Yingning

Wang Zifu was a native of Luodian, Ju County. Orphaned early, he was exceptionally intelligent and entered the county school at fourteen. His mother doted on him and ordinarily would not allow him to roam the countryside. He had been betrothed to a Miss Xiao, but she died before the wedding, so his quest for a mate had not yet succeeded. At the Lantern Festival, his maternal cousin Wu invited him to go sightseeing. Just as they reached the outskirts of the village, a servant from Wu's house came to summon Wu away. Wang, seeing a throng of strolling maidens, followed his whim and wandered alone. There was a young lady accompanied by a maid, holding a sprig of plum blossoms. Her beauty was peerless, and her face was wreathed in smiles. Wang stared fixedly at her, utterly forgetting all restraint. After the girl had passed a few paces, she said to her maid, 'That young man has eyes that glare like a thief!' She dropped the blossom on the ground, laughed, and walked away.

Wang picked up the blossom, utterly dejected, his soul lost, and returned home dispirited. Once there, he hid the flower under his pillow, hung his head, and went to sleep. He neither spoke nor ate. His mother grew worried. Daoist rites and prayers only made him worse; his flesh wasted sharply. Physicians came and prescribed sudorifics, but he remained dazed and confused. His mother questioned him about the cause, but he answered not a word. Just then Wu came, and she asked him to press the matter privately. Wu went to the bedside, and Wang wept at the sight of him. Wu sat by the couch, comforting him, and gradually drew out the truth. Wang told him everything and begged for a plan. Wu laughed and said, 'How foolish you are! What is so hard about fulfilling this wish? I will find her for you. Walking in the wilds, she cannot be from a noble house. If she is not betrothed, the matter is settled; if she is, we will offer a heavy bride-price, and it will surely be accepted. Just get well, and I will see to the rest.' At this, Wang could not help smiling. Wu left and told the mother, then set out to find where the girl lived. But though he searched far and wide, he found no trace. The mother was deeply worried, at her wit's end. Yet after Wu left, Wang's face brightened, and he began to eat a little. A few days later, Wu returned. Wang asked about his plan. Wu deceived him, saying, 'I have found her. And who do you think she is? She is my aunt's daughter, your cousin on your mother's side, still unwed. Though marriage between maternal relatives is frowned upon, if we tell the truth, it will surely be arranged.' Wang's face lit up with joy. 'Where does she live?' he asked. Wu lied, 'In the southwestern hills, about thirty li from here.' Wang urged him repeatedly, and Wu took the task upon himself and left.

