AT Lo-tien, in the province of Shantung, there lived a youth named Wang Tzu-fu, who had been left an orphan when quite young. He was a clever boy, and took his bachelor's degree at the age of fourteen, being quite his mother's pet, and not allowed by her to stray far away from home. One young lady to whom he had been betrothed having unhappily died, he was still in search of a wife when, on the occasion of the Feast of Lanterns, his cousin Wu asked him to come along for a stroll. But they had hardly got beyond the village before one of his uncle's servants caught them up and told Wu he was wanted. The latter accordingly went back; but Wang, seeing plenty of nice girls about and being in high spirits himself, proceeded on alone. Amongst others, he noticed a young lady with her maid. She had just picked a sprig of plum-blossom, and was the prettiest girl he had ever heard of a perfect bunch of smiles. He stared and stared at her quite regardless of appearances; and when she had passed by, she said to her maid, "That young fellow has a wicked look in his eyes." As she was walking away, laughing and talking, the flower dropped out of her hand; and Wang, picking it up, stood there disconsolate as if he had lost his wits.
He then went home in a very melancholy mood; and, putting the flower under his pillow, lay down to sleep. He would neither talk nor eat; and his mother became very anxious about him, and called in the aid of the priests. 1 By degrees, he fell off in flesh and got very thin; and the doctor felt his pulse and gave him medicines to bring out the disease. Occasionally, he seemed bewildered in his mind, but in spite of all his mother's inquiries would give no clue as to the cause of his malady. One day when his cousin Wu came to the house, Wang's mother told him to try and find out what was the matter; and the former, approaching the bed, gradually and quietly led up to the point in question. Wang, who had wept bitterly at the sight of his cousin, now repeated to him the whole story, begging him to lend some assistance in the matter. "How foolish you are, cousin," cried Wu; "there will be no difficulty at all, I'll make inquiries for you. The girl herself can't belong to a very aristocratic family to be walking alone in the country. If she's not already engaged, I have no doubt we can arrange the affair; and even if she is unwilling, an extra outlay will easily bring her round. You make haste and get well: I'll see to it all." Wang's features relaxed when he heard these words; and Wu left him to tell his mother how the case stood, immediately setting on foot inquiries as to the whereabouts of the girl. All his efforts, however, proved fruitless, to the great disappointment of Wang's mother; for since his cousin's visit Wang's colour and appetite had returned. In a few days Wu called again, and in answer to Wang's questions falsely told him that the affair was settled. "Who do you think the young lady is?" said he. "Why, a cousin of ours, who is only waiting to be betrothed; and though you two are a little near, I daresay the circumstances of the case will be allowed to overrule this objection." Wang was overjoyed, and asked where she lived; so Wu had to tell another lie, and say, "On the south-west hills, about ten miles from here." Wang begged him again and again to do his best for him, and Wu undertook to get the betrothal satisfactorily arranged. He then took leave of his cousin, who from this moment was rapidly restored to health.
Wang drew the flower from under-neath his pillow, and found that, though dried up, the leaves had not fallen away. He often sat playing with this flower and thinking of the young lady; but by-and-by, as Wu did not reappear, he wrote a letter and asked him to come. Wu pleaded other engagements, being unwilling to go; at which Wang got in a rage and quite lost his good spirits; so that his mother, fearing a relapse, proposed to him a speedy betrothal in another quarter. Wang shook his head at this, and sat day after day waitting for Wu, until his patience was thoroughly exhausted. He then reflected that ten miles was no great distance, and that there was no particular reason for asking anybody's aid; so, concealing the flower in his sleeve, he went off in a huff by himself without letting it be known. Having no opportunity of asking the way, he made straight for the hills; and after about ten miles walking found himself right in the midst of them, enjoying their exquisite verdure, but meeting no one, and with nothing better than mountain paths to guide him. Away down in the valley below, almost buried under a densely luxuriant growth of trees and flowers, he espied a small hamlet, and began to descend the hill and make his way thither. He found very few houses, and all built of rushes, but otherwise pleasant enough to look at. Before the door of one, which stood at the northern end of the village, were a number of graceful willow trees, and inside the wall plenty of peach and apricot trees, with tufts of bamboo between them, and birds chirping on the branches. As it was a private house he did not venture to go in, but sat down to rest himself on a huge smooth stone opposite the front door. By-and-by he heard a girl's voice from within calling out Hsiao-jung; and, noticing that it was a sweet-toned voice, set himself to listen, when a young lady passed with a bunch of apricot-flowers in her hand, and occupied in putting hair-pins into her downcast head. As soon as she raised her face she saw Wang, and stopped putting in hair-pins; then, smothering a laugh, picked a few flowers and ran in. Wang perceived to his intense delight that she was none other than his heroine of the Feast of Lanterns; but recollecting that he had no right to follow her in, was on the point of calling after her as his cousin. There was no one, however, in the street, and he was afraid lest he might have made a mistake; neither was there anybody at the door of whom he could make inquiries. So he remained there in a very restless state till the sun was well down in the west, and his hopes were almost at an end, forgetting all about food and drink. He then saw the young lady peep through the door, apparently very much astonished to find him still there; and in a few minutes out came an old woman leaning on a stick, who said to him, "Whence do you come, Sir? I hear you have been here ever since morning. What is it you want? Aren't you hungry?" Wang got up, and making a bow, replied that he was in search of some relatives of his; but the old woman was deaf and didn't catch what he said, so he had to shout it out again at the top of his voice. She asked him what their names were, but he was unable to tell her; at which she laughed and said, "It is a funny thing to look for people when you don't know their names. I am afraid you are an unpractical gentleman. You had better come in and have something to eat; we'll give you a bed and you can go back tomorrow and find out the names of the people you are in quest of." Now Wang was just beginning to get hungry, and, besides, this would bring him nearer to the young lady; so he readily accepted and followed the old woman in. They walked along a paved path banked on both sides with hibiscus, the leaves of which were scattered about on the ground; and passing through another door, entered a court-yard full of trained creepers and other flowers. The old woman showed Wang into a small room with beautifully white walls and a branch of a crab-apple tree coming through the window, the furniture being also nice and clean. They had hardly sat down when it was clear that some one was taking a peep through the window; whereupon the old woman cried out, "Hsiao-jung! make haste and get dinner," and a maid from outside immediately answered "Yes, ma'am." Meanwhile, Wang had been explaining who he was; and then the old lady said, "Was your maternal grandfather named Wu?" "He was," replied Wang. "Well, I never!" cried the old woman, "he was my uncle, and your mother and I are cousins. But in consequence of our poverty, and having no sons, we have kept quite to ourselves, and you have grown to be a man without my knowing you." "I came here," said Wang, "about my cousin, but in the hurry I forgot your name." "My name is Ch'in," replied the old lady; "I have no son: only a girl, the child of a concubine, who, after my husband's death, married again and left her daughter with me. She's a clever girl, but has had very little education; full of fun and ignorant of the sorrows of life. I'll send for her by-and-by to make your acquaintance."
