邢雲飛，順天人。好石，見佳石，不惜重直。偶漁於河，有物挂網，沉而取之，則石徑尺，四面玲瓏，峰巒疊秀。喜極，如獲異珍。既歸，雕紫檀為座，供諸案頭。每值天欲雨，則孔孔生雲，遙望如塞新絮。有勢豪某，踵門求觀。既見，舉付健僕，策馬徑去。邢無奈，頓足悲憤而已。僕負石至河濱，息肩橋上，忽失手，墮諸河。豪怒，鞭僕。即出金，僱善泅者，百計冥搜，竟不可見。乃懸金署約而去。由是尋石者日盈於河，迄無獲者。後邢至落石處，臨流於邑，但見河水清澈，則石固在水中。邢大喜，解衣入水，抱之而出。攜歸，不敢設諸廳所，潔治內室供之。一日，有老叟款門而請。邢託言石失已久。叟笑曰：「客舍非耶？」邢便請入舍，以實其無，及入，則石果陳几上。愕不能言。叟撫石曰：「此吾家故物，失去已久，今固在此耶。既見之，請即賜還。」邢窘甚，遂與爭作石主。叟笑曰：「既汝家物，有何驗證？」邢不能答。叟曰：「僕則故識之。前後九十二竅，巨孔中五字云：『清虛天石供。』」邢審視，孔中果有小字，細如粟米，竭目力裁可辨認；又數其竅，果如所言。邢無以對，但執不與。叟笑曰：「誰家物，而憑君作主耶！」拱手而出。邢送至門外；既還，已失石所在。邢急追叟，則叟緩步未遠。奔牽其袂而哀之。叟曰：「奇哉！經尺之石，豈可以手握袂藏者耶？」邢知其神，強曳之歸，長跽請之。叟乃曰：「石果君家者耶、僕家者耶？」答曰：「誠屬君家，但求割愛耳。」叟曰：「既然，石固在是。」入室，則石已在故處。叟曰：「天下之寶，當與愛惜之人。此石能自擇主，僕亦喜之。然彼急於自見，其出也早，則魔劫未除。實將攜去，待三年後，始以奉贈。既欲留之，當減三年壽數，乃可與君相終始。君願之乎？」曰：「願。」叟乃以兩指捏一竅，竅軟如泥，隨手而閉。閉三竅，已，曰：「石上竅數，即君壽也。」作別欲去。邢苦留之，辭甚堅；問其姓字，亦不言，遂去。積年餘，邢以故他出，夜有賊入室，諸無所失，惟竊石而去。邢歸，悼喪欲死。訪察購求，全無蹤跡。積有數年，偶入報國寺，見賣石者，則故物也，將便認取。賣者不服，因負石至官。官問：「何所質驗？」賣石者能言竅數。邢問其他，則茫然矣。邢乃言竅中五字及三指痕，理遂得伸。官欲杖責賣石者，賣石者自言以二十金買諸市，遂釋之。邢得石歸，裹以錦，藏櫝中，時出一賞，先焚異香而後出之。有尚書某，購以百金。邢曰：「雖萬金不易也。」尚書怒，陰以他事中傷之。邢被收，典質田產。尚書託他人風示其子。子告邢，邢願以死殉石。妻竊與子謀，獻石尚書家。邢出獄始知，罵妻毆子，屢欲自經，家人覺救，得不死。夜夢一丈夫來，自言：「石清虛。」戒邢勿戚：「特與君年餘別耳。明年八月二十日，昧爽時，可詣海岱門，以兩貫相贖。」邢得夢，喜，謹誌其日。其石在尚書家，更無出雲之異，久亦不甚貴重之。明年，尚書以罪削職，尋死。邢如期至海岱門，則其家人竊石出售，因以兩貫市歸。後邢至八十九歲，自治葬具；又囑子，必以石殉。及卒，子遵遺教，瘞石墓中。半年許，賊發墓，劫石去。子知之，莫可追詰。越二三日，同僕在道，忽見兩人，奔躓汗流，望空投拜，曰：「邢先生，勿相逼！我二人將石去，不過賣四兩銀耳。」遂縶送到官，一訊即伏。問石，則鬻宮氏。取石至，官愛玩，欲得之，命寄諸庫。吏舉石，石忽墮地，碎為數十餘片。皆失色。官乃重械兩盜論死。邢子拾碎石出，仍瘞墓中。
邢云飞，顺天人。好石，见佳石，不惜重直。偶渔于河，有物挂网，沉而取之，则石径尺，四面玲珑，峰峦叠秀。喜极，如获异珍。既归，雕紫檀为座，供诸案头。每值天欲雨，则孔孔生云，遥望如塞新絮。有势豪某，踵门求观。既见，举付健仆，策马径去。邢无奈，顿足悲愤而已。仆负石至河滨，息肩桥上，忽失手，堕诸河。豪怒，鞭仆。即出金，雇善泅者，百计冥搜，竟不可见。乃悬金署约而去。由是寻石者日盈于河，迄无获者。后邢至落石处，临流於邑，但见河水清澈，则石固在水中。邢大喜，解衣入水，抱之而出。携归，不敢设诸厅所，洁治内室供之。一日，有老叟款门而请。邢托言石失已久。叟笑曰：「客舍非耶？」邢便请入舍，以实其无，及入，则石果陈几上。愕不能言。叟抚石曰：「此吾家故物，失去已久，今固在此耶。既见之，请即赐还。」邢窘甚，遂与争作石主。叟笑曰：「既汝家物，有何验证？」邢不能答。叟曰：「仆则故识之。前后九十二窍，巨孔中五字云：『清虚天石供。』」邢审视，孔中果有小字，细如粟米，竭目力裁可辨认；又数其窍，果如所言。邢无以对，但执不与。叟笑曰：「谁家物，而凭君作主耶！」拱手而出。邢送至门外；既还，已失石所在。邢急追叟，则叟缓步未远。奔牵其袂而哀之。叟曰：「奇哉！经尺之石，岂可以手握袂藏者耶？」邢知其神，强曳之归，长跽请之。叟乃曰：「石果君家者耶、仆家者耶？」答曰：「诚属君家，但求割爱耳。」叟曰：「既然，石固在是。」入室，则石已在故处。叟曰：「天下之宝，当与爱惜之人。此石能自择主，仆亦喜之。然彼急于自见，其出也早，则魔劫未除。实将携去，待三年后，始以奉赠。既欲留之，当减三年寿数，乃可与君相终始。君愿之乎？」曰：「愿。」叟乃以两指捏一窍，窍软如泥，随手而闭。闭三窍，已，曰：「石上窍数，即君寿也。」作别欲去。邢苦留之，辞甚坚；问其姓字，亦不言，遂去。积年余，邢以故他出，夜有贼入室，诸无所失，惟窃石而去。邢归，悼丧欲死。访察购求，全无踪迹。积有数年，偶入报国寺，见卖石者，则故物也，将便认取。卖者不服，因负石至官。官问：「何所质验？」卖石者能言窍数。邢问其他，则茫然矣。邢乃言窍中五字及三指痕，理遂得伸。官欲杖责卖石者，卖石者自言以二十金买诸市，遂释之。邢得石归，裹以锦，藏椟中，时出一赏，先焚异香而后出之。有尚书某，购以百金。邢曰：「虽万金不易也。」尚书怒，阴以他事中伤之。邢被收，典质田产。尚书托他人风示其子。子告邢，邢愿以死殉石。妻窃与子谋，献石尚书家。邢出狱始知，骂妻殴子，屡欲自经，家人觉救，得不死。夜梦一丈夫来，自言：「石清虚。」戒邢勿戚：「特与君年余别耳。明年八月二十日，昧爽时，可诣海岱门，以两贯相赎。」邢得梦，喜，谨志其日。其石在尚书家，更无出云之异，久亦不甚贵重之。明年，尚书以罪削职，寻死。邢如期至海岱门，则其家人窃石出售，因以两贯市归。后邢至八十九岁，自治葬具；又嘱子，必以石殉。及卒，子遵遗教，瘗石墓中。半年许，贼发墓，劫石去。子知之，莫可追诘。越二三日，同仆在道，忽见两人，奔踬汗流，望空投拜，曰：「邢先生，勿相逼！我二人将石去，不过卖四两银耳。」遂絷送到官，一讯即伏。问石，则鬻宫氏。取石至，官爱玩，欲得之，命寄诸库。吏举石，石忽堕地，碎为数十余片。皆失色。官乃重械两盗论死。邢子拾碎石出，仍瘗墓中。
Xing Yunfei was a man of Shuntian. He loved stones, and when he saw a fine one he never grudged a high price. Once, as he was fishing in the river, something caught in his net. He dived down and brought it up: it was a stone a foot across, pierced through and through on every side, with peaks and ridges rising in lovely tiers. He was overjoyed, as if he had found a rare treasure. When he got home, he had a stand carved for it out of red sandalwood and set it up on his desk. Whenever rain was on the way, clouds rose from every hole, so that from a distance it looked stuffed with fresh cotton floss. A certain powerful bully came to his door asking to see it. As soon as he saw it, he handed it to a burly servant, whipped up his horse and rode straight off. Xing could do nothing but stamp his feet in grief and rage. The servant carried the stone on his back as far as the river. While he was resting his shoulders on the bridge, his grip suddenly slipped