to the alchemist, “The bedchambers in the villa are all quite spacious. Please feel free to pick a suite to the young lady’s liking. If she needs more maids, I’ll give her a few.”

While the alchemist and his concubine were checking out the bedchambers, Mr. Pan hurried back to his own quarters and took out a pair of gold hairpins and a pair of good bracelets. Then he went to the villa and offered them to the alchemist, saying, “This is my paltry First Meeting gift for the lady. (MC: The temerity!) Please don’t take offense at its humbleness.”

The alchemist could tell at first glance that the items were made of gold. With studied unconcern he said in demurral, “This is too much. I can easily produce gold. It troubles me to think that you spent so heavily on them. I won’t take them.”

Feeling all the more apologetic at his guest’s refusal to take his gift, Mr. Pan said, “I know that you don’t care for such trifles, but this is just a small token of my respect for the lady. Please accept it out of regard for my sincerity.”

“I’d be putting too much distance between us if I insisted on rejecting your kindness. I’ll have to oblige and accept it. Please allow me to do my best to make a success of my alchemy assignment and repay you for your lavish hospitality.”

All smiles, the alchemist went to the chosen bedchamber and had a maid carry the gift inside. Then he brought his concubine out to express her thanks to the host. To Mr. Pan, it was worth the expense to have this one chance to see her again. Without saying anything out loud, he thought, “This man is in possession of the art of alchemy and this beauty. What more blessings can one ask from life? I’m glad that he’s willing to practice his art for me. It should be just a matter of days before the job is completed. (IC: Don’t be so sure.) But with this beauty in my own villa, I wonder if I have a predestined bond with her. I won’t be content until I can have my way with her. Now let me give her some thoughtful attentions, and if I don’t succeed at first, I’ll keep trying. Let me take my time.” As he began to make arrangements for the alchemical experiment, he asked the alchemist, “Since you deigned to accept this job, when are we going to start?”

“Any time, as long as we have some mother silver.”

“How much do you need to begin with?”

“The more, the better. The more base silver there is, the greater the production, and we’ll be spared the trouble of repeating the process over and over again.”

“In that case, I’ll put two thousand taels of silver in the furnace. I need to take care of some business at my main residence today, so please excuse my absence, but I’ll move here tomorrow and join you in the operation.” That evening, a feast was laid out in the villa, and they did not part company until they had thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Mr. Pan also had wine and food sent to the young lady’s suite. I will spare the reader details of his assiduous attention to his female guest.

The next day, Mr. Pan weighed out exactly two thousand taels of silver and had the silver carried to the villa along with the furnace and relevant utensils that had long been in his possession. No stranger to the art, Mr. Pan knew what to do and gathered together all the necessary ingredients, including lead and mercury. (MC: This suffices to show that he is quite an aficionado.) As he presented them to the alchemist, the latter said, “You’re indeed meticulous in your preparations, but I have a secret formula that’s quite unusual. You’ll see after I start the fire.”

Mr. Pan said, “It’s precisely your secret formula that I wish you could pass on to me.”

“My elixir is called ‘Elixir of Nine Cycles.’ Every nine days of firing make up one cycle. After nine cycles, a total of eighty-one days, the lid of the furnace can be removed for the harvesting of the pills. That will be your moment of great bliss.”

“That will all be thanks to you!”

The alchemist summoned one of the servants he had brought with him and began to apply his method. They built a fire and slowly put in silver as the base. Then he showed Mr. Pan his prescriptions and added several rare ingredients. When multicolored wisps of smoke arose, he and Mr. Pan sealed the furnace together. The alchemist then called forth the servants who had followed him to the villa and told them, “I’ll stay here for about three months. You go home and tell my mother about this and then come back.” He kept only one or two servants who were practiced hands at smelting metals, and all the others dispersed as he had instructed.

From that day onward, the servants watched the furnace day and night, whereas the alchemist went to the furnace from time to time to check the color of the flames, but he did not give orders to remove the lid of the furnace. He spent his leisure time chatting, drinking, and playing chess with Mr. Pan. That host and guest enjoyed their time together goes without saying. Mr. Pan also kept sending things to the young lady so as to win her favor, and the young lady, on her part, sometimes reciprocated with a few articles that she thought he might like.

