Chinese Fairy Tales and Fantasies (Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library) by Moss Roberts Read Free Book Online Page B

Lu Kuei argued, “So long as she is worthy as a wife, what need for speech? Rather, she may discourage women who talk too much!” And so the wedding came to be allowed. The young man welcomed his new bride with full ceremony.
    For several years the young couple shared a tender, deepening love. They had a son, who showed exceptional intelligence at the age of two. Lu Kuei would cuddle the babe and speak to his wife, though she never replied. He tried many tricks to lure her into speaking, but she remained silent. Then in anger he said to her, “In olden times Lord Chia’s wife held him in such contempt that she would not spare him even a smile. However, Lord Chia humored his wife out of her vow of silence by shooting a pheasant. I am not so ugly as Lord Chia, and I have more culture than skill in archery. Yet you do not speak. If a man’s wife scorns him, what use has he for the son?”

     
    Lu Kuei grasped the babe’s feet and smashed its head against a rock. The babe’s head cracked at once, and blood spurted several paces. Tzu-ch’un felt a sharp pang of love surge in her heart. Her vow of silence slipped from her mind, and a cry of anguish slipped from her lips. And even as the brief cry was escaping her, Tzu-ch’un was sitting where he had been once before. The wizard stood before him. The last watch of night had just begun. Tzu-ch’un saw purple flames coming up from the roof and leaping into the sky. Then the fire closed in on them and burned building and interior.
    “Wretched scholar, how you have wronged me!” said the wizard as he lifted Tzu-ch’un by his coiffed hair and threw him into the cistern of water. At once the fires went out and the wizard said, “Your mind had rid itself of joy, anger, sorrow, fear, loathing and desire—all forgotten. Only love remained. Had you not cried out just then, my medicine would have worked and you would have risen beyond your human state to become an immortal. Alas, such men are all too rare. I shall have to make this medicine over again, and you shall have to find your place in the world of men.” Then the wizard gestured toward the faraway home. Tzu-ch’un climbed onto the pavilion and looked: the furnace was ruined. Inside was an iron rod as thick as a man’s arm. Stripped to the waist, the wizard was hacking it with a knife and demolishing what remained.
    After Tzu-ch’un returned home, he was ashamed of forgetting his vow of silence. He took himself to task for his mistake and traveled to the Cloud Pavilion Peak. But he found no human sign and, sighing ruefully, returned home.
    —
Li Fu-yen

The Priest of Hardwork Mountains
     
    Young Wang, seventh son of an established family, lived in town among town comforts. Since childhood he had been fascinated with the occult, and hearing that many immortals could be found on Hardwork Mountains, he traveled there with his book bag on his shoulder.
    He made his way to a hilltop where a Taoist temple was secluded. Seated on a mat was a meditating priest. White hair hung down his neck, but he looked brisk and agile in body and mind. Wang paid his respects and spoke with the priest, whose explanation of the powers of the universe seemed wonderfully mysterious. Wang asked to study under him. “I am afraid,” the priest replied, “that one who has been so indulged as you may not be able to withstand the hardships.” “I’m sure I can,” said Wang.
    The priest’s many disciples gathered as dusk approached. Wang paid his respects to all and remained in the temple. At the crack of dawn the priest summoned Wang, gave him an axe, and told him to join the disciples in searching for firewood. Wang followed his instructions earnestly.
    More than a month went by. Wang’s hands and feet grew thick with calluses. And as the priest had predicted, he felt that he could not bear the hardships and inwardly resolved to go home.
    Returning to the temple one evening, he saw two men having dinner with the master. The sun had