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Two Great Ways to Deal with Ghosts

Luo Zhenren always tells people not to be afraid of ghosts. He advises that if you meet one, you should use a technique called "conquering the invisible with the invisible." This involves blowing at the ghost.

He maintains that ghosts are most terrified of human breath. This method is far better than slashing wildly with a knife or a stick, even though one may think a knife would be more effective.

Zhang Qishi is of the opinion that when you meet a ghost you should not be afraid. He argues that it is more important to fight it straightaway.

If you win the fight, then you're to be congratulated. If you lose, then the worst that can happen is that you'll become a ghost yourself.

The Immortal Prostitute

Near Suzhou there is a mountain called Mount Xiqi, and behind this is a peak called Yun'ai. It is said that many immortals live on this peak, and rumor has it that those who climb the peak and survive automatically become immortals.

A certain scholar by the name of Wang had become depressed at his repeated failure at the national examinations, so he decided to climb Mount Yun'ai to try his luck as an immortal. He packed up some food and personal effects and said farewell to his family, then began his ascent.

When he reached the top he found a substantial plateau dotted with a few trees among the wispy clouds. His eyes caught sight of movement on a distant ridge, and when he peered across he could make out a woman walking among the trees. Thinking this a strange place to find a woman, he rushed over to take a closer look.

The woman was curious about this new arrival and approached him. As she drew nearer, Wang recognized her as the famous Suzhou prostitute Xie Chongniang, with whom he had fallen in love six or seven years earlier.

Seeing her old friend again, she was extremely pleased and immediately took his hand and led him back to a small thatched hut. It had no door and the floor was layered an inch deep in pine needles, making it quite soft and warm.

Chongniang then related the events that had passed since they last met.

"After we parted, I was put under arrest by Prefect Wang. He stripped me naked and beat me ruthlessly, until the flesh on my buttocks was torn to shreds. Besides the pain, I felt most keenly the humiliation of the punishment. I was a high-ranking prostitute who commanded quite a bit of respect within the industry. How could I face anyone after such a humiliation?

"So I devised a plan to leave. I told the brothel owner that I was
going to a temple to make some offerings, but instead I intended to commit suicide by jumping off a nearby cliff. I did jump, but instead of falling to my death I became entangled in the vines and creepers that grew along the cliff face.

"I had been hanging there for a while when an old woman with long white hair came to my rescue. She freed me from the vines, nourished me with pine nuts, and taught me how to concentrate my energies.

"Eventually, I felt neither hunger nor cold, and although I was a little scared at first, after a year of braving the elements I lost all my fear.

"The old woman lives just over on the next mountain, and she came by here yesterday to tell me that I would meet an old lover today. That's why I was wandering around on the plateau. I never dreamed it would be you!"

She paused and then asked, "Is Prefect Wang dead?"

He replied, "I have no idea, but now that you're an immortal you wouldn't be harboring thoughts of revenge, would you?"

The woman replied, "If it wasn't for Prefect Wang, I wouldn't be where I am today. I suppose I should be thankful and not vengeful.

"The old woman told me once that on one of her trips to heaven she had seen Prefect Wang being whipped by a god. The prefect was recounting his sins as he faced each crack of the whip. I figured he must be dead if he was seen in heaven."

The scholar declared, "Wang has no business beating prostitutes!"

The woman replied, "Those who aren't moved by beautiful women and sex, despite their love for them, are true sages. Those who are moved by beautiful women and sex are human, and those who know nothing of beauty and sex and are unmoved by them are beasts. Heaven hates this type most of all.

"When Prefect Wang beat me he was showing off to his direct superior, Governor Xu Shilin. Xu was known as a conservative neo-Confucian, and Wang wanted to make an example of me to ingratiate himself with Xu. Heaven hates that type of behavior most of all. Besides, Wang has committed many other crimes against heaven."

The scholar then asked, "Immortals are supposed to be pure, yet you spent your life as a prostitute. How did you manage to become an immortal with that sort of past?"