The maid then brought in the dinner a large dish full of choice morsels of fowl and the old woman pressed him to eat. When they had finished, and the things were taken away, the old woman said, "Call Miss Ning," and the maid went off to do so. After some time there was a giggling at the door, and the old woman cried out, "Ying-ning! your cousin is here." There was then a great tittering as the maid pushed her in, stopping her mouth all the time to try and keep from laughing. "Don't you know better than to behave like that?" asked the old woman, "and before a stranger, too." So Ying-ning controlled her feelings, and Wang made her a bow, the old woman saying, "Mr. Wang is your cousin: you have never seen him before. Isn't that funny?" Wang asked how old his cousin was, but the old woman didn't hear him, and he had to say it again, which sent Ying-ning off into another fit of laughter. "I told you," observed the old woman, "she hadn't much education; now you see it. She is sixteen years old, and as foolish as a baby." "One year younger than I am," remarked Wang. "Oh, you're seventeen are you? Then you were born in the year , under the sign of the horse." Wang nodded assent, and then the old woman asked who his wife was, to which Wang replied that he had none. "What! a clever, handsome young fellow of seventeen not yet engaged? Ying-ning is not engaged either: you two would make a nice pair if it wasn't for the relationship." Wang said nothing, but looked hard at his cousin; and just then the maid whispered to her, "It is the fellow with the wicked eyes! He's at his old game." Ying-ning laughed, and proposed to the maid that they should go and see if the peaches were in blossom or not; and off they went together, the former with her sleeve stuffed into her mouth until she got outside, where she burst into a hearty fit of laughing. The old woman gave orders for a bed to be got ready for Wang, saying to him, "It's not often we meet: you must spend a few days with us now you are here, and then we'll send you home. If you are at all dull, there's a garden behind where you can amuse yourself, and books for you to read." So next day Wang strolled into the garden, which was of moderate size, with a well-kept lawn and plenty of trees and flowers. There was also an arbour consisting of three posts with a thatched roof, quite shut in on all sides by the luxurious vegetation. Pushing his way among the flowers, Wang heard a noise from one of the trees, and looking up saw Ying-ning, who at once burst out laughing and nearly fell down. "Don't! don't!" cried Wang, "you'll fall!" Then Ying-ning came down, giggling all the time, until, when she was near the ground, she missed her hold, and tumbled down with a run. This stopped her merriment, and Wang picked her up, gently squeezing her hand as he did so. Ying-ning began laughing again, and was obliged to lean against a tree for support, it being some time before she was able to stop. Wang waited till she had finished, and then drew the flower out of his sleeve and handed it to her. "It's dead," said she; "why do you keep it?" "You dropped it, cousin, at the Feast of Lanterns," replied Wang, "and so I kept it." She then asked him what was his object in keeping it, to which he answered, "To show my love, and that I have not forgotten you. Since that day when we met, I have been very ill from thinking so much of you, and am quite changed from what I was. But now that it is my unexpected good fortune to meet you, I pray you have pity on me." "You needn't make such a fuss about a trifle," replied she, "and with your own relatives, too. I'll give orders to supply you with a whole basketful of flowers when you go away." Wang told her she did not understand, and when she asked what it was she didn't understand, he said, "I didn't care for the flower itself; it was the person who picked the flower." "Of course," answered she, "everybody cares for their relations; you needn't have told me that." "I wasn't talking about ordinary relations," said Wang, "but about husbands and wives." "What's the difference?" asked Ying-ning. "Why," replied Wang, "husband and wife are always together." "Just what I shouldn't like," cried she, "to be always with anybody." At this juncture up came the maid, and Wang slipped quietly away. By-and-by they all met again in the house, and the old woman asked Ying-ning where they had been; whereupon she said they had been talking in the garden. "Dinner has been ready a long time. I can't think what you have had to say all this while," grumbled the old woman. "My cousin," answered Ying-ning, "has been talking to me about husbands and wives." Wang was much disconcerted, and made a sign to her to be quiet, so she smiled and said no more; and the old woman luckily did not catch her words, and asked her to repeat them. Wang immediately put her off with something else, and whispered to Ying-ning that she had done very wrong. The latter did not see that; and when Wang told her that what he had said was private, answered him that she had no secrets from her old mother. "Besides," added she, "what harm can there be in talking on such a common topic as husbands and wives?" Wang was angry with her for being so dull, but there was no help for it; and by the time dinner was over he found some of his mother's servants had come in search of him, bringing a couple of donkeys with them.
It appeared that his mother, alarmed at his non-appearance, had made strict search for him in the village; and when unable to discover any traces of him, had gone off to the Wu family to consult. There her nephew, who recollected what he had previously said to young Wang, advised that a search should be instituted in the direction of the hills; and accordingly the servants had been to all the villages on the way until they had at length recognised him as he was coming out of the door. Wang went in and told the old woman, begging that he might be allowed to take Ying-ning with him. "I have had the idea in my head for several days," replied the old woman, overjoyed; "but I am a feeble old thing myself, and couldn't travel so far. If, however, you will take charge of my girl and introduce her to her aunt, I shall be very pleased." So she called Ying-ning, who came up laughing as usual; whereupon the old woman rebuked her, saying, "What makes you always laugh so? You would be a very good girl but for that silly habit. Now, here's your cousin, who wants to take you away with him. Make haste and pack up." The servants who had come for Wang were then provided with refreshment, and the old woman bade them both farewell, telling Ying-ning that her aunt was quite well enough off to maintain her, and that she had better not come back. She also advised her not to neglect her studies, and to be very attentive to her elders, adding that she might ask her aunt to provide her with a good husband. Wang and Ying-ning then took their leave; and when they reached the brow of the hill, they looked back and could just discern the old woman leaning against the door and gazing towards the north.
On arriving at Wang's home, his mother, seeing a nice-looking young girl with him, asked in astonishment who she might be; and Wang at once told her the whole story. "But that was all an invention of your cousin Wu's," cried his mother; "I haven't got a sister, and consequently I can't have such a niece." Ying-ning here observed, "I am not the daughter of the old woman; my father was named Ch'in and died when I was a little baby, so that I can't remember anything." "I had a sister," said Wang's mother, "who actually did marry a Mr. Ch'in, but she died many years ago, and can't be still living, of course." However, on inquiring as to facial appearance and characteristic marks, Wang's mother was obliged to acknowledge the identity, wondering at the same time how her sister could be alive when she had died many years before. Just then in came Wu, and Ying-ning retired within; and when he heard the story, remained some time lost in astonishment, and then said, "Is this young lady's name Ying-ning?" Wang replied that it was, and asked Wu how he came to know it. "Mr. Ch'in," answered he, "after his wife's death was bewitched by a fox, and subsequently died. The fox had a daughter named Ying-ning, as was well known to all the family; and when Mr. Ch'in died, as the fox still frequented the place, the Taoist Pope was called in to exorcise it. The fox then went away, taking Ying-ning with it, and now here she is." While they were thus discussing, peals of laughter were heard coming from within, and Mrs. Wang took occasion to remark what a foolish girl she was. Wu begged to be introduced, and Mrs. Wang went in to fetch her, finding her in an uncontrollable fit of laughter, which she subdued only with great difficulty, and by turning her face to the wall. By-and-by she went out; but, after making a bow, ran back and burst out laughing again to the great discomfiture of all the ladies. Wang then said he would go and find out for them all about Ying-ning and her queer story, so as to be able to arrange the marriage; but when he reached the spot indicated, village and houses had all vanished, and nothing was to be seen except hill-flowers scattered about here and there. Wu recollected that Mrs. Ch'in had been buried at no great distance from that spot; he found, however, that the grave had disappeared, and he was no longer able to determine its position. Not knowing what to make of it all, he returned home, and then Mrs. Wang told him she thought the girl must be a disembodied spirit. Ying-ning shewed no signs of alarm at this remark; neither did she cry at all when Mrs. Wang began to condole with her on no longer having a home. She only laughed in her usual silly way, and fairly puzzled them all. Sharing Miss Wang's room, she now began to take her part in the duties of a daughter of the family; and as for needlework, they had rarely seen anything like hers for fineness. But she could not get over that trick of laughing, which, by the way, never interfered with her good looks, and consequently rather amused people than otherwise, amongst others a young married lady who lived next door. Wang's mother fixed an auspicious day for the wedding, but still feeling suspicious about Ying-ning, was always secretly watching her. Finding, however, that she had a proper shadow, and that there was nothing extraordinary in her behaviour, she had her dressed up when the day came, in all the finery of a bride; and would have made her perform the usual ceremonies, only Ying-ning laughed so much she was unable to kneel down. They were accordingly obliged to excuse her, but Wang began to fear that such a foolish girl would never be able to keep the family counsel. Luckily, she was very reticent and did not indulge in gossip; and moreover, when Mrs. Wang was in trouble or out of temper, Ying-ning could always bring her round with a laugh. The maid-servants, too, if they expected a whipping for anything, would always ask her to be present when they appeared before their mistress, and thus they often escaped punishment. Ying-ning had a perfect passion for flowers. She got all she could out of her relations, and even secretly pawned her jewels to buy rare specimens; and by the end of a few months the whole place was one mass of flowers.
