Prevod

Jiang Ji, whose courtesy name was Zitong, was a native of Ping’a in the state of Chu. He served the state of Wei as General of the Central Army. His wife once dreamed of their dead son, who said to her in tears, “The dead and the living follow different paths. In life I was the son of a high minister; now, beneath the earth, I serve as a bailiff at Mount Tai, worn down by hardships beyond telling. Sun A, a singer west of the Imperial Ancestral Temple, has now been summoned to become Magistrate of Mount Tai. Mother, please tell my father and ask him to speak to Sun A, so that I may be transferred to a more pleasant post.” When he had finished speaking, his mother suddenly awoke with a start. The next day she told Jiang Ji, who said, “Dreams are empty things. There is nothing remarkable in this.” That evening she dreamed of her son again. “I have come to welcome the new magistrate,” he said. “While we are waiting at the temple before setting out, I have been allowed to come home briefly. The new magistrate is to depart tomorrow at noon. There will be much to do before we leave, and I shall have no chance to return. Here I bid you farewell forever. My father is strong-willed and hard to move, so I have brought my plea to you. Please ask him again: what would it cost him to put this to the test just once?” He then described Sun A’s appearance in full detail. At dawn, his mother again appealed to Jiang Ji. “You say there is nothing remarkable in a dream, but how can this be so exact? Since it is so exact, why not test it just once?” Jiang Ji therefore sent someone to the Imperial Ancestral Temple to inquire after Sun A. The man was indeed found, and his appearance matched everything their son had said. Jiang Ji wept. “I nearly failed my son.” He then summoned Sun A and told him the whole story. Sun A was not frightened at the prospect of death, but delighted that he was to become Magistrate of Mount Tai. His only fear was that Jiang Ji’s words might not prove true. “If it is as Your Excellency says,” he replied, “it is just what I would wish. What post would your honored son like?” Jiang Ji said, “Give him whatever post is pleasant in the world below.” Sun A replied, “I shall do as you ask.” Jiang Ji rewarded him generously and, when they had finished speaking, sent him home. Eager to learn promptly whether the dream would come true, Jiang Ji stationed a man every ten paces from the gate of his headquarters to the temple, so that they could relay the news. Between seven and nine in the morning, word came that Sun A had pains in his chest; between nine and eleven, that his condition had worsened; at noon, that he was dead. Jiang Ji said, “Though I grieve for my son’s misfortune, I am glad to know that the dead retain their awareness.” A little over a month later, their son came again and told his mother, “I have now been transferred to the post of records clerk.”