From then on, Wang gradually ate more and recovered day by day. He looked under his pillow; though the flower had withered, it had not yet shed its petals. He stared at it, turning it over in his hands, as if seeing the girl herself. He wondered why Wu had not come and sent a note inviting him. Wu made excuses and refused to come. Wang grew angry and resentful, feeling gloomy and unhappy. His mother, fearing he would fall ill again, hurriedly arranged a match for him. Whenever she broached the subject, he shook his head, unwilling, and only hoped for Wu's arrival. Wu still brought no news, and Wang grew even more resentful. Then he thought that thirty li was not far—why should he depend on others? He put the plum blossom in his sleeve and, in a fit of pique, set off alone, unknown to his family. He walked alone, with no one to ask the way, and simply headed toward the southern mountains. After about thirty li, he found himself among tangled hills, where the clear green air refreshed his skin. It was silent, with no human travelers, only a path for birds. Gazing into the valley, he saw, amid a profusion of flowers and tangled trees, a faint glimpse of a small village. He descended the mountain and entered the village. The houses were few, all thatched cottages, but they looked neat and elegant. One house faced north, with silken willows before the gate and, inside the wall, peach and apricot trees in profusion, interspersed with tall bamboos; wild birds chattered among them. Thinking it was a garden pavilion, he dared not enter at once. Turning, he saw across the way a large, smooth stone, so he sat down to rest. Soon he heard a girl's voice inside the wall, calling out, 'Xiaorong!' in a delicate, sweet tone. As he stood listening, a young lady came from east to west, holding an apricot blossom, and bowed her head to put it in her hair. She looked up, saw him, and stopped, then smiling, she took the flower and went inside. Looking closely, he saw it was the girl he had met on the road during the Lantern Festival. His heart leaped with joy. But he thought he had no way to approach her; he wanted to call her 'cousin,' but they had never had any dealings, and he feared making a mistake. There was no one at the gate to ask. He paced back and forth, sitting and lying down, from morning till sunset, gazing intently until his eyes ached, forgetting hunger and thirst. From time to time, the girl showed half her face and peeped at him, as if surprised that he had not left. Suddenly an old woman, leaning on a staff, came out and said to Wang, 'Young sir, where are you from? I hear you have been here since the hour of the Dragon and are still here. What do you intend? Are you not hungry?' Wang hastily rose and bowed, replying, 'I have come to see a relative.' The old woman was hard of hearing and did not catch him. He spoke louder. She asked, 'What is the surname of your honored relative?' Wang could not answer. The old woman laughed and said, 'How strange! You do not even know the name—what relative can you seek? I think you are just a bookworm. Better come with me. I will give you some coarse food to eat, and I have a short couch where you can sleep. Tomorrow, when you go home and find out the name, you can come back to visit—it will not be too late.' Wang was indeed hungry and wanted to eat, and besides, this would bring him closer to the beauty, so he was overjoyed. He followed the old woman inside. Inside the gate, white stones paved the path, lined with red flowers, whose petals fell in drifts on the steps. The path wound westward, then passed through another gate, where a trellis of beans and flowers filled the courtyard. She ushered him into the house. The whitewashed walls were as bright as a mirror; outside the window, branches of crabapple blossoms reached into the room. The cushions, mats, tables, and couches were all spotless. As soon as he sat down, someone peeped at him furtively from outside the window. The old woman called, 'Xiaorong! Hurry and prepare some millet.' A maidservant outside answered with a loud cry. While seated, he explained his family background. The old woman said, 'Is your maternal grandfather's surname not Wu?' 'Yes,' he replied. The old woman exclaimed in surprise, 'Then you are my nephew! Your mother is my younger sister. In recent years, because our family was poor and had no grown son, our correspondence was cut off. You have grown up so big, and I did not even recognize you.' Wang said, 'I came precisely to see my aunt, and in my haste I forgot the surname.' The old woman said, 'My surname is Qin. I have no children of my own; the only child I have is a daughter by a concubine. Her mother remarried and left her for me to raise. She is not unintelligent, but she lacks discipline and is too playful to know any sorrow. In a little while, I will have her come to pay her respects.'

