Sun Zichu of Western Yue was a young scholar of renown, distinguished by his extra finger and a disposition so guileless that he believed every word he was told. Whenever he attended a banquet where singing girls were present, Sun Zichu would hastily retreat; if escape proved impossible, he would sit up straight, his gaze fixed rigidly ahead. Should a courtesan approach to tease him, Sun Zichu’s face would flush crimson, his neck thick with exertion, and sweat would pour down his brow. Due to his simple-minded behavior, the other scholars mockingly nicknamed him "Sun the Fool."

In the county town lived a wealthy man whose riches rivaled those of royalty. He had a daughter named A’bao, whose beauty was unparalleled. The rich man sought a husband for her, and suitors lined up incessantly, yet none satisfied him. Coincidentally, Sun Zichu’s wife had recently passed away, and someone suggested he call upon the rich man to propose marriage. Without much thought, Sun Zichu followed the advice.

The rich man had heard of Sun Zichu’s reputation but hesitated because of the scholar’s poverty. When the rich man’s wife was out, she encountered A’bao and asked, “Sun Zichu has come to propose; what are you thinking of doing?”

A’bao jested, “If Young Master Sun can chop off that extra finger, I will marry him.”

The wife relayed her daughter’s words to Sun Zichu. Sun Zichu chuckled, saying, “That is no difficulty.” After the wife departed, Sun Zichu seized an axe and severed his own finger. The pain was excruciating, blood flowed in torrents, and he immediately lost consciousness. Several days later, he could manage to walk and proceeded to the rich man’s residence to visit, showing the severed digit to his prospective mother-in-law. The wife was greatly alarmed and hurried to consult with her daughter. A’bao was secretly astonished, remarking, “If he could also cast off his foolishness, I would surely pledge myself to him.”

Sun Zichu was furious upon hearing this. He thought to himself, I am not a fool, but this was hard to prove. He then considered, Perhaps A’bao is not the celestial beauty described; why should I willingly submit to her whims for the sake of her looks? Having clarified this in his mind, he became disheartened and departed on his own accord.

Not long after, the Qingming Festival arrived. Following custom, on this day, women ventured out for spring outings, and frivolous young men, hearing the news, paired up to follow them, seizing the opportunity to jest freely. A friend invited Sun Zichu to join the merriment, but Sun Zichu shook his head, unmoved.

The friend laughed, “A’bao will be there too. Don’t you wish to catch a glimpse of the fair lady’s grace?” Sun Zichu thought, A’bao mocked me relentlessly before; humph, I shall indeed meet her. With this thought, he immediately decided to venture out.

Arriving at the outskirts of town, he spotted from afar a woman resting beneath a tree. The young men formed a human wall around her. His friend remarked, “This must be A’bao.” Approaching for a closer look, they confirmed it was indeed her.

Sun Zichu gazed intently, seeing that A’bao’s elegance was matchless. Before long, more scoundrels gathered. The lady rose and walked away gracefully. The crowd was captivated, commenting on her appearance, acting as if mad, yet only Sun Zichu remained silent.

The others paid him no mind and gradually dispersed. Turning back, they saw Sun Zichu standing stiffly, lost in a daze, unresponsive no matter how loudly they called. His friend grew anxious, tugging at his sleeve, and laughed, “Has A’bao spirited away your soul?” Sun Zichu still offered no reply.

The friend secretly shook his head, thinking, Brother Sun’s foolish malady has returned. Unsurprised, he linked arms with him and escorted him home, laying him upon the bed. Sun Zichu lay paralyzed, not rising all day, in a drunken stupor. No matter how much he was called, he showed no sign of waking. His family suspected his soul had departed and invited a witch to summon it, but to no avail. The witch patted his head and asked, “If the soul does not return, when will it?” Sun Zichu mumbled vaguely, “I am at A’bao’s house.” The witch tried to question him further, but Sun Zichu tightly closed his eyes and fell silent. Seeing this, his family was utterly bewildered.