Suddenly, after more than twenty days had passed in like manner, a man wearing white hempen mourning clothes and sweating all over barged into the villa. He was soon recognized as one of the alchemist’s servants who had been sent back to his home. On seeing the alchemist, the servant kowtowed and burst into wails of grief. “The old mistress passed,” he said. “Please go home immediately to take care of the funeral.”

The news so shocked the alchemist that all color drained from his face, and he collapsed to the ground in a flood of tears. (MC: How does he manage to call up a flood of tears on the spur of the moment?) Mr. Pan was also appalled, but he could do no more than offer some words of comfort. “Your mother lived out her allowed life span,” said he. “Excessive grief doesn’t do any good. Please restrain your grief.”

The servant pressed further, “No one is in charge in the household now. Please go quickly!”

The alchemist stopped crying and said to Mr. Pan, “I planned to complete this job for you so as to repay you for your kindness. I never imagined I’d be hit by this tragedy at this time. I’ll regret this to the end of my life. As things stand now, I can’t stay here, but the job hasn’t been completed, and it’s not something you can stop and resume later. I’m really in a dilemma. My concubine may be just a woman, but she’s been with me for a long time now and knows quite a thing or two about alchemy. It would be good if she could stay on to keep watch over the furnace, and yet she’s young, and there will be no one to discipline her. I’d hate to inconvenience you.”

Mr. Pan said, “That’s not a problem for close friends like us! Just leave the lady with me. The furnace is in a quiet spot with no unauthorized people around. I’ll have a few older, more discreet women keep her company. At night, I’ll take her to my wife and have her sleep in my wife’s room. (MC: Taking her to his own room would be much more convenient.) I’ll keep watch over the villa while waiting for your return. What inconvenience are you talking about? As for tea and meals, I won’t be remiss in my duty.”

After hesitating for a good while, the alchemist said, “With my mother’s death, my mind is a shambles. As far as I recall from history, there was no lack of ancients who left their wives and children in other people’s care. Given our friendship, I respectfully defer to you. Yes, she can stay here to watch the fire. After I’m done with the funeral, I’ll come back to complete the transmutation and remove the lid. That’s the only way for me to fulfill both obligations.”

On hearing the man agree to leave his concubine behind, Mr. Pan wished he could offer half the sky to him as repayment. Smiling from ear to ear, he said obsequiously, “This shows that you follow through on what you start.” (MC: He may not follow through all the way to the end.)

The alchemist went to the bedchamber in the interior of the house and told the woman about everything, after which he led her out to greet the host again and put her under Mr. Pan’s charge. He then cautioned Mr. Pan with these words: “Keep good watch over the furnace. Be sure not to open the lid on your own. If you make a mistake, regrets will be too late.”

Mr. Pan asked, “But what if you’re detained and fail to return after the ninth cycle is completed?”

“The longer the product stays in the furnace after the ninth cycle is over, the higher the yield will be. So it’s all right to open the lid a little later.”

After exchanging some confidential words with the young woman (MC: Instructions about his ingenious plan.), the alchemist went off in a hurry.

Now, Mr. Pan did not worry about the alchemical operation because the concubine was still there and the alchemist himself would certainly return in good time. What occupied his mind was how to take advantage of the alchemist’s absence and seduce the woman while she was in his villa. Such an opportunity was not to be missed, and he spent every waking moment searching his mind for a way to make his move. It so happened that while he was indulging in these wild thoughts, the young woman’s maid Spring Cloud, acting on her instructions, came to him and said, “My mistress would like to invite you, sir, to the furnace room to check the furnace.”

On hearing this invitation, Mr. Pan hurriedly straightened his clothes and his cap and rushed to the young woman’s bedchamber. He said, “Young lady, your maid relayed your order to me, and here I am, to wait for you and go with you to the furnace room.”

In her coquettish voice, the young woman said, “Please go ahead first, sir. I’ll follow you.” Having said that, she emerged from her room with her charming way of walking and greeted Mr. Pan with a curtsy.

Mr. Pan said, “You’re the guest, madam. How would I dare precede you?”

“I’m but a woman. How could I give myself airs?”

As they deferred to each other, they refrained from physical contact, but the verbal exchanges, face-to-face, were significant enough. In the end, Mr. Pan let her precede him, followed by the two maids. Watching the young woman from behind, Mr. Pan felt as if a lotus flower appeared with every step she took. It was hardly surprising that he was seized with desire.