She replied, "Although sex is not an act of propriety, love between men and women is the essence of the universe. If a butcher lays down his knife, then he can become a Buddha in that instant. Prostitution is
no more sinful than a whole range of other human practices."

He then told her his own plans to become an immortal and asked if he could stay in her hut while he learned.

"You are most welcome to stay with me, but I fear that the path to immortality is not an easy one for you," she said.

They arranged some bedding on the pine-needle floor, removed their clothing, and lay together as they had before. There was a major difference, however. She never said anything romantic or intimate, and although he was free to touch her smooth, white buttocks, if he became aroused she would become very solemn and tigers and other wild mountain beasts would howl outside the hut. Some would even poke their heads in and scratch at the walls. It was as if they were overseeing the reunion.

This went on for some time, until all the scholar could do was lie quietly with his arms around the prostitute.

Once, in the middle of the night, he heard people milling around and carriages bustling past, just outside the hut. He was quite puzzled at such a commotion on an isolated mountain peak.

"That is just the mountain gods coming and going. They like to visit each other at night, and as long as I don't interfere they don't bother me," the woman explained.

At dawn, she broke the news that he would have to leave.

"Your friends and relatives are waiting for you at the base of the mountain. Hurry now, go back to them," she said.

He refused to go, so she said, "The resolution of our fate will have to wait until the next time we meet." She led him to the edge of a cliff and pushed him off.

When he looked up from the foot of the precipice he saw the woman gazing longingly down at him. She stood there for a long while, then disappeared.

The scholar staggered down the road to his village and it wasn't long before he met his family, led by his elder brother, coming toward him. They were sobbing as they walked up the mountain.

It turned out that he had been dead for twenty-seven days. His family members were on their way to make offerings to the gods to protect him in the underworld.

After he had sufficiently recovered, the scholar went to the prefect's office to inquire about Prefect Wang. Sure enough, the prefect had died of a stroke some time ago.

Zhang Youhua

A student from Anqing by the name of Chen Shuning lived in a dormitory in Huaining. On the Double Ninth Festival, when all the locals celebrate by climbing the nearby mountain, Chen went out for a stroll on his own. His wanderings took him out the south gate of the town and past a graveyard.

He noticed a pillar of black smoke coming from somewhere in the cemetery. His curiosity aroused, he wandered in among the tombs. Suddenly he felt a chill wind blow up. With his hair standing on end from both fear and cold, he hurried on his way.

At sleep that night, back in the supposed safety of his dormitory, he dreamed he was walking in a monastery. Everything was quite clean and serene. A mural painted on the eastern wall depicted a river flanked by pines.

The poem above the painting was titled "The Peony" and the first line read: "When the east wind blows, a streak of red will appear." Alongside the poem was the signature Zhang Youhua.

Chen was pondering the meaning of such a beautiful and cryptic line when a man pushed open a nearby door and entered the dormitory room. The man, who seemed to be about forty, was short with a red nose and piercing eyes.

He then addressed young Chen, saying, "I am Zhang Youhua and the poem you are reading was written by me. Do you sneer at my talent?"

Chen hastily replied, "Oh no, not at all! I would never presume to sneer."

Chen tried to explain himself but his words became thoroughly tangled.

The red-nosed man pointed straight at him and demanded: "Tell me, am I a man or a ghost?"

"I felt a chill wind when you came in, so I would say you are a ghost," Chen replied.

"Do you think I am a good ghost or a bad ghost?"

"Since you can write poetry I think you must be a good ghost," Chen said.

The red-nosed ghost rushed forward and grabbed at Chen, shouting: "Well, you're wrong! I am a very evil ghost!"

As he came closer, the air around Chen became colder and colder. The chill went right through Chen's insides and it felt just as if his heart had been frozen in ice. Chen ran to cover behind a bamboo bedframe, but the ghost merely reached through and grabbed him by the testicles. The pain was excruciating and Chen woke from his nightmare with a start.

When he looked at his testes, he saw to his horror that they were swollen to an enormous size. From then on he suffered from consecutive bouts of raging fever and severe chills. The doctor who was called in could do nothing to ease the pain, and it wasn't long before Chen died, right there in the student dormitory.

