Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction Issue 0

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Issue 0 Publisher: Kunlun Press Editor: John Dishon Design and Layout: John Dishon Email: kunlunjournal@gmail.com Website: kunlunjournal.blogspot.com © 2011 Kunlun Press, all rights reserved.

Shrouded Path excerpt © 2011 Aron White All rights reserved.

Preface Welcome to this special introductory issue of Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction. This issue, dubbed Issue 0, is intended as a prototype, an example of what the first and subsequent issues will look like. Of course, nothing in the layout of this issue is final; it may be that the first issue will look different, in terms of typefaces and layout, but for the most part, what you see here will be what you will see in future issues. One thing you cannot see in this issue is all the sections. The table of contents for Issue 0 is simplified. The first issue will be broken down into sections, one of which will be Fiction. Other possible sections are Poetry, Interviews, Reviews, and a section for nonfiction articles. The sections that will appear in each issue will differ depending on the contents, but the Fiction section will remain constant. The look of the table of contents is likely to change drastically.

Another thing I hope to change for the first issue is the cover art. Not just the art itself, but also the quality. Issue 0 featurs a section of a famous Qing painting, usually named in English as Along the River During the Qingming Festival. The version used here is a Qing painting based on the Song original. The quality of the photo being used on the cover of this issue is only 72 dpi, which is inadequate for a print cover. Even though you are viewing this issue on an electronic device, the journal itself is laid out as if it were going to print. You can see the lower quality of the image on this cover by zooming in on the PDF. The proper resolution ought to be 300 dpi, and I plan on using artwork at this resolution for all future issues. But this image will suffice for Issue 0, as this issue is meant only as an introduction.

The content of Issue 0 is also less than what will be featured in a standard issue of Kunlun Journal. This issue begins with a "call to arms", a declaration calling for more wuxia and historical fiction in the English language. This short essay is intended as a spur to action, a motivator and a statement of intentions. Following that essay is a short interview with Aron White, first time author, who's novel Shrouded Path will be released in February. Lastly, four short stories are included in Issue 0. The first story, "The Painted Skin", was written by Pu Songling and included in his Liaozhai Zhiyi, also known as Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio.

The English translation included here is by Herbert Giles, a famous sinologist 3

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction known for his translations, as well as for his work in establishing the Wade-Giles Chinese romanization system, which was the standard system used by sinologists until recently. The last three stories are all from the Tang dynasty, and were collected in the Taiping Guangji, a collection of over 7,000 stories in 500 sections compiled by Li Fang in 978 AD. "Feng Yan" was originally written by Shen Yazhi, "Jing Shisanniang" was originally written by Sun Guangxian, and "Wushuang" was originally written by Xue Diao. These three stories were translated by me.

And that's it for the introductory issue. Hopefully this will give you a taste of what to expect for the first issue. I look forward to seeing more submissions and I am eager to answer any questions you may have concerning the journal.

The website will also function as a place to gather news and participate in discussions. See you there.

John Dishon Editor January 11, 2011

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Contents Call to Arms

The need for more and better wuxia 6

Interview: Aron White 11

Fiction The Painted Skin 16

Feng Yan 20

Jing Shisanniang 22

Wushuang 23

Call to Arms The Need for More and Better Wuxia

by John Dishon

For fans of Chinese history, and its literature, the literary landscape in the West is a desolate one indeed. While it is true that contemporary Chinese authors are being published more and more, for works dealing with the past, the pickings are slim. Even Asia's biggest name in the literary world, Jin Yong, has only three of his novels published in English: Book and Sword, Gratitude and Revenge; Flying Fox of Snowy Mountain; and The Deer and the Cauldron. Book and Sword is Jin Yong's first novel, and a good place to start for those new to wuxia, but it's a relatively minor work in the Jin Yong canon, as first novels often are. Flying Fox is another minor work, and one of his shortest works, but at least Flying Fox and Book and Sword can still be purchased at a reasonable price. The Deer and the Cauldron, on the other hand, will set you back several hundred dollars for the complete three volume set unless you can find it at a used shop somewhere. That such popular books should be sold at academic prices is a real shame, not only to fans of the genre, but to the translater as well, who worked so hard on a book that few people can afford to read. Hopefully your local university library has a copy.

The Four Classics are available in English, but the fifth, Jin Ping Mei, has only been partially translated. Various story collections exist, some really good ones too, with stories dating from the Warring States period to the Qing. But what about newer fiction, works written by modern and contemporary authors about with settings in China's past? There's only a handful, fewer still which are good reads. Thanks to fan translators, however, many of Jin Yong's and Gu Long's works have been translated, as well as other works from various authors. These fan translators deserve all the praise and thanks we can give them.

Still, the fact is, if you go to the bookstore or even search around online, you're not going to find a lot to satisfy you. What you will find and can still get you will read through and then be at a loss as to where to go next. That's where 6

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction Kunlun Journal steps in. At least, I hope to help fill that void we have left for ourselves by translating older works and publishing newer works, by keeping the community going through news and discussions. I want to form a solid community, not only around wuxia, but also around Chinese historical literature in general. There is a need for more works of wuxia and historical fiction in the English language, and not just for the few of us who just can't read Chinese. There's more at stake than that.

But the obvious first: There's just not that much around. Imagine you go to a rock music forum, and there they have a sub-forum for The Beatles, a sub-forum for The Rolling Stones, and a sub-forum for Everyone Else. You go to this rock music forum in January of 2011 and that's what you see. Everything else that has happened in the rock music world is relegated to a single forum, where the last post was updated over a year ago. That is, in effect, what the situation is for wuxia, at least in English. Jin Yong and Gu Long are virtually the only wuxia authors talked about. You can find sections dedicated to others, but those sections are not very active. Isn't this sad? That for forty years, the same two authors get all the attention? Is it because no one else is worth talking about? I find that hard to believe, but if it is true then that is truly a shame, and it would be a unique quality not shared by other genres.

