Judge Lu

Zhu Erdan, of Lingyang, whose courtesy name was Xiaoming, was bold and outgoing by nature, though tending to be gullible. He studied industriously but had not yet made a name for himself.

One day his literary club gathered for a drinking party, and one member taunted him: “We all know how daring you are. If you can go to the Hall of the Ten Kings of Hell in the middle of the night and bring back the judge in the left gallery, all of us will contribute to a feast in your honor.” He was referring to Lingyang’s Hall of Ten Kings, where there were lifelike images of gods and demons carved in wood. In the east corridor was a standing judge with green face and red beard, quite frightful in appearance. Sounds of torture and interrogation had been heard in the corridors at night, making the hair of those who entered stand chillingly on end. Zhu’s companions were only using this to embarrass him. But Zhu got up laughing and went straight out.

Not much time passed before a loud yell was heard outside the door: “The bearded master is here by my invitation!” Everyone stood up. Presently Zhu came in carrying the judge, set him on a table and poured a libation of three cupfuls of wine. Everyone watched apprehensively, fidgeting in their seats. They asked him to carry the image away as well. Again Zhu poured wine on the floor as he made this prayer: “Your disciple is willful and uncultivated. May your Honour not take offense. My humble quarters are not far. Please feel free to come for a drink with me anytime you choose. Let there be no barriers
between us.” Whereupon Zhu carried the image away.

Next day the club members kept their word and invited Zhu to a drinking party. At sundown he went home feeling halfway tipsy. Still being in a party mood, he trimmed the lampwick and poured himself a measure. Suddenly someone parted the curtain and entered. He looked up to see the judge before him.

Zhu stood up and said: “I suppose I’m about to die! Last night I committed sacrilege. Have you come to execute me?”

The judge smiled under his thick beard as he said, “You’re wrong. Yesterday I was honoured by your kind invitation. Since I happen to have leisure tonight, I am glad to accept an invitation from such a liberal-minded man as yourself.” Zhu was overjoyed. He urged the judge to take a seat by tugging at his robe, then went to wash wine vessels and light a fire.

“The weather is pleasantly warm: we can drink it cold,” said the judge. Zhu did as directed, putting the pitcher of wine on the table. He ran to tell his servants to prepare a light meal and fruit. His wife, greatly distraught at hearing of their guest, warned him not to leave the inner rooms. Zhu did not listen. He stood waiting for the dishes to be prepared so he could serve them. Having done so, he and his guest toasted back and forth. Only then did he ask his guest’s name.

“Lu is my family name. I have no given name. When Zhu brought up subjects from the classics, the guest’s replies came as quickly as echoes.

“Are you conversant with the examination essay style?” asked Zhu.

“I can distinguish the agreeable from the disgusting fairly well. What we read in the court of the underworld is pretty much the same as what you have in the sunlit world.” Judge Lu drank mightily, downing ten horns in a single bout. Because Zhu had been drinking all day, his condition was like a jade mountain ready to topple heavily. He leaned against the table in wine-soaked slumber. When he awoke he saw by the sickly light of a guttering candle that his ghostly guest was gone. From that night on the judge came once every few days. Their friendship grew even closer. Sometimes they slept together with the soles of their feet touching. When Zhu presented his practice compositions, Lu always covered the papers with red ink and invariably said they would not do.

One night Zhu, being drunk, went to bed first, while Lu stayed up pouring wine for himself. Suddenly, in his drunken dream, Zhu was aware of a slight pain in his viscera. He woke up and looked: Lu was sitting upright by the bed drawing entrails out of Zhu’s rent abdomen and putting the coils in order.

“There has never been malice between us,” said Zhu, shocked.”Why are you killing me?”

“Never fear. I’m only putting in a brilliant heart in place of yours,” said Lu laughingly. He calmly stuffed the intestines back in, pushed the incision together and finally wound strips of footbinding cloth around Zhu’s loins. When the operation was completed there were no traces of blood to be seen on the bed. Only Zhu’s abdomen felt a bit numb. He asked about the lump of flesh which he noticed the judge putting on the table.

“This is your own heart. From your slowness at writing I knew your heart’s apertures were blocked. Just now in the nether regions I picked out one excellent heart among tens of thousands. Now I have exchanged it for yours, which I’ll keep to make up for the missing one.” He rose and left, closing the door softly behind him.

At dawn Zhu undid the bandage to have a look: the incision had already closed, leaving only a thin red line. From then on he showed great improvement in his ability to express thought in writing. When he passed his eyes over a page, he never forgot it. After a few days he brought out
another composition and showed it to Lu.

“It will do,” said Lu. “But your blessings are meager. You cannot win any great honors. The prefectural and provincial examinations are as far as you’ll go.”

“When will that be?”asked zhu.

“You will take top honors in this year’s provincial exam.”