Behind the house there was one especial tree which belonged to the neighbours on that side; but Ying-ning was always climbing up and picking the flowers, for which Mrs. Wang rebuked her severely, though without any result. One day the owner saw her, and gazed at her some time in rapt astonishment; however, she didn't move, deigning only to laugh. The gentleman was much smitten with her; and when she smilingly descended the wall on her own side, pointing all the time with her finger to a spot hard by, he thought she was making an assignation. So he presented himself at nightfall at the same place, and sure enough Ying-ning was there. Seizing her hand, to tell his passion, he found that he was grasping only a log of wood which stood against the wall; and the next thing he knew was that a scorpion had stung him violently on the finger. There was an end of his romance, except that he died of the wound during the night, and his family at once commenced an action against Wang for having a witch-wife. The magistrate happened to be a great admirer of Wang's talent, and knew him to be an accomplished scholar; he therefore refused to grant the summons, and ordered the prosecutor to be bambooed for false accusation. Wang interposed and got him off this punishment, and returned home himself. His mother then scolded Ying-ning well, saying, "I knew your too playful disposition would some day bring sorrow upon you. But for our intelligent magistrate we should have been in a nice mess. Any ordinary hawk-like official would have had you publicly interrogated in court; and then how could your husband ever have held up his head again?" Ying-ning looked grave and did not laugh this time; and Mrs. Wang continued, "There's no harm in laughing as long as it is seasonable laughter; "but from that moment Ying-ning laughed no more, no matter what people did to make her, though at the same time her expression was by no means gloomy.
One evening she went in tears to her husband, who wanted to know what was the matter. "I couldn't tell you before," said she, sobbing; "we had known each other such a short time. But now that you and your mother have been so kind to me, I will keep nothing from you, but tell you all. I am the daughter of a fox. When my mother went away she put me in the charge of the disembodied spirit of an old woman, with whom I remained for a period of over ten years. I have no brothers: only you to whom I can look. And now my foster-mother is lying on the hill-side with no one to bury her and appease her discontented shade. If not too much, I would ask you to do this, that her spirit may be at rest, and know that it was not neglected by her whom she brought up." Wang consented, but said he feared they would not be able to find her grave; on which Ying-ning said there was no danger of that, and accordingly they set forth together. When they arrived, Ying-ning pointed out the tomb in a lonely spot amidst a thicket of brambles, and there they found the old woman's bones. Ying-ning wept bitterly, and then they proceeded to carry her remains home with them, subsequently interring them in the Ch'in family vault. That night Wang dreamt that the old woman came to thank him, and when he waked he told Ying-ning, who said that she had seen her also, and had been warned by her not to frighten Mr. Wang. Her husband asked why she had not detained the old lady; but Ying-ning replied, "She is a disembodied spirit, and would be ill at ease for any time surrounded by so much life." Wang then enquired after Hsiao-jung, and his wife said, "She was a fox too, and a very clever one. My foster-mother kept her to wait on me, and she was always getting fruit and cakes for me, so that I have a friendship for her and shall never forget her. My foster-mother told me yesterday she was married."
After this, whenever the great fast-day came round, husband and wife went off without fail to worship at the Ch'in family tomb; and by the time a year had passed she gave birth to a son, who wasn't a bit afraid of strangers, but laughed at everybody, and in fact took very much after his mother.
生拾花悵然，神魂喪失，怏怏遂返。至家，藏花枕底，垂頭而睡。不語亦不食。母懮之。醮禳益劇，肌革銳減。醫師診視，投劑發表，忽忽若迷。母撫問所由，默然不答。適吳生來，囑密詰之。吳至榻前，生見之小下。吳就榻慰解，漸致研詰。生具吐其實，且求謀畫。吳笑曰：「君意亦復痴！此願有何難遂？當代訪之。徒步于野，必非世家。如其未字，事固諧矣；不然，拚以重賂，計必允遂。但得痊瘳，成事在我。」生聞之，不覺解頤。吳出告母，物色女子居里，而近代訪既窮，並無蹤緒。母大懮，無所為計。然自吳去後，顏頓開，食亦略進。數日，吳復來。生問所謀，吳紿之曰：「已得之矣。我以為誰何人，乃我姑氏子，即君姨妹行，今尚待聘。雖內戚有婚姻之嫌，實告之，無不諧者。」生喜溢眉宇，問：「居何裡？」吳詭曰：「西南山中，去此可三十餘裡。」生又付囑再四，吳銳身自任而去。
生由是飲食漸加，日就平復。探視枕底，花雖柘，未便雕落。凝思把玩，如見其人。怪吳不至，折柬招之。吳支托不肯赴招。生恚怒，悒悒不歡。母慮其復病，急為議姻。略與商榷，輒搖首不願，惟日盼吳。吳迄無耗，益怨恨之。轉思三十里非遙，何必仰息他人？懷梅袖中，負氣自往，而家人不知也。伶仃獨步，無可問程，但望南山行去。約三十餘裡，亂山合沓，空翠爽肌，寂無人行，止有鳥道。遙望谷底，叢花亂樹中，隱隱有小裡落。下山入村，見舍宇無多，皆茅屋，而意甚修雅。北向一家，門前皆絲柳，牆內桃杏尤繁，間以修竹；野鳥格磔其中。意其園亭，不敢遽入。回顧對戶，有巨石滑潔，因據坐少憩。俄聞牆內有女子，長呼「小榮」，其聲嬌細。方佇聽間，一女郎由東而西，執杏花一朵，俯首自簪。舉頭見生，遂不復簪，含笑拈花而入。審視之，即上元途中所遇也。心驟喜。但念無以階進；欲呼姨氏，顧從無還往，懼有訛誤。門內無人可問。坐臥徘徊，自朝至於日昃，盈盈望斷，並忘飢渴。時見女子露半面來窺，似訝其不去者。忽一老媼扶杖出，顧生曰：「何處郎君，聞自辰刻便來，以至於今。意將何為？得勿飢耶？」生急起揖之，答雲：「將以盼親。」媼聾聵不聞。又大言之。乃問：「貴戚何姓？」生不能答。媼笑曰：「奇哉！姓名尚自不知，何親可探？我視郎君，亦書痴耳。不如從我來，啖以粗糲，家有短榻可臥。待明朝歸，詢知姓氏，再來探訪，不晚也。」生方腹餒思啖，又從此漸近麗人，大喜。從媼入，見門內白石砌路，夾道紅花，片片墮階上；曲折而西，又啟一關，豆棚花架滿庭中。肅客入舍，粉壁光明如鏡；窗外海棠枝朵，探入室中；裀藉幾榻，罔不潔澤。甫坐，即有人自窗外隱約相窺。媼喚：「小榮！可速作黍。」外有婢子噭聲而應。坐次，具展宗閥。媼曰：「郎君外祖，莫姓吳否？」曰：「然。」媼驚曰：「是吾甥也！尊堂，我妹子。年來以家窶貧，又無三尺男，遂至音問梗塞。甥長成如許，尚不相識。」生曰：「此來即為姨也，匆遽遂忘姓氏。」媼曰：「老身秦姓，並無誕育；弱息僅存，亦為庶產。渠母改醮，遺我鞠養。頗亦不鈍，但少教訓，嬉不知悉。少頃，使來拜識。」
