The Historian of the Strange1 says: The hearts of men are as treacherous as ghosts and water-imps2 the world over, and on the great highways between north and south the harm is at its worst. There are robbers with strong bows and fierce horses who waylay travellers outside the city gates, and everyone knows about them. Then there are those who slit purses and cut open bags and snatch goods in the market: the traveller turns his head, and his money is gone. Are these not the worst of the ghosts and imps? But there is yet another kind. They meet you by chance, like duckweed drifting together on the water, with words as sweet as new wine. They come on little by little and work their way in deep. You take them for friends made on the road, and so you meet the disaster of losing your money. They set their traps as the chance offers, in all sorts of guises, and because their talk soaks into you, people call them nianyang3. Nowadays there are many of them on the northern roads, and a great many people fall victim to them.

Wang Zixun, from my home parts, was a licentiate of my county4. An elder of his clan was a Hanlin academician5 in the capital, enrolled in the Banners, and Wang set out to visit him. He packed and went north. A few li6 out of Jinan, a man on a black donkey came riding up and fell in with him, and kept drawing him into idle talk; Wang answered him readily enough. The man said: “My name is Zhang. I’m a runner at the Qixia yamen, sent to the capital on the magistrate’s business.” He spoke of himself very humbly and waited on Wang with great attentiveness. He kept company with Wang for several dozen li and proposed they put up together for the night. When Wang was ahead, he whipped up his donkey to catch up; when Wang fell behind, he waited respectfully at the roadside. Wang’s servant grew suspicious and sent him off sternly, refusing to let him follow. Zhang looked rather ashamed, flourished his whip and rode away. That evening Wang stopped at an inn. Strolling about the gateway, he saw Zhang drinking in the outer rooms. While he was still startled and wondering, Zhang caught sight of him and stood with hands lowered and joined in a bow, as humble as a menial, and asked a few polite questions. Wang took it for an ordinary chance meeting and thought nothing of it, but his servant watched Zhang all night. When the cock crowed, Zhang came to call them to set off together; the servant drove him off with a curse, and he went. Only when the morning sun was up did Wang take the road. After about half a day, there was a man ahead of him on a white donkey, about forty, his clothes and hat neat and clean, his head drooping as he jogged along, nodding with sleep as if about to fall off. Sometimes ahead, sometimes behind, they went on like this for more than ten li. Wang, puzzled, asked: “What were you doing last night, to be in such a daze?” The man started, yawned and stretched, and said: “I’m from Qingyuan, surname Xu. Gao Qing, the magistrate of Linzi, is my cousin. My elder brother teaches in his yamen, and I went to visit him and came away with a few presents. Last night at the inn I had the bad luck to lodge with nianyang men. I was so frightened I didn’t dare shut my eyes, and that’s why I’m in a fog in broad daylight.” Wang asked on purpose: “What do you mean, nianyang?” Xu said: “You haven’t travelled much, sir; you don’t know the dangers and tricks of the road. There are villains about who lure travellers with sweet words, worm their way into stopping and lodging with them, and then cheat them when they get the chance. Just yesterday a distant relative of mine lost his travelling money that way. We should all be on our guard.” Wang nodded. Now, Wang was an old acquaintance of the magistrate of Linzi; he had once served on his staff and knew his retainers, and there had in fact been one named Xu. So he dropped his suspicions, exchanged pleasantries, and asked after Xu’s brother. Xu proposed they put up at the same inn that evening, and Wang agreed. But the servant still suspected he was a fraud. He planned secretly with his master to dawdle and hang back, and so they lost Xu and saw no more of him.

Around noon the next day he met a youth of perhaps sixteen or seventeen on a sturdy mule, his cap and clothes neat and trim, and very handsome. They rode together a long while without exchanging a word. When the sun had set, the youth said suddenly: “It isn’t far now to Qulüdian.” Wang made some vague reply. Then the youth began to sigh and sob as if overcome. Wang asked a little about it, and the youth sighed: “My name is Jin, from Jiangnan, south of the Yangzi. Three years of burning lamp oil in the hope of a degree, and I never thought I’d fall even behind Sun Shan7! My elder brother is a secretary in one of the ministries, so I brought my family up with me, hoping to take my mind off it. I’ve never travelled before, and this dust and sand in my face is driving me to distraction.” He took out a red handkerchief and wiped his face, sighing and lamenting all the while. He spoke with a southern accent, soft and sweet as a girl’s. Wang took a liking to him and said a few comforting words. The youth said: “I rode on ahead just now, and I’ve been watching for my family a long while, but they don’t come. Why don’t any of my servants turn up either? It will soon be dark. What shall I do?” He lingered, looking back, and rode very slowly. So Wang pressed on ahead and gradually left him behind. In the evening he put up at an inn. When he went into his room, there was a bed by the wall where another guest had already laid out his baggage. Wang asked the innkeeper about it, and just then a man came in, picked up the baggage and carried it out, saying: “Please settle in, sir. I’ll move somewhere else at once.” Wang looked at him: it was Xu. Wang stopped him and asked him to share the room, so Xu stayed, and they sat talking. A little later someone else came in carrying his baggage, saw Wang and Xu in the room, turned round and hurried out, saying: “There are guests here already.” Wang looked closely: it was the youth from the road. Before Wang could speak, Xu jumped up, caught hold of him and made him stay, and the youth sat down. Xu asked him where he was from and of what family, and the youth told Xu what he had said on the road. In a moment he opened his purse and took out his silver, a heavy pile of it, weighed out a tael8 or so for the innkeeper, and told him to prepare food and wine for an evening of talk. The other two did their best to talk him out of it, but he would not listen.