Pathway to Japanese Literature

Lianxiang

Sang-sheng was born in Suzhou, his given name Xiao and style name Ziming; having lost both parents at a young age, he had taken lodgings in a place called Honghuabu.
This Sang was a man who by nature delighted in quiet, peaceful living; aside from going to his eastern neighbor’s house for meals, he remained properly seated in his own quarters.
That day, the man from the eastern neighbor came and joked.

“You’re all alone here—aren’t you scared of ghosts and foxes?”

Sang said,

“What’s the use of a man cowering before ghosts and foxes? If they come, I’ve got my sword here. And if it’s a woman, I’d open the gate and let her in.”

The neighbor returned home, but that night consulted with friends, brought a courtesan along, placed a ladder against the wall to have her enter through the gate, and made her knock on the door with a clatter.
Sang peered cautiously,

“Who’s there?”

he asked.
The courtesan,

“I have come here after losing my way.”

said.
Sang was utterly terrified, his teeth chattering uncontrollably as he trembled violently.
The courtesan, seeing this, backed away cautiously and departed.

The Eastern Neighbor went to Sang’s study early the next morning.

“Last night was quite an ordeal!”

and recounted that a woman not of this world had come,

“I’ve already made up my mind to leave,”
he said.
The neighbor clapped his hands and said,
“Why didn’t you open the gate and let her in? If it was a woman, you should’ve welcomed her like you said!”

Sang realized there that it had been his friend's prank.
And so, relieved, he abandoned his plans to leave.

Half a year passed.

One night, there came a knock at the chamber door.

“Hello? Hello?”

It was a woman’s voice.
Sang, thinking it must be another prank by a friend, opened the door and let her in.
She was a beautiful young woman.
Sang asked in surprise.

“Who are you?”

“I’m called Lianxiang—a courtesan from the western quarter.”

Since there were many brothel districts in Honghuabu where he resided, Sang did not doubt the woman’s words. Thereupon, they extinguished the candle and talked together.

From then on, the woman began coming regularly every third or fourth day. One night, as Sang sat alone thinking of the woman, a woman fluttered in. Sang, thinking Lianxiang had come, rose and went to meet her.

“You’ve come.”

As he spoke, he looked at her face.
This was a woman different from Lianxiang.
She appeared barely fifteen or sixteen—a graceful girl with long sleeves and braided hair.
Sang grew deeply startled and wondered if she might be a fox.
The woman said:

“I am a maiden of the Li household. Having long admired your noble character—pray do not forget me.”

Sang joyfully clasped her hand, but it felt cold as ice.
Sang inquired:

“Why are you so cold?”
“With such a small body like mine coming from that cold place, you see.”

And then the woman spoke again.

“I am still young, yet my constitution is weak. Moreover, I suddenly lost father and mother, and there remains none to care for me. Were you not to take me in... but surely you must have a wife.”

Sang said.

“There’s no such person, but the courtesan from next door does come by—though not regularly.”

The woman said.

“If that lady comes, I shall withdraw. I’m not like those others—so long as you keep silent about me. When she arrives, I’ll leave, and once she departs, I’ll come.”

The rooster crowed, and the woman departed. As she left, she gave him an embroidered shoe and said.

“This is something I wore on my foot. If you fiddle with this and think of me, I’ll come to you anytime. But don’t play with it where others might see.”

Sang received it and looked at it.
It was curved like a claw-tipped awl used to untie knots.
Sang rejoiced immensely in his heart.
When the next night came and Lianxiang still hadn’t arrived, Sang took out that embroidered shoe and, while thinking of the woman, fiddled with it.
Then Li floated in.
The two of them once again engaged in amiable conversation.

From then on, whenever he took out the embroidered shoe and thought of her, Li would come.
Sang found this strange and asked.

"How do you know when I take out the shoe?"

Li laughed and said.

“Well, it’s because whenever I think of coming, you just happen to take out the embroidered shoe.”

One night, Lianxiang came and exclaimed in surprise.

“Why have you become so weak? You look terribly pale.”

Sang said.

"Hmm, I don't really feel any different myself."

Lianxiang then bade farewell and departed. When departing, they made a promise to meet on the tenth day. After Lianxiang had left, Li came again. Li came every single night without fail. One night, Li said:
“Your beloved hasn’t shown her face at all lately, has she?”
Sang, at that point, replied:
“I’ve made a promise that she’ll come on the tenth day.”
Then Li laughed and said:
“Do you think I’m a better woman than Ms. Lianxiang?”