Look at fantasy, for example. J.R.R. Tolkien was the giant, but since then there is Terry Brooks, Robert Jordan, Terry Goodkind, Brian Jacques, George R.R. Martin, and recently Brandon Sanderson has made a name for himself, first by being chosen to finish the late Robert Jordan's series, and now for his own work. The genre continues to thrive. You can pick any other genre and find the same kind of growth, even in literary fiction. What if we were still talking about Hemingway and Faulkner to the exclusion of everyone else in American literature? I have no doubt that if you go to a Chinese language forum you will find a lot more discussion of more authors. The best solution, then, is for the rest of us to learn Chinese so we can join in. That takes time, and even if we all could read Chinese there would still be a need for more wuxia in English.

The English language is a very different from Chinese, and that is a good thing. It means we can use English to tell stories in different ways, use different techniques and thereby add to the global corpus of wuxia and historical fiction works. It's about letting the genre and general interest in China and its history and culture grow. And it's not about besting Jin Yong. Such a feat as that is not likely ever to happen. It isn't about doing the genre better than it can be done in Chinese. No, it's about following down the path that already exists and then branching off and going somewhere new and unexpected. It's time, for one, to 7

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction start using Eastern writing techniques in Western fiction. And why not? Since the May Fourth movement, Chinese writers have been using Western techniques.

Some have said that these writers are merely Chinese writing Western novels.

Whatever the case, it is true that Western literature has influenced the East, but the opposite hasn't really happened.

Well, there is that New Age woo woo that co-opts Eastern philosophical and religious concepts without bothering to understand them, but there hasn't been much real Eastern influence, certainly not in the realm of literary technique.

Mingdong Gu's book Chinese Theories of Fiction discusses the need for a defined theory of such Eastern techniques, and is a must read for anyone interested in bridging the gap between Western and Eastern literary traditions.

Using English can also help garner new fans. Once again, look at the fantasy genre. European medieval history and culture is the basis for much of fantasy literature. There's no reason to think that Chinese history and culture can't be used to add to the genre as well. And for the fans of wuxia and Chinese historical fiction that already exist, writing stories in English will give us more of what we enjoy, every story and discussion offering a new opportunity to learn more about others as well as ourselves.

So that's why Kunlun Journal is here: To support old fans and garner new fans, to educate the reading public with real Chinese history and cultural beliefs, not watered down Chinese exoticism for the uninitiated. It's time to take the mysticism away from the Western conception of Chineseness and replace it with the reality, which is, like all cultures, a mixture of many influences and ways of thought. Kunlun Journal is here to publish new works by writers new and old, and publish translations of old works that have gotten little exposure in the West. The Chinese literary tradition is a rich one, and Kunlun Journal is here to help share it. It will be rough going at first, starting off with few people who are already interested. It will take time for the quality of new writings to improve, but with perseverance, we will get there. If nothing else, Kunlun Journal exists as a gathering point for those interested in wuxia and other stories of China's past.

So I call upon all of you out there with a passion for wuxia and other Chinese historical fiction to help nurture the tradition, by taking it in new directions and by maintaining the paths already laid down. We must strive to write the best stories we can and we must not be intimidated by the shadows cast by giants. I don't know about you, but I'm sick of the same stories being re-adapted and re-adapted for dramas and film. How many more Return of the Condor Heroes do we need?

Let's give the world something new.

Chen Pingyuan, in his article Transcending "High" and "Low" Distinctions in Literature: The Success of Jin Yong and the Future of Martial Arts Novels, translat8

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction ed by Mengjiao Jiang and Ann Huss in The Jin Yong Phenomenon, quotes Zhang Henshui: If someone could write a martial arts novel that truly reflected society, it would be an epic. It would combine military strategy, politics, social economics and much more. If it were ever written it would shock more than just the literary world. Its proportions become greater the more I think of it; the only regret I have is that my sick body will not allow me to accomplish this feat.

Challenge Accepted.

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Excerpt from Shrouded Path, by Aron White Jun continued to practice for some time until he felt a pair of eyes watching him. Smiling, he continued without opening his own.

“Aren’t you up late, Big Dragon?”

Da Long emerged from the field and walked towards him.

“So are you.”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d find another use for my time.” The motions of Jun’s kung fu grew in intensity and speed.

“I couldn’t sleep either.” Da Long watched Jun with awe and fascination. “Can you teach me what you’re doing?”

“I could teach you, but would you be willing to learn?”

“Of course I would be willing! How long does it take?”

“Quite some time. I’ve been practicing this particular one for a number of years and have just started to master it.” Still moving in all different directions, Jun began to make his way towards Da Long until he stood right in front of him, his eyes still closed. “It takes a lot of concentration and discipline. Otherwise you might make a mistake.”

With lightning speed, Jun swung his arm around and stopped his hand on the skin of Da Long’s neck. “And in this art, mistakes can be deadly.”

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Interview Aron White

Aron lives in Seattle and assumes his secret storyteller identity whenever possible.

Originally from the Motor City, he’s always had a soft spot for Chevys and enjoys collecting vintage movie posters. Some day, when his regime comes to power, he plans to require society to read more books and watch less television. His first novel, Shrouded Path, will be released on Amazon Kindle in early February. For more information, visit Aron's website at www.aronwhite.com

How did you learn about wuxia, and what led you to write your own?

I really have to give my wife, Ming, full credit for introducing me to wuxia. I watched Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon when it was released back in 2000, but didn’t really think of it as anything beyond an Asian action film. My wife was born and raised in mainland China, became a fan of wuxia literature, television and film at a young age and shared that appreciation of the genre with me after we met.