未幾，婢子具飯，雛尾盈握。媼勸餐已，婢來斂具。媼曰：「喚寧姑來。」婢應去。良久，聞戶外隱有笑聲。媼又喚曰：「嬰寧，汝姨兄在此。」戶外嗤嗤笑不已。婢推之以入，猶掩其口，笑不可遏。媼嗔目曰：「有客在，吒吒叱叱，是何景象？」女忍笑而立，生揖之。媼曰：「此王郎，汝姨子。一家尚不相識，可笑人也。」生問：「妹子年幾何矣？」媼未能解。生又言之。女復笑，不可仰視。媼謂生曰：「我言少教誨，此可見矣。年已十六，呆痴裁如嬰兒。」生曰：「小於甥一歲。」曰：「阿甥已十七矣，得非庚午屬馬者耶？」生首應之。又問：「甥婦阿誰？」答雲：「無之。」曰：「如甥才貌，何十七歲猶未聘？嬰寧亦無姑家，極相匹敵；惜有內親之嫌。」生無語，目注嬰寧，不遑他瞬。婢向女小語雲：「目灼灼，賊腔未改！」女又大笑，顧婢曰：「視碧桃開未？」遽起，以袖掩口，細碎連步而出。至門外，笑聲始縱。媼亦起，喚婢襆被，為生安置。曰：「阿甥來不易，宜留三五日，遲遲送汝歸。如嫌幽悶，舍後有小園，可供消遣；有書可讀。」次日，至舍後，果有園半畝，細草鋪氈，楊花糝徑；有草舍三楹，花木四合其所。穿花小步，聞樹頭囌囌有聲，仰視，則嬰寧在上。見生來，狂笑欲墮。生曰：「勿爾，墮矣！」女且下且笑，不能自止。方將及地，失手而墮，笑乃止。生扶之，陰捘其腕。女笑又作，倚樹不能行，良久乃罷。生俟其笑歇，乃出袖中花示之。女接之，曰：「枯矣。何留之？」曰：「此上元妹子所遺，故存之。」問：「存之何意？」曰：「以示相愛不忘也。自上元相遇，凝思成病，自分化為異物；不圖得見顏色，幸垂憐憫。」女曰：「此大細事。至戚何所靳惜？待郎行時，園中花，當喚老奴來，折一巨捆負送之。」生曰：「妹子痴耶？」女曰：「何便是痴？」生曰：「我非愛花，愛拈花之人耳。」女曰：「葭莩之情，愛何待言。」生曰：「我所謂愛，非瓜葛之愛，乃夫妻之愛。」女曰：「有以異乎？」曰：「夜共枕蓆耳。」女俯思良久，曰：「我不慣與生人睡。」語未已，婢潛至，生惶恐遁去。少時，會母所。母問：「何往？」女答以園中共話。媼曰：「飯熟已久，有何長言，周遮乃爾。」女曰：「大哥欲我共寢。」言未已，生大窘，急目瞪之。女微笑而止。幸媼不聞，猶絮絮究詰。生急以他詞掩之，因小語責女。女曰：「適此語不應說耶？」生曰：「此背人語。」女曰：「背他人，豈得背老母。且寢處亦常事，何諱之？」生恨其痴，無術可以悟之。食方竟，家中人捉雙衛來尋生。
先是，母待生久不歸，始疑；村中搜覓幾遍，竟無蹤兆。因往詢吳。吳憶曩言，因教于西南山村行覓。凡曆數村，始至於此。生出門，適相值，便入告媼，且請偕女同歸。媼喜曰：「我有志，匪伊朝夕。但殘軀不能遠涉，得甥攜妹子去，識認阿姨，大好！」呼嬰寧。寧笑至。媼曰：「有何喜，笑輒不輟？若不笑，當為全人。」因怒之以目。乃曰：「大哥欲同汝去，可便裝束。」又餉家人酒食，始送之出曰：「姨家田產豐裕，能養冗人。到彼且勿歸，小學詩禮，亦好事翁姑。即煩阿姨，為汝擇一良匹。」二人遂發。至山坳，回顧，猶依稀見媼倚門北望也。
抵家，母睹姝麗，驚問為誰。生以姨女對。母曰：「前吳郎與兒言者，詐也。我未有姊，何以得甥？」問女，女曰：「我非母出。父為秦氏，沒時，兒在褓中，不能記憶。」母曰：「我一姊適秦氏，良確，然殂謝已久，那得復存？」因審詰面龐﹑志贅，一一符合。又疑曰：「是矣。然亡已多年，何得復存？」疑慮間，吳生至，女避入室。吳詢得故，惘然久之。忽曰：「此女名嬰寧耶？」生然之。吳亟稱怪事。問所自知，吳曰：「秦家姑去世後，姑丈鰥居，祟于狐，病瘠死。狐生女名嬰寧，繃臥床上，家人皆見之。姑丈沒，狐猶時來；後求天師符粘壁上，狐遂攜女去。將勿此耶？」彼此疑參。但聞室中吃吃皆嬰寧笑聲。母曰：「此女亦太憨生。」吳請面之。母入室，女猶濃笑不顧。母促令出，始極力忍笑，又面壁移時，方出。才一展拜，翻然遽入，放聲大笑。滿室婦女，為之粲然。吳請往覘其異，就便執柯。尋至村所，廬舍全無，山花零落而已。吳憶姑葬處，仿彿不遠；然墳壠湮沒，莫可辨識，詫嘆而返。母疑其為鬼。入告吳言，女略無駭意；又吊其無家，亦殊無悲意，孜孜憨笑而已。眾莫之測。母令與少女同寢止。昧爽即來省問，操女紅精巧絕倫。但善笑，禁之亦不可止；然笑處嫣然，狂而不損其媚，人皆樂之。鄰女少婦，爭承迎之。母擇吉將為合巹，而終恐為鬼物。竊于日中窺之，形影殊無少異。至日，使華裝行新婦禮；女笑極不能俯仰，遂罷。生以其憨痴，恐泄漏房中隱事；而女殊密秘，不肯道一語。每值母懮怒，女至，一笑即解。奴婢小過，恐遭鞭楚，輒求詣母共話；罪婢投見，恆得免。而愛花成癖，物色遍戚黨；竊典金釵，購佳種，數月，階砌藩溷，無非花者。
庭後有木香一架，故鄰西家。女每攀登其上，摘供簪玩。母時遇見，輒訶之。女卒不改。一日，西人子見之，凝注傾倒。女不避而笑。西人子謂女意已屬，心益蕩。女指牆底笑而下，西人子謂示約處，大悅。及昏而往，女果在焉。就而淫之，則陰如錐刺，痛徹于心，大號而踣。細視非女，則一枯木臥牆邊，所接乃水淋竅也。鄰父聞聲，急奔研問，呻而不言。妻來，始以實告。爇火燭竅，見中有巨蠍，如小蟹然。翁碎木捉殺之。負子至家，半夜尋卒。鄰人訟生，訐發嬰寧妖異。邑宰素仰生才，稔知其篤行士，謂鄰翁訟誣，將杖責之。生為乞免，遂釋而出。母謂女曰：「憨狂爾爾，早知過喜而伏懮也。邑令神明，幸不牽累；設鶻突官宰，必逮婦女質公堂，我兒何顏見戚裡？」女正色，矢不復笑。母曰：「人罔不笑，但須有時。」而女由是竟不復笑，雖故逗，亦終不笑；然竟日未嘗有戚容。
一夕，對生零涕。異之，女哽咽曰：「曩以相從日淺，言之恐致駭怪。今日察姑及郎，皆過愛無有異心，直告或無妨乎？妾本狐產。母臨去，以妾托鬼母，相依十餘年，始有今日。妾又無兄弟，所恃者惟君。老母岑寂山阿，無人憐而合厝之，九泉輒為悼恨。君倘不惜煩費，使地下人消此怨恫，庶養女者不妨溺棄。」生諾之，然慮墳塚迷于荒草。女但言無慮。刻日，夫妻輿櫬而往。女于荒煙錯楚中，指示墓處，果得媼尸，膚革猶存。女撫哭哀痛。舁歸，尋秦氏墓合葬焉。是夜，生夢媼來稱謝，寤而述之。女曰：「妾夜見之，囑勿驚郎君耳。」生恨不邀留。女曰：「彼鬼也。生人多，陽氣勝，何能久居？」生問小榮，曰：「是亦狐，最黠。狐母留以視妾，每攝餌相哺，故德之常不去心。昨問母，雲已嫁之。」由是歲值寒食，夫妻登秦墓，拜掃無缺。女逾年，生一子。在懷抱中，不畏生人，見人輒笑，亦大有母風雲。
異史氏曰：「觀其孜孜憨笑，似全無心肝者；而牆下惡作劇，其黠孰甚焉。至淒戀鬼母，反笑為哭，我嬰寧殆隱于笑者矣。竊聞山中有草，名「笑矣乎」。嗅之，則笑不可止。房中植此一種，則合歡﹑忘懮，並無顏色矣。若解語花，正嫌其作態耳。」
He then went home in a very melancholy mood; and, putting the flower under his pillow, lay down to sleep. He would neither talk nor eat; and his mother became very anxious about him, and called in the aid of the priests. 1 By degrees, he fell off in flesh and got very thin; and the doctor felt his pulse and gave him medicines to bring out the disease. Occasionally, he seemed bewildered in his mind, but in spite of all his mother's inquiries would give no clue as to the cause of his malady. One day when his cousin Wu came to the house, Wang's mother told him to try and find out what was the matter; and the former, approaching the bed, gradually and quietly led up to the point in question. Wang, who had wept bitterly at the sight of his cousin, now repeated to him the whole story, begging him to lend some assistance in the matter. "How foolish you are, cousin," cried Wu; "there will be no difficulty at all, I'll make inquiries for you. The girl herself can't belong to a very aristocratic family to be walking alone in the country. If she's not already engaged, I have no doubt we can arrange the affair; and even if she is unwilling, an extra outlay will easily bring her round. You make haste and get well: I'll see to it all." Wang's features relaxed when he heard these words; and Wu left him to tell his mother how the case stood, immediately setting on foot inquiries as to the whereabouts of the girl. All his efforts, however, proved fruitless, to the great disappointment of Wang's mother; for since his cousin's visit Wang's colour and appetite had returned. In a few days Wu called again, and in answer to Wang's questions falsely told him that the affair was settled. "Who do you think the young lady is?" said he. "Why, a cousin of ours, who is only waiting to be betrothed; and though you two are a little near, I daresay the circumstances of the case will be allowed to overrule this objection." Wang was overjoyed, and asked where she lived; so Wu had to tell another lie, and say, "On the south-west hills, about ten miles from here." Wang begged him again and again to do his best for him, and Wu undertook to get the betrothal satisfactorily arranged. He then took leave of his cousin, who from this moment was rapidly restored to health.
