The Grand Minister of War of Xincheng had a steward who was a man of comfortable wealth. One night he dreamed a man rushed in and said, "You owe me forty thousand cash; now you should repay it." Asked who he was, the man made no answer but went straight into the inner room. When he woke, his wife gave birth to a son. Knowing it was a debt from a former life, he bundled up forty thousand cash and stored them in a room, and from them were drawn the child's food, clothing, medicine, and all his needs. When the child was three or four years old, the money in the room had dwindled to seven hundred. It chanced that a wet-nurse brought the boy in and was playing and laughing with him, when the steward called out, "The forty thousand is nearly spent—you should be going now!" At the words the child's face changed, his neck bent, and his eyes started wide; when they felt him again, he had stopped breathing. So with the remaining money they bought a coffin and buried him. This may serve as a warning to debtors.
Once an old man, childless, asked a great monk about it. The monk said, "You owe no man, and no man owes you. How can you have a son?" For the birth of a good son is to repay the kindness of the parents, and the birth of a bad son is to collect a debt owed to the parents. Let not the living rejoice nor the dead grieve.