As I watched more Chinese (I use Chinese in the broad cultural and geographic sense which includes Hong Kong and Taiwan) television and films, I noticed a pattern of storytelling which possessed a certain way of blending martial arts, imperial time periods, and classic conflicts between heroes and villains in a way I hadn’t previously experienced. The mythology of the Wild West and the wandering cowboy is probably the closest thing Americans have as a genre to wuxia and there are striking similarities between the two. Since movies and television can very often be based on previous written works, I also eventually learned about the popularity of literary wuxia and the large impact that authors like Jin Yong and Gu Long have had in the past fifty years.

Growing up, I’d dabbled with writing on and off again in school and eventually reached the point as an adult where I wanted to sit down and commit some serious time to the craft and have something to show for it. I didn’t really know what I was doing or what would make an interesting story and my exposure to wuxia as inspiration happened to be in the right place at the right time. I remember rewatching some Hong Kong martial arts epics, thumbing through several wuxia novels, as well as pestering my wife with all sorts of questions about what wuxia heroes may or may not be capable of doing.

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Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction In the end, I realized if you’re going to tell a story you’d better enjoy what you’re telling. With larger-than-life men and women fighting each other against the backdrop of a 5000 year old civilization, who wouldn’t enjoy that?

Tell me about Shrouded Path? Who is Jun Quan and what is he up to in this novel?

Shrouded Path is really about leaving a protected environment as a young adult and going out into the wider world to figure things out for the first time. Jun Quan is a capable young man and he has all the prerequisites of a wuxia hero in the sense that he’s gifted in martial arts, has a strong sense of justice, and is willing to help people at risk to himself, but it’s really about figuring out what to do with all that.

When you’ve spent years at a temple training and suddenly decide that lifestyle is not for you, what’s next? Where to do you go? What do you do? Who can you trust? To be sure, there is a larger story thread involving Jun’s father that is set in motion at the beginning of the book, but Shrouded Path is really about what Jun does along the way, particularly the little things like the relationships he makes and the mischief he encounters.

Why did you choose to write Young Adult fiction?

Honestly, I started with Young Adult fiction because I didn’t feel comfortable writing Shrouded Path as an adult novel. I really struggled with that choice for awhile, particularly since there weren’t a lot of American-published examples for adults.

The initial story and amount of material I had in my mind seemed to be more the length of a teenage novel than an adult one and I started to write, figuring I could always change my mind later on.

It’s funny how encouragement can pop up when you least expect it. During the writing process, I stumbled upon Jeff Stone’s Five Ancestors series which focuses on a group of young refugee students from Shaolin Temple. That was a relief when I realized there was another writer out there doing something like I was. I guess sometimes individual creativity can benefit from a larger herd mentality in a sense.

If you see others doing something you want to do, that itself can be emboldening.

Will we be seeing Jun Quan in future adventures, or is this a standalone?

To be sure, we haven’t seen the last of Jun Quan. Shrouded Path is the first novel in a series I’m at work on called the Doorway Cycle and can almost be read as a prologue to a much larger adventure waiting to be experienced down the road.

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Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction Although Jun will remain the main character, the story arc will begin expanding to include other characters and situations. At the moment, I’m planning tentatively on two more books in the series, but that may change as the writing progresses.

Who knows, there may be room for a fourth or fifth. We’ll have to wait and see where Jun and his friends take us.

Setting a novel in a foreign setting and in an historical period is quite a challenge. How did you go about researching for this novel, and what was the biggest challenge you faced as far as gathering information?

Despite drawing inspiration from wuxia and Imperial China, I would be reluctant to think of Shrouded Path as historical fiction in the traditional sense. Initially I researched several dynasties by visiting my local library, searching online for articles, and speaking with people like my wife and other Chinese about what they’d been taught in school growing up. Shrouded Path really is more about how we today perceive old China than it probably really was. I found if I tried to write a historical Chinese novel that the focus would shift to the nitty-gritty details like clothing, architecture, or fighting styles and inevitably I would lose focus on the human story I was trying to tell.

The biggest challenge was finally deciding to set up a few basic details like time period and location and let the story tell itself, incorporating small historical or cultural specifics here and there as needed. Robert Van Gulik does this very well in his Judge Dee detective novels. Although the cases take place in the Tang dynasty, he unabashedly borrows from other periods in Chinese history as well, mixing everything together. His characters come first and he gives you just enough cultural thought to complete the reading experience and doesn’t wave around a sign stating “Hey, remember we’re in China.” My intent is similar to his in that sense by first telling a story about people we can relate to while flavoring the setting and time period with little details here and there as needed.

Why did you choose to set Shrouded Path in Kunming, during the Ming dynasty?

China has so many dynasties to choose from that it’s tempting to pick one from a hat, but that would be doing a disservice to each one and its unique history. I chose the Ming dynasty for Shrouded Path because it was the easiest to visualize since it’s the one I’m also most familiar with through movies and historical reading. Ming is an interesting dynasty with a lot of significant events like 1) The decline and end of the Mongolian domination of China proper (Yuan dynasty) established by Genghis 13

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction Khan and continued by his descendants, 2) the abolishment of the Prime Minister’s role which historically acted as a political check against the Emperor, and 3) it is the last dynasty where the ethnic Han majority ruled China before the Manchurian invasion created the Qing dynasty, China’s last. There’s a lot of material to work with as a writer.

What, to you, is the essence of wuxia? What does the genre mean to you and what is it about the genre that makes it stand out?

Wuxia in my mind mixes together a lot of storytelling elements we would find in most societies, whether it’s unbridled heroism pitted against ruthless villainy, or a romance involving forbidden love. What makes wuxia unique is the backdrop of the setting and history that is China. If someone hasn’t read a wuxia novel before, I would highly encourage them to pick up one. You can learn about the country from a historical text, but wuxia has the distinct advantage of being able to transport you back in time to that place, or sometimes a fictionalized version.

Wuxia, as a genre, has been hard in taking root in Western society. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was met with success, but afterwards the genre fizzled out in the States. Why do you think wuxia has had such difficulty gaining ground amongst Westerners?

