Yang Lian, courtesy name Dahong, was a renowned scholar from Hubei, possessing extraordinary talent and a strong sense of self-importance in his youth. After the imperial examinations concluded, a messenger announced the results outside. Yang Dahong was dining, a mouthful of rice held awkwardly in his cheek, and he inquired, "Is the name Yang someone listed?" The reply came: "No." Yang Dahong felt a profound sense of loss; the lump of rice lodged in his throat, impossible to dislodge, causing him considerable distress. His family urged him to sit for the supplementary examination reserved for "unrecognized talents" and pooled ten taels of silver for him.

That night, Yang Dahong dreamt of an immortal who spoke to him, saying, "Ahead on your path resides an extraordinary recluse who can cure your ailment; plead with him earnestly, and he will surely assist you. I leave you these two lines of verse; memorize them well: ‘By the riverside, beneath the willows, three melodies played on the flute; cast them toward the river’s heart, cease your sighs and regrets.’" With these words, the immortal vanished.

Setting out the next day, he indeed found a Daoist sitting beneath a willow tree. Yang Dahong approached and bowed deeply. The Daoist laughed, "You are mistaken; how could I heal you? Playing three tunes for you, perhaps." He produced a flute and began to play softly. Recalling the lines from his dream, Yang Dahong became even more convinced the Daoist was his savior. He implored him with sincerity, then produced the silver he carried and offered it all.

The Daoist accepted the silver, glanced at it not at all, and casually tossed it into the middle of the river. That hard-earned silver, discarded so swiftly, made Yang Dahong acutely regretful, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh. The Daoist remarked, "You begrudge the silver? The silver is right there by the riverbank; go retrieve it yourself." Yang Dahong walked to the edge of the water and, sure enough, found the silver intact. His heart filled with astonishment. He exclaimed, "Daoist Master, are you perhaps an immortal?"

The Daoist pointed vaguely in a direction and stated, "I am no immortal. The immortals are over there; if you don't believe me, look." Yang Dahong opened his eyes to gaze, but saw nothing. The Daoist burst into loud laughter, brought his palm down sharply on Yang Dahong's neck, and said, "You are far too mundane." This single strike instantly dislodged the rice ball from Yang Dahong’s throat, where it fell to the ground, still faintly speckled with traces of blood.

Yang Dahong felt utterly relieved, his malady cured. When he turned to look back, the Daoist had already vanished without a trace.

(Yang Lian, a Jinshi in the thirty-fifth year of Wanli, became a prominent official during the Tianqi era. He was arrested and imprisoned for memorializing against Wei Zhongxian, ultimately dying under torture. His exploits are detailed in Those Things of the Ming Dynasty; those interested may consult that source.)