Wang drew the flower from under-neath his pillow, and found that, though dried up, the leaves had not fallen away. He often sat playing with this flower and thinking of the young lady; but by-and-by, as Wu did not reappear, he wrote a letter and asked him to come. Wu pleaded other engagements, being unwilling to go; at which Wang got in a rage and quite lost his good spirits; so that his mother, fearing a relapse, proposed to him a speedy betrothal in another quarter. Wang shook his head at this, and sat day after day waitting for Wu, until his patience was thoroughly exhausted. He then reflected that ten miles was no great distance, and that there was no particular reason for asking anybody's aid; so, concealing the flower in his sleeve, he went off in a huff by himself without letting it be known. Having no opportunity of asking the way, he made straight for the hills; and after about ten miles walking found himself right in the midst of them, enjoying their exquisite verdure, but meeting no one, and with nothing better than mountain paths to guide him. Away down in the valley below, almost buried under a densely luxuriant growth of trees and flowers, he espied a small hamlet, and began to descend the hill and make his way thither. He found very few houses, and all built of rushes, but otherwise pleasant enough to look at. Before the door of one, which stood at the northern end of the village, were a number of graceful willow trees, and inside the wall plenty of peach and apricot trees, with tufts of bamboo between them, and birds chirping on the branches. As it was a private house he did not venture to go in, but sat down to rest himself on a huge smooth stone opposite the front door. By-and-by he heard a girl's voice from within calling out Hsiao-jung; and, noticing that it was a sweet-toned voice, set himself to listen, when a young lady passed with a bunch of apricot-flowers in her hand, and occupied in putting hair-pins into her downcast head. As soon as she raised her face she saw Wang, and stopped putting in hair-pins; then, smothering a laugh, picked a few flowers and ran in. Wang perceived to his intense delight that she was none other than his heroine of the Feast of Lanterns; but recollecting that he had no right to follow her in, was on the point of calling after her as his cousin. There was no one, however, in the street, and he was afraid lest he might have made a mistake; neither was there anybody at the door of whom he could make inquiries. So he remained there in a very restless state till the sun was well down in the west, and his hopes were almost at an end, forgetting all about food and drink. He then saw the young lady peep through the door, apparently very much astonished to find him still there; and in a few minutes out came an old woman leaning on a stick, who said to him, "Whence do you come, Sir? I hear you have been here ever since morning. What is it you want? Aren't you hungry?" Wang got up, and making a bow, replied that he was in search of some relatives of his; but the old woman was deaf and didn't catch what he said, so he had to shout it out again at the top of his voice. She asked him what their names were, but he was unable to tell her; at which she laughed and said, "It is a funny thing to look for people when you don't know their names. I am afraid you are an unpractical gentleman. You had better come in and have something to eat; we'll give you a bed and you can go back tomorrow and find out the names of the people you are in quest of." Now Wang was just beginning to get hungry, and, besides, this would bring him nearer to the young lady; so he readily accepted and followed the old woman in. They walked along a paved path banked on both sides with hibiscus, the leaves of which were scattered about on the ground; and passing through another door, entered a court-yard full of trained creepers and other flowers. The old woman showed Wang into a small room with beautifully white walls and a branch of a crab-apple tree coming through the window, the furniture being also nice and clean. They had hardly sat down when it was clear that some one was taking a peep through the window; whereupon the old woman cried out, "Hsiao-jung! make haste and get dinner," and a maid from outside immediately answered "Yes, ma'am." Meanwhile, Wang had been explaining who he was; and then the old lady said, "Was your maternal grandfather named Wu?" "He was," replied Wang. "Well, I never!" cried the old woman, "he was my uncle, and your mother and I are cousins. But in consequence of our poverty, and having no sons, we have kept quite to ourselves, and you have grown to be a man without my knowing you." "I came here," said Wang, "about my cousin, but in the hurry I forgot your name." "My name is Ch'in," replied the old lady; "I have no son: only a girl, the child of a concubine, who, after my husband's death, married again and left her daughter with me. She's a clever girl, but has had very little education; full of fun and ignorant of the sorrows of life. I'll send for her by-and-by to make your acquaintance."