and it fell into the river. The bully was furious and whipped the servant. Then he paid good money to hire skilled swimmers, who searched blindly by every means they could think of, but it was nowhere to be found. So he posted a reward with a signed notice and went away. After that the river was crowded every day with people hunting for the stone, but no one ever found it. Later Xing came to the spot where the stone had fallen. As he stood by the water sobbing, he saw that the river had turned crystal clear, and there was the stone in the water. Overjoyed, Xing took off his clothes, went into the water and came out with the stone in his arms. He took it home. Not daring to set it in the front hall, he cleaned out an inner room and kept it there. One day an old man knocked at the gate and asked to see it. Xing pretended that the stone had been lost long ago. The old man smiled. “Isn’t it in your guest room?” Xing invited him into the room to prove it was not there; but when they went in, there was the stone, set out on the table. Xing was too astonished to speak. The old man stroked the stone. “This is an old possession of my family’s,” he said. “It was lost long ago — so this is where it has been! Now that I have found it, please be so kind as to give it back.” Xing was at his wits’ end, and argued with him over whose stone it was. The old man smiled. “If it belongs to your family, what proof have you?” Xing could not answer. “I, on the other hand, know it of old,” said the old man. “Front and back it has ninety-two holes, and inside the biggest hole are five characters: ‘An offering stone of the Heaven of Pure Emptiness.’” Xing looked closely. Inside the hole there were indeed tiny characters, small as grains of millet, that he could just make out by straining his eyes. He counted the holes too, and there were just as many as the old man had said. Xing had nothing to say, but held on to it and would not give it up. The old man laughed. “Whose is it, that you should be the one to decide?” He cupped his hands in farewell and went out. Xing saw him out of the gate. When he came back, the stone was gone. Xing hurried after the old man, who was strolling along and had not gone far. He ran up, caught him by the sleeve and pleaded with him. “How strange!” said the old man. “A stone a foot across — can a man hold it in his hand or hide it in his sleeve?” Xing knew then that he was a god. He dragged him back home by force and knelt upright before him, begging. Then the old man said, “Is the stone really yours, or mine?” “It truly belongs to you,” Xing answered. “I only beg you to part with what you love.” “In that case,” said the old man, “the stone is right here.” They went into the room, and the stone was back in its old place. “The treasures of this world,” said the old man, “should go to those who love and cherish them. This stone can choose its own master, and I am glad of that too. But it was in too much of a hurry to show itself. It came out too early, and its trials are not yet over. I really meant to take it away and give it to you three years from now. If you want to keep it now, you must give up three years of your life; then it can stay with you to the end. Are you willing?” “I am,” said Xing. The old man pinched one of the holes between two fingers. It was as soft as mud and closed up at his touch. When he had closed three holes, he said, “The number of holes in the stone is the number of your years.” Then he said goodbye and made to leave. Xing begged him to stay, but he firmly refused. Xing asked his name, but he would not give it, and went away. A year or so later Xing was away from home