Prevod

Fuchai, King of Wu, had a younger daughter named Ziyu. At eighteen, she was gifted and beautiful. A young man named Han Zhong, nineteen years of age, was versed in the arts of the Way. The princess fell in love with him, and through secret exchanges of messages pledged to become his wife. Zhong was going to study in the lands of Qi and Lu, and before leaving he charged his parents to seek her hand for him. The king was furious and refused. Yu died of grief and was buried outside Chang Gate. Three years later, Zhong returned and questioned his parents. They told him, “The king flew into a rage. Yu died of grief and has already been buried.” Zhong wept in anguish, then prepared sacrificial offerings and silk and went to mourn before her tomb. Yu’s spirit came out of the grave. Seeing Zhong, she shed tears and said, “After you left, you had your parents ask the king for my hand. I thought surely our dearest wish would be fulfilled. I never dreamed that such a fate would befall me after we parted. What can be done now?” Then Yu looked to her left, bent her graceful neck, and sang: “On the southern hill there is a crow; on the northern hill a net is spread. The crow has flown high into the sky—what can the net do now? I longed to follow you, but slanderous tongues were many. Grief gathered and made me ill; my life ended beneath the yellow earth. Fortune dealt unkindly with me—what remedy is there for such wrong? The noblest of feathered creatures is called the phoenix. Once she loses her mate, she mourns for three years. Though birds abound, she takes none for her companion. And so I revealed my humble self and met your radiant presence. Though our bodies are far apart, our hearts are close; how could I forget you, even for a moment?” When her song was done, she sobbed and wept, and invited Zhong to return with her into the tomb. Zhong said, “The dead and the living follow different paths. I fear I might commit some wrong and dare not accept.” Yu said, “I too know that the dead and the living follow different paths. But if we part now, we shall never meet again. Do you fear that, being a ghost, I would harm you? I wish only to fulfill the pledge I made. Can you not trust me?” Moved by her words, Zhong accompanied her back into the tomb. Yu feasted and drank with him, keeping him there for three days and three nights, and they fulfilled all the intimacies of husband and wife. As he was about to leave, she gave him a lustrous pearl an inch across and said, “My good name has been ruined, and my hopes cut short. What more is there to say? Take good care of yourself through the changing seasons. If you go to my home, convey my respects to the king.” After Zhong emerged, he went to the king and related what had happened. The king flew into a rage. “My daughter is dead, yet Zhong fabricates these lies to defile her departed spirit! He has merely broken into her tomb and stolen its treasures, then used ghosts and spirits as his excuse.” He ordered Zhong’s immediate arrest. Zhong escaped and fled to Yu’s tomb, where he told her of his plight. Yu said, “Do not worry. I shall go home now and explain to the king.” The king was at his toilette when Yu suddenly appeared. Astonished, torn between sorrow and joy, he asked, “How have you come back to life?” Yu knelt and said, “When the young scholar Han Zhong came to seek my hand, Your Majesty refused him. My good name was ruined and our bond severed, and so I brought about my own death. Zhong returned from afar and learned that I was dead. He therefore brought sacrificial offerings and silk to mourn at my tomb. Moved by his devotion, I at last appeared to him and gave him the pearl. He did not break into my tomb. I beg you not to prosecute him.” Hearing her, the queen came out and clasped her in her arms. But Yu was like smoke.