Previously, when Sun Zichu watched A’bao depart, an unwillingness to let her go stirred in him, and he suddenly felt his soul float upward, landing upon A’bao’s sash. Following the young lady, he traveled until they reached her private chamber. Where A’bao sat, he sat; where A’bao slept, he slept. At night, he engaged in intimacy with A’bao, perfectly content, though hunger gnawed at him. He began to miss his own home and longed to visit, pondering this dilemma endlessly, but alas, he did not know the way back.

Every night, A’bao dreamt of making love to a strange man. When she asked his name, he replied, “I am Sun Zichu.” She was inwardly astonished, yet dared not tell anyone of such a shameful matter.

Sun Zichu lay unconscious at home for three days, his breath shallow. His fearful family sent someone to inform the rich man, requesting permission to perform the soul-calling ritual at his house. The rich man laughed, “We rarely interact; how could Sun Zichu be in my house?” The family begged pitifully, and the rich man’s heart softened; reluctantly, he consented.

The witch arrived, carrying Sun Zichu’s old clothes and the mat he slept on, to perform the soul-calling. A’bao was horrified upon hearing this and quickly pulled the witch into her room, urging her to begin the rites.

After some effort, the witch took her leave and returned to the Sun household. Just as she reached the main gate, Sun Zichu was already moaning, and soon after, he awoke. He muttered aloud, describing the furnishings in A’bao’s room—every table, chair, bedstead, mirror, and cosmetic box—detailing their colors and names with perfect accuracy.

A’bao learned of this and grew even more terrified, but then she reflected: Sun Zichu’s devotion to her was singular and profound, and she was moved by it.

After recovering, Sun Zichu was restless every day, his expression vacant. He constantly sent messengers to inquire after A’bao, hoping for another glimpse of the fair lady. Before long, the Bathing of the Buddha Festival arrived. Sun Zichu heard A’bao would visit the Shuiyue Temple to offer incense, and he was beside himself with joy. He rushed to the temple grounds at dawn and waited until his eyes burned dry and his throat felt scorched, until noon when A’bao finally arrived late. Peering out from the carriage curtains, she gazed affectionately at Sun Zichu. Moved and entranced, Sun Zichu followed the carriage steps loyally, never straying an inch.

A’bao commanded her maid to ask his name. Sun Zichu told her truthfully. His soul felt unsteady until the carriage departed, then he reluctantly returned home. Upon arriving, Sun Zichu relapsed, refusing food or drink, constantly calling A’bao’s name in his dreams. Coincidentally, a parrot in the house died, and Sun Zichu thought, If only I could possess the parrot and fly to A’bao’s chamber.

As he pondered, his soul floated forth, merging with the parrot, instantly transforming into a winged creature. Sun Zichu was beside himself with elation. Without further thought, he flapped his wings and soared toward A’bao’s bedroom.

Suddenly, a parrot entered the room. A’bao was intrigued and laughed, catching the bird, intending to tie a string around its leg. The parrot cried out, “Sister, do not tie me; I am Sun Zichu.”

A’bao was greatly alarmed. She untied the string, and the parrot circled around her, lingering unwillingly to depart. A’bao sighed, “Young Master’s affection is so deep; this humble one remembers it well, but since we are human and bird, how can we unite?”

The parrot replied, “To be able to remain by Sister’s side is enough for my remaining desire.”

Servants brought food and drink, but the parrot refused to eat or drink, only opening its beak when A’bao personally fed it. When A’bao sat, the parrot perched on her lap; when A’bao slept, the parrot rested beside her. Three days passed in this manner, and A’bao grew increasingly fond of the parrot. She sent someone to Sun Zichu’s house to inquire after him. The messenger returned reporting: Young Master Sun lay stiff on his bed, having been lifeless for three days, yet his chest still held a trace of warmth.

A’bao prayed devoutly, “If the Young Master can return to human form, I vow to follow him unto death.”

The parrot asked, “Are you not deceiving me with these words?”

A’bao stated firmly, “Absolutely not.” Her tone was resolute.

The parrot looked askance, deep in thought. A moment later, A’bao bent over to remove her embroidered shoe. The parrot suddenly swooped down, snatched the shoe in its beak, and flew out the window, vanishing into the clouds in an instant.

