The Isle of Ancient Relics in the East Sea had always remained uninhabited, rarely visited by human foot. Upon this island grew the five-colored camellias, flowers that bloomed eternally, never fading throughout the seasons.

Zhang Sheng, a native of Dengzhou, possessed an inherently curious nature and a fondness for hunting expeditions. One day, packing provisions and wine, he steered a small skiff toward the Isle of Ancient Relics for a recreational outing. He found the island teeming with vibrant blossoms, their fragrance wafting for several li, and towering trees so immense that it would take ten men to encircle one. The surrounding scenery was so delightful that he lingered, uncorking a bottle to drink alone, lamenting the lack of companionship. Suddenly, a woman emerged from the thicket of flowers, clad in a red skirt of unimaginable splendor. Seeing Zhang Sheng, she smiled, saying, "I considered myself a person of refined taste, but I did not expect to find a fellow spirit in you, young master."

Zhang Sheng, startled, inquired, "Who might you be, miss?"

The woman replied, "I am a courtesan from Jiaodong. I came here to enjoy the sights with Young Master Hai. He has gone ahead to explore the deeper mysteries of the area, but I tired easily, so I remained here to wait."

Unable to bear the loneliness, Zhang Sheng invited the beauty to share his wine. As the drink warmed them, the two embraced and grew intimate, the woman offering no resistance.

After an immeasurable time, a sudden, violent gale swept through, snapping branches with loud cracks. The woman’s complexion shifted dramatically. "Young Master Hai has returned," she whispered. Zhang Sheng hastily dressed himself, looking frantically about, but the woman had vanished. As he stood there, filled with suspicion, a python as thick as a water bucket slithered out from the undergrowth and coiled tightly around him, encircling him several times, trunk and all.

The great serpent raised its head and lashed its tongue against Zhang Sheng’s nose, causing blood to stream down onto the ground, pooling slightly. The serpent lowered its head and licked the pool clean, leaving not a single drop remaining. A thought stirred in Zhang Sheng's mind: This strange snake craves blood; perhaps there is a way to deal with it. With great effort, he wiggled his fingers, reaching inside his sash to retrieve a packet of poison—the very substance he typically used for fox hunting. Focusing strength in his fingertips, Zhang Sheng pierced the packet, allowing the powder to spill into his right palm.

Zhang Sheng turned his head, angling his nose directly over his open palm. Drop by drop, his own blood fell, gathering where the powder lay. The monstrous snake, excited by the sight of blood, immediately thrust out its tongue and began to lick wildly. The poisoned blood entered its belly. The creature writhed on the ground in agony, snapping young trees as it thrashed. Soon, the venom spread through its system; after two final spasms, it lay dead.

Zhang Sheng, having narrowly escaped death, was utterly terrified and fled back to his hometown in the skiff. Upon returning, he fell severely ill, taking several months to recover, his heart deeply convinced: the woman and the serpent were unquestionably of the same breed.

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