On reaching the furnace room, the young woman turned to the two maids and said, “This room is off limits to people who aren’t supposed to be there. You two stay outside. Only the host can go in.”

As soon as he heard these instructions, Mr. Pan half trotted to the door (MC: Obligingly.) and went into the room with her. As they checked the sealed furnace, front and back, Mr. Pan wished he could find a swig of water with which to swallow her whole. (MC: Can such a lustful man expect to succeed as an alchemist?) What did he care if the fire in the furnace was green, red, black, or white! Too bad there was a furnace attendant in the room, which meant that he could only limit himself to some amorous glances. Even a flippant word was not possible. Only when they were back at the door did Mr. Pan say cheekily, “Thank you, madam, for making this trip. In your husband’s absence, you must feel lonely in your room.”

The young woman smiled slightly without saying a word. (MC: Bewitching.) This time, she did not defer to Mr. Pan but went ahead of him with unhurried steps.

Mr. Pan was sent into greater raptures. He thought, “If there had been no one else in the furnace room today, I would have been able to have some fun with her. That furnace attendant was a killjoy. I’ll have to think of a way to get rid of him tomorrow. I’ll then ask her to go with me to check the furnace. That will be a good time to make my move.”

That evening he told his servants, “Tomorrow morning, prepare a fine feast in honor of that furnace attendant and tell him that it’s to show my gratitude to him for his hard work. Be sure to get him drunk.” Having given these instructions, he drank by himself but felt bored. The thought that the beauty was in the vicinity and the memory of what had happened during the day set his heart aflutter. Feeling listless, he intoned a poem:

A prized flower from a famous garden

Is transplanted to a spot in the hills,

Little knowing that outside the railings,

The spring breeze is offering its service.

Then he went into the hall and intoned the poem several more times at the top of his voice for the benefit of the one in the adjoining bedchamber. Soon, the maid Autumn Moon emerged from the room, carrying a cup of tea in her hands. “My mistress heard you intone a poem, sir,” said she. “She’s afraid that you might be thirsty and offers you green tea.”

A huge grin split Mr. Pan’s face as he said his thanks over and over again. After Autumn Moon went in again, he heard the young woman chant:

Who is the master of the prized flower?

It floats wherever the spring breeze takes it.

So long as Spring God shows it affection,

Its tender heart is similarly inclined.

Mr. Pan caught on to the inviting tone, but he dared not barge in rashly. On hearing her bedroom door being bolted, he gave up and returned to his own room to sleep and wait for daybreak. (MC: How is he going to make it through the night?)

The next morning, as instructed, the servants invited the furnace attendant to a feast. The man had been bored to death, watching the furnace day in and day out. Now that he was offered a wine cup, nothing could stop him from doing justice to the wine. He drank himself into a stupor and dropped off to sleep outside. Knowing that the man was not in the furnace room, Mr. Pan went to the young woman’s door to invite her to check the furnace. On hearing him, she came out and walked ahead of him, as she had done the day before. When she went through the door of the furnace room, Mr. Pan followed closely on her heels and entered the room, but the maid stayed outside. On reaching the furnace and realizing that the attendant was nowhere in sight, the young woman said in feigned alarm, “Why is the attendant not here? And why did he put out the fire?”

All smiles, Mr. Pan replied, “I told him to put out the fire for now because I myself have a fire to build.”

Pretending not to understand him, she exclaimed, “But that fire should not be put out!”

“Why don’t the two of us unite and build up a real fire?”

Putting on a stern face, she said, “How can a student of alchemy and the Dao have such improper thoughts and make such improper remarks!” (MC: When has he ever been a student of the Dao?)

Mr. Pan said, “Didn’t your husband sleep here with you, and wasn’t he also engaged in alchemy? Don’t tell me he did nothing as a husband!”

At a loss for words for a moment, she said, “This is a proper pursuit, and yet you’re being so silly.”

“To fulfill my predestined bond of love with you is also a proper pursuit.” So saying, he abruptly put his arms around her and sank to his knees.

The young woman raised him to his feet and said, “My husband keeps strict discipline. I shouldn’t get out of line, but on the other hand, my self-respect shouldn’t stop me from acknowledging your assiduous attentions to me. Let’s talk this evening.”

“I beg you to be so kind as to grant my wish just this once, right here. Why wait until evening?”

