Painted Skin

In Taiyuan, Wang Qi was walking early one morning when he encountered a young woman carrying a bundle and hurrying along alone, moving with great difficulty. He quickened his pace to catch up with her and saw she was a beauty of sixteen. His heart filled with delight and affection, and he asked, "Why are you walking alone at this early hour?" The woman replied, "A traveler cannot relieve another's sorrows; why trouble yourself to ask?" Wang said, "What sorrows do you have? Perhaps I can be of service, and I will not refuse." The woman said gloomily, "My parents were greedy for money and sold me to a wealthy household. The principal wife is extremely jealous; she curses me in the morning and beats and humiliates me in the evening. I cannot bear it, so I am going to flee far away." Wang asked, "Where are you going?" She said, "A fugitive has no fixed destination." Wang said, "My humble home is not far; I would trouble you to come." The woman was pleased and followed him. Wang carried her bundle for her and led her home. The woman looked around and saw no one else, and asked, "Why do you have no family?" He replied, "This is just my study." She said, "This place is very good. If you take pity on me and let me live, it must be kept secret; do not tell anyone." Wang agreed, and then slept with her. He hid her in a secret room, and after several days no one knew. Wang hinted about it to his wife. His wife, Chen, suspected she was a concubine from a great house and advised him to send her away. Wang would not listen.

Once, when he happened to go to the market, he met a Daoist priest, who looked at him in astonishment. The priest asked, "What have you encountered?" Wang replied, "Nothing." The priest said, "Your body is wrapped in evil qi; how can you say nothing?" Wang again vigorously denied it. The priest then left, saying, "How deluded! There are indeed those who face death and do not realize it." Wang thought his words strange and began to suspect the woman; but then he reflected that she was clearly a beautiful woman—how could she be a demon? He supposed the Daoist priest was just using exorcistic rites to make a living. Before long, he reached the door of his study, but it was bolted from inside and he could not enter. Suspicious of what was happening, he climbed over the broken wall and found the inner door also closed. Stealthily he crept to the window and peered in, where he saw a fierce demon with a green face and jagged teeth like a saw. It was spreading a human skin on the bed and painting it with a colored brush. Then it threw down the brush, lifted the skin as if shaking out a garment, draped it over itself, and transformed into the woman. Seeing this, he was terrified and crawled away like an animal.

He hurried after the Daoist priest but could not find where he had gone; he searched everywhere for him, and met him in the wilds, where he knelt and begged for rescue. The priest said, "Let me expel it. This creature has also suffered bitterly; it has just found someone to take its place, and I cannot bear to take its life." So he gave Wang his fly-whisk and told him to hang it over the bedroom door. Before parting, they agreed to meet at the Green Emperor Temple. Wang returned home, not daring to enter his study, so he slept in the inner chamber and hung up the whisk. Around the first watch, he heard a rustling sound outside the door. He did not dare to look. He only saw the woman come, gaze at the whisk, and not dare to enter; she stood there gnashing her teeth, and after a long while she left. Shortly she came again, cursing, "The priest is trying to frighten me. Even so, would I rather spit out what I have already taken?" She took the whisk, broke it to pieces, smashed through the bedroom door, and entered. She went straight to Wang's bed, ripped open his belly, scooped out his heart, and left.

