A certain painter, surnamed Wu, possessed an intense love for his art, with his greatest devotion reserved for painting portraits of Lü Dongbin. Every time he encountered an image of the Taoist immortal, his spirit would soar, consumed by the longing to meet such a celestial being—a thought that occupied his mind constantly, never fading.

One day, the painter went out for a stroll in the countryside and came across a group of beggars drinking wine. One beggar among them had his tunic thrown open, his arms bare, radiating an extraordinary spirit. The painter immediately suspected this man might be Lü Dongbin, and as he scrutinized the figure closer, the resemblance grew undeniable. He quickly seized the beggar’s arm and declared, “You are Lü Dongbin.” The beggar burst into laughter. The painter remained steadfast in his conviction; suddenly, he dropped to the ground and remained kneeling without rising. The beggar remarked, “Even if I were Lü Dongbin, what then?” The painter repeatedly kowtowed, imploring the beggar for guidance.

The beggar then said, “It is fate that brought us to meet. However, this is hardly the place for conversation. Return tonight, and we shall meet again.” The painter tried to ask more questions, but when he looked up, the beggar had vanished without a trace. Astonished, the painter immediately returned home.

That night, the painter indeed dreamed that Lü Dongbin visited him. The immortal said, “I have come because of your singular devotion and sincere faith in the Tao. But your disposition is too miserly; you cannot attain immortality. I shall introduce you to another.” With a wave toward the empty air, a stunning woman appeared, stepping down from the void. Her robes were magnificent, and her countenance radiant. Lü Dongbin instructed, “This is Lady Dong. Observe her closely, and commit her likeness to memory.” Then he asked, “Have you memorized her?” The painter replied, “I have.” Lü Dongbin cautioned him, “Do not forget her for anything.” In a moment, the lady disappeared, and Lü Dongbin was gone as well.

Upon waking, the painter relied on the memory from his dream to create a portrait of Lady Dong, which he carefully preserved.

Years later, the painter traveled to the capital city. Coincidentally, Noble Consort Dong in the Imperial Palace had just passed away. The Emperor, overcome with grief for his beloved, summoned numerous court artists and commanded them to paint the late consort. Since none of the artists had ever seen Consort Dong, they had to work only from the Emperor’s verbal descriptions mixed with their own imaginings, and the resulting portraits were deeply unsatisfactory.

When the painter heard the news, he suddenly wondered, “Could that radiant lady from my dream so long ago have been Consort Dong?” He then presented the portrait of the beauty he had painted to the Emperor. Upon viewing the painting, the Emperor was overjoyed and intended to grant the painter an official post. The painter respectfully declined. After a moment of contemplation, the Emperor bestowed upon him ten thousand taels of gold.

From that time forward, the painter’s renown soared. Many wealthy and powerful families spared no expense to commission his work. When the painter put brush to silk, it was as if a spirit guided him; his renderings were astonishingly lifelike. In a mere ten days, he earned tens of thousands of silver pieces.