The young woman said, “No, not here! Someone might come in!”

“In order to be with you, I’ve already arranged to keep the furnace attendant busy elsewhere. No one else will come in. What’s more, the furnace room is in a secluded spot. No one will know.”

“But this is an alchemical furnace. Any affront to it will have consequences. (MC: The source of all trouble to come.) Regrets will be too late. So this will never do.”

By now, Mr. Pan was in the grip of lust. This was no time to care about affronting the furnace. (MC: He can contain himself no longer.) He gathered the woman tightly in his arms and said, “I don’t care even if I have to die for it. You must help me out, now!” Without bothering to ask if she was willing or not, he carried her to a reclining couch, pulled off her pants, and had his way with her. The ensuing ecstasy was not any less in intensity than if he had ascended to heaven as an immortal. Behold:

The one string on the lute trembled;

The holeless xiao pipe moved up and down.

The red stove burned with evil flames;

The black furnace churned with true lead.

The tongue stirring the pond

Was moist with fragrant wine;

The vital fluids wetting the petal

Brought joy as the body drank the nectar.

Why even bother to make elixirs?

Here and now came the ultimate bliss! (MC: A state of turmoil, as the Daoists would say.)

After their storm of clouds and rain was over, they straightened their clothes, and Mr. Pan said, “Thank you for accepting me, but the joy was over too soon. Please give me another chance tonight and make the fun last the whole night through!” With a plop, he fell on his knees again.

The young woman promptly raised him to his feet and said, “I did set aside this evening for you, didn’t I? But you had to be so impatient. How could anyone do this next to an alchemical furnace?” (MC: The transmutation is going to fail anyway. Why not “do this” while he can?)

“If I had passed up that earlier opportunity, regrets would have been too late. At least I managed to get some fun.”

The young woman then said, “This evening, shall I come to your study, or will you come to my bedroom?”

“Whatever you say.”

“My two maids sleep with me in the same room. So that’s not an option. I’ll just slip out when they’re not looking. Tomorrow, I’ll give them some instructions and then bring you to my room.”

That night, after all became quiet, the young woman did indeed emerge from her room into the anteroom of the main hall, where Mr. Pan was waiting. He then took her to his study, where they fulfilled their desires to the utmost. Henceforth, they indulged in the pleasures of the pillow either in her bedroom or in his study, with no restraint whatsoever. Mr. Pan kept marveling at his extraordinary good luck and wished that the husband would never return. If the alchemy operation was going to fail, well, so be it!

After they had indulged in sexual pleasures for more than ten nights in a row, the gatekeeper suddenly announced one day that the alchemist had returned. (IC: So soon!) Mr. Pan gave a violent start. He went out to greet the alchemist and led him into the hall. After an exchange of amenities, he went to the young woman’s bedroom and talked with her at some length before returning to the hall.

“The young lady says that the furnace hasn’t been touched,” he told Mr. Pan. “Now that the eighty-one-day cycle is over, the transmutation should have been completed, and this should be the right time to remove the lid to check the result. But it would be too hasty to do this today. Let’s do it tomorrow after first making an offering to the gods.”

That night, even though the young woman was not his to enjoy, Mr. Pan was nonetheless pleased at the prospect of harvesting gold and silver the next day now that the alchemist had returned. (MC: He is a fool not so much because he wants to enjoy the young woman but because he is pleased at the prospect of harvesting gold and silver. And a big fool at that.)

The next day, Mr. Pan respectfully bought some paper horses and other sacrificial offerings and held a prayer service. As soon as he and the alchemist entered the furnace room, the latter’s face darkened. He looked thoughtful for a while and then said, “What happened to the air in this room? There’s something strange about it.” Opening the lid of the furnace with his hands, he stomped his foot and cried out, “It’s ruined! The granules have vanished. Even the silver base is now a heap of useless dregs. Someone must be guilty of committing an affront to the furnace by engaging in filthy conduct.”

Mr. Pan said nothing but turned pale with fright because the alchemist had spoken the truth. Gnashing his teeth, the alchemist turned to the furnace attendant and asked angrily, “Who else has been in this room?”

“Apart from the master of the house and the young lady, who come to check the furnace once a day, no one else would dare to come in.”

“If so, how would you explain the failure?” asked the alchemist. “Go get the woman for me!”

The attendant accordingly went and brought the young woman to the furnace room.