His wife wailed. The maidservant entered with a candle and saw that Wang was already dead, his chest cavity a bloody mess. Chen was terrified and wept, but dared not cry out. The next day, she sent her younger brother Erlang to inform the Daoist priest. The priest said angrily, "I was lenient with it, but this fiend dared to do such a thing!" He immediately came with Erlang, but the woman was already gone. He looked up and gazed around, then said, "Fortunately, she has not fled far." He asked, "Whose house is the southern courtyard?" Erlang said, "That is my dwelling." The priest said, "She is now at your place." Erlang was astonished and said he thought not. The priest asked, "Has an unfamiliar person come?" Erlang replied, "I went to the Green Emperor Temple and truly do not know. I should go back and ask." He left and soon returned, saying, "Indeed there is one. This morning an old woman came, wanting to be hired as a servant for my household. My wife kept her there; she is still here." The priest said, "That is the creature." So they went together. The priest took his wooden sword, stood in the center of the courtyard, and shouted, "Wicked demon! Return my whisk!" The old woman in the room turned pale with terror and fled out the door. The priest pursued and struck her. The old woman fell, and the human skin slipped off with a sound, revealing a vengeful ghost, lying on the ground and howling like a pig. The priest cut off its head with the wooden sword; its body turned into thick smoke, coiling on the ground in a heap. The priest took out a gourd, pulled out its stopper, and placed it in the smoke. It made a whirring sound, like a mouth inhaling, and in an instant the smoke was gone. The priest stoppered the gourd and put it into his bag. They looked at the human skin together; its eyebrows, eyes, hands, and feet were all complete. The priest rolled it up, making a sound like rolling up a scroll, and also put it into his bag. Then he took his leave and was about to go.

Chen welcomed him at the gate, weeping and begging for a method to bring her husband back to life. The Daoist priest declined, saying he could not. Chen grew even more sorrowful and lay prostrate on the ground, refusing to rise. The priest pondered for a moment and said, "My arts are shallow; truly I cannot raise the dead. But I can direct you to someone who might be able to. Go and seek him out, and you will surely meet with success." She asked, "Who is that?" He replied, "There is a madman in the market, who often lies in filth and dung. Try kowtowing to him and pleading with him. If he should insult you, madam, do not be angry." Erlang had also heard of this man, so he took leave of the priest and went with his sister-in-law. They saw a beggar singing wildly in the street, with three feet of snot hanging from his nose, too filthy to approach. Chen went forward on her knees. The beggar laughed and said, "Fair lady, do you love me?" Chen told him the reason. He laughed again and said, "Every man can be a husband. What is the use of bringing him back to life?" Chen pleaded with him earnestly. Then he said, "How strange! When someone is dead, they come begging me for life. Am I Yama?" Angrily, he struck Chen with his staff. Chen endured the pain without flinching. The crowd in the market gradually gathered like a wall. The beggar coughed up a handful of phlegm and spittle, raised it to Chen's mouth, and said, "Eat it!" Chen's face flushed red, and she looked reluctant. But then she remembered the priest's instructions, so she forced herself to swallow it. She felt it go down her throat, hard like a lump of cotton, and it lodged in her chest with a grating sound. The beggar laughed loudly and said, "Fair lady, you love me indeed!" Then he got up and walked away without looking back. She followed him into a temple. She pursued him, begging for help, but he had disappeared. She searched high and low, but found no trace. Ashamed and resentful, she returned home.

Grieving over her husband's tragic death and ashamed of having eaten the spittle, she wept bitterly, wishing only to die. Just as she was about to wipe away the blood and prepare the corpse for burial, the family members stood watching, none daring to approach. Chen embraced the corpse, gathered the intestines, and wept as she arranged them. Her sobbing grew hoarse, and suddenly she felt nauseous. A lump in her chest rushed upward and burst out; before she could turn her head, it had fallen into the chest cavity. Startled, she looked and saw it was a human heart. It was still throbbing in the cavity, and steam rose from it like smoke. Greatly astonished, she quickly pressed the chest together with both hands, squeezing with all her might. When she relaxed slightly, vapor seeped out through the gap. She tore a strip of silk and bound it tightly. She touched the corpse; it gradually grew warm. She covered it with a quilt. At midnight, she lifted the cover and saw that it was breathing. By dawn, he was alive. He said, 'I felt as if in a dream, only a dull pain in my abdomen.' When they looked at the wound, a scab the size of a coin had formed. Soon he recovered.

The Historian of the Strange remarks: "How foolish are the people of this world! Clearly a demon, yet they take it for a beauty. How deluded are the fools! Clearly loyalty, yet they take it for nonsense. Yet those who lust after another's beauty and prey upon them will find their own wives swallowing another's spittle and finding it sweet. Heaven's way is a cycle of retribution, but the foolish and deluded do not awaken. How pitiful!"