Not long afterwards he came out first in the prefectural examination and went on to win an honorable title in the provincial examinations. His friends in the literary club who had always poked fun at him looked at one another in amazement when they read copies of his examination papers. Finally, after thorough questioning, they learned of the marvel that lay behind this. They all pleaded with Zhu to say a word on their behalf, so that they might strike up an acquaintance with Lu. Lu consented. The group made elaborate preparations to entertain him. Lu arrived at the beginning of the first watch, his red beard wagging and his eyes glinting like lightning. The group members were pale and dazed; their teeth were on the point of chattering. Gradually they all withdrew.

Zhu, for his part, took Lu by the hand and went home to drink wine. When they were soaked, Zhu said, “By opening my stomach and washing my intestines, you have already given me a great deal. There is one more favor I’d like to ask of you, but I don’t know if I should.” Without hesitation, Lu offered to do his bidding. Zhu said, “If vitals can be exchanged, I suppose that facial features can be replaced too. My wife and I got married when we came of age. The lower part of her body is not bad at all, but her head and face are not very appealing. I would like to trouble you to put your blade to use once again. What do you say?”

Lu answered with a laugh: “As you wish. Give me time to work out the details.” After several days he came knocking on the gate in the middle of the night. Zhu got up quickly and invited him in. The light of a candle revealed an object bulging beneath his coat. Zhu demanded to know what it was.

“What you asked for a while ago has been hard to select, but I just obtained the head of a beautiful woman, which I am now bringing you as you requested. Zhu pulled his lapel aside to look: the neck was still wet with blood. Lu immediately urged him to go inside in order not to arouse dogs and fowl. Zhu was concerned because the doors to the inner rooms had been locked for the night, but when Lu walked up and touched the double-leafed door with one hand, the door opened by itself. Zhu led him to the bedroom, where his wife lay sleeping on her side. “Lu had Zhu hold the head in his arms, while he pulled a sharp daggerlike blade from his boot. He pressed it down on the neck of Zhu’s wife as delicately as if he were slicing a piece of curd. The flesh parted before the blade, and the head fell beside the pillow He quickly took the beautiful woman’s head from the scholar’s cradled arms and fitted it on the neck. After checking carefully to be sure it was correctly aligned, he pressed down. When that was done he slid a pillow under her shoulders. He ordered Zhu to bury the head in a quiet place and then left.

Zhu’s wife awoke with a slight tingling in her neck and a crust on her cheeks. Rubbing them she discovered flakes of dried blood. Horrified, she called for a maid to draw a basin of water. The maid was thoroughly shocked when she saw her mistress’s blood-spattered visage. Washing it clean made the whole basinful of water red. Looking up, the maid saw a set of features that in no way resembled those of her mistress. Nothing could have given her a greater shock. The wife reached for a mirror and was thrown into consternation by what she saw. She had no idea what had happened to herself. Zhu came in and told her all about it. Meanwhile he looked from every possible angles at her long eyebrows that lost themselves beneath the hair at her temples and the dimples on her cheeks when she smiled. She was, in short, a beauty right out of a painting. Zhu loosened her collar for a closer look and found a red line encircling her neck. The skin above and below her neck was of two distinct colors.

Prior to this, a certain Provincial Censor Wu had a very beautiful daughter who was still unwed at nineteen because her two prospective husbands had died before she could marry them. On the day of the Lantern Festival she went for a visit to the Hall of Ten Kings, at a time when all sorts of sightseers were there. Among them was a scoundrel who stared at her, aroused by her beauty. Unbeknownst to her, he found out which neighborhood she lived in. He went there under cover of night, climbed over the wall with a ladder and cut a hole in the bedroom door. He killed a maid beside the bed, then tried to make love to the young woman by force. She screamed and put up vigorous resistance, which so infuriated the rapist he killed her too. Lady Wu, faintly hearing the commotion, told a maid to go look. The maid fainted at the sight of the body. After the whole family had been roused up, they laid the girl’s body in the hall, and her head was laid beside the neck. The entire household was in a screeching, wailing uproar all night. In the morning they lifted the quilt only to find the body there but the head gone. They beat all the waiting maids for not being attentive enough while watching over their mistress and so allowing her head to be buried in the stomachs of dogs.

The Censor reported this to the prefectural government. Though the district imposed a strict time limit for capture of the killer, he was still at large after three months. Eventually Master Wu was apprised of the wondrous head substitution in Zhu’s house. His suspicions aroused, Wu sent an old woman there to sound out the family on this matter. She went in and saw the lady of the house, then ran back in fear to tell Master Wu. When he learned that his daughter’s body was still intact, the master could not get over his astonishment and suspicion. He surmised that Zhu had used black arts to kill his daughter and went to him to demand the truth.

Zhu said, “My wife’s head was changed in a dream, but I have no idea how it came about. It would be unjust to say that I killed your daughter.”

Wu was not convinced. He brought charges against Zhu, and the members of his household were summoned for questioning. Everything they said corroborated Zhu’s story. The prefectural magistrate could not reach a decision. Zhu went to home and asked Lu for a plan.

“This is not difficult,” said Lu. T’ll simply have his daughter tell the truth.”