The alchemist said harshly, “Weren’t you supposed to be watching the furnace? What did you do that ruined everything in it?”

“I came with Mr. Pan every day to check the furnace and always found the furnace sealed and untouched. I have no idea why this has happened.”

“Did I say anything about the furnace being sealed or not? You’re the one who’s been unsealed!”

Turning to the attendant again, the alchemist continued, “Were you here every time she and Mr. Pan came?”

The attendant replied, “There was one time when Mr. Pan said I had been working too hard, so he invited me to dinner. I drank too much and slept outside, and that was the only time when Mr. Pan and the young lady were here and I was not.”

With an icy smile, the alchemist said, “That explains it!” Without a moment’s delay, he went to extract a leather whip from his luggage (MC: A dramatic move.) and, on returning, said to the young woman, “It’s all too clear that you, filthy whore, are to blame!”

As he flicked her with the whip, she dodged and said tearfully, “I did protest against doing that! Mr. Pan ruined me!”

His eyes popping wide, Mr. Pan could not find his tongue. How he wished for a hole in the ground that he could vanish into!

Turning furious eyes on him, the alchemist said, “What did you say the other day when I entrusted her to you? What a shameless thing you did so soon after I was gone! You’re worse than a dog or a pig! (MC: True.) How can such a villain even hope to engage in alchemy! Oh well, I’m a poor judge of character. I just have to beat that filthy whore to death for bringing disgrace to my name. Why would I want to keep her?” Holding his whip, he ran after the young woman as she fled into her bedroom.

The two maids, to their credit, blocked his way and said, “Master, please calm down.” Each of them got whipped once, but then the whip broke in half.

Not knowing how this violent outburst was to end, Mr. Pan saw nothing for it but to fall on his knees and apologize. “I did wrong in the excitement of the moment. I don’t mind the loss of the silver I offered you the other day. (MC: To his credit, he is generous enough.) I only ask for your forgiveness.”

The alchemist said, “You brought this on yourself ! You did an evil thing, so it’s only right that you lost your silver. You have no one to blame but yourself. Did I put my beloved woman at your disposal so that you could satisfy your lust? What am I going to do now that you’ve soiled her? Let me kill her off ! And then it will be time for you to die. A life for a life!”

Mr. Pan said, “I’ll gladly make reparations.” Eagerly he told a servant to go to his main residence and bring back two ingots of silver. When the ingots were brought to him, he held them in his hands and begged, on his knees, for mercy.

With feigned unconcern, the alchemist said, “I can churn out silver easily. Why would I care about that?”

Busily kowtowing, Mr. Pan added two hundred taels (MC: A tithe of the two thousand taels of silver he already paid.) and said, “This sum of money should be enough for you to take another concubine. It honestly was all my fault. Please forgive the young lady for the sake of our friendship before this happened!”

“I don’t care about your silver,” said the alchemist. “It’s just that people like you won’t repent and reform unless you suffer a monetary loss. (MC: If he repents and reforms, whom are you going to live off ?) So I will take the silver. It can serve some useful purpose if I give it away to help the poor.” And so he stuffed the three hundred taels into his trunk. Then he called together the young woman and his servants, male and female, and hastened to have all their clothes and luggage carried onto the boat on which they had come. As he left the gate, he kept grumbling aloud, “How abominable! To be humiliated like this!” And he kept up a stream of curses as the boat set out.

Shocked out of his senses, Mr. Pan had been afraid only that matters might get out of hand. Now that the alchemist had left of his own accord, he counted himself a lucky fellow in spite of his monetary loss. As for the silver in the furnace, he bought the alchemist’s story that the affront done to the furnace caused the failure. But he was not without regrets. “I was too hasty,” he thought. “I should have waited for the transmutation to succeed and kept them for a longer stay before I tried my chance with her. Wouldn’t I have had it both ways? And it would have been all right if I hadn’t done it in the furnace room. I was just too reckless. The loss of money would hardly matter, but it’s too bad that the transmutation failed even though I engaged an accomplished alchemist. (MC: A fool through and through.) Really too bad!” Then he consoled himself by thinking, “But I did manage to have fun with a beautiful woman for some time. That’s an escapade worth bragging about, and what a delight it was! There’s no need to be regretful.” It never occurred to him that he was in fact the victim of a scam.

