Licentiate Liu could remember the events of his former lives. He said that in one life he had been a gentleman of rank, whose conduct had many blemishes. When he died at sixty-two, he was first brought before the King of Hell, who treated him with the courtesy due to a rural elder, giving him a seat and tea. Liu, peeping, saw that the tea in the King's cup was clear, while his own was turbid as glue. Secretly suspecting that this was the wine of forgetfulness, he took advantage of the King's looking away to pour his cup out at the corner of the table, pretending to have drained it.
Presently his register of evil deeds in the former life was examined, and the King, enraged, ordered the ghosts to drag him down and punish him by making him a horse. A fierce ghost bound and led him away. They came to a house whose threshold was very high, so that he could not step over. While he hesitated, the ghost lashed him hard; in great pain he stumbled and fell. Looking at himself, he found he was already beneath the stable-railing. He heard someone say, "The black mare has foaled—it is a male." His mind was perfectly clear, but he could not speak. He felt very hungry, and perforce went to the mare for milk. Over the next four or five years he grew large and strong. He was much afraid of the whip; at the sight of it he would flee in terror. When his master rode him, he was covered with a saddle-cloth and reined gently, which was not so painful; but when slaves and grooms rode him bare, without saddle or bridle, striking his ribs with both heels, the pain pierced to his heart. In his fury he fasted for three days and died.
Coming to the underworld, the King found that his term of punishment was not yet fulfilled. Rebuking him for evading it, he stripped off his hide and punished him by making him a dog. Sullen and unwilling, he would not go; but the ghosts beat him without mercy, and in agony he fled into the wilds. Thinking death better, he threw himself in a fury from a steep cliff, and fell unable to rise. Looking at himself, he found he was lying in a lair, while a mother dog licked and cherished him; only then he knew he had been reborn in the world of men. As he grew, he knew that ordure was foul, yet it smelled sweet to him, and only by firm resolve did he refrain from eating it. For a year as a dog he was often moved to die of vexation, but feared to be blamed for evasion. And his master, keeping him, would not kill him. So he deliberately bit his master, tearing flesh from his thigh; the master, enraged, had him beaten to death.
The King of Hell examined the case and, angered at his frenzy, gave him several hundred strokes and made him a snake. He was imprisoned in a dark cell where no light came, and in his stifling misery he climbed the wall, broke through the roof, and came out. Looking at himself, he found he was lying in the rank grass, a snake indeed. So he resolved to destroy no living thing, and when hungry swallowed fruit of the trees. After more than a year, he often wished to die but could not; to die by harming another he would not; and a good way to die he could not find. One day, lying in the grass, he heard a cart pass, and darted out into the road. The cart rolled over him, crushing him in two.
The King of Hell was surprised that he had returned so soon, and the snake crept forward and confessed. The King, seeing that he had been killed without fault, forgave him and allowed him, when his term was fulfilled, to become a man again—and this was Licentiate Liu. Liu could speak from birth; whatever books and histories he saw he could recite at a glance. In the xinyou year he passed the provincial examination. He was always urging others: "When you ride, use a thick saddle-cloth; the clamp of the thighs is worse than the whip."
The Historian of the Strange says: "Among creatures with fur and horns there may be found kings and grandees. The reason is that within the kings and grandees themselves there was never lacking one with fur and horns. Hence the lowly do good like one who plants a tree to obtain flowers; the noble do good like one who, having flowers, waters the root. The planter may grow great, the waterer endure long. Otherwise, one must draw the salt-cart, bear the halter and bridle, and be a horse with them. Otherwise, one must eat ordure, suffer the pot and the knife, and be a dog with them. Otherwise, one must wear scales and shell, be buried in the crops of cranes and storks, and be a snake with them."