The maid then brought in the dinner a large dish full of choice morsels of fowl and the old woman pressed him to eat. When they had finished, and the things were taken away, the old woman said, "Call Miss Ning," and the maid went off to do so. After some time there was a giggling at the door, and the old woman cried out, "Ying-ning! your cousin is here." There was then a great tittering as the maid pushed her in, stopping her mouth all the time to try and keep from laughing. "Don't you know better than to behave like that?" asked the old woman, "and before a stranger, too." So Ying-ning controlled her feelings, and Wang made her a bow, the old woman saying, "Mr. Wang is your cousin: you have never seen him before. Isn't that funny?" Wang asked how old his cousin was, but the old woman didn't hear him, and he had to say it again, which sent Ying-ning off into another fit of laughter. "I told you," observed the old woman, "she hadn't much education; now you see it. She is sixteen years old, and as foolish as a baby." "One year younger than I am," remarked Wang. "Oh, you're seventeen are you? Then you were born in the year , under the sign of the horse." Wang nodded assent, and then the old woman asked who his wife was, to which Wang replied that he had none. "What! a clever, handsome young fellow of seventeen not yet engaged? Ying-ning is not engaged either: you two would make a nice pair if it wasn't for the relationship." Wang said nothing, but looked hard at his cousin; and just then the maid whispered to her, "It is the fellow with the wicked eyes! He's at his old game." Ying-ning laughed, and proposed to the maid that they should go and see if the peaches were in blossom or not; and off they went together, the former with her sleeve stuffed into her mouth until she got outside, where she burst into a hearty fit of laughing. The old woman gave orders for a bed to be got ready for Wang, saying to him, "It's not often we meet: you must spend a few days with us now you are here, and then we'll send you home. If you are at all dull, there's a garden behind where you can amuse yourself, and books for you to read." So next day Wang strolled into the garden, which was of moderate size, with a well-kept lawn and plenty of trees and flowers. There was also an arbour consisting of three posts with a thatched roof, quite shut in on all sides by the luxurious vegetation. Pushing his way among the flowers, Wang heard a noise from one of the trees, and looking up saw Ying-ning, who at once burst out laughing and nearly fell down. "Don't! don't!" cried Wang, "you'll fall!" Then Ying-ning came down, giggling all the time, until, when she was near the ground, she missed her hold, and tumbled down with a run. This stopped her merriment, and Wang picked her up, gently squeezing her hand as he did so. Ying-ning began laughing again, and was obliged to lean against a tree for support, it being some time before she was able to stop. Wang waited till she had finished, and then drew the flower out of his sleeve and handed it to her. "It's dead," said she; "why do you keep it?" "You dropped it, cousin, at the Feast of Lanterns," replied Wang, "and so I kept it." She then asked him what was his object in keeping it, to which he answered, "To show my love, and that I have not forgotten you. Since that day when we met, I have been very ill from thinking so much of you, and am quite changed from what I was. But now that it is my unexpected good fortune to meet you, I pray you have pity on me." "You needn't make such a fuss about a trifle," replied she, "and with your own relatives, too. I'll give orders to supply you with a whole basketful of flowers when you go away." Wang told her she did not understand, and when she asked what it was she didn't understand, he said, "I didn't care for the flower itself; it was the person who picked the flower." "Of course," answered she, "everybody cares for their relations; you needn't have told me that." "I wasn't talking about ordinary relations," said Wang, "but about husbands and wives." "What's the difference?" asked Ying-ning. "Why," replied Wang, "husband and wife are always together." "Just what I shouldn't like," cried she, "to be always with anybody." At this juncture up came the maid, and Wang slipped quietly away. By-and-by they all met again in the house, and the old woman asked Ying-ning where they had been; whereupon she said they had been talking in the garden. "Dinner has been ready a long time. I can't think what you have had to say all this while," grumbled the old woman. "My cousin," answered Ying-ning, "has been talking to me about husbands and wives." Wang was much disconcerted, and made a sign to her to be quiet, so she smiled and said no more; and the old woman luckily did not catch her words, and asked her to repeat them. Wang immediately put her off with something else, and whispered to Ying-ning that she had done very wrong. The latter did not see that; and when Wang told her that what he had said was private, answered him that she had no secrets from her old mother. "Besides," added she, "what harm can there be in talking on such a common topic as husbands and wives?" Wang was angry with her for being so dull, but there was no help for it; and by the time dinner was over he found some of his mother's servants had come in search of him, bringing a couple of donkeys with them.
It appeared that his mother, alarmed at his non-appearance, had made strict search for him in the village; and when unable to discover any traces of him, had gone off to the Wu family to consult. There her nephew, who recollected what he had previously said to young Wang, advised that a search should be instituted in the direction of the hills; and accordingly the servants had been to all the villages on the way until they had at length recognised him as he was coming out of the door. Wang went in and told the old woman, begging that he might be allowed to take Ying-ning with him. "I have had the idea in my head for several days," replied the old woman, overjoyed; "but I am a feeble old thing myself, and couldn't travel so far. If, however, you will take charge of my girl and introduce her to her aunt, I shall be very pleased." So she called Ying-ning, who came up laughing as usual; whereupon the old woman rebuked her, saying, "What makes you always laugh so? You would be a very good girl but for that silly habit. Now, here's your cousin, who wants to take you away with him. Make haste and pack up." The servants who had come for Wang were then provided with refreshment, and the old woman bade them both farewell, telling Ying-ning that her aunt was quite well enough off to maintain her, and that she had better not come back. She also advised her not to neglect her studies, and to be very attentive to her elders, adding that she might ask her aunt to provide her with a good husband. Wang and Ying-ning then took their leave; and when they reached the brow of the hill, they looked back and could just discern the old woman leaning against the door and gazing towards the north.
On arriving at Wang's home, his mother, seeing a nice-looking young girl with him, asked in astonishment who she might be; and Wang at once told her the whole story. "But that was all an invention of your cousin Wu's," cried his mother; "I haven't got a sister, and consequently I can't have such a niece." Ying-ning here observed, "I am not the daughter of the old woman; my father was named Ch'in and died when I was a little baby, so that I can't remember anything." "I had a sister," said Wang's mother, "who actually did marry a Mr. Ch'in, but she died many years ago, and can't be still living, of course." However, on inquiring as to facial appearance and characteristic marks, Wang's mother was obliged to acknowledge the identity, wondering at the same time how her sister could be alive when she had died many years before. Just then in came Wu, and Ying-ning retired within; and when he heard the story, remained some time lost in astonishment, and then said, "Is this young lady's name Ying-ning?" Wang replied that it was, and asked Wu how he came to know it. "Mr. Ch'in," answered he, "after his wife's death was bewitched by a fox, and subsequently died. The fox had a daughter named Ying-ning, as was well known to all the family; and when Mr. Ch'in died, as the fox still frequented the place, the Taoist Pope was called in to exorcise it. The fox then went away, taking Ying-ning with it, and now here she is." While they were thus discussing, peals of laughter were heard coming from within, and Mrs. Wang took occasion to remark what a foolish girl she was. Wu begged to be introduced, and Mrs. Wang went in to fetch her, finding her in an uncontrollable fit of laughter, which she subdued only with great difficulty, and by turning her face to the wall. By-and-by she went out; but, after making a bow, ran back and burst out laughing again to the great discomfiture of all the ladies. Wang then said he would go and find out for them all about Ying-ning and her queer story, so as to be able to arrange the marriage; but when he reached the spot indicated, village and houses had all vanished, and nothing was to be seen except hill-flowers scattered about here and there. Wu recollected that Mrs. Ch'in had been buried at no great distance from that spot; he found, however, that the grave had disappeared, and he was no longer able to determine its position. Not knowing what to make of it all, he returned home, and then Mrs. Wang told him she thought the girl must be a disembodied spirit. Ying-ning shewed no signs of alarm at this remark; neither did she cry at all when Mrs. Wang began to condole with her on no longer having a home. She only laughed in her usual silly way, and fairly puzzled them all. Sharing Miss Wang's room, she now began to take her part in the duties of a daughter of the family; and as for needlework, they had rarely seen anything like hers for fineness. But she could not get over that trick of laughing, which, by the way, never interfered with her good looks, and consequently rather amused people than otherwise, amongst others a young married lady who lived next door. Wang's mother fixed an auspicious day for the wedding, but still feeling suspicious about Ying-ning, was always secretly watching her. Finding, however, that she had a proper shadow, and that there was nothing extraordinary in her behaviour, she had her dressed up when the day came, in all the finery of a bride; and would have made her perform the usual ceremonies, only Ying-ning laughed so much she was unable to kneel down. They were accordingly obliged to excuse her, but Wang began to fear that such a foolish girl would never be able to keep the family counsel. Luckily, she was very reticent and did not indulge in gossip; and moreover, when Mrs. Wang was in trouble or out of temper, Ying-ning could always bring her round with a laugh. The maid-servants, too, if they expected a whipping for anything, would always ask her to be present when they appeared before their mistress, and thus they often escaped punishment. Ying-ning had a perfect passion for flowers. She got all she could out of her relations, and even secretly pawned her jewels to buy rare specimens; and by the end of a few months the whole place was one mass of flowers.
