A scholar from Fengyang County, setting out for his studies, told his wife he would return in six months. Who could have foreseen that over ten months passed with still no word? His wife, left alone in her chamber, found herself consumed by longing day after day.
That evening, as the wife retired to bed, the moonlight, brilliant and pure, streamed into the room. Suddenly, the door curtain was drawn back, and a stunningly beautiful woman in a crimson dress swept in.
The newcomer, adorned with jeweled flowers in her hair, smiled, saying, “It’s late and lonely, dear sister. Don’t you miss your husband?”
The wife sighed. “What good does missing him do?”
The woman replied, “Come, I will take you to see him.”
“You know my husband?”
“Don’t ask so many questions; just come with me.”
The two departed the house and moved swiftly across the open fields. The woman strode with the speed of flying, and the wife gradually fell behind, calling out, “Hey, wait up! I need to go back and change my shoes.”
The woman merely smiled in silence, helped her sit by the roadside, and took off her own shoes, offering them. “Wear mine.”
The wife hesitated. “But what about you?”
The woman laughed. “I’ve had tough skin since childhood; walking barefoot won’t hurt me. Don’t worry about me.”
The wife nodded, slipped on the new shoes, and to her surprise, the fit was perfect. They rose and hurried on, gradually arriving before a secluded house.
Just then, a man slowly approached, riding a small donkey. The moment the wife saw his face, joy lit up her expression. She cried out, “Husband! How is it you?”
The man, equally startled and delighted, asked, “My dear wife, where are you going?”
The wife replied, “I was just coming to find you.”
The scholar pointed toward the woman and inquired, “And who might this young lady be?”
The woman laughed. “Let’s not worry about my identity just yet. Sister has traveled far, and young Master has also been rushing through the night. Aren't you both tired? This is my humble abode; please come in and rest for the night. There is no rush to leave before morning.”
Saying this, she led the way into the courtyard, setting out wine and food to entertain them. She then whispered to the wife, “Tonight, the bright moon hangs high—perfect for drinking beneath its glow. The osmanthus in the back garden has just begun to bloom; shall we sit there?”
The scholar agreed readily. “Admiring the flowers and tasting the wine—marvelous, truly marvelous.”
The three sat beside a stone table in the back garden as maidservants brought successive courses of food and drink. The woman quietly said to the wife, “Sister, my feet are feeling rather cold. May I please have my shoes back?”
The wife, instantly embarrassed by the request, quickly returned the shoes and profusely apologized.
A short while later, with the feast fully served, the three drank several cups. The woman then declared, “For the long-awaited reunion of husband and wife, allow me to toast you both as a celebration.”
The scholar, captivated by the woman’s exquisite beauty, felt his heart sway. He quickly raised his cup to return the gesture. Glasses clinked, and host and guests enjoyed themselves thoroughly.
After perhaps ten cups, the scholar’s eyes grew hazy with drink, his gaze fixed incessantly on the woman as he muttered suggestive, flirtatious words. The woman, unoffended, occasionally returned his gaze with a lingering, seductive look, which only further confused and intoxicated the scholar.
The wife watched with a cold eye. Though displeased, her nature was gentle and virtuous, so she remained silent, offering no outburst.
As the scholar’s lust grew unchecked, his language became increasingly coarse and daring. Coincidentally, the woman came over again to offer him more wine, and the scholar laughed, “My lady, if you would sing me a tune, I will gladly drink this cup.”
The woman agreed. Plucking the strings of her pipa, she began to sing in a soft voice: “At dusk, the last remnants of makeup are shed; outside the window, the autumn wind chills the gauze. Listen to the sound of the banana leaves, a steady drizzle falls. Where can one find idle chat? My eyes strain for your return, tears fall like hemp fibers. I miss him, yet I resent him too; holding the embroidered shoe, I seek my fortune by divination.” Her song was melodious, soul-stirringly poignant.
When the song concluded, the woman smiled. “A common street ballad, perhaps unworthy of performance. But these songs are the fashion now. If my rendition was poor, I beg your indulgence, esteemed sir.”
The scholar was quick to praise. “Nonsense! Your beauty is matched only by your skill with the pipa, and your singing was simply divine. Wonderful, indescribably wonderful.”
The woman smiled faintly. “My capacity for wine is limited; I become intoxicated quickly. I deeply regret I must excuse myself.” With that, she stood and entered the inner room, but as she left, she secretly cast a knowing, alluring glance toward the scholar.
The scholar understood immediately. He said hastily to his wife, “Please wait here a moment; I need to step out for a moment.” He stood up and quickly departed.
The wife sat alone, miserable and desolate, filled with shame and anger. She wanted to return home alone but did not know the way. As she hesitated uncertainly, she suddenly heard sounds of moaning and heavy breathing emanating from the room. Unable to endure it any longer, she quietly crept to the window to listen. She heard laughter and unrestrained intimacy between a man and a woman inside—her husband shamelessly flattering the woman with an endless stream of sickeningly sweet words. Most infuriatingly, these were the exact words her husband had used when they were once intimate.
What on earth does he mean! Has he no shame left?
Thinking this, the wife trembled with pure rage, grinding her teeth, wishing she could leap into the river and end her life. Seething, she walked outside, intent on self-destruction, when she heard the thud of hooves. Her younger brother, Sanlang, was approaching, riding swiftly.
The siblings met. Sanlang asked, “Sister, what are you doing out here in the desolate countryside, all alone?”
“What am I doing?” the wife snapped back, lacking patience. “Your brother-in-law is having an affair, and I’m standing watch for him.”
Sanlang was instantly enraged. Without a word, he dismounted, snatched up a large stone, and stormed into the courtyard. Reaching the window, he indeed heard the sounds of intimate dalliance. Thinking no further, Sanlang lifted the stone with all his force and smashed the windowpane. With a loud bang, the glass shattered instantly, and the massive rock flew like lightning straight toward the bed inside.
From within the room came a sharp, panicked shriek from the woman: “His head is smashed! What shall we do?”
The wife was utterly horrified and reproached her brother, “I didn’t tell you to kill anyone! What are we going to do now?”
Sanlang bristled angrily. “I was trying to stand up for you, and you blame me? Hmph, I’m done with this.” He turned to leave.
The wife rushed to grab his clothes, crying out, “Where are you going? If you leave, you must take me with you!”
Sanlang ignored her, shoved his sister roughly to the ground, and left her there.
The wife suddenly awoke—it had all been a strange, vivid dream.
The next day, the scholar did indeed return, riding his donkey. He told his wife, “Last night I had the most peculiar dream.” He then recounted the dream in detail. The wife’s face changed color. “Husband, how is it that your dream is exactly like mine?”
While they were still puzzling over this, Sanlang arrived too. He greeted them, “Brother-in-law, last night I dreamt you returned, and here you are today! How strange.”
The scholar laughed. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t crushed by a great stone.” Sanlang gave a sheepish smile. “You know about it?” It turned out Sanlang had also shared the identical dream.
All three found the situation baffling. If their dreams were the same, then who, exactly, was that mysterious woman?