I would argue that Ang Lee’s reputation as a filmmaker was partially instrumental in Crouching Tiger’s success in America, both because he already had an established reputation in Hollywood, but also because he’s spent significant portions of his life in both Taiwan and the West and has previously demonstrated an incredible ability to bring both cultures together in his earlier films like Pushing Hands and Wedding Banquet. Crouching Tiger in this sense is a very character-driven story with the action sequences supporting the characters, not vice versa. We don’t need to know a lot about China to understand what’s going on.

Building on that, wuxia has had a hard time among Westerners in recent years because films after Crouching Tiger have tended to focus more on a particular Chinese cultural or historical event which people aren’t as familiar with, and as a result, doesn’t necessarily strike a chord. For example, Hero centers on the attempted assassination of Yin Zhang, China’s first emperor; Red Cliff details adventures from the historical novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms; and Detective Dee and the Phantom Flame emphasizes the famed investigative skills of Di Renjie from the Tang dynasty. Most Westerners aren’t very familiar with the history, legends, and myths behind these movies, creating a disconnect with Western 14

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction audiences.

I’m sure there’s someone out there that will take issue with me and say “hey, I watched those movies and they were great!” to which I would wholeheartedly agree, but so far, most of America or Europe isn’t saying that yet. As China continues to grow in prominence on the world stage we’re going to inevitably be exposed to more of its culture and I think people will discover a lot about China that they didn’t really know before. Let’s keep our fingers crossed!

What are your favorites of the genre? Favorite book? Favorite movie?

Jin Yong’s The Book and The Sword comes to mind. It’s not his best, but it’s the first one he wrote back in the late 1950’s. For modern wuxia literature and the impact he would later have on the genre, it’s kind of like saying, “this is the story that started it all.”

Dragon Inn is definitely my favorite wuxia film. Maggie Cheung and Brigitte Lin are in their prime as actresses while Donnie Yen plays an unforgettable villain in the form of a conniving eunuch who’s always lurking in the background. Plus the finale which includes the unexpected chef (I won’t elaborate further and ruin the ending) is kung fu absurdity at its best.

What's this about collecting movie posters?

It’s really hard to say. Most of us have something we’ve collected at one point or another in our lives. As a teenager I stumbled across a 1974 Young Frankenstein poster in an antiques store and it was love at first sight. There’s just something about the old, faded paper and the pleasure of taking it home and displaying it on your wall. The thrill of the hunt can also be exhilarating as there aren’t many shops that deal with original theatrical posters, so you have to get creative sometimes with where to look.

There’s also an element of danger because fakes often run rampant throughout the hobby, particularly with popular older posters like Star Wars and newer ones as well. I’ve stuck mostly to posters that are pre-1990s because honestly I have a hard time separating originals from reprints for newer ones. Older posters were usually printed on very specific types of paper which has had time to age after several decades, factors that make it easier to verify their authenticity.

I know it sounds cheesy, but in the end you really are bringing home a piece of cinema history. It also makes a great conversation. Every time I mention movie poster collecting someone asks me what that’s all about. It’s fun to have a hobby that can grab people’s attention.

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The Painted Skin Pu Songling

translated by Herbert Giles

At T'aiyuan there lived a man named Wang. One morning he was out walking when he met a young lady carrying a bundle and hurrying along by herself.

As she moved along with some difficulty, Wang quickened his pace and caught her up, and found she was a pretty girl of about sixteen. Much smitten, he inquired whither she was going so early, and no one with her. " A traveller like you," rephed the girl, "cannot alleviate my distress; why trouble yourself to ask?" "What distress is it?" said Wang; "I'm sure I'll do anything I can for you." "My parents," answered she, "loved money, and they sold me as concubine into a rich family, where the wife was very jealous, and beat and abused me morning and night.

It was more than I could stand, so I have run away." Wang asked her where she was going; to which she replied that a runaway had no fixed place of abode. "My house," said Wang, "is at no great distance; what do you say to coming there?" She joyfully acquiesced; and Wang, taking up her bundle, led the way to his house.

Finding no one there, she asked Wang where his family was; to which he replied that that was only the library. "And a very nice place, too," said she; "but if you are kind enough to wish to save my life, you mustn't let it be known that I am here." Wang promised he would not divulge her secret, and so she remained there for some days without anyone knowing anything about it.

He then told his wife, and she, fearing the girl might belong to some influential family, advised him to send her away. This, however, he would not consent to do; when one day, going into the town, he met a Taoist priest, who looked at him in astonishment, and asked him what he had met. "I have met nothing," replied Wang. "Why," said the priest, "you are bewitched; what do you mean by not having met anything?" But Wang insisted that it was so, and the priest walked away, saying, "The fool! Some people don't seem to know when death is at hand." This startled Wang, who at first thought of the girl; but then he reflected that a pretty young thing as she was couldn't well be a witch, and began to suspect that the 16

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction priest merely wanted to do a stroke of business. When he returned, the library door was shut, and he couldn't get in, which made him suspect that something was wrong; and so he climbed over the wall, where he found the door of the inner room shut too. Softly creeping up, he looked through the window and saw a hideous devil, with a green face and jagged teeth like a saw, spreading a human skin upon the bed and painting it with a paint brush. The devil then threw aside the brush, and giving the skin a shake out, just as you would a coat, threw it over its shoulders, when lo! it was the girl. Terrified at this, Wang hurried away with his head down in search of the priest, who had gone he knew not whither; subsequently finding him in the fields, where he threw himself on his knees and begged the priest to save him. "As to driving her away," said the priest, "the creature must be in great distress to be seeking a substitute for herself; besides, I could hardly endure to injure a living thing." However, he gave Wang a flybrush, and bade him hang it at the door of the bedroom, agreeing to meet again at the Ch'ing-ti temple.

