A man surnamed Xu lived in the northern suburb of Zi County and made his living by fishing. Every night he carried wine to the river, drinking and fishing at once. When he drank, he would pour wine on the ground and pray, "Let the drowned ghosts of the river drink." This he did as a matter of course. Other men fished and caught nothing, but Xu alone filled his basket.
One night, as he sat drinking alone, a young man came and lingered beside him. Xu offered him wine, and the young man gladly shared it. Through the night they caught not a single fish, to Xu's disappointment. The young man rose and said, "Let me go downstream and drive the fish toward you." With that he went off in a flutter. After a little he returned and said, "The fish are coming." And indeed there came a sound of fish feeding. Xu cast his net and caught several, all over a foot long. Overjoyed, he thanked him again and again. When Xu was about to leave and offered him fish, the young man refused, saying, "I have many times partaken of your good wine; this trifling favor is nothing to mention in return. If you will not reject me, let it be my custom to come." Xu said, "We have been together but one night—how can you speak of many times? If you will come often, I should be most glad; only I am ashamed I have nothing with which to repay your kindness." Asked his name, the young man said, "My surname is Wang, and I have no style-name. When we meet, you may call me Wang Liulang." And they parted. The next day Xu sold his fish for even more profit and bought wine. In the evening he came to the riverbank, and the young man was already there, so they drank joyfully together. After a few cups the young man drove fish for Xu as before. Thus half a year passed, until one day he said suddenly to Xu, "In making your acquaintance I have enjoyed a friendship dearer than flesh and blood, yet the day of parting has come." He spoke most mournfully. Astonished, Xu pressed him, and after hesitating twice he said, "Since our friendship is such as ours, will you be alarmed if I speak? As we are about to part, let me tell you plainly: I am in truth a ghost. I was always fond of wine, and drowned here in a drunken stupor several years ago. That you alone among all fishermen fill your basket—this has been my secret driving of the fish, to repay your offerings of wine. Tomorrow my term of punishment is fulfilled; a substitute is due, and I shall go to be reborn. We can be together only this night, and so I cannot but be moved." At first Xu was startled, but having grown familiar with him so long, he was no longer afraid. He too sighed and, pouring wine, said, "Drink, Liulang, and be not sorrowful. That we meet and part so soon is indeed grievous. Yet when one's term is done and the calamity passed, that is a thing to congratulate, not to mourn." So they drank freely together. Then Xu asked, "Who is to be the substitute?" The young man said, "Watch by the river, and at noon you will see a woman crossing who is drowned—she is the one." When the village cock crowed, they parted in tears. The next day Xu waited respectfully by the river to witness the marvel. Sure enough, a woman came carrying an infant, and as she reached the river she fell in. The child was tossed onto the bank, kicking and crying. The woman sank and floated many times, until at last, dripping wet, she climbed the bank, rested a moment on the ground, and walked away with her child. When the woman was drowning, Xu's heart was sorely moved and he thought of rushing to save her; but he reflected that she was the one to replace Liulang, so he held back and did not save her. When the woman came out by herself, he doubted the truth of the young man's words. That evening he went to the old fishing spot, and the young man came again, saying, "Tonight we are together again, and we need not speak of parting." Asked why, he replied, "The woman had indeed come as a substitute; but I pitied the infant in her arms. To save myself by one and so destroy two lives—that I could not do. Who knows when another substitute will come. Perhaps our fate is not yet spent." Xu sighed and said, "This is a kind and humane heart, one that can reach the very throne of God." From that time they met again as before.
A few days later he came once more to say farewell, and Xu suspected he had found another substitute. "No," he said. "My former single thought of compassion did indeed reach Heaven. Now I am appointed tutelary god of Wu Village in Zhaoyuan County, and I go to assume the post tomorrow. If you do not forget our old friendship, you should pay me a visit—do not fear the distance and difficulty." Xu congratulated him, saying, "That you, being upright, are made a god is very comforting to the heart. But the ways of men and gods are sundered; even were I not to fear the distance, what could come of it?" "Only go, and do not worry," said the young man, and with many admonitions he went away. Xu returned home and at once wished to pack for the east, but his wife laughed, saying, "It is several hundred li from here; even if the place exists, I fear a clay idol can hold no converse with you." Xu paid no heed and reached Zhaoyuan at last. Asking the inhabitants, he found there was indeed a Wu Village. He found the place and rested at an inn, asking where the shrine was. The innkeeper started and asked, "Are you by any chance surnamed Xu?" "Yes," said Xu. "How did you know?" The innkeeper asked again, "And are you by any chance from Zi County?" "Yes," said Xu. "How did you know?" The innkeeper made no answer but hurried out. Presently men with children in their arms and women peeping from their doors came crowding in a throng, ringed round like a wall. Xu was all the more astonished. They told him, "Some nights ago the god appeared to us in a dream, saying: 'My friend Xu of Zichuan is coming; you may help him with traveling money.' We have waited for you long." Xu found this strange too, and went to offer sacrifice at the shrine, praying, "Since parting from you, I have thought of you waking and sleeping, and have come far to fulfill our old promise. You were also good enough to appear to the villagers in a dream, and I am deeply grateful. Ashamed to offer only a cup of wine, I trust you will not despise it; let us drink together as we did by the river." When he had prayed, he burned paper money. Presently a wind rose behind the shrine, whirled about for a while, and dispersed. That night he dreamed the young man came, in elegant robes and cap, very unlike his wont, and thanked him, saying, "You have taken the trouble to come far to see me, and joy and tears come together. But holding this mean office, I cannot meet you face to face; though the distance is but a span, the mountains and rivers are heavy on my heart. The villagers have made you a modest gift, a small return for our old friendship. When you set out homeward, I shall still come to see you off." After a few days Xu wished to return, but the villagers pressed him to stay, inviting him morning and evening, changing hosts many times a day. Xu firmly declined and prepared to leave. Then they folded letters and bundles, vying to bring him parting gifts, until in less than a morning his satchel was overflowing. Old servants and little children all gathered to see him off. When he left the village, a whirlwind suddenly arose and followed him for more than ten li. Xu bowed twice and said, "Farewell, Liulang; do not trouble to travel far. Your heart is kind and humane, and you will surely bring blessings to all your region—there is no need of your old friend's advice." The wind circled about for a long time and then departed. The villagers, sighing in wonder, returned home.
Xu, on returning, was somewhat better off and no longer fished. Later, meeting men from Zhaoyuan, he asked after the god and was told that his responses were swift as an echo. Some say the place is Shikeng Village in Zhangqiu. It is not known which is right. The Historian of the Strange says: "He who, being raised to the clouds, does not forget the days of poverty—this is why he became a god. Do the noble gentlemen riding in carriages today still remember the man with the straw hat? In my village there was a retired man, very poor. An old playmate of his childhood held a lucrative post, and he thought that if he went to him he would surely be helped. He strained every resource to equip himself, traveled a thousand li, and was utterly disappointed. Only by emptying his purse and selling his horse could he get home. His younger cousin, a witty fellow, made a mock almanac about him: 'In this month the elder brother arrives; the sable cap is taken off, the umbrella is not unfurled, the horse turns into a donkey, and the boots begin to fall silent.' Recalling this can make one laugh."