Behind the house there was one especial tree which belonged to the neighbours on that side; but Ying-ning was always climbing up and picking the flowers, for which Mrs. Wang rebuked her severely, though without any result. One day the owner saw her, and gazed at her some time in rapt astonishment; however, she didn't move, deigning only to laugh. The gentleman was much smitten with her; and when she smilingly descended the wall on her own side, pointing all the time with her finger to a spot hard by, he thought she was making an assignation. So he presented himself at nightfall at the same place, and sure enough Ying-ning was there. Seizing her hand, to tell his passion, he found that he was grasping only a log of wood which stood against the wall; and the next thing he knew was that a scorpion had stung him violently on the finger. There was an end of his romance, except that he died of the wound during the night, and his family at once commenced an action against Wang for having a witch-wife. The magistrate happened to be a great admirer of Wang's talent, and knew him to be an accomplished scholar; he therefore refused to grant the summons, and ordered the prosecutor to be bambooed for false accusation. Wang interposed and got him off this punishment, and returned home himself. His mother then scolded Ying-ning well, saying, "I knew your too playful disposition would some day bring sorrow upon you. But for our intelligent magistrate we should have been in a nice mess. Any ordinary hawk-like official would have had you publicly interrogated in court; and then how could your husband ever have held up his head again?" Ying-ning looked grave and did not laugh this time; and Mrs. Wang continued, "There's no harm in laughing as long as it is seasonable laughter; "but from that moment Ying-ning laughed no more, no matter what people did to make her, though at the same time her expression was by no means gloomy.
One evening she went in tears to her husband, who wanted to know what was the matter. "I couldn't tell you before," said she, sobbing; "we had known each other such a short time. But now that you and your mother have been so kind to me, I will keep nothing from you, but tell you all. I am the daughter of a fox. When my mother went away she put me in the charge of the disembodied spirit of an old woman, with whom I remained for a period of over ten years. I have no brothers: only you to whom I can look. And now my foster-mother is lying on the hill-side with no one to bury her and appease her discontented shade. If not too much, I would ask you to do this, that her spirit may be at rest, and know that it was not neglected by her whom she brought up." Wang consented, but said he feared they would not be able to find her grave; on which Ying-ning said there was no danger of that, and accordingly they set forth together. When they arrived, Ying-ning pointed out the tomb in a lonely spot amidst a thicket of brambles, and there they found the old woman's bones. Ying-ning wept bitterly, and then they proceeded to carry her remains home with them, subsequently interring them in the Ch'in family vault. That night Wang dreamt that the old woman came to thank him, and when he waked he told Ying-ning, who said that she had seen her also, and had been warned by her not to frighten Mr. Wang. Her husband asked why she had not detained the old lady; but Ying-ning replied, "She is a disembodied spirit, and would be ill at ease for any time surrounded by so much life." Wang then enquired after Hsiao-jung, and his wife said, "She was a fox too, and a very clever one. My foster-mother kept her to wait on me, and she was always getting fruit and cakes for me, so that I have a friendship for her and shall never forget her. My foster-mother told me yesterday she was married."
After this, whenever the great fast-day came round, husband and wife went off without fail to worship at the Ch'in family tomb; and by the time a year had passed she gave birth to a son, who wasn't a bit afraid of strangers, but laughed at everybody, and in fact took very much after his mother.
嬰寧