Soon the maidservant brought the meal, with a plump young chicken. The old woman urged him to eat, and when he finished, the maid came to clear the dishes. The old woman said, 'Call Miss Ning.' The maid answered and left. After a long while, they heard faint laughter outside the door. The old woman called again, 'Yingning, your elder cousin is here.' The laughter outside did not stop, but grew even more unrestrained. The maid pushed her in, but she still covered her mouth, unable to stifle her laughter. The old woman glared at her and said, 'With a guest present, cackling like this—what kind of behavior is that?' The girl forced herself to stop laughing and stood still. Wang bowed to her. The old woman said, 'This is Master Wang, your aunt's son. Even the family does not know each other—how ridiculous.' Wang asked, 'How old is my little cousin?' The old woman did not understand. Wang repeated the question. The girl burst out laughing again, unable to look up. The old woman said to Wang, 'I told you she lacked discipline—now you see it. She is already sixteen, but as silly as a baby.' Wang said, 'She is one year younger than me.' 'Ah, my nephew is seventeen—were you not born in the year of the Horse?' Wang nodded. She asked again, 'Who is your wife?' He replied, 'I have none.' She said, 'With your talent and looks, why are you still unmarried at seventeen? Yingning also has no betrothal—you would be a perfect match. It is a pity that you are maternal relatives.' Wang said nothing, but fixed his eyes on Yingning, unable to look away. The maid whispered to the girl, 'His eyes are burning—the thief's look has not changed!' The girl laughed again and said to the maid, 'Go see if the green peach has bloomed.' She rose quickly, covered her mouth with her sleeve, and walked out with quick, mincing steps. Once outside, she let out a full laugh. The old woman also rose and called for the maid to prepare bedding for Wang. She said, 'My nephew has come a long way—you should stay for three or five days, and I will send you home later. If you find it dull, there is a small garden behind the house where you can amuse yourself, and books to read.' The next day, he went behind the house and found a half-mu garden, with fine grass like a carpet and willow catkins strewn on the path. There were three thatched rooms, surrounded by flowers and trees. As he strolled among the flowers, he heard a rustling sound in the treetops. Looking up, he saw Yingning there. When she saw him coming, she laughed wildly, almost falling. Wang said, 'Don't do that—you will fall!' The girl came down laughing, unable to stop herself. Just as she was about to reach the ground, she lost her grip and fell, and the laughter ceased. Wang helped her up, secretly squeezing her wrist. She burst out laughing again, leaning against a tree, unable to walk, and only stopped after a long time. Wang waited until her laughter subsided, then took the flower from his sleeve and showed it to her. She took it and said, 'It is withered. Why keep it?' He said, 'This is what you dropped at the Lantern Festival, so I kept it.' 'What is the point of keeping it?' she asked. 'To show that I love you and cannot forget you. Since we met at the Lantern Festival, I have been lovesick and nearly died. I never thought I would see you again—I beg you to take pity on me.' The girl said, 'That is a trivial matter. Why should relatives be stingy? When you leave, I will call an old servant to pick a huge bundle of flowers from the garden and carry it for you.' Wang said, 'Are you crazy, little cousin?' She said, 'Why do you call me crazy?' He said, 'It is not the flowers I love—it is the one who held them.' She said, 'We are close kin—love goes without saying.' He said, 'The love I speak of is not the love of relatives, but the love of husband and wife.' She said, 'Is there a difference?' He said, 'It means sharing a pillow and mat at night.' The girl lowered her head and thought for a long time, then said, 'I am not used to sleeping with strangers.' Before she finished, the maid came stealthily, and Wang fled in panic. A little later, they met in the old woman's room. The old woman asked, 'Where have you been?' The girl answered that they had been talking in the garden. The old woman said, 'The meal has been ready for a long time. What long-winded talk made you so late?' The girl said, 'Big Brother wanted me to sleep with him.' Before she finished, Wang was mortified and glared at her urgently. The girl smiled and stopped. Fortunately, the old woman did not hear, but kept pressing for details. Wang quickly changed the subject, then whispered a reproach to the girl. She said, 'Was that not the right thing to say?' He said, 'That is something to say in private.' She said, 'If I hide it from others, how can I hide it from my mother? Besides, sleeping together is an ordinary thing—why be secretive?' Wang hated her naivety, but had no way to enlighten her. Just as they finished eating, someone from his family arrived with two donkeys to look for him.

Earlier, when his mother had waited for him long without his return, she began to worry. They searched the village thoroughly but found no trace. So she went to ask Wu. Wu recalled what he had said earlier and told her to search in the mountain villages to the southwest. After passing through several villages, they finally arrived here. As Wang came out, he happened to meet them, so he went in to tell the old woman and asked to take the girl home with him. The old woman was delighted and said, 'I have had this intention for a long time, not just today. But my frail body cannot travel far. Now that my nephew is taking my little girl to see her aunt, that is excellent!' She called for Yingning. Yingning came laughing. The old woman said, 'What is there to be so happy about that you cannot stop laughing? If you could stop laughing, you would be a perfect person.' She glared at her angrily. Then she said, 'Your elder brother wants to take you with him. Go and pack.' She also gave food and drink to the servants, then saw them off, saying, 'Your aunt's family has plenty of land and can support an extra person. When you get there, do not hurry back. Study a little poetry and propriety, and learn to serve your parents-in-law. I will ask your aunt to find you a good match.' The two set off. When they reached the mountain pass, they looked back and could still faintly see the old woman leaning on her staff, gazing northward.

