A certain Gu of Jinling was skilled in the arts and crafts but extremely poor, and because his mother was old he could not bear to leave her side. He made his living by writing and painting for others. At twenty-five he was still unwed. Opposite his door stood an old empty house, in which an old woman and a young girl lodged; and since there was no man in the family, he had never asked who they were. One day, coming home, he saw the girl coming out of his mother's room. She was about eighteen or nineteen, graceful and refined, such as the world seldom sees; she did not greatly avoid him, but her air was cold and distant. Gu went in and asked his mother. "She is the girl from across the way," she said, "come to borrow my scissors and rule. She told me her household is only herself and her mother. The girl does not look as if she came of a poor family. I asked why she was not married, and she said her mother was old. Tomorrow I shall go and call on her mother, and sound her gently; if her demands are not excessive, you may take her to wife and support her old mother." The next day Gu went to their house and found the mother was but a deaf old woman. Their room held no provision for the morrow; asked how they lived, the old woman said they depended on the girl's ten fingers. Gu gently sounded her about sharing their meals; the old woman seemed willing, but referred the matter to her daughter, who was silent and plainly displeased. So Gu's mother came home, and, thinking over the girl's manner, said to her son, "Is the girl perhaps ashamed of our poverty? She neither speaks nor smiles; as fair as peach-blossom and as cold as frost—a strange creature!" And mother and son wondered and gave it up.
One day, as Gu sat in his study, a young man came to ask for a painting. He was very handsome, but with a lewd and frivolous air. Asked where he came from, he said "the neighboring village." After that he came every two or three days. As they grew familiar he began to jest and banter; Gu embraced him, and finding he did not resist much, took him to bed. From then on they were very intimate. One day the girl happened to pass by, and the young man followed her with his eyes, asking who she was. Gu said she was a neighbor's daughter. "So beautiful," said the young man, "and yet so forbidding in her manner!" After a while Gu went in, and his mother said, "The girl came just now to beg some rice, saying they had not cooked for a day. She is a most dutiful daughter, and her poverty is pitiable; you should give her a little help." Gu did as his mother bade, carrying a peck of rice to their door and giving her his mother's message. The girl received it without a word of thanks. From then on she came every day to Gu's house, and, seeing his mother at her sewing, would take the needlework from her and do it, coming and going about the rooms and working like a daughter-in-law. Gu was the more grateful. Whenever he received gifts of food he shared them with the old woman, and the girl made no remark. It happened that his mother got an abscess in a private part and cried out day and night. The girl came to her bedside and washed and dressed the sore, three or four times a day. His mother could not be easy under this, but the girl never shrank from the filth. "Alas!" said his mother, "how I wish I had a daughter-in-law like you to care for me till I die!" and she sobbed. "Your son is a most dutiful son," said the girl, comforting her, "worth a hundred widowed mothers and orphan girls like me." "The services one needs at the bedside," said his mother, "are not for a filial son to perform. And I am far gone in years; every day may bring the mist and dew of death, and what I grieve for is the continuation of our line." As she spoke, Gu came in, and his mother said, weeping, "We are much beholden to the young lady; do not forget to repay her kindness." Gu bowed to her. "You honor my mother," said the girl; "I owe you no thanks; why should you thank me?" So his esteem for her grew; but her manner was stiff, and nothing could be taken with her.
One day, as the girl went out of the door, Gu's eyes followed her, and she suddenly turned and smiled at him. Overjoyed beyond expectation, he hurried after her to her house and made advances, which she did not refuse; and they lay together with delight. When it was done, she cautioned him: "Such things may be done once, but never twice." Gu made no answer and went home. The next day he tried to arrange a meeting, but the girl, with a stern face, would not look at him and went away. She still came often, and when they met gave him no word nor look of kindness; if he jested with her a little, she returned cold words that froze him. Suddenly, in a quiet spot, she asked Gu, "Who is that young man who comes so often of late?" Gu told her. "In his bearing and manner," she said, "he has been insolent to me many times. But because of your intimacy with him I have said nothing. Tell him from me: if he does it again, he does not wish to live!" That evening Gu told the young man, adding, "You must be careful; she is not to be trifled with!" "If she is not to be trifled with," said the young man, "how is it you trifle with her in private?" Gu denied it. "If you do not," said the young man, "how came the foul words to reach your ears?" Gu could not answer. "Tell her, too, from me," said the young man, "not to make a show of coyness; if she does, I will publish it abroad." Gu was very angry, and his anger showed in his face, and the young man went away. One evening, as Gu sat alone, the girl came suddenly. "Our bond of love is not yet broken," she said, smiling; "surely it is Heaven's will." Gu, wild with joy, clasped her in his arms, when they heard a rustle of footsteps, and starting up, saw the young man pushing open the door. "What are you here for?" asked Gu in surprise. "I have come to see a chaste lady," he laughed, and turning to the girl, "Do you not scold people today?" The