王子服，莒之羅店人，早孤。絕惠，十四入泮，母最愛之，尋常不令游郊野。聘蕭氏，未嫁而夭，故求凰未就也。會上元，有舅氏子吳生，邀同眺矚。方至村外，舅家有仆來，招吳去。生見游女如雲，乘興獨遨。有女郎攜婢，拈梅花一枝，容華絕代，笑容可掬。生注目不移，竟忘顧忌。女過去數武，顧婢曰：「個兒郎目灼灼似賊！」遺花地上，笑語自去。生拾花悵然，神魂喪失，怏怏遂返。至家，藏花枕底，垂頭而睡。不語亦不食。母懮之。醮禳益劇，肌革銳減。醫師診視，投劑發表，忽忽若迷。母撫問所由，默然不答。適吳生來，囑密詰之。吳至榻前，生見之小下。吳就榻慰解，漸致研詰。生具吐其實，且求謀畫。吳笑曰：「君意亦復痴！此願有何難遂？當代訪之。徒步于野，必非世家。如其未字，事固諧矣；不然，拚以重賂，計必允遂。但得痊瘳，成事在我。」生聞之，不覺解頤。吳出告母，物色女子居里，而近代訪既窮，並無蹤緒。母大懮，無所為計。然自吳去後，顏頓開，食亦略進。數日，吳復來。生問所謀，吳紿之曰：「已得之矣。我以為誰何人，乃我姑氏子，即君姨妹行，今尚待聘。雖內戚有婚姻之嫌，實告之，無不諧者。」生喜溢眉宇，問：「居何裡？」吳詭曰：「西南山中，去此可三十餘裡。」生又付囑再四，吳銳身自任而去。
生由是飲食漸加，日就平復。探視枕底，花雖柘，未便雕落。凝思把玩，如見其人。怪吳不至，折柬招之。吳支托不肯赴招。生恚怒，悒悒不歡。母慮其復病，急為議姻。略與商榷，輒搖首不願，惟日盼吳。吳迄無耗，益怨恨之。轉思三十里非遙，何必仰息他人？懷梅袖中，負氣自往，而家人不知也。伶仃獨步，無可問程，但望南山行去。約三十餘裡，亂山合沓，空翠爽肌，寂無人行，止有鳥道。遙望谷底，叢花亂樹中，隱隱有小裡落。下山入村，見舍宇無多，皆茅屋，而意甚修雅。北向一家，門前皆絲柳，牆內桃杏尤繁，間以修竹；野鳥格磔其中。意其園亭，不敢遽入。回顧對戶，有巨石滑潔，因據坐少憩。俄聞牆內有女子，長呼「小榮」，其聲嬌細。方佇聽間，一女郎由東而西，執杏花一朵，俯首自簪。舉頭見生，遂不復簪，含笑拈花而入。審視之，即上元途中所遇也。心驟喜。但念無以階進；欲呼姨氏，顧從無還往，懼有訛誤。門內無人可問。坐臥徘徊，自朝至於日昃，盈盈望斷，並忘飢渴。時見女子露半面來窺，似訝其不去者。忽一老媼扶杖出，顧生曰：「何處郎君，聞自辰刻便來，以至於今。意將何為？得勿飢耶？」生急起揖之，答雲：「將以盼親。」媼聾聵不聞。又大言之。乃問：「貴戚何姓？」生不能答。媼笑曰：「奇哉！姓名尚自不知，何親可探？我視郎君，亦書痴耳。不如從我來，啖以粗糲，家有短榻可臥。待明朝歸，詢知姓氏，再來探訪，不晚也。」生方腹餒思啖，又從此漸近麗人，大喜。從媼入，見門內白石砌路，夾道紅花，片片墮階上；曲折而西，又啟一關，豆棚花架滿庭中。肅客入舍，粉壁光明如鏡；窗外海棠枝朵，探入室中；裀藉幾榻，罔不潔澤。甫坐，即有人自窗外隱約相窺。媼喚：「小榮！可速作黍。」外有婢子噭聲而應。坐次，具展宗閥。媼曰：「郎君外祖，莫姓吳否？」曰：「然。」媼驚曰：「是吾甥也！尊堂，我妹子。年來以家窶貧，又無三尺男，遂至音問梗塞。甥長成如許，尚不相識。」生曰：「此來即為姨也，匆遽遂忘姓氏。」媼曰：「老身秦姓，並無誕育；弱息僅存，亦為庶產。渠母改醮，遺我鞠養。頗亦不鈍，但少教訓，嬉不知悉。少頃，使來拜識。」
未幾，婢子具飯，雛尾盈握。媼勸餐已，婢來斂具。媼曰：「喚寧姑來。」婢應去。良久，聞戶外隱有笑聲。媼又喚曰：「嬰寧，汝姨兄在此。」戶外嗤嗤笑不已。婢推之以入，猶掩其口，笑不可遏。媼嗔目曰：「有客在，吒吒叱叱，是何景象？」女忍笑而立，生揖之。媼曰：「此王郎，汝姨子。一家尚不相識，可笑人也。」生問：「妹子年幾何矣？」媼未能解。生又言之。女復笑，不可仰視。媼謂生曰：「我言少教誨，此可見矣。年已十六，呆痴裁如嬰兒。」生曰：「小於甥一歲。」曰：「阿甥已十七矣，得非庚午屬馬者耶？」生首應之。又問：「甥婦阿誰？」答雲：「無之。」曰：「如甥才貌，何十七歲猶未聘？嬰寧亦無姑家，極相匹敵；惜有內親之嫌。」生無語，目注嬰寧，不遑他瞬。婢向女小語雲：「目灼灼，賊腔未改！」女又大笑，顧婢曰：「視碧桃開未？」遽起，以袖掩口，細碎連步而出。至門外，笑聲始縱。媼亦起，喚婢襆被，為生安置。曰：「阿甥來不易，宜留三五日，遲遲送汝歸。如嫌幽悶，舍後有小園，可供消遣；有書可讀。」次日，至舍後，果有園半畝，細草鋪氈，楊花糝徑；有草舍三楹，花木四合其所。穿花小步，聞樹頭囌囌有聲，仰視，則嬰寧在上。見生來，狂笑欲墮。生曰：「勿爾，墮矣！」女且下且笑，不能自止。方將及地，失手而墮，笑乃止。生扶之，陰捘其腕。女笑又作，倚樹不能行，良久乃罷。生俟其笑歇，乃出袖中花示之。女接之，曰：「枯矣。何留之？」曰：「此上元妹子所遺，故存之。」問：「存之何意？」曰：「以示相愛不忘也。自上元相遇，凝思成病，自分化為異物；不圖得見顏色，幸垂憐憫。」女曰：「此大細事。至戚何所靳惜？待郎行時，園中花，當喚老奴來，折一巨捆負送之。」生曰：「妹子痴耶？」女曰：「何便是痴？」生曰：「我非愛花，愛拈花之人耳。」女曰：「葭莩之情，愛何待言。」生曰：「我所謂愛，非瓜葛之愛，乃夫妻之愛。」女曰：「有以異乎？」曰：「夜共枕蓆耳。」女俯思良久，曰：「我不慣與生人睡。」語未已，婢潛至，生惶恐遁去。少時，會母所。母問：「何往？」女答以園中共話。媼曰：「飯熟已久，有何長言，周遮乃爾。」女曰：「大哥欲我共寢。」言未已，生大窘，急目瞪之。女微笑而止。幸媼不聞，猶絮絮究詰。生急以他詞掩之，因小語責女。女曰：「適此語不應說耶？」生曰：「此背人語。」女曰：「背他人，豈得背老母。且寢處亦常事，何諱之？」生恨其痴，無術可以悟之。食方竟，家中人捉雙衛來尋生。
先是，母待生久不歸，始疑；村中搜覓幾遍，竟無蹤兆。因往詢吳。吳憶曩言，因教于西南山村行覓。凡曆數村，始至於此。生出門，適相值，便入告媼，且請偕女同歸。媼喜曰：「我有志，匪伊朝夕。但殘軀不能遠涉，得甥攜妹子去，識認阿姨，大好！」呼嬰寧。寧笑至。媼曰：「有何喜，笑輒不輟？若不笑，當為全人。」因怒之以目。乃曰：「大哥欲同汝去，可便裝束。」又餉家人酒食，始送之出曰：「姨家田產豐裕，能養冗人。到彼且勿歸，小學詩禮，亦好事翁姑。即煩阿姨，為汝擇一良匹。」二人遂發。至山坳，回顧，猶依稀見媼倚門北望也。
抵家，母睹姝麗，驚問為誰。生以姨女對。母曰：「前吳郎與兒言者，詐也。我未有姊，何以得甥？」問女，女曰：「我非母出。父為秦氏，沒時，兒在褓中，不能記憶。」母曰：「我一姊適秦氏，良確，然殂謝已久，那得復存？」因審詰面龐﹑志贅，一一符合。又疑曰：「是矣。然亡已多年，何得復存？」疑慮間，吳生至，女避入室。吳詢得故，惘然久之。忽曰：「此女名嬰寧耶？」生然之。吳亟稱怪事。問所自知，吳曰：「秦家姑去世後，姑丈鰥居，祟于狐，病瘠死。狐生女名嬰寧，繃臥床上，家人皆見之。姑丈沒，狐猶時來；後求天師符粘壁上，狐遂攜女去。將勿此耶？」彼此疑參。但聞室中吃吃皆嬰寧笑聲。母曰：「此女亦太憨生。」吳請面之。母入室，女猶濃笑不顧。母促令出，始極力忍笑，又面壁移時，方出。才一展拜，翻然遽入，放聲大笑。滿室婦女，為之粲然。吳請往覘其異，就便執柯。尋至村所，廬舍全無，山花零落而已。吳憶姑葬處，仿彿不遠；然墳壠湮沒，莫可辨識，詫嘆而返。母疑其為鬼。入告吳言，女略無駭意；又吊其無家，亦殊無悲意，孜孜憨笑而已。眾莫之測。母令與少女同寢止。昧爽即來省問，操女紅精巧絕倫。但善笑，禁之亦不可止；然笑處嫣然，狂而不損其媚，人皆樂之。鄰女少婦，爭承迎之。母擇吉將為合巹，而終恐為鬼物。竊于日中窺之，形影殊無少異。至日，使華裝行新婦禮；女笑極不能俯仰，遂罷。生以其憨痴，恐泄漏房中隱事；而女殊密秘，不肯道一語。每值母懮怒，女至，一笑即解。奴婢小過，恐遭鞭楚，輒求詣母共話；罪婢投見，恆得免。而愛花成癖，物色遍戚黨；竊典金釵，購佳種，數月，階砌藩溷，無非花者。
庭後有木香一架，故鄰西家。女每攀登其上，摘供簪玩。母時遇見，輒訶之。女卒不改。一日，西人子見之，凝注傾倒。女不避而笑。西人子謂女意已屬，心益蕩。女指牆底笑而下，西人子謂示約處，大悅。及昏而往，女果在焉。就而淫之，則陰如錐刺，痛徹于心，大號而踣。細視非女，則一枯木臥牆邊，所接乃水淋竅也。鄰父聞聲，急奔研問，呻而不言。妻來，始以實告。爇火燭竅，見中有巨蠍，如小蟹然。翁碎木捉殺之。負子至家，半夜尋卒。鄰人訟生，訐發嬰寧妖異。邑宰素仰生才，稔知其篤行士，謂鄰翁訟誣，將杖責之。生為乞免，遂釋而出。母謂女曰：「憨狂爾爾，早知過喜而伏懮也。邑令神明，幸不牽累；設鶻突官宰，必逮婦女質公堂，我兒何顏見戚裡？」女正色，矢不復笑。母曰：「人罔不笑，但須有時。」而女由是竟不復笑，雖故逗，亦終不笑；然竟日未嘗有戚容。
一夕，對生零涕。異之，女哽咽曰：「曩以相從日淺，言之恐致駭怪。今日察姑及郎，皆過愛無有異心，直告或無妨乎？妾本狐產。母臨去，以妾托鬼母，相依十餘年，始有今日。妾又無兄弟，所恃者惟君。老母岑寂山阿，無人憐而合厝之，九泉輒為悼恨。君倘不惜煩費，使地下人消此怨恫，庶養女者不妨溺棄。」生諾之，然慮墳塚迷于荒草。女但言無慮。刻日，夫妻輿櫬而往。女于荒煙錯楚中，指示墓處，果得媼尸，膚革猶存。女撫哭哀痛。舁歸，尋秦氏墓合葬焉。是夜，生夢媼來稱謝，寤而述之。女曰：「妾夜見之，囑勿驚郎君耳。」生恨不邀留。女曰：「彼鬼也。生人多，陽氣勝，何能久居？」生問小榮，曰：「是亦狐，最黠。狐母留以視妾，每攝餌相哺，故德之常不去心。昨問母，雲已嫁之。」由是歲值寒食，夫妻登秦墓，拜掃無缺。女逾年，生一子。在懷抱中，不畏生人，見人輒笑，亦大有母風雲。
異史氏曰：「觀其孜孜憨笑，似全無心肝者；而牆下惡作劇，其黠孰甚焉。至淒戀鬼母，反笑為哭，我嬰寧殆隱于笑者矣。竊聞山中有草，名「笑矣乎」。嗅之，則笑不可止。房中植此一種，則合歡﹑忘懮，並無顏色矣。若解語花，正嫌其作態耳。」
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