That night Wu dreamed of his daughter, who said,”I was murdered by Yang Danian of Su Creek. Bachelor Zhu had nothing to do with it. He found his wife unattractive, so Judge Lu exchanged my head for hers. This way my head lives on, even though my body is dead. I hope you will bear no grudge against him.” Wu awoke and told his wife of the dream. It was identical to what she had dreamed. They notified the authorities of this. Inquiries proved that there was indeed a Yang Danian, who later confessed his guilt after being arrested and shackled. Wu paid Zhu a visit and asked to see the lady of the house. From then on Wu and Zhu were as father and son-in-law. Zhu’s wife’s head was put together with Wu’s daughter’s corpse and buried.

Zhu entered the capital examination three times, but was thrown out each time for breaking rules of deportment. At this the goal of official advancement soured on him.

Thirty years passed. One evening Lu told him; “You do not have much longer to live.” Zhu asked him when his time would come, and Lu answered that he had five days.

“Can you save me?”

“What good are personal wishes in the face of heaven’s decree? And anyway life and death are one in the eyes of a man of broad perspective. Why should you rejoice at life and grieve at death?”

This made sense to Zhu. He readied a suit of burial clothes, a shroud, a coffin, and an outer coffin. That being done, he dressed himself impeccably and died. The next day, just as his wife was leaning against the coffin in tears, Zhu suddenly floated in from outside. His wife was terrified. Zhu spoke to her: “Yes, I am a ghost, but no different from when I lived. I worry about you two, a widowed mother and an orphaned boy; I simply can’t bear parting with you.”

His wife was so overcome with the grief that snivel dripped onto her chest. Zhu consoled her tenderly. His wife said, “In ancient times men told of souls returning to their bodies. Since your spirit is not extinguished, why not live again?”

Zhu replied, “The workings of fate cannot be defied.”

“What do you do in the court of the underworld?”

“Judge Lu recommended me for a position overseeing case records. I have an official title, but it is not too demanding.”His wife wanted to say more, but Zhu cut her off: “Master Lu came here with me. Would you set out wine and food?” He walked out with rapid steps. His wife made preparations according to his wishes, and the room was soon filled with laughing toasts and loud, convivial talk, just as when her husband had been alive. Then she peeked into the room in the middle of night: both of them had departed without a trace. From then on Zhu came once every few days. Now and then he spent an intimate night with her. While there he advised her on the handling of household matters, and he always hugged his son Wei, who was five years old at the time of his death. When the boy was about seven he taught him to read by lamplight. The boy, too, was brilliant. At nine he could write a composition; at fifteen he entered the local academy, never realizing that he was fatherless. Then Zhu’s visits tapered off, until he came only once or so a month. One evening he came and said to his wife: “The time has come for me to say goodbye to you forever.”

“Where will you go?” she asked.

“Jade Emperor of Heaven has made me Governor of Hua Mountain. I must go a great distance to assume my post. My duties are many and the road is hard, so I cannot return.”

His wife and son cried and held him fast.

“Don’t take it so hard! Our son’s position in life is assured, and the family fortune will be enough for you to live on. When has there ever been a pair of phoenixes that stayed together for a century?”

Turning to his son, he said, “Be a man of character, and don’t squander what I’ve left you. We’ll get to see each other ten years from now.” He walked straight out the door and was gone.

At the age of twenty-five, Wei was awarded a Master of Letters degree and given the position of inspecting commissioner. He was ordered to perform ceremonies at Hua Mountain, the Western Sacred Peak, and his route took him through Huayin County. To his surprise there suddenly appeared a carriage with attendants bearing plumed canopies, galloping toward the ranks of his escort. On closer inspection, the man in the carriage proved to be his father. He dismounted and threw himself down, sobbing, at the side of the road. His father stopped the carriage and said, “You have a good reputation as an official. Now I can rest easy.” Wei did not rise from his prone position. Without turning his head, Zhu ordered his carriage to leave quickly. When he had gone several paces he turned, unfastened a sword from his waist and had an attendant hand it to his son.

“Wear it and you will prosper,” he cried from afar. Wei was about to run after him, but, as he watched, the carriage with its horses and attendants floated airily over the ground and disappeared in the blinking of an eye. For a long time he gave himself up to disappointment and regret. Then he drew the sword and saw that it was a piece of extremely fine workmanship. A line of words was engraved upon it: “Be long on courage and short on foolhardiness； be round in wisdom and square in conduct.” Wei later attained the rank of sub-prefect. He had five sons: Chen, Qian, Mi, Hun and Shen. One night he dreamed his father said, “The sword should go to Hun.” He acted accordingly. Hun later became a commissioner-general with a high reputation.

The Chronicler of the Tales comments:”To chop short the crane’s legs and stretch the duck’s is the folly of artificiality, but grafting a flower to a tree is a marvel of creativity. How true these two statements are when vitals are to be hacked up and knives are to be wielded against necks! This Master Lu was repulsive on the outside but attractive on the inside. It has not been all that many years from the end of the Ming Dynasty to the present. Is Master Lu of Lingyang still around? Does his supernatural power still work as of old? I would like nothing more than to serve, whip in hand, as his charioteer.”