Back when the alchemist was staying at West Lake, he had learned that a rich man, Mr. Pan, would soon be traveling there, and so he made arrangements for all that show of wealth, to impress Pan. When the latter invited him home, he feigned indifference and deliberately dragged his feet. When a messenger came to announce his mother’s death, he left in a hurry with the two thousand taels of silver offered by Mr. Pan, “lifting the jar” and leaving the woman behind so as not to arouse suspicions. Later, Mr. Pan’s dalliance with the woman was in fact part of his scheme, aimed at incriminating Mr. Pan, so that the guilty party, once found out, would feel too embarrassed to say anything in his own defense, would blame himself, and therefore would not bother to call him to account. Mr. Pan, destined for a loss of money at this time, fell into the trap. He took the alchemist to be a man of immense wealth and a bona fide alchemist, little knowing that the golden and silver utensils were made of copper and lead and only plated with melted gold and silver. Under the influence of wine and by candlelight, who would think of testing the utensils with a touchstone? So he had been fooled in a distracted moment by an ingenious ruse.

But Mr. Pan did not awaken to the truth after being cheated out of his money. He blamed himself for having missed a good opportunity, and his enthusiasm for alchemy only increased. One day, another alchemist came to him, and they found each other so agreeable in their conversation about alchemy that Mr. Pan invited him home and said to him, “Some time ago, I had a guest who could change iron into gold. He demonstrated his art to me and had the furnace fire going for me, but then I got on the wrong side of him in a small way, and he left before the job was completed. It was really a shame.”

“Are you saying my art is inferior to his?” said the alchemist. He asked that his skills be put to the test at the furnace, and, sure enough, they proved to be equal to those of the first alchemist. (MC: If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.) The pinch of powder that he tossed onto the lead and mercury changed them into silver.

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Mr. Pan. “It didn’t work out last time, but it will surely work this time around!” As before, he offered silver to the alchemist, this time one thousand taels, so that he could produce more of it. The alchemist went out to summon a few assistants for the job. Having witnessed how the alchemist had easily transmuted base metals into silver, Mr. Pan grew bolder and saw no need to be on his guard. As it turned out, the group of men made off with his silver before the night was out, as he realized the following day.

By this time, having been cheated once again, Mr. Pan found that his fortune had dwindled. Enraged by the humiliation, he thought, “I went to such lengths and spent so many years on this business. Having missed the opportunity last time, I pinned my hopes on this one, and yet I was hit with another loss. Let me go out and search for those men, though I have no idea where they are. They must be performing alchemy at someone’s home. Maybe I’ll run into them, for all I know. If not, I may meet a true alchemist who will turn out gold and silver for me.” (MC: Still cherishing the illusion.) Thereupon, he packed and set out on a wandering journey.

One day, he ran smack into the second alchemist’s assistants on a crowded street by Chang Gate in Suzhou. Before he could burst out with an angry word, the men, all calm and composed and beaming with smiles, grabbed his arm as cheerfully as if they had met an old friend in an alien land. They invited him to a grand restaurant and sat down around a nice, clean table. After ordering warm wine and food, one of the men said to him, all humility, “We’re deeply sorry for having played you false last time. But this is how we make a living, so please don’t take offense. Now I have a plan to compensate you for your loss. Please don’t say no.”

“What’s the plan?”

“We’ve spent all of what we took from you, so we have nothing on hand with which to repay you. Now, there’s a rich man in Shandong who has contracted us to perform alchemy for him. As soon as our master arrives, the man will deliver his silver to us. But our master is away traveling and won’t be here anytime soon. Now you can pose as our master. After the silver is delivered, we’ll give the silver to you by way of compensation. Won’t that be as easy as turning a hand over? Otherwise, it’s pointless for you to try and settle accounts with us. What do you say?”

“Who’s your master this time?”

“He’s an ascetic monk. If you shave off some of your hair and let us honor you as our master (IC: Intriguing.), we can go to the man and pull this off.”

In his eagerness to lay his hands on the silver, Mr. Pan had his hair shaved, as suggested. The men deferentially danced attendance on him all the way to the rich man’s house in Shandong. Claiming to have brought their master, they were ushered in. The rich man respectfully greeted them (MC: Here comes another victim.) and, in the main hall, engaged them in a conversation about alchemy. Being a practiced hand with much to say about the subject, Mr. Pan waxed eloquent and held forth on the dos and don’ts of the practice, much to the rich man’s admiration. That very evening, the host weighed out two thousand taels of silver and agreed to start a fire the next day. The men plied him with wine until he drank himself silly and had to be carried off to a study in the interior of the house to sleep.

