Twice Told

Documents

Pu Songling, “Shibian” (The corpse that changed), Liaozhai zhiyi, Qingketing edition

Language
Chinese
Read from
juan 13, leaves 11 to 12 (PDF pages 840 to 842 of the Shanghai Library copy)
Reading
transcribed from the page image
Translation
ours
Retrieved
24 September 2026

Pu Songling (1640 to 1715) put his tales of the strange together over many years; his preface is dated 1679. The collection circulated in manuscript until 1766, when the first printed edition, the Qingketing edition in 16 juan, came out. This transcription follows a Qingketing-edition copy in the Shanghai Library, whose title page reads 青柯亭開雕. In this printing “Shibian” is in juan 13.

陽信某翁者，邑之蔡店人。村去城五六里，父子設臨路店，宿行商。有車夫數人，往來負販，輒寓其家。一日昏暮，四人偕來，望門投止，則翁家客宿邸滿。四人計無復之，堅請容納。翁沉吟，思得一所，似恐不當客意。客言：「但求一席廈宇，更不敢有所擇。」時翁有子婦新死，停尸室中，子出購材木未歸。翁以靈所室寂，遂穿衢導客往。

入其廬，燈昏案上；案後有搭帳衣，紙衾覆逝者。又觀寢所，則複室中有連榻。四客奔波頗困，甫就枕，鼻息漸粗。惟一客尚朦朧，忽聞靈牀上察察有聲。急開目，則靈前燈火，照視甚了：女尸已揭衾起，俄而下，漸入臥室。面淡金色，生絹抹額。俯近榻前，徧吹臥客者三。客大懼，恐將及己，潛引被覆首，閉息忍咽以聽之。未幾，女果來，吹之如諸客。覺出房去，即聞紙衾聲。出首微窺，見僵臥猶初矣。

客懼甚，不敢作聲，陰以足踏諸客，而諸客絕無少動。顧念無計，不如著衣以竄。裁起振衣，而察察之聲又作。客懼，復伏，縮首衾中。覺女復來，連續吹數數始去。少間，聞靈牀作響，知其復臥。乃從被底漸漸出手得袴，遽就著之，白足奔出。尸亦起，似將逐客。比其離幃，而客已拔關出矣。尸馳從之。

客且奔且號，村中人無有警者。欲叩主人之門，又恐遲爲所及，遂望邑城路極力竄去。至東郊，瞥見蘭若，聞木魚聲，乃急撾山門。道人訝其非常，又不即納。旋踵，尸已至，去身盈尺。客窘益甚。門外有白楊，圍四五尺許，因以樹自障；彼右則左之，彼左則右之。尸益怒。然各浸倦矣。尸頓立。客汗促氣逆，庇樹間。尸暴起，伸兩臂隔樹探撲之。客驚仆。尸捉之不得，抱樹而僵。

道人竊聽良久，無聲，始漸出，見客臥地上。燭之死，然心下絲絲有動氣。負入，終夜始甦。飲以湯水而問之，客具以狀對。時晨鐘已盡，曉色迷濛，道人覘樹上，果見僵女。大駭，報邑宰。宰親詣質驗。使人拔女手，牢不可開。審諦之，則左右四指並捲如鉤，入木沒甲。又數人力拔，乃得下。視指穴如鑿孔然。遣役探翁家，則以尸亡客斃，紛紛正譁。役告之故。翁乃從往，舁尸歸。客泣告宰曰：「身四人出，今一人歸，此情何以信鄉里？」宰與之牒，齎送以歸。

Translation

An old man of Yangxin county lived at Caidian, a village five or six li from the county town. He and his son kept an inn by the road where travelling traders stayed. Some carters who went back and forth hauling goods always lodged there. One evening at dusk four of them came together, looking for a bed, but every room was full. With nowhere else to go they begged to be taken in. The old man thought it over and came up with one place, though he feared it would not suit them. “All we ask is a roof,” they said. “We won’t be choosy.” Now his son’s wife had just died, and her body lay in a room while his son was out buying wood for the coffin. The room of the dead was quiet, so the old man led them across the lane to it.

In the room a lamp burned low on the table. Behind the table hung a curtain, and a paper shroud covered the dead woman. In the inner room where they were to sleep stood a row of beds. The four were worn out from the road; their heads had barely touched the pillows before they were breathing heavily. Only one was still half awake when he heard a rustling from the bier. He opened his eyes. The lamp in front of the bier lit everything clearly: the woman’s corpse had thrown off the shroud and sat up. A moment later she got down and came slowly into the bedroom. Her face was a pale gold, with a band of raw silk across the forehead. She bent close to the beds and blew on the three sleepers, one after another. The carter, terrified that his turn was coming, pulled the quilt over his head, held his breath and listened. Soon she came and blew on him as on the others. He felt her leave the room, and then he heard the paper shroud rustle. Peeping out, he saw her lying stiff as before.

In his terror he dared not make a sound, but nudged the others with his foot. None of them stirred. He could think of nothing better than to dress and run. As soon as he sat up and shook out his clothes, the rustling began again. He lay back down and hid his head under the quilt. He felt her come again and blow on him several times before she went. A little later he heard the bier creak and knew she was lying down. Then, bit by bit, he reached out from under the quilt, found his trousers, pulled them on and ran out barefoot. The corpse rose too, as if to follow him. By the time she was past the curtain he had unbarred the door and was outside. The corpse came racing after him.

He ran and shouted as he went, but no one in the village woke. He wanted to knock at his host’s door, but feared he would be caught while he waited, so he ran with all his strength along the road to the county town. At the eastern outskirts he caught sight of a temple and heard its wooden fish being struck, and he hammered at the gate. The monk, alarmed at the noise, did not let him in at once. In a moment the corpse was there, barely a foot away. At his wits’ end, the carter saw a white poplar outside the gate, four or five feet round, and put the tree between them: when she went right, he went left; when she went left, he went right. The corpse grew angrier, but both were tiring. She stood still. The carter, sweating and gasping, sheltered behind the tree. Suddenly the corpse lunged, stretching both arms round the tree to seize him. He fell in a faint. The corpse, missing him, clung to the tree and went stiff.

The monk listened for a long time. When all was quiet he crept out and found the carter on the ground. By lamplight he seemed dead, but a faint breath still stirred under his heart. The monk carried him in, and at the end of the night he came round. Given something to drink and asked what had happened, he told the whole story. By then the morning bell had rung and dawn was grey. The monk looked at the tree, and there was the stiff woman. Horrified, he reported it to the magistrate, who came in person to see. He had men pull at her hands, but they held fast. Looking closely, he saw that the four fingers of each hand were curled like hooks and sunk into the wood up to the nails. Several men pulled together before they came free. The holes the fingers left looked as if they had been chiselled. A runner was sent to the old man’s house, where everyone was in an uproar over the missing corpse and the dead guests. The runner explained, and the old man went back with him and carried the body home. The carter wept and told the magistrate: “Four of us set out and one comes back. How will anyone at home believe it?” The magistrate gave him a written statement and sent him home.

Notes

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