“That’s—both of them are lovely women. It’s just that Lianxiang’s skin is warm, you see.”

Sang said.
Li’s face changed,

“You say we’re both fine women, but that’s just because you’re telling me this, isn’t it? Ms. Lianxiang is a celestial maiden from the Moon Palace—how could someone like me ever compare?”

With that, she put on a gloomy expression.
And then she counted on her fingers.
She was calculating the promised day when Lianxiang would come.
The promised ten days had already arrived.
Li said.

“Tomorrow night, I’ll quietly sneak a peek at Ms. Lianxiang—please don’t let her know, all right?”

When the next night came, Lianxiang indeed arrived.
The two entered the room and engaged in lively conversation.
And when they lay down to rest, Lianxiang started violently and exclaimed.

“Good heavens! Has your health deteriorated so in just ten days apart? You must have found another lover.”

Sang said.

“How do you know that?”

“When I tested you with my spiritual energy, your pulse was disordered—this is caused by a possessing spirit.”

The next night, Li came.
Sang said.

“How did it go last night when you peeked at Lianxiang?”

Li said.

“She’s beautiful,” Li said, “but when I realized no human could possess such beauty, she proved indeed to be a fox. I followed Ms. Lianxiang when she left—she entered a cave in the southern mountains.”

Sang dismissed this as mere jealousy from Li, handling the matter lightly.
The following night brought Lianxiang’s return.
With playful levity, Sang remarked,

“I don’t really believe it myself, but someone says you’re a fox.”

“How many people? How many have said such a thing?”

Lianxiang pressed urgently.
Sang laughed.

“It was my joke.”

Lianxiang said.

“Even if I were a fox, where exactly would I differ from a human?”

“Foxes bewitch people, don’t they? If you’re possessed by one and your illness worsens, you’ll die, won’t you? That’s scary.”

Lianxiang said.

“That’s not true at all. For a man of your age, vitality recovers by the third day—even if I were a fox, I’d cause no harm. Many in this world perish from consumption—do people die solely from foxes’ mischief? There must be someone slandering me.”

Sang said with effort,
“There’s no such thing.”
“There most certainly is! Tell me—go on, tell me!”
As Lianxiang pressed him relentlessly, Sang had no choice but to speak.
“Actually... there’s someone who visits.”

Lianxiang said,
“Of course! I’ve long wondered about your weakening condition—what could have caused such a sudden decline in your health? It can’t be human, can it? You must keep silent about this. Just as that person spied on me tomorrow night, I’ll spy on them in return.”

When night fell and Li came to exchange a few words with Sang, a cough sounded from outside the window.
Then Li abruptly fled.
At that moment, Lianxiang entered and said.

“You’re in grave danger—she’s indeed not human! Sever ties without hesitation—your path to the underworld draws near!”

Sang thought this was Lianxiang’s jealousy, so he remained silent without uttering a word.
Lianxiang rose and said:

“I know you’re ensnared by that woman’s charms, but even so, I cannot bring myself to kill you. Tomorrow I’ll bring medicine to cure your illness—since it hasn’t yet grown severe, ten days will suffice for recovery. I’ll stay by your side and await your healing.”

The following night, Lianxiang brought medicine and made Sang drink it.
Before long, Sang's stomach felt refreshed and his spirit became clear.
Sang thanked Lianxiang in his heart, but he did not believe it to be a ghost illness.
Lianxiang remained constantly at Sang's bedside from that night onward.

After a few days, Sang's body had filled out.
And when Sang's body had returned to its former state, Lianxiang departed, but at their parting she pressed her case.

"Is that acceptable? You must sever all ties."

Sang had no intention of severing ties, but finding it a hassle,
“Sure thing, I’ll definitely cut them off,”
he said.
Then, after seeing Lianxiang out and closing the door, he trimmed the lamp’s wick, took out those embroidered shoes, and while fiddling with them, thought of Li.
Li came at once, but as several days had passed since their last meeting, she seemed deeply resentful.
Sang said,
“Because Lianxiang healed my illness, we couldn’t meet. Come now, there’s no need to be so angry—everything remains here in my heart.”

At that, Li’s emotions began to soften.
Sang whispered into Li’s ear.
“I love you, but there’s someone who claims you’re not human.”

Li fell silent.
Then after a while, she burst into anger.