When they reached home, Wang's mother saw the beautiful girl and asked in surprise who she was. Wang said she was his aunt's daughter. His mother said, 'What Wu told you before was a lie. I have no elder sister, so how could I have a niece?' She asked the girl, who said, 'I was not born of my mother. My father was of the Qin family. When he died, I was still in swaddling clothes and cannot remember.' His mother said, 'I did have an elder sister who married into the Qin family—that is true—but she passed away long ago. How could she still be alive?' She then questioned the girl about her face and birthmarks, and everything matched. Still puzzled, she said, 'That is so. But she has been dead for many years—how could she still exist?' While they were still wondering, Wu arrived. The girl withdrew into the room. Wu learned the story and was lost in thought for a long time. Suddenly he said, 'Is this girl called Yingning?' Wang said yes. Wu exclaimed that it was strange. When asked how he knew, Wu said, 'After Aunt Qin died, Uncle Qin lived as a widower. He was haunted by a fox spirit, fell ill, and wasted away. The fox gave birth to a girl named Yingning, who was wrapped and lying on the bed—the whole family saw her. After Uncle died, the fox still came sometimes. Later, when a Heavenly Master's talisman was pasted on the wall, the fox took the girl away. Could this be her?' They all speculated. From within the room came the sound of Yingning's giggling. His mother said, 'This girl is too silly.' Wu asked to see her. His mother went into the room, but the girl was still laughing heartily, paying no attention. His mother urged her to come out. She forced herself to stop laughing, faced the wall for a while, and then came out. She had barely made her bow when she turned and ran back inside, bursting into loud laughter. All the women in the room were amused. Wu offered to go and investigate the strange circumstances, and also to act as matchmaker. He went to the village, but found no houses at all—only scattered mountain flowers. Wu remembered where his aunt was buried, which seemed not far away, but the grave was overgrown and unrecognizable. He returned in amazement. His mother suspected the girl was a ghost. She went in and told her what Wu had said, but the girl showed no fear. When they condoled with her on having no family, she showed no sadness either—she just kept smiling foolishly. No one could understand her. His mother told her to share a room with the younger daughter. At dawn she would come to pay her respects, and her needlework was exquisite. But she loved to laugh, and could not be stopped even when forbidden. Yet when she laughed, she was charming, and her wildness did not diminish her beauty, so everyone liked her. Neighbor girls and young women vied to befriend her. His mother chose an auspicious day for the wedding, but still feared she might be a ghost. She secretly watched her in the sunlight, but her shadow was no different from anyone else's. On the wedding day, they dressed her splendidly for the ceremony, but she laughed so hard she could not bow, so they had to stop. Wang worried that her naivety might cause her to reveal their private affairs, but she was very secretive and would not say a word. Whenever his mother was worried or angry, the girl would come and laugh, and the mood would lift. When servants made small mistakes and feared a beating, they would ask the girl to go and talk with his mother, and when the guilty servant came to confess, they were often forgiven. She was also addicted to flowers, seeking rare varieties from all their relatives. She would secretly pawn her gold hairpins to buy fine seeds. Within a few months, the steps, the walls, and even the latrines were covered with flowers.