A’bao dispatched a maid to check on him, who happened to see the parrot fly back into the house, the embroidered shoe still in its mouth, before it dropped to the ground and died. Shortly after, Sun Zichu opened his eyes and awoke, calling out, “The shoe, where is the embroidered shoe?”

His family retrieved the shoe for him. Sun Zichu held it, stroking it with a look of blissful absorption. The maid entered the room and asked, “Young Master, where did this embroidered shoe come from?”

Sun Zichu replied, “It is a token from A’bao. Please convey to her that a noble lady’s promise is worth a thousand gold pieces; she must not renege on what she has said.”

The maid took her leave and recounted everything she had seen and heard. A’bao found the situation peculiar and consulted her mother about a course of action. The wife mused, “Sun Zichu is known as a talent, but his family is poor. If we take him as a son-in-law, we might be ridiculed by the prominent families.”

A’bao declared, “I have already made a pact with Young Master Sun; this bond shall not be broken.”

The wife sighed, “Since the young man’s affection is so earnest, we shall fulfill your wishes. But there is one condition: if Sun Zichu is to marry you, he must marry into the family.”

A’bao objected, “That will not do. Though Young Master Sun is poor, he possesses great integrity. If Mother asks him to marry in, what will others think? Contempt, scorn, and incessant gossip—how could he endure it? All this daughter asks is to share simple meals with Young Master Sun, cherishing each other; beyond that, she dares not hope for anything.”

The wife sighed, “A daughter leans outward; the path you choose, you must bear the consequences. Do not regret it later.” This statement was, in effect, a concession to A’bao.

Not long after, Sun Zichu formally proposed marriage. The gifted scholar and the beautiful maiden, lovers at last, were wed, feeling as if they had met across ages.

A’bao brought numerous dowry gifts; gold and silver were not lacking, and their married life was free from want. A’bao was meticulous and skilled at managing finances; Sun Zichu never needed to concern himself with household affairs, burying himself day and night in his studies.

Three years later, Sun Zichu suddenly fell gravely ill and died from the sickness. A’bao was overcome with grief, nearly dying herself, and attempted suicide by hanging late one night, but was fortunately discovered in time by a maid and saved. However, A’bao’s resolve to die was fixed; she neither ate nor drank daily, her beauty fading into haggardness. One day, as A’bao attended Sun Zichu’s funeral procession, she suddenly heard a moan and a tremor from within the coffin. She rushed to open the lid to check, and saw Sun Zichu’s face vividly lifelike—he had actually been resurrected. He said, “When I reached the Underworld, the King of Hell stated that I had been honest and sincere in life and wished to promote me to the rank of Ministry Clerk. At that moment, someone reported, ‘Minister Clerk Sun’s wife is about to arrive.’ The King consulted the Register of Life and Death and said, ‘This woman’s fate is not yet due; what is the matter?’ Someone replied, ‘She has been on a hunger strike for three days and will not live much longer.’ The King nodded and told me, ‘Your esteemed wife’s affection is deep and meaningful; I bestow upon you a return to the living so that husband and wife may reunite.’ And just like that, I lived again.”

After returning to the living world, Sun Zichu’s health gradually recovered. Soon, the provincial examinations began. Before the tests commenced, the young men engaged in playful mischief and drafted seven obscure, unconventional topics, telling Sun Zichu, “These are this year’s examination questions; we went to great trouble to obtain them. Memorize them upon returning, and you are sure to achieve renown in one go.”

Sun Zichu believed them entirely, studying the topics day and night, preparing seven elaborate essays. When the examination day arrived, the chief examiner, determined to prevent cheating, deliberately broke with convention, setting questions that were obscure and tricky. By chance, when the questions were distributed, they were exactly the ones Sun Zichu had prepared.

After the examination, Sun Zichu instantly claimed the top spot. The following year, he participated in the metropolitan examination and became a successful candidate, eventually being appointed Hanlin Academician. When the Emperor heard his story, he summoned Sun Zichu to inquire, and Sun Zichu recounted the events truthfully. The Emperor was greatly pleased and issued an edict summoning A’bao, showering the couple with vast treasures.