on some business. One night a thief broke in and took nothing but the stone. When Xing came home, he grieved as if he would die. He searched and inquired and offered money for it, but there was no trace of it at all. Several years went by. One day he happened to go into the Baoguo Temple and saw a man selling stones, and there was his own stone. He was about to claim it, but the seller would not give way, so they carried the stone to the magistrate. “What proof do you have?” the magistrate asked. The stone-seller could say how many holes it had, but when Xing asked him anything else, he was at a loss. Then Xing told of the five characters inside the hole and the three fingermarks, and his claim was upheld. The magistrate was going to have the seller beaten, but the man said he had bought the stone in the market for twenty taels, so he was let go. Xing brought the stone home, wrapped it in brocade and kept it in a box. Now and then he took it out to admire it, but always burned rare incense first. A certain minister offered him a hundred taels for it. “I wouldn’t part with it for ten thousand,” said Xing. The minister was angry, and in secret had him charged over some other matter. Xing was arrested, and his land and property had to be pawned. The minister had others drop a hint to Xing’s son. The son told Xing, but Xing said he would rather die for the stone. His wife plotted secretly with the son, and they gave the stone to the minister’s household. Only when Xing came out of prison did he learn of it. He cursed his wife and beat his son, and several times tried to hang himself, but each time the household found him and saved him, so he did not die. One night he dreamed that a man came to him and gave his name: “Shi Qingxu.” He told Xing not to grieve. “We shall be parted only a year or so. Next year, on the twentieth of the eighth month, at first light, go to the Haidai Gate, and you can buy me back for two strings of cash.” Xing woke happy from the dream and made careful note of the date. In the minister’s house the stone never again gave forth clouds, and in time the minister came to think little of it. The next year the minister was stripped of office for some crime, and soon died. Xing went to the Haidai Gate on the appointed day. A servant of the minister’s house had stolen the stone and was selling it, and Xing bought it for two strings of cash and took it home. Later, when Xing reached the age of eighty-nine, he got his own burial things ready, and told his son that the stone must be buried with him. When he died, his son obeyed his last wishes and buried the stone in his grave. About half a year later, robbers broke open the grave and made off with the stone. His son learned of it but had no way to track them down. Two or three days later, he was on the road with a servant when he suddenly saw two men running and stumbling, streaming with sweat, throwing themselves down and bowing to the empty air. “Mr. Xing, don’t hound us!” they cried. “The two of us took the stone, but we only sold it for four taels of silver!” So the son had them tied up and taken to the magistrate, and at the first questioning they confessed. Asked about the stone, they said they had sold it to a man named Gong. The stone was fetched. The magistrate loved it and wanted it for himself, and ordered it lodged in the storehouse. As a clerk lifted it, the stone suddenly fell to the ground and broke into dozens of pieces. Everyone went pale. Then the magistrate had the two robbers put in heavy fetters and sentenced to death. Xing’s son gathered up the broken pieces and took them away, and buried them again in the grave.