girl's brows rose and her cheeks flushed; without a word she flung open her coat and revealed a leather satchel from which she drew a glittering dagger more than a foot long. At the sight the young man recoiled in terror and fled. She pursued him out of the door, but he was gone in all directions. The girl flung the dagger into the air; it made a ringing sound and flashed like a rainbow, and something fell to the ground with a thud. Gu brought a candle hastily and saw a white fox with its head and body severed. He was greatly alarmed. "This is your pretty boy," said the girl. "I forgave him readily enough, but he would have it so—he would not live!" She put the dagger back in its sheath. Gu pulled her in. "That demon spoiled my pleasure," he said; "let it wait for tomorrow night." She went out and left him. The next night the girl came and they passed the time in dalliance. Gu asked her about her art. "That is not for you to know," she said. "Keep it secret; if it were known, it might not be well for you." Gu spoke of marriage. "We have shared the pillow and the quilt, and I have drawn the water and boiled the rice," she said. "What is that but a wife? We are husband and wife already; why speak of marriage again?" "Do you despise me for my poverty?" asked Gu. "You are poor," she said; "am I rich? I meet you here because I pity your poverty." As she left she warned him, "An illicit affair must not be repeated. When I should come, I come of myself; when I should not, it is vain to force me." Afterwards, whenever they met, if Gu would have drawn her aside to speak, she always avoided him. Yet his torn clothes and his firewood she mended and provided for as if she were his wife.
Months passed and her mother died, and Gu buried her with all his might. From then on the girl lived alone. Gu thought that since she was alone he might seduce her, and climbed the wall; but though he called through the window again and again there was no answer. He looked at her door and found the empty room locked. He suspected she had some other appointment. He went again at night with the same result. So he left a jade pendant on the window-sill and went away. The next day they met at his mother's; and when he came out the girl followed him and said, "Do you suspect me? Every heart has its own secrets, which cannot be told. How, then, can I make you trust me? But there is one thing I must ask you to do for me, and at once." Asked what it was, she said, "I have been with child eight months, and may be brought to bed at any time. I can bear the child for you, but I cannot rear it. Tell your mother secretly to find a wet-nurse and pretend to be adopting a foundling; do not say it is mine." Gu promised and told his mother, who laughed. "A strange girl!" she said. "She would not be married, and yet she would be my son's mistress." But she was glad, and followed the plan, making ready. Another month passed, and the girl did not come for some days; his mother, growing uneasy, went to her door and found it shut and silent. She knocked long, and at last the girl came out, with disheveled hair and dirty face. She let her in, then locked the door again. In the room, crying on the bed, lay an infant. "How long has it been born?" asked his mother in surprise. "Three days," the girl answered. She lifted the swaddling clothes and saw it was a boy, with a full round face and a broad forehead. "The child is your grandson already," she said to the girl, "but you are all alone—what is to be done with him?" "It is a secret I cannot unfold to you yet," said the girl. "Tonight, when all is quiet, you may take the child away." His mother returned and told her son, and both marveled privately. At night she went and brought the child home.
Some nights later, about midnight, the girl knocked at the door and came in, carrying a leather bag. "My great business is done," she said, smiling, "and I have come to bid you farewell." Asked what she meant, she said, "Your kindness to my mother I have never forgotten. When I said 'once, and no more,' it was because my return was not to be made in the marriage-bed. As you were too poor to marry, I meant to continue your line for you. I hoped to conceive at the first embrace, but the monthly flow came again, and so I was forced to break my rule a second time. Now your kindness is repaid and my wish fulfilled; I have nothing left to regret." "What is in your bag?" asked Gu. "Avengeful head," she said. He opened it and saw a face with matted hair and beard, all covered with blood. He was shocked beyond measure and pressed her for the story. "I did not tell you before," she said, "because if secrets are not kept they leak out. Now that it is done, I may tell you. I am a woman of Zhejiang. My father was a Secretary of War, who fell into the hands of an enemy who confiscated his estates. I carried my old mother away, hid my name, and buried my identity for three years. The reason I did not take vengeance at once was that my mother was still living; then, when she died, there was the child in my womb, and so I delayed again. The other night I went out for no other reason than that I did not yet know the roads and the gates, and feared some mistake." With that she went out, but turned to say, "Take good care of the child you have. Your fortune is thin and your life short, but this son will bring honor to your house. It is late; do not disturb my old mother. I am going." Gu, sorrowful, would have asked whither, but with a flash like lightning she vanished and was seen no more. Gu stood as one turned to wood, his soul gone. He told his mother the next day, and they marveled together. Three years later Gu indeed died. His son, at eighteen, passed the highest examination, and supported his grandmother to the end of her days. The Historian of the Strange remarks: "A man must have a chivalrous woman in his house before he may keep a catamite. Otherwise, while he loves his boar, she will love his sow!"