“That fox must have said it! If you don’t cut ties with her, I won’t come back.”

Finally, Li burst into convulsive sobs.
Sang, at a loss, said various things to placate her, and she finally calmed down.

The following night, Lianxiang came, but upon learning that Li had visited again, she became furious.

“Are you truly so eager to die?”

Sang laughed and said,
"You're getting too worked up."

Lianxiang grew even more furious.

“Didn’t I finally remove the roots of the fatal illness you let take root? That woman won’t stop—what does she mean to do with you?”

At that, Sang, intending to dodge her words, made a joke.

“She said my recent illness was a fox’s curse, you know.”

“Is that so?” Lianxiang sighed. “If you insist on this so earnestly, your delusions remain unbroken. Should anything befall you, I’ll have no way to justify myself—no matter what I say. I shall leave now. In a hundred days, I will visit you in your sickbed.”

Sang tried to stop her, but to no avail—she left in anger.
From then on, Li began coming every night.
After about two months passed, Sang felt his body grow terribly exhausted.
However, at first he thought it couldn’t be anything serious, but day by day he grew thinner and weaker until he could barely manage to eat a single bowl of porridge.
He considered returning home to recuperate, but his lingering attachment to Li made it impossible for him to resolve to leave.
As he dawdled for several days, his illness grew severe until he could no longer rise.

When the neighbor saw that Sang had fallen ill and could no longer rise, day after day he ordered his servant to send over food.
It was only then that Sang began to suspect Li.
Then he said to Li,
“It’s because I didn’t listen to Lianxiang’s words that this happened.”
Having said that, Sang stopped breathing, but after a while, he revived and looked around.
Li was already gone.
After that, Li stopped coming.
Sang, lying in the deserted study where no one remained, thought of Lianxiang who had said she would visit after a hundred days.
It was the same as a farmer waiting for the grain to ripen.

One day, as he was similarly lost in thought about Lianxiang, someone suddenly pushed aside the curtain and entered.
It was Lianxiang.
She approached Sang’s bedside, smiled wryly, and said:

“You country bumpkin—so my words were lies after all?”

Sang cried and couldn’t say anything, but finally spoke.

“I was wrong. I apologize. Please, save me.”

Lianxiang said:

“Once illness penetrates the bones, nothing can be done. Though I did become somewhat agitated, I shall take my leave now—it’s enough if you understand I wasn’t acting out of jealousy.”

Sang, terribly grieved, said.

“The root of this lies in the thing beneath the pillow—destroy it for me.”

When Lianxiang reached out her hand, there lay Li’s embroidered shoe bearing his needlework.
Lianxiang took it over to the lamp and turned it this way and that to examine.
Just then, Li abruptly entered, but upon seeing Lianxiang, she recoiled and tried to flee.
Lianxiang ran over and blocked the exit.
Li froze in place.
Sang reprimanded Li.

“You deceived me, you bastard! What’s your game? Speak! Out with it!”

Li was unable to respond.
Lianxiang said with a laugh.

“Though I’m meeting you face-to-face for the first time now, I hear you claimed Mr. Sang’s previous illness was my doing. How do you account for this state?”

Li lowered her head and apologized.

"I was in the wrong."

Lianxiang said.

“How could someone as beautiful as you repay love with enmity?”

Li threw herself down and wept.

“I was wrong. Please forgive me.”

Lianxiang helped her up and inquired in detail about her origins.
Li said,

“I am the daughter of Magistrate Li Tongpan, who died young and was buried outside the wall here. Though I am dead, my passions remain unextinguished—my wish was only to interact with a young man. To attempt killing him was never my true intent.”

Lianxiang said.

“They say people from the other world take advantage of humans dying because they want to be together after death—is that true?”

Li said.

“That’s not true at all! Even if you only meet people from the other world, there’s no pleasure in it. If people from the other world were enough for you, there are plenty of young ones around.”

Lianxiang said.

"You fool! Even humans couldn't endure loving someone daily—how much less someone from the other world!"

Sang asked.

“Foxes often kill people—but for what reason do they do so?”

Li said.

“Those who drain human vitality to replenish their own do such things—we are not of that ilk. Thus, while there may be foxes that don’t harm people, you’ll find no ghost who doesn’t bring harm. This is because yin energy runs rampant.”