Wang went home, but did not dare enter the library; so he hung up the brush at the bedroom door, and before long heard a sound of footsteps outside. Not daring to move, he made his wife peep out; and she saw the girl standing looking at the brush, afraid to pass it. She then ground her teeth and went away; but in a little while came back, and began cursing, saying, "You priest, you won't frighten me. Do you think I am going to give up what is already in my grasp?" Thereupon she tore the brush to pieces, and bursting open the door, walked straight up to the bed, where she ripped open Wang and tore out his heart, with which she went away. Wang's wife screamed out, and the servant came in with a light; but Wang was already dead and presented a most miserable spectacle.

His wife, who was in an agony of fright, hardly dared cry for fear of making a noise; and next day she sent Wang's brother to see the priest. The latter got into a great rage, and cried out, "Was it for this that I had compassion on you, devil that you are?" proceeding at once with Wang's brother to the house, from which the girl had disappeared without anyone knowing whither she had gone. But the priest, raising his head, looked all round, and said, "Luckily she's not far off."

He then asked who lived in the apartments on the south side, to which Wang's brother replied that he did; whereupon the priest declared that there she would be found.Wang's brother was horribly frightened and said he did not think so; and then the priest asked him if any stranger had been to the house. To this he answered that he had been out to the Ch'ing-ti temple and couldn't possibly say: but he went off to inquire, and in a little while came back and reported that an old woman had sought service with them as a maid-of-all-work, and had been 17

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction engaged by his wife. "That is she," said the priest, as Wang's brother added she was still there; and they all set out to go to the house together. Then the priest took his wooden sword, and standing in the middle of the courtyard, shouted out, "Baseborn fiend, give me back my flybrush!" Meanwhile the new maid-of-all-work was in a great state of alarm, and tried to get away by the door; but the priest struck her and down she fell flat, the human skin dropped off, and she became a hideous devil. There she lay grunting like a pig, until the priest grasped his wooden sword and struck off her head. She then became a dense column of smoke curling up from the ground, when the priest took an uncorked gourd and threw it right into the midst of the smoke. A sucking noise was heard, and the whole column was drawn into the gourd; after which the priest corked it up closely and put it in his pouch. The skin, too, which was complete even to the eye-brows, eyes, hands, and feet, he also rolled up as if it had been a scroll, and was on the point of leaving with it, when Wang's wife stopped him, and with tears entreated him to bring her husband to life. The priest said he was unable to do that; but Wang's wife flung herself at his feet, and with loud lamentations implored his assistance.

For some time he remained immersed in thought, and then replied, "My power is not equal to what you ask. I myself cannot raise the dead; but I will direct you to some one who can, and if you apply to him properly you will succeed." Wang's wife asked the priest who it was; to which he replied, "There is a maniac in the town who passes his time groveling in the dirt. Go, prostrate yourself before him, and beg him to help you. If he insults you, show no sign of anger." Wang's brother knew the man to whom he alluded, and accordingly bade the priest adieu, and proceeded thither with his sister-in-law.

They found the destitute creature raving away by the roadside, so filthy that it was all they could do to go near him. Wang's wife approached him on her knees; at which the maniac leered at her, and cried out, "Do you love me, my beauty?"

Wang's wife told him what she had come for, but he only laughed and said, "You can get plenty of other husbands. Why raise the dead one to life?" But Wang's wife entreated him to help her; whereupon he observed, "It's very strange: people apply to me to raise their dead as if I was king of the infernal regions." He then gave Wang's wife a thrashing with his staff, which she bore without a murmur, and before a gradually increasing crowd of spectators. After this he produced a loathsome pill which he told her she must swallow, but here she broke down and was quite unable to do so. However, she did manage it at last, and then the maniac, crying out, "How you do love me!" got up and went away without taking any more notice of her. They followed him into a temple with loud supplications, but he had disappeared, and every effort to find him was unsuccessful. Overcome with rage and 18

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction shame, Wang's wife went home, where she mourned bitterly over her dead husband, grievously repenting the steps she had taken, and wishing only to die. She then bethought herself of preparing the corpse, near which none of the servants would venture, and set to work to close up the frightful wound of which he died.

While thus employed, interrupted from time to time by her sobs, she felt a rising lump in her throat, which by-and-by came out with a pop and fell straight into the dead man's wound. Looking closely at it, she saw it was a human heart; and then it began as it were to throb, emitting a warm vapour like smoke. Much excited, she at once closed the flesh over it, and held the sides of the wound together with all her might. Very soon, however, she got tired, and finding the vapour escaping from the crevices, she tore up a piece of silk and bound it round, at the same time bringing back circulation by rubbing the body and covering it up with clothes. In the night she removed the coverings, and found that breath was coming from the nose; and by next morning her husband was alive again, though disturbed in mind as if awaking from a dream, and feeling a pain in his heart.

Where he had been wounded there was a cicatrix about as big as a cash, which soon after disappeared.

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Feng Yan translated by John Dishon

During the Tang dyansty there was a hero from Wei named Feng Yan. Neither his father nor his grandfather were famous. When he was young, Feng Yan was bold and forthright, and skilled at playing ball and gambling on cockfighting. One day, in the marketplace a fight broke out over money. Feng Yan heard about it and went to sort it out. But, he ended up killing someone and fled to the countryside to hide. When the officials began looking for him, he fled to Huazhou. He often hung out with the young soliders there and played ball with them and went to cockfights.

At that time, Governor Jia Dan was in Huazhou. He knew of Feng Yan's special talents, and kept him on in his service. One day, Feng Yan was idling in the marketplace when he saw a well-dressed, bewitching woman looking at him.

Feng Yan hooked up with her and the two became lovers.

The woman's husband, Zhang Ying, was the commander of the Huazhou garrison. He and his colleagues went out dranking together one time. Feng Yan took the opportunity and went to Zhang's house, and closed the door. When Zhang Ying returned, his wife opened the door and welcomed him in, concealing Feng Yan with a garment. Feng Yan bent low and made to hide behind the door. As he did so, his scarf dropped to the pillow, next to Ying's sword. Zhang Ying, drunk, had fallen asleep. Feng Yan pointed at the scarf, asking the wife to get it for him. The woman thought he was asking for the sword, so she picked it up and brought it to him. Feng Yan looked at the woman for a moment, then slit her throat, took the scarf, and left.

