Chinese Fairy Tales and Fantasies (Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library) (26 page)

“That explains it,” the man said. “Your ‘sun-time spirits’ are not yet used up, so the ‘shade-time’ fire won’t give you a light.”

Realizing that he was speaking with the dead, Ch’en pretended to be one also. “The world claims that men fear ghosts; is that true?” he asked them.

“Not at all,” replied one of the ghosts. “The truth is that ghosts fear men.”

“What is it about men that could frighten a ghost?” asked Ch’en.

“Saliva.”

At once Ch’en took a deep breath and spat at them. The two ghosts retreated three paces. Glaring, they said angrily, “Then you are not a ghost!”

Ch’en laughed. “In fact, not to deceive you, I am a man who is near to a ghost—near enough to spit on you.” This he did again, and each ghost contracted to half its former size. He spat a third time and they vanished.

—
Huang Chün-tsai

When Sung Ting-po of Nanyang was walking one night, he ran across a dead soul. “Who are you?” he asked.

“A ghost,” it replied, and added, “Who are you?”

“A ghost, too,” said Sung Ting-po to mislead it.

“Where are you headed?” asked the ghost.

“Yüan market town.”

“So am I.”

And so they proceeded. After several miles the ghost said, “We have quite a way to go. How about taking turns carrying each other?”

“Fine,” answered Sung Ting-po.

To begin with, the ghost carried Sung Ting-po on his shoulders for several miles. “You are so heavy, good friend,” the ghost commented, “that I’m wondering if you really
are
a ghost.”

“I’m a new ghost,” replied Sung Ting-po, “so my body is still heavy.” And Sung Ting-po took his turn carrying the ghost, which was practically weightless. They went on this way exchanging places a number of times.

“I’m a new ghost,” Sung Ting-po remarked again, “so I’m not familiar with what ghosts fear and avoid.”

“Human saliva,” replied the ghost. And the two continued on their way. Soon they came to a stream that they had to cross, and Sung Ting-po asked the ghost to go first. It waded in and made no sound. But when Sung Ting-po followed, his body swished
through the water, and the ghost asked, “How come you’re making that racket?”

“It’s just that the newly dead aren’t used to crossing water. Don’t hold it against me.”

The two were approaching their destination, and it was Sung Ting-po’s turn to carry the ghost. He set it upon his shoulders and then suddenly tightened his grip. The ghost cried, “Hey! Hey!” as it struggled to get down. But Sung Ting-po held fast. He marched straight into the Yüan market, and there he set it down. As the ghost touched the ground it turned into a sheep, which Sung put up for sale. Fearing that it might change itself again, he spat on it. He got 1,500 coppers for the sheep and went on his way.

This is a true story: a chronicle of the time says, “Sung Ting-po sold a ghost for 1,500 coppers.”

—
Kan Pao

My father heard this story from his grandfather.

In the city of Ching there was a man named Ch’iang San-mang. He was bold and direct, with no subtlety to him. One day he heard a man tell how Sung Ting-po had caught a ghost, and how the ghost had turned itself into a sheep to escape, and how Sung Ting-po had sold it and spat on it to prevent it from changing again.

Ch’iang San-mang was overjoyed. “Now I’m sure that ghosts can be captured,” he said. “If I could get one every night and turn it into a sheep, then the next morning I could bring it to the butcher’s and supply myself with meat and drink for the day.”

Every night thereafter he shouldered a club and, rope in hand, crept among the graves like a hunter stalking a rabbit. But he never came across anything. Places that everyone called haunted turned out to be barren, though once he even pretended to be in a drunken sleep to dare the ghosts to do their worst.

One evening he saw a few flares across the forest and rushed to the spot, but the lights dispersed like so many sparks before he arrived. After a month of this frustration, he gave up.

It would seem that the dead frighten men simply by exploiting their fear. Ch’iang San-mang was convinced that a ghost could be caught and tied up, and his fearlessness was enough to scare them off.

—
Chi Yün

Ai Tzu was traveling by water, and on his way he saw a temple. The temple was low and small, but it had a dignity that was impressive. In front of it ran a little ditch. As Ai Tzu watched, a man who was on foot reached the ditch but could not get across. So the man looked into the temple, grabbed a statue of the temple god, and placed it over the ditch. Then he stepped on the statue and went his way.

Another man came, saw the statue, and sighed, “Oh! for the holy image to be treated with such disrespect!” He righted the statue, rubbed it clean with his clothes, and set it reverently back in place. He bowed three times and went his way.

Moments later, Ai Tzu heard a little ghost in the temple speaking to the statue. “My Lord, you reside here as a god. You enjoy the offerings and rites of the villagers. Now this brute has insulted you; shouldn’t you bring disaster down on him to teach him a lesson?”

“If there are to be any disasters,” the temple god answered, “they will descend upon the second man.”

“The first man walked on you; what greater insult is there?” said the small ghost. “Yet you will not ruin him. The second man showed respect for you, my Lord, and yet you want to ruin him. Why?”

“The first man,” said the temple god, “no longer has faith, and I can no longer ruin him.”

“True it is,” said Ai Tzu, “that the gods fear the wicked.”

—
Attributed to Su Shih

Legend has it that many spooks and apparitions have plagued passersby near High Top Bridge in Hangchow. Once a solitary traveler was caught by a rainstorm there. Suddenly, convinced that the traveler was a ghost, another man under an umbrella charged toward him and forced the traveler off the bridge and into the water. Then the man fled until, seeing a light in the bathhouse east of the bridge, he hurried in for shelter.

Afterward the traveler arrived, also drenched. Panting, he said, “A ghost carrying an umbrella forced me into the river, and I nearly drowned.” “I saw the same ghost!” the first man said. Eyeing one another, the two slowly realized their mistake.

On another night of storm and drizzle, a man who had no lamp was crossing the bridge when he heard the sound of clogs behind him. Turning, he saw a large head on a body some two feet tall. He stopped to gape; the head also stopped. When he went on, the head went on. When he ran, the head ran. Panicking, the man flew to the bathhouse and pushed open the door. But before he could close it again, the head entered.

Faint from terror, the man lifted candle and saw a boy wearing a pot against the rain. Because he was afraid of ghosts, the child had followed the man for protection.

—
Lang Ying

Shih Hsü, an important general in Kiangsi, was a man skilled in logical reasoning. One of his students also held rational views and had always expressed the conviction that ghosts do not exist.

One day the student had an unexpected visitor, who was dressed in black clothes with white lapels. Their conversation touched on many subjects and eventually turned to ghosts about which the student and the stranger held contrary opinions. After a day of arguing, the visitor, having been bested, said, “Good sir, you are more than clever with words, but your reasoning is not perfect. For I myself am a ghost! Now how can you argue that there are none?”

“Why have you come?” asked the student.

“I have been assigned to take you. Your time expires tomorrow at dinner time.”

When the student pleaded in distress, the ghost said, “Do you know anyone who resembles you?”