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Xian Chao, courtesy name Yiqi, was an administrative clerk in Jibei Commandery under the Wei. During the Jiaping era, while sleeping alone one night, he dreamed that a divine maiden came to him. She introduced herself: “I am a Jade Maiden of Heaven, originally from Dong Commandery. My surname is Chenggong, and my courtesy name is Zhiqiong. I lost my parents early, and the Heavenly Emperor, pitying my lonely plight, sent me down to marry a mortal.” In his dream, Chao felt his spirit stir in recognition. He marveled at her extraordinary beauty, so unlike that of any mortal woman, and on waking thought of her with longing and reverence. She seemed now present, now gone, and this continued for three or four nights. Then one day she appeared before him in broad daylight, riding in a curtained carriage attended by eight maidservants. She wore patterned silk, gauze, brocade, and embroidered robes; her face and figure were those of a flying immortal. She said she was seventy, but looked like a girl of fifteen or sixteen. In her carriage were flasks and wine vessels, including five sets of blue and white glassware. She brought strange and marvelous foods, set out dishes and sweet wine, and ate and drank with Chao. She told him, “I am a Jade Maiden of Heaven, sent down to marry, and so I have come to you—not because of any virtue of yours. Our destinies were joined long ago, and we are meant to be husband and wife. I can bring you neither advantage nor harm. Yet whenever you travel, you will always have a light carriage and well-fed horses; at your table there will always be delicacies from distant places and unusual dishes; and you will never lack silk for your use. But I am a divine being and cannot bear you children. Nor am I jealous: I shall not stand in the way of your proper marriage to a mortal woman. Let us therefore become husband and wife.” She presented him with a poem, which read: “Drifting, floating, I roam the vast expanse; / Clouds gather, and numinous fungus grows upon the rocks. / A single blossom needs no moistening; / Perfect virtue meets its appointed time. / Can the immortals be moved without cause? / Answering destiny, I come to aid you. / Receive me, and honor shall grace your five clans; / Reject me, and calamity shall follow.” Such was the general tenor of her poem. It ran to more than two hundred words and cannot be recorded here in full. She also supplied a seven-scroll commentary on the Book of Changes, containing hexagrams and images, with judgments forming its framework. Thus its language conveyed principles and meaning, while also allowing one to divine good or ill fortune, much like Master Yang’s Supreme Mystery and Master Xue’s Classic of the Mean. Chao was able to grasp all its essential meanings and used it to interpret omens. They lived as husband and wife for seven or eight years. After his parents arranged a marriage for him, he divided his days of companionship and nights of sleep between the two women. The maiden came at night and left at dawn, moving as swiftly as though she flew. Only Chao could see her; no one else could. Even in a darkened room, others could hear her voice and often see traces of her presence, yet never glimpse her form. Later, people grew curious and questioned him, and he let the secret slip. The Jade Maiden then asked to leave. “I am a divine being,” she said. “Though I have shared your life, I never wished others to know. But you are careless with secrets, and now everything about me has been revealed. I can no longer remain in communion with you. We have been bound together for many years, and our affection and obligations are not slight. How could a sudden parting fail to bring sorrow and regret? Yet circumstances leave us no choice. Let each of us take care!” She called for her attendants to serve wine, and they ate and drank. Then she opened a bamboo chest and took out two sets of figured-silk skirts and jackets to leave with Chao. She also gave him another poem. Holding his arm, she bade him farewell, tears streaming down her face; then, with solemn composure, she mounted her carriage and sped away as if in flight. Chao grieved for days, until he was nearly worn away. Five years after her departure, he was sent to Luoyang on commandery business. When he reached the foot of Mount Yu in Jibei and was traveling west along a country road, he saw in the distance, at a bend in the road, a horse-drawn carriage that looked like Zhiqiong’s. He hurried toward it, and indeed it was hers. Drawing aside the curtain, they met again, overcome by mingled sorrow and joy. He caught hold on the left and grasped the carriage cord, and they rode together to Luoyang. There they resumed their life as husband and wife, restoring their former love. She was still with him during the Taikang era. By then, however, she no longer came every day. She would descend on the third day of the third month, the fifth day of the fifth month, the seventh day of the seventh month, at dawn on the ninth day of the ninth month, and on the fifteenth, staying overnight before departing. Zhang Maoxian composed his “Rhapsody on the Divine Maiden” about her.