Upon hearing these words, Sang learned that both foxes and ghosts existed, but having grown accustomed to the two of them, he wasn’t particularly startled.
His breath grew as thin as a thread, nearly choking him, and he instinctively tried to cry out, but no sound emerged, leaving him writhing helplessly.
Lianxiang turned to Li and asked.

“Why did you administer such treatment?”

Li blushed deeply and spoke humbly.

“I’m sorry.”

Lianxiang laughed.

“Oh, his constitution remains strong—we may still apply moxa if necessary.”

Li adjusted the collar and said.

"If there exists a renowned physician somewhere, I will surely have healing performed. Should that come to pass, I shall return beneath the earth—never again will I disgrace myself in this world."

Lianxiang untied the pouch, took out the medicine, and said.

“I had known this day would come for some time. I journeyed to Three Mountains to gather herbs and spent three months preparing this medicine—there’s no illness it cannot cure. But since you are the cause of this sickness, administering it requires something from your own body. May I ask this of you?”

Li asked.

“What would that be?”

Lianxiang said, “It’s your saliva. I’ll take out the pill—put it in your mouth and coat it with spit.” Li’s cheeks flushed crimson as she lowered her head. In that instant, her eyes fell upon those embroidered shoes. Lianxiang continued, “You achieved your desires through these shoes, did you not?” Li’s shame deepened until she seemed ready to vanish from the spot. Lianxiang placed the pill into Sang’s mouth, then held another before Li. With no alternative, Li tasted it. Lianxiang spoke again.

“Once more, please.”

Li tasted it again.
After coating it with saliva three or four times in this manner, she finally placed it into Sang’s mouth.
After a while, a thunderous rumbling arose within Sang’s abdomen.
Lianxiang took out the next pill, but after tasting it herself, she placed it into Sang’s mouth.
Sang felt his abdomen burning like fire, and his spirit began to grow vibrant.
Lianxiang said.

“He’s healed now.”

Li, hearing the rooster’s crow, returned hesitantly.
Since nourishing Sang’s convalescent body required preventing him from eating, Lianxiang made it appear as though he had returned to his hometown and, while keeping his friends from visiting, nursed him day and night by his side.
Li also came every night to help, serving Lianxiang like an elder sister.
Lianxiang also cared for Li in turn.

After three months, Sang’s body returned to its former state. Li now came only every three or four days. Even when she did visit occasionally, she would merely glance at Sang before departing. Even when they were together, she wore a listless expression. Lianxiang always tried to keep her there to sleep together, but she would not consent. One time, Sang chased after Li as she tried to leave and carried her back—she was as light as a funerary straw effigy. Unable to escape, Li finally lay down still clothed; when she curled her body, it measured not even two shaku. Lianxiang grew increasingly compassionate. And when Sang opened his eyes, Li was already gone.

Afterward, more than ten days passed, but Li did not come again.
Sang wanted to meet Li, but since she did not come, he would always take out the embroidered shoes and fiddle with them.
Lianxiang said:
“She truly is a beautiful one. Even I, a woman, find her adorable—so men must… well, don’t they?”
Sang—
“Before, when I fiddled with the embroidered shoes, she’d come right away—so I did have my suspicions, but I never imagined she was a ghost. Now, looking at these shoes and remembering her face… it’s truly unbearable.”

With these words, he shed tears.

At that time in Honghuabu, there was a wealthy man named Zhang.
There was a fifteen-year-old girl known as Yan’er who had died unmarried, but after one night revived, rose up, surveyed her surroundings, and tried to rush out.
The girl’s father frantically shut the door and prevented her from leaving.

The girl said.

“I am the soul of the vice-prefect’s daughter! Mr. Sang loves me—that’s why my embroidered shoes remain over there. I truly am a ghost! Locking me up here brings no benefit whatsoever.”

The girl’s father, thinking her words held some basis, asked why she had come there.
The girl looked here and there, growing so dazed that even she herself didn’t understand.
One of those present at the gathering said,

“Isn’t it said that Sang-sheng returned to his hometown due to illness? That can’t be true,” he said.

The girl retorted,

“He is certainly here. The claim that he returned home is a lie.”

She insisted, refusing to listen.

In the Zhang household, they harbored deep suspicions.

The Eastern Neighbor heard this and climbed over the fence to stealthily go spy.
Sang and a beautiful woman were facing each other talking.
The Eastern Neighbor abruptly barged in.
The woman became terribly flustered but disappeared just like that.