The next day, Zhang Ying woke up to find his wife dead. He was stunned.

He went out to explain that he had killed his wife, and the neighbors, thinking Zhang Ying had really murdered her, seized him and tied him up. They went to inform the wife's parents, and they all came and said, "In the past you often beat our daughter and falsely accused her of indiscrection. Now you've killed her. It couldn't be anyone else. If someone else had killed her, how could you still be alive?" Everyone took turns beating Zhang Ying until he could no longer speak.

The authorities arrested Zhang Ying and charged him with murder. Since there was no other explanation forthcoming, Zhang Ying could only suffer this 20

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction injustice and plead guilty. The judge and more than ten soldiers, armed with swords, escorted Zhang Ying to the execution grounds, where there were more than a thousand onlookers.

Suddenly, a man pushed through the crowd, ran out, and in a loud voice said, "Don't kill him yet. He's innocent. I had an affair with his wife and then killed her. You should tie me up!"

The soldiers went to arrest the speaker - wouldn't you know it, it was Feng Yan! They took him to Governor Jia Dan. After he had heard the whole story, Jia Dan petitioned the emperor and offered to surrender his official seal in exchange for Feng Yan's life. The emperor admired Zhang Ying's loyalty to his friend, and he issued a proclamation granting amnesty to all those in Huazhou who had received the death penalty.

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Jing Shisanniang translated by John Dishon

During the Tang dynasty, there was a jinshi scholar from Wenzhou named Zhao Zhong. He was a gallant man. One time in Suzhou, he stayed at a Buddhist temple on Mt. Zhi, and there he met a female merchant, Jing Shisanniang. She was performing funeral rites for her deceased husband. Because she admired Zhao, she traveled with him to Yangzhou. Zhao was generous with his friends and spent Jing's money, but she didn't mind. His friend, Li Zheng had a brother named Sanshijiu who fell in love with a courtesan. But the courtesan's parents forced her to marry Zhuge Yin. Li was despondent.

At that time, Zhuge Yin and Lu Yongzhi worked together to control Officer Gao Pian, lording it over the people. Sanshijiu was afraid to stir up trouble, so all he could do was suffer in silence. He happened to mention these things to Jing Shisanniang one day. This angered Shisanniang, and she told him, "That's no big deal. I can get revenge for you. Tomorrow morning, cross the river and go to Beigu Mountain in Runzhou. On the sixth day of the sixth month at noon, wait for me there."

Sanshijiu arrived accoring to plan. Shisanniang met him there carrying a leather sack containing the courtesan, alive and well, as well as the heads of the courtesan's parents. She gave these things to Sanshijiu.

Afterwards, she went with Zhao Zhong to Zhejiang. No one knows what happened after that.

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Wushuang Xue Diao

translated by John Dishon

Wang Xianke was a nephew of Liu Zhen, minsiter at the central court during the Jianzhong reign period of Emperor Dezong of the Tang dynasty. Xianke's father had died, so he was forced to move with his mother to live with his uncle.

Liu Zhen has a daughter named Wushuang, who was several years younger than Xianke. They were both children, and were close playmates. Liu Zhen's wife often joked, calling Xianke her "son-in-law".

Several years passed this way. Liu Zhen looked after his elder sister and helped raise Xianke. One day, Xianke's mother fell ill, and it was very serious.

She called on Liu Zhen.

"I have only one son. You can imagine how I worry about him. It's a pity that I won't get to see him married. Wushuang is so beautiful and proper, and so intelligent. I keep thinking about her. In the future, don't make her marry into another family. I entrust Xianke to your care. If you can reassure me of this, I can die without any regrets."

"You just relax and take it easy," Liu Zhen said. "Put your mind at ease and recover your strength. Don't worry about anything else."

Soon after, Xianke's mother died. Xianke escorted the body back home to Xiangdeng to be buried. After the three years of mourning were over, Xianke began thinking about his future. Now that I'm all alone in the world, he thought, I should get married at once in order to preserve the family line. Wushuang is already grown up. My uncle surely hasn't forgotten his agreement. He wouldn't go back on his promise just because he's a respected official now, would he? So Xianke got himself ready and went to the capital.

At that time, Liu Zhen was already commisionner of land taxes, and lived in a big estate, where big officials camed and went. Xianke went to see his uncle and Liu Zhen set him up in the family school, where he lived with the rest of the students. Xianke's relationship with his uncle was as good as ever, but regarding the marriage issue, Liu Zhen never gave a straight answer.

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Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction One time, Xianke peeped through a crack in the window and saw that Wushuang was graceful and beautiful, just like a goddess descended to this mortal world. Xianke was mad with love and fearful that the marriage plan would fall through. So he sold his possesions and raised several million in cash. He spent the money lavishly on the servants and attendants of the household and held feasts in an effort to gain favor with the family. The door to the inner chambers was now open to him, such was the respect and goodwill the family had for him. He was also good to the other cousins of the house, and they returned his respect. One his aunt's birthday, Xianke bought her exotic novelties, trinkets of carved rhinoceros horn and jade jewelry, which pleased his aunt greatly.

After ten days had passed, he sent an old lady as a go-between to ask his aunt about a marriage propsal. His aunt said, "I'd like to se it happen. I'll discuss it with my husband soon." A few nights later, a slave girl came a reported to Xianke.

"Your aunt just discussed the matter with your uncle. Your uncle said 'I never agreed to that!' Seems there some discrepancy between your memories."

When Xianke heard this news, he was disheartened. He didn't sleep the whole night. Fearful that Liu Zhen would really change his mind, Xianke remained as attentive to his uncle as ever.