The prefect of Huaining arranged for his funeral and pondered the needless death of his young friend. One day the prefect happened to run into a retired official. He asked the man, "Do you know if there was anyone by the name of Zhang Youhua who used to live around here?"

He was told, "Yes, I do. A clerk who worked here in Anqing went by that name. He died about two years ago, but when he was alive he was a real troublemaker.

"He had a passion for writing poetry but his verse was always rather odd. He was rather short and had a bright red nose, if I remember correctly. They buried him out by the south gate."

It was clear to all that this was the very place where Chen had encountered the chill wind while taking his walk.

A Ghost Borrows an Official Title for a Daughter's Marriage

In Xinjian there was a scholar by the name of Zhang Yacheng who from the time he was a child loved to make his own toys and costumes. His attic was filled with helmets, beautiful dresses, and a variety of precious bits of shiny patterned paper. He would play with his treasures by himself in the attic, and as an adult he kept his toys. But their existence remained a secret from his family.

One day he opened the door to a woman of about thirty who asked Zhang if he would make her several items of clothing and numerous pieces of jewelry. She offered to pay, so Zhang agreed. He then inquired as to her plans for the garments and jewelry.

"I'll be using these as my wedding clothes," she replied.

Zhang was sure she was pulling his leg, but he didn't think it worth persisting with the question so he let it rest.

The next day the woman returned and told him, "You have a neighbor of official rank by the name of Tang. My husband's surname is also Tang and I would like him to have the same rank as your neighbor.

"Could you write down his name and title for me? Put the surname at the top in the position of honor, if you wouldn't mind."

Zhang was sure she was joking, but it seemed a harmless enough request, so he took a piece of paper and wrote down the name and title for her.

The next evening, just after Zhang had prepared the package of clothing and jewelry, the woman arrived with cakes and money to thank him for his trouble. But the next morning, when Zhang looked more closely at the gifts, he saw that the cakes were made of mud and the cash was ghost money. It was then that he realized the woman was a ghost.

Several days later the mountains around the village were lit up with lights and filled with music. The puzzled villagers gathered outside
their houses to watch, and they concluded the commotion must be a funeral being held among the existing graves.

As they approached the scene of the noise, they realized it was not a funeral at all. Instead it was a wedding—all the distant figures had red wedding flowers in their lapels.

The villagers knew that nobody lived among the graves, so a few of the village busybodies went closer to the festivities to investigate. They saw the area festooned with lanterns upon which the character for
Tang
and an official rank were painted.

When the villagers heard this, they came to the realization that ghosts also love to put on vain shows of wealth and rank to impress their friends.

Indeed, ghosts and people are identical in this regard.

The Bear

A merchant from Zhejiang Province frequently made sea journeys for business purposes. On one of these journeys, he and his twenty or so employees were blown off course and onto an island. Since they were there, the men decided to explore the new territory.

They had walked only about a mile when they came across what they later described as a bear. It was over ten feet tall and extremely strong. By hitting the men with its giant paws, the bear herded them into a tight group under a tree. It then tied the men to the tree and to each other by threading a vine through holes it pierced in their ear lobes. Having completed this task to its satisfaction, the bear skipped gleefully away.

The men waited until they thought the bear was far enough away and then drew their knives, cut the vine, and ran back to the boat. Not long after this, they saw four bears walking along the shore carrying a stone platform on top of which sat a bear of enormous proportions. The bear that had tied them up led the party towards the tree, skipping all the way. When it reached the base of the tree and saw the vine slashed, the bear looked confused and very disappointed. The bear on the platform, however, was clearly enraged. It then gave what must have been an order for the four other b
ears to punish the first bear. The beating was so severe that the bear was killed.

The men on the boat, watching from the distance, were terrified at the brutality of what they had just witnessed. All the same they were relieved to have escaped with their own lives. One of the men who had his ears pierced during this adventure was a Mr. Wu of Shanyin. A relative, Shen Pingru, asked Wu how he had come to have pierced ears and this was the story Wu told.