It was after daybreak when the men began to talk about getting the furnace ready. While they were assigning jobs to everyone, Mr. Pan, with his expertise, also gave instructions left and right. (MC: Thousands of taels have been paid as tuition.) That day, they added the rich man’s silver to the furnace for smelting. While the men, as apprentices, watched the furnace, the rich man, wishing to get Mr. Pan’s advice, invited him for a chat over a few cups of wine. It was an invitation that could hardly be turned down. While the coast was clear, the men took the silver and bolted, “lifting the jar” and leaving the “master” behind.

The rich man thought nothing could be amiss as long as the master was in his house, but the next morning, when he learned that the apprentices had all disappeared, he seized the master and threatened to take him to the authorities and hunt down his accomplices.

Sobbing, Mr. Pan said, “I’m Pan from Songjiang. I’m no cohort of those men. Because of my passion for alchemy, they pulled a scam on me some time ago. When I ran into them on the street the other day, they told me that since they were on their way to your house to perform alchemy, they could compensate me. Then they cut my hair and made me pose as their master. I was hoping to get back what I’d lost, but as it turned out, they even fooled you and left me behind.” With that, he broke into a violent fit of sobs. The rich man questioned him further on his background and found every answer credible, for it turned out that Mr. Pan’s wealthy clan in Songjiang had a long-standing friendship with his own clan. Convinced that Mr. Pan was indeed the victim of a scam, he could not bring himself to come down hard on him and felt obliged to set him free.

With no money for traveling expenses, Mr. Pan begged for food in his attire as a mendicant monk. (MC: As a victim of a scam, he lost his hair but gained goodwill from donors.)

On reaching Linqing Wharf, Mr. Pan saw a beautiful woman watching the street from behind a raised curtain in a large boat, exposing her face. He thought he must have seen her before. Upon a closer look, he recognized her to be the first alchemist’s concubine, the one who had committed adultery with him. He wondered, “Why is she in that boat?” So he went up to the boat and asked around. It turned out that the boat had been hired by a young scholar on his way to the capital for the civil service examinations at the national level and that the woman was a celebrated courtesan in his service. Mr. Pan thought, “So did the man sell his concubine?” But then he thought, “Or maybe this woman just looks like her?”

As he kept pacing to and fro by the boat, staring into it, a servant emerged from inside and said to him, “The lady in the cabin wants to know if you’re from Songjiang.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Might you be Mr. Pan?”

Startled, Mr. Pan asked, “How does she know my name?”

At this point, the woman in the cabin said, “Ask him to approach the boat.”

When Mr. Pan did, the woman behind the curtain said, “I’m none other than the woman the alchemist presented as his concubine. I’m in fact a courtesan from Henan. In order to fulfill a promise, I had to obey him and help him play that trick on you. I’ve done you wrong. But why are you in this place and in such a state?”

Crippled with grief, Mr. Pan told her about how he had been scammed time and again and what had led to his return journey from Shandong.

From behind the curtain, the woman said, “I mustn’t be cold and heartless toward you. Let me give you some money for your journey home, so that you can reach home sooner. (MC: The prostitute is a much kinder person than the alchemist.) If you meet alchemists again in the future, please be sure not to believe them. As someone involved in one such scam, I know what a deceitful lot they are. Offering this advice to you is my way of repaying you for your love for all those nights.” Having said that, she had a servant present Mr. Pan with a packet containing three taels of silver. Overwhelmed with gratitude, Mr. Pan took it. He realized only then that the alchemist had hired a prostitute for a sex trap, and now, to her credit, she was paying for his traveling expenses.

After returning home, Mr. Pan recalled the woman’s advice with much emotion and stopped believing in alchemy. (IC: Too late.) Although he remained a non-believer the rest of his life, all of his relatives and friends who witnessed his unkempt hair and heard about what had happened to him made him a figure of fun. All those who are given to alchemy, be advised: Take warning from this story!

Alchemists must first quench their carnal desires;

All bonds are predestined. Why run around?

Lustful men greedy for metal transmutations

Are only indulging in impossible dreams.