One day, Liu Zhen went to court. By the time the sun had just come up over the horizon, he was back, madly riding on horseback, sweating profusely and short of breath, all the while shouting, "Quick! Lock the gates! Lock the gates!"

The whole estate was thrown into a panic; no one knew what was the matter.

Finally, Liu Zhen explained. "The soldiers at Jingyuan have rebelled. Yao Lingyan and his troops have taken over the Hanyuan Palace. The emperor has fled via the north gate, and all the officials had fled with him. I was worried for my wife and child, so I came back to make sure they were looked after." At once he called for Xianke. "See that my family is taken care of for me. Once things have calmed down, I'll let you marry Wushuang." When Xianke heard this, he was both startled and thrilled, and he thanked his uncle.

Liu Zhen gathered twenty loads of gold and silver and brocade, and told Xianke, "Change clothes, and then take these goods leave through Kaiyuan Gate.

Look for a secluded roadside inn and arrange to stay there for a while. I'll take your aunt and Wushuang and go from Qixia Gate, and take a roundabout way to join you."

Xianke followed these instructions. By sunset, Xianke was waiting at an inn outside the city, but they had yet to arrive. After noon the city gates were locked.

Xianke watched from the south, but still didn't see his uncle. So, riding a piebald horse, torch in hand, he went looking for them around the city walls. When he 24

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction reached the Qixia gate, he found it locked also. There were different men, holding white staffs, some standing, some sitting, guarding the gate. Xianke dismounted and cautiously approached them.

"What's going on inside the city? Has anyone left the city from here today?"

"Marshall Zhu has assumed the throne," one of the guards said. "This afternoon, a man transporting a lot of stuff, along with forty women wanted to pass through the gate, but he was recognized as Tax Commissioner Liu. The guards didn't dare let him pass. Toward evening, some cavalry came took them away to the north."

Xianke grieved uncontrollably, but all he could do was go back to the inn.

Towards the end of the third watch, the gates suddenly opened and torchlights turned the night into day as armed soldiers streamed out, shouting, "Search outside for any officials who have escaped, and kill them!" Xianke left his baggage and fled in panic. He returned to Xiangyang, where he lived in the countryside for three years.

Later, when things had calmed down in the capital and the rebellion had been put down, Xianke went back to the captial to inquire about Liu Zhen and his family. Reaching Xinchang Street, he reined in his horse and thought of his next move, when suddenly, a man appeared before him. It turned out to be his old servant Sai Hong. Sai Hong was born into the Wang family as a slave. He once served Liu Zhen, and Liu Zhen liked him so much he took him into his own household. Now, meeting here under these circumstanced, the two couldn't help but clasp hands and weep.

"Are Uncle and Aunt safe?" Xianke said.

"They're both in Xinghua Quarter," Sai Hong said.

Xianke was overjoyed. "I'll just go see them right now, then."

"I'm a free man already," Sai Hong said. "I rent a small house where I sell silk for a living. It's almost dark now. You can stay with me for the night. Tomorrow morning we'll go together to see your uncle."

Sai Hong led the way and there prepared Xianke a hearty meal. That night, Sai Hong turned to Xianke. "Commissioner Liu, after the revolt, accepted a false government position. After the rebellion had been quelled, your uncle and aunt were executed. Wushuang was taken to the palace as a servant."

Xianke was so racked with anguish, he cried his eyes out. Even the neighbors were moved to pity. "Great is Heaven and Earth is, I still see no one to turn to. I don't know what I'm going to do. Are any of the other servants around?"

"Only Wushuang's former maid, Cai Pin. She's now serving under General Wang Suizhong."

"Looks like I'll never see Wushuang again," Xianke said. "If I can just see Cai 25

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction Pin, I can die content."

Xianke paid Wang Suizhong a visist, observing the proper procedures due an uncle of the same clan. He told Suizhong everything that had happened, and indicated his wish to buy back Cai Ping at a heavy price, if need be. Suizhong was deeply moved by Xianke's genuine feelings, and agreed to his request. So Xianke rented a house, and Cai Ping and Sai Hong came to live with him.

Sai Hong often told Xianke, "You're not getting any younger. You should seek an official position. Moping about all the time, what kind of life is that?" Xianke was persuaded and went to see Wang Suizhou to ask for help in securing a post.

Suizhou introduced Xianke to Li Qiyun, mayor of the capital. Li Qiyun made Xianke magistrate of Fuping and sent him to head the Changle courier station.

Several months later, one day, Xianke received an announcement that thirty palace ladies, accompanied by eunuchs, were going to the imperial tomb to clean the place up. On the way there, they were to stay at the Changle courier station.

After he heard that they would be taking ten covered carriages, Xianke turned said to Sai Hong, "I've heard that the ladies selected to serve inside the court are all daughters of government officials. Maybe Wushuang is a part of that group.

Go check it out for me, will you?"

"There are thousands of palace ladies," Sai Hong said. "What makes you think Wushuang will be one of the ones coming here?"

"Just go. In this world, unexpected things happen all the time."

So Sai Hong, dressed as a courier station attendant, prepared togo out and serve tea. Xianke paid him three thousand in cash and told him. "Attend to your tea serving duties diligently, and don't leave. If you see her, come tell me at once."

Sai Hong repeatedly promised he would, and went out.

The palace ladies were on the other side of the screen, so that he couldn't see them. He could hear nothing than the usual chatter. Later that night, the raucous subsided. Sai Hong cleaned out his tea utensils and added more wood to the fire.

He didn't dare sleep. Suddenly, he heard from behind the screen, "Sai Hong, Sai Hong! How did you know I was here? Is my husband well?" Her words ended in sobs.

"Your husband is in charge of this courier station. Today he suspected his wife my be here, so he told me to come."

