The Daoist Han resided in the Tianqi Temple in the county seat. He was known for his many illusions, and the common folk revered him as an immortal. My late father was well acquainted with him; whenever he passed through the county, he would invariably call upon him. One day, my father and my late uncle entered the city, ran into Daoist Han, and were gifted a key by him. Han said, “You two go ahead and open the temple doors, sit a while, and I will join you shortly.” With that, he departed with a flourish. My father did as instructed, went to the temple, pushed open the door, and entered, only to find Daoist Han already waiting inside. Such marvelous occurrences were numerous.

Prior to this, a clansman of mine had a terrible addiction to gambling. Through my father's introduction, he too became acquainted with Daoist Han. At that time, a monk arrived at the Great Buddha Temple, whose sole pursuit was gambling, and he gambled with great fervor. Upon hearing this, the clansman was overjoyed and headed to visit the monk, taking his entire family fortune with him. The two began to gamble, and the clansman suffered heavy losses, losing everything he had invested. Unwilling to accept defeat, he sold off his fields and property for another bout, only to lose it all in a single night. The clansman, dejected and disheartened, paid a visit to Daoist Han on his way back, looking utterly miserable and speaking incoherently. The Daoist inquired about the reason for his distress, and the clansman told him the truth.

Daoist Han laughed, “Constant gambling leads only to loss. If you can quit, I can help you recoup your losses.” The clansman declared, “If that is true, I will smash these dice with an iron pestle right now.” Daoist Han produced a paper talisman, instructing the clansman to wear it tied to his waist. He cautioned him, “As soon as you have recouped your losses, stop immediately. Do not covet more than what is due.” He also gave him one thousand wen in copper coins, saying, “Use this as your stake. Even after winning, you must repay this sum.”

The clansman departed in high spirits. The monk inspected the gambling funds and dismissed them with a sneer, remarking, “Just a few coins? I’ll lose that in one throw. I’m too busy to gamble with you.” The clansman insisted repeatedly, saying, “Then let’s just play one hand.” The monk smiled and agreed. The clansman staked the thousand wen, and when the monk rolled the dice, there was no winner declared. When it was the clansman’s turn, he won the opening throw. The monk was unconvinced and raised the stakes to two thousand wen, only to lose again. After this, the stakes grew ever larger, eventually escalating to ten thousand wen. When the clansman rolled the dice, though the markings clearly indicated a loss, with just a single shout, the outcome would instantly flip to a win. With such an unbroken string of victories, by his accounting, he had not only recovered his losses but had also gained a considerable profit.

The clansman thought to himself, “Wouldn’t it be even better to win a few thousand more wen?” With this thought, he continued to place his bets, but from that moment on, misfortune clouded him, and he won nothing further. Feeling puzzled, he glanced toward his waist, only to find the paper talisman had vanished without him noticing when.

The clansman was greatly alarmed and ceased gambling immediately. He swept up the copper coins from the table, hurried back to the temple, took out one thousand wen to repay the Daoist, and counted carefully—the winnings were precisely enough to cover his original stake, not a single coin more or less. He apologized profusely, “I am terribly sorry for losing your revered immortal’s magic talisman.” Daoist Han simply smiled, “The talisman is right here. I repeatedly warned you not to let greed take hold, but you would not listen. I had no choice but to recall the talisman myself.”