The Eastern Neighbor said.

“You were supposed to have returned—what happened?”

Sang laughed and said,
"Didn't I tell you once before? If it's a woman, I'll take her in."

The Eastern Neighbor recounted what Yan’er had said.
Sang tried to go to Yan’er’s house to investigate but was troubled because he had no pretext.
Yan’er’s mother, hearing that Sang-sheng had still not returned home, grew increasingly puzzled and sent a maidservant to investigate whether the embroidered shoes were present.
Sang-sheng took out the embroidered shoes and gave them.

Yan'er was delighted when the embroidered shoes arrived.
And she tried to put on the embroidered shoes, but they were just a bit too small and wouldn’t fit.
Thereupon, she was terribly startled, took a mirror to reflect her face, but instantly became entranced and said.

“Mother, there are several other people inside my body.”

The mother realized the supernatural occurrence for the first time.
The girl looked in the mirror again, cried bitterly, and said:

“At that time, I was confident in my looks too—but even so, when I saw Sister Lianxiang, I felt ashamed. Now I’ve ended up with this face instead.”

Those around her did not realize it was Li’s ghost.
The girl took the embroidered shoes, wailed and cried, and would not stop even when comforted.
Then, wrapping herself in the futon, she lay down, and even when food was brought to her, she would not eat.
Her body swelled all over, and though she ate nothing for about seven days, she did not die.
When the swelling finally subsided and she became unbearably hungry, she had a meal there.

After two or three days, her entire body grew itchy and shed all its skin. Rising early in the morning, she picked up the embroidered shoes she had worn during her illness—now fallen to the ground—and tried to put them on, but they were too large for her feet. Then when she tried wearing those shoes received from Sang’s quarters, they fit perfectly. Yan’er rejoiced and took up the mirror again to look. There reflected was Li—her brows, eyes, and cheeks all gracefully formed. Growing even more delighted, Yan’er bathed, arranged her hair, and turned to gaze at her mother. Those who saw her face stared intently in astonishment.

Lianxiang, having heard of Yan’er’s strange situation, urged Sang to seek a matchmaker and have them married, but Sang, daunted by the vast wealth gap, could not immediately follow Lianxiang’s advice.

At that very moment, Yan’er’s mother’s birthday arrived.
Sang followed the child’s son-in-law as he went and offered his congratulations.
The mother, seeing Sang’s name among the guests, instructed Yan’er to peer through the bamboo blinds and identify him.

Sang was the last to leave.
Yan’er suddenly ran out, grabbed Sang’s sleeve, and said they should go home together.
Her mother scolded her, so she entered in embarrassment.
Sang, upon looking intently at the woman and seeing she was none other than the graceful Li, could not hold back his tears.
Thereupon, he prostrated himself before her mother.
Her mother helped Sang up and did not scorn him.

Her mother asked her own brother to act as matchmaker and selected an auspicious day to take Sang in as a live-in son-in-law.
Sang returned home, informed Lianxiang, and consulted her about marrying Yan’er.
Lianxiang listened with a sorrowful expression, but after a short while, she announced she would take her leave and return home.
Sang, startled, asked the reason.
Sang was shedding tears.
Lianxiang said.

“When you become a live-in son-in-law and go to another’s household for the wedding, how could I possibly follow along?”

Thereupon Sang decided to return to his hometown to fetch Yan’er, so Lianxiang consented.
Sang then went to Zhang and explained the circumstances.
At Zhang’s household, upon hearing that Sang already had a wife, they became furious and rebuked Yan’er, but through Yan’er’s strenuous mediation, matters ultimately unfolded according to Sang’s wishes.

On that day, Sang went himself to fetch Yan’er.
As there had been little time, the interior furnishings of the house were not yet prepared; but when he returned with the bride, they found woolen carpets spread wall-to-wall from the gate to the sitting room, countless candles lit, making it gleam as though draped in brocade.
Lianxiang supported the bride and entered the ceremony hall.
Even the bride’s appearance, with her face covered by the bridal veil, was exactly like Li’s.

Lianxiang was present together at the ceremony where the nuptial cup rites were performed and asked Yan’er about the mysterious circumstances of Li’s resurrection.

“Yan’er said.”

“That day, I couldn’t endure my despondency—and with my altered state, I grew so revolted by my body’s defilement that I stormed off without returning to my grave. Drifting at the wind’s mercy, I envied the living beyond endurance. By day I clung to plants and trees; by night I wandered heedlessly, tossed between rising and sinking—until suddenly I reached Zhang’s household and found a girl asleep upon her bed.”