"Don't say anything else," Wushuang said. "Tomorrow, after I leave, go to the northeast chamber and retrieve the letter under the purple mattress and give it to my husband." When she was finished speaking, she retired. Suddenly, Sai Hong heard a disturbance from behind the screen, as if one of the ladies had fallen ill.

A eunuch called for medicine to be brought quickly. The one who had made the ruckus was Wushuang. Sai Hong hurriedly went to tell Xianke.

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Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction

"How can I see her?" Xianke said.

"Wei Bridge is under repair. Disguise yourself as a foreman, and when the carriage passes by, stand close to it. If she recognizes you, Wushuang will life the curtain and then you can see her." Xianke did as Sai Hong instructed. When the third carriage passed, the curtain lifted, and inside was really Wushuang. Xianke was filled with yearning to the point of driving him mad.

After the palace ladies had left, Sai Hong went and retrieved the letter from under the mattress and gave it to Xianke. In five scented pages of Wushuang's own handwriting, she recounted all the details of the sad struggles she had been through. After reading the letter, Xianke wept bitterly and felt he would no longer be able to see Wushuang. But there was a postscript that said, "I've often heard one of the the emperor's messengers say that in Fuping County there is a chivalrous man named Gu, who is always willing to help those in need. Maybe you can see out his help?"

Xianke put in his resignation at the courier station, but kept his original post. He sent out a search for Gu and found he was living in a crude hut out in the countryside. Xianke went to pay a visit. Thereafter, anything that Gu needed, Xianke tried to do for him. He bestowed upon Gu silks of various colors and countless treasures of jade. One year passed and Xianke said nothing about his request. After retiring from his post, Xianke led a quiet life in the county. One day Gu suddenly showed up.

"I'm just a plain soldier, already old. What am I good for now? You've treated me so well, and I've seen your intention. It seems you have something you want to ask of me. I am only too eager to help those in need, and I appreciate your deep kindness toward me. I'm willing to have my body smashed to pieces and my bones ground to powder to repay you!"

Xianke, weeping, prostrated himself on the ground and told Gu everything.

Gu looked up into the sky, tapped his hand to the side of his head, racking his brains. "This is too difficult, but I'll give it a go. But, don't expect anything to be accomplished overnight."

Kowtowing, Xianke thanked Gu. "As long as I can see Wushuang before I die, that's fine. How could I dare impose a time limit?"

For half a year there was no news. One day, there was a knock at the door. A messenger had delivered a letter from Gu. The letter said, "My messenger from Mao Mountain has returned. Come see me." Xianke mounted and rode off to see Gu, but when he got there, Gu didn't say a word. Xianke asked about the messenger.

"He's already been killed. Let's drink tea." Later that night, Gu said, "Is there anyone in your family who knows Wushuang?" Xianke said that Cai Ping knew 27

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction Wushuang and had her summoned immediately. Gu looked at her carefully and smiled and said, "Let me borrow her for a few days. You go back home for now."

A few days later, news arrived that a high official had passed through there and a palace lady had been executed. Xianke felt this was very strange, so he made Sai Hong find out who was executed. He came to find out it had been Wushuang!

Xianke sobbed and, sighing, said, "Originally I had put all my hope in Gu, but now she's dead. What else is there to do?" He wept continuously, unable to control himself.

That evening, the night was deep. Suddenly, Xianke heard a frantic knock at his door. He opened the door to find out it was Gu carrying a stretcher. "It's Wushuang," Gu said. "Now she looks dead, but her heart still has a little warmth.

She'll recover the day after tomorrow. Give her this medicine and make her drink it, but be sure to keep this a secret." Xianke carried her in his arms and took her inside. He looked after her by himself. Two days later, at dawn, Wushuang's body began to warm all over. When she opened her eyes and saw Xianke, she uttered a cry and passed out. Xianke tried to revive her, but she did not come to until that evening.

"I would like to borrow Sai Hong to dig a hole for me behind the house," Gu said later. When the hole was deep enough, Gu drew his sword and chopped off Sai Hong's head, which fell then fell into the hole. Xianke was shocked and frightened. "Don't be frightened," Gu said. "Today I've already repaid your kindness. Some time ago I heard about a Daoist priest on Mao Mountain who has this medicine that immediately kills the one who eats it. Three days later, the person will revive. I sent someone especially to get one of those pills. Yesterday I made Cai Ping dress up as a eunuch and command Wushuang to use the pill to commit suicide because she belonged to a rebel. When her corpse was brought to the graveyard, I passed myself off as an old friend and paid one hundred bolts of silk to redeem her body. All the couriers who assisted were given lavish gifts to make sure no word leaked out. The Mao Mountain messenger and the litter bearers were all taken out to the country and dealt with. For you, I also want to die. Don't stay here. Outside the gate there are ten sedan bearers, five horses and two hundred bolts of silk. Some time during the fifth watch, take Wushuang and set off. Afterwards, change your names and go far away to avoid any trouble."

When he was finished speaking, Gu raised his sword. Xianke made to stop him, but Gu's head had already fallen to the ground. Gu's head, together with his body was buried. After the burial, while the sky was still dark, they set out.

They ended up travelling through Sichuan, the Three Gorges. Finally, they settled down in a house in Jiangling. Afterwards, when there was no more bad news coming from the capital, he took his wife and children and returned to his coun28

Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction try house in Xiangdeng. Xianke, with Wushuang, finally together, lived to a riped old age, and had many children.

Ah! In life, many are the separations and reunions. However, rarely does one hear of a story comparable to this. I often say that, from the past to the present, there has not been another story like this one. Wushuang was born in turbulent times, when one's livelihood was not guaranteed, yet Xianke's determination was unchanged. Finally he met Gu, who was able to use a strange method to rescue Wushuang. To help Xianke with this problem, over ten innocent people had to die. After suffering a hard escape, they finally were able to return home, where they lived together as husband and wife for fifty years. Rare in this world is there such a marvelous stories!

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Kunlun Journal of Chinese Historical Fiction

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