Behind the courtyard there was a trellis of banksia roses, originally belonging to the western neighbor. The girl would often climb up to pick them for her hair ornaments. Whenever her mother saw this, she would scold her, but the girl never changed. One day, the western neighbor's son saw her and stared fixedly, utterly captivated. The girl did not avoid him but laughed. The young man thought she had taken a liking to him, and his heart grew even more agitated. The girl pointed at the base of the wall, laughed, and climbed down. The young man took this as an indication of a meeting place and was overjoyed. At dusk he went there, and the girl was indeed waiting. He approached and tried to have intercourse with her, but felt a sharp pain like a needle piercing his heart. He cried out loudly and fell to the ground. Looking closely, he saw it was not the girl but a withered tree lying by the wall; what he had penetrated was a water-soaked hole. The neighbor's father heard the noise and rushed over to question him, but the young man only groaned and said nothing. When his wife came, he finally told the truth. They lit a torch to examine the hole and saw a huge scorpion inside, as big as a small crab. The old man broke the wood, caught the scorpion, and killed it. He carried his son home, but by midnight the son died. The neighbor sued Wang, accusing Yingning of being a demon. The magistrate had long admired Wang's talent and knew him to be a man of virtuous conduct, so he deemed the neighbor's accusation false and was about to have him caned. Wang pleaded for mercy on his behalf, and the neighbor was released. Wang's mother said to the girl, 'Such foolish wildness! I knew that excessive joy would lead to sorrow. The magistrate is wise, and luckily we were not implicated. If it had been a muddled official, he would have summoned you to the court for interrogation—how could my child ever face our relatives again?' The girl became serious and swore she would never laugh again. Her mother said, 'Everyone laughs, but it must be at the proper time.' From then on, the girl indeed never laughed again. Even when deliberately teased, she still would not laugh. Yet all day long she never showed a sad expression.

One evening, she shed tears before Wang. Surprised, he asked why. Yingning sobbed and said, 'Before, because we had been together only a short time, I feared that speaking of it would startle you. Now I see that my mother-in-law and you both love me deeply and harbor no doubts, so perhaps it is safe to tell you plainly. I was born of a fox spirit. When my mother left, she entrusted me to a ghost mother, and we depended on each other for over ten years before I came to this day. I have no brothers; my only reliance is you. My old mother lies alone in the mountain, with no one to pity her and bury her together with my father. In the underworld, she grieves and resents this. If you would not begrudge the trouble and expense, and let the one underground be freed from this sorrow, then perhaps those who raise daughters need not drown or abandon them.' Wang agreed, but worried that the grave was lost among the wild grass. The girl only said not to worry. On an appointed day, the husband and wife carried a coffin to the place. Amid the misty thickets and tangled brambles, the girl pointed out where the grave was, and indeed they found the old woman's corpse, the skin still intact. The girl wept over it in grief. They carried it back, found the Qin family grave, and buried them together. That night, Wang dreamed that the old woman came to thank him. When he woke, he told the dream to Yingning. She said, 'I saw her tonight too. She told me not to startle you.' Wang regretted that he had not invited her to stay. The girl said, 'She is a ghost. Living people have abundant yang qi—how could she stay long?' Wang asked about Xiaorong. She said, 'She too is a fox spirit, and the cleverest. My fox mother left her to look after me. She would often gather food to feed me, so I am always grateful to her in my heart. Yesterday I asked my mother, and she said Xiaorong has already married.' From then on, every year at the Cold Food Festival, the husband and wife would go to the Qin grave to pay their respects, never missing a year. The following year, Yingning gave birth to a son. Even as an infant in arms, he was not afraid of strangers. He would laugh at anyone he saw—very much like his mother.

The Historian of the Strange remarks: "Observing her diligent, innocent laughter, she seemed utterly without a heart. Yet the cruel trick at the wall—who could be more cunning than that? When it came to her sorrowful attachment to her ghost mother, she turned from laughter to tears. My Yingning was perhaps one who concealed herself in laughter. I have heard that in the mountains there is a plant called the 'Laughing Herb.' If you smell it, you cannot stop laughing. If one planted this in one's chamber, then the joy-plant and the forget-sorrow herb would lose all their color. As for the 'talking flower,' one would only find her affected."