Lianxiang listened in silence, seeming to harbor unspoken thoughts.

Two months later, Lianxiang gave birth to a child, but suddenly fell ill after childbirth and grew worse day by day until she passed away.

Lianxiang took Yan’er’s hand and said, “I entrust the child to you, for my child is your own.”

Yan’er cried.
The mother-in-law tried to comfort her and call a physician, but Lianxiang would not listen.
Lianxiang’s illness grew increasingly severe, and her breath became faint.
Sang and Yan’er burst into tears.
Then Lianxiang widened her eyes and said, “Please don’t cry. You find joy in living, but I find joy in dying. If fate allows, we’ll meet again in ten years.”

Lianxiang died after saying that.
When they tried to open the futon and enclose the corpse, it turned into a fox.
Sang, unable to bear looking at it as a strange thing, lavishly buried the corpse.
Sang named the child born to Lianxiang “Fox Child.”
Yan’er loved the child as her own and, during the Qingming Festival, would always carry it to Lianxiang’s grave.

Ten years later, Sang passed the provincial examination and became a provincial graduate, so his household gradually became prosperous.
Fox Child was remarkably intelligent, but his body was weak and he often fell ill.
Yan’er, fearing it would be disastrous if he stopped growing, constantly urged Sang to take a concubine.

One day, a maidservant came and reported that an old woman had arrived with a girl she wished to sell.
Yan’er had them summoned, and upon seeing the girl, Yan’er exclaimed as if greatly startled.

“Sister Lianxiang has come again!”

Sang also went out to look. The woman looked exactly like Lianxiang. Sang was also startled. Sang asked, “How old are you?” “I am fourteen, yes, sir,” she replied. “What’s the price?” he inquired. “She is this old one’s only child,” said the woman, “but if she can be taken into a fine household’s care—so that I may secure a place to eat and avoid dying destitute in my later days—that would suffice.” Sang paid a generous sum and took the girl into his household. Yan’er gripped the girl’s hand and entered the private room, then placed her hand on the girl’s collar and laughed.

“Don’t you know me?”

The girl said.
“I don’t know.”
“What is your surname?”

“My surname is Wei. My father sold soy sauce in Xucheng.”
“He passed away three years ago.”

Yan’er folded her fingers and thought. It had been exactly fourteen years since Lianxiang died. When she looked closely at the girl again, her appearance and demeanor were exactly like Lianxiang’s. She tilted her head and said, “Sister Lianxiang, Sister Lianxiang—the promise you made to meet again in ten years wasn’t a lie after all.”

The girl suddenly seemed to wake from a dream, and her chest felt unburdened.

“Ah.”

Thereupon, she stared intently at Yan’er.
Sang laughed and
“This resembles the ‘Swallows Return’ from when we knew each other long ago.”

and recited a passage from Yan Shu’s “Spring Lament Poem.”
Then the girl wept and said,
“Yes—my mother told me when I was born, I kept speaking of Lianxiang myself. They called it ill-omened and made me drink dog’s blood until I lost awareness. But today feels like waking from a dream.”

Thereupon, they spoke together of their past lives, creating a scene where joy and sorrow mingled.

When the Cold Food Festival arrived, Yan’er said.

“Today is the day to pay respects to Sister Lianxiang.”

Thereupon, the three of them went to Lianxiang’s grave.
Spring grass grew thickly, and the tree planted at the grave marker had already grown to the thickness of an embrace.
The girl sighed as she looked at it.

Li, now Yan’er, said to Sang:

“Sister Lianxiang and I share bonds spanning two lifetimes. I cannot endure being separated from her—please bury us together in one grave.”

Sang obeyed these words. He opened Li’s burial mound to retrieve her bones and returned home, then interred them with Lianxiang’s remains. When relatives and acquaintances heard of this marvel, they arrived dressed in ceremonial garments as if attending a ritual sacrifice. Without prior arrangement, a crowd of two or three hundred people gathered.

I (Pu Songling), in the year of Gengxu, traveled south to Suzhou. Detained by rain, I rested at a traveler’s lodge where there was a man named Liu Sheng Zijing. He showed me a Biography of Sang-sheng compiled by Wang Zizhang, his maternal cousin from the same lodge, and this is its summary.