The Beautiful Daughter of Liu-Kung
by J. Macgowan
In one of the central provinces of this long-lived Empire of
China, there lived in very early times a man of the name of Chan. He was a
person of a bright, active nature which made him enjoy life, and caused him to
be popular amongst his companions and a favourite with every one who knew him.
But he was also a scholar, well-versed in the literature of his country, and he
spent every moment that he could spare in the study of the great writings of the
famous men of former days.
In order that he might be interrupted as little as possible in
his pursuit of learning, he engaged a room in a famous monastery some miles away
from his own home. The only inhabitants of this monastery were a dozen or so of
Buddhist priests, who, except when they were engaged in the daily services of
the temple, lived a quiet, humdrum, lazy kind of existence which harmonized well
with the solitude and the majestic stillness of the mountain scenery by which
they were surrounded.
This monastery was indeed one of the most beautiful in China. It
was situated on the slope of a hill, looking down upon a lovely valley, where
the natural solitude was as complete as the most devoted hermit could desire.
The only means of getting to it were the narrow hill footpaths along which the
worshippers from the great city and the scattered villages wound in and out on
festal days, when they came trooping to the temple to make their offerings to
the famous God enshrined within.
Chan was a diligent student, and rarely indulged in recreation
of any kind. Occasionally, when his mind became oppressed with excessive study
he would go for a quiet walk along the hillside; but these occasions were few
and far between, for he made up for every hour he spent away from his beloved
books by still closer application to them in the hours that followed.
One day he was strolling in an aimless kind of way on the
hillside, when suddenly a party of hunters from the neighbouring city of Eternal
Spring came dashing into view. They were a merry group and full of excitement,
for they had just sighted a fox which Chan had seen a moment before flying away
at its highest speed in mortal dread of its pursuers.
Prominent amongst the hunters was a young girl, who was mounted
on a fiery little steed, so full of spirit and so eager to follow in the mad
chase after the prey, that its rider seemed to have some difficulty in
restraining it. The girl herself was a perfect picture. Her face was the
loveliest that Chan had ever looked upon, and her figure, which her trim hunting
dress showed off to the utmost advantage, was graceful in the extreme. As she
swept by him with her face flushed with excitement and her features all aglow
with health, Chan felt at once that he had lost his heart and that he was deeply
and profoundly in love with her.
On making enquiries, he found that she was named Willow, that
she was the daughter of the chief mandarin of the town in which she lived, and
that she was intensely fond of the chase and delighted in galloping over the
hills and valleys in the pursuit of the wild animals to be found there. So
powerfully had Chan's mind been affected by what he had seen of Willow, that he
had already begun to entertain serious thoughts of making her his wife; but
while his mind was full of this delightful prospect he was plunged into the
deepest grief by hearing that she had suddenly died. For some days he was so
stricken with sorrow that he lost all interest in life, and could do nothing but
dwell on the memory of her whom he had come to love with all the devotion of his
A few weeks after the news of her death, the quiet of the
retreat was one day broken by a huge procession which wound its way along the
mountain path leading to the monastery doors. On looking out, Chan saw that many
of the men in this procession were dressed in sackcloth, and that in front of it
was a band of musicians producing weird, shrill notes on their various
By these signs Chan knew that what he saw was a funeral, and he
expected to see the long line of mourners pass on to some spot on the hillside
where the dead would be buried. Instead of that, however, they entered through
the great gates of the monastery, and the coffin, the red pall of which told him
that it contained the body of a woman, was carried into an inner room of the
building and laid on trestles that had been made ready for it.
After the mourners had dispersed, Chan asked one of the priests
the name of the woman who had died, and how it was that the coffin was laid
within the precincts of the temple instead of in the house of the deceased,
where it could be looked after by her relatives and where the customary
sacrifices to the spirit of the dead could be offered more conveniently than in
The bonze replied that this was a peculiar case, calling for
"The father of the poor young girl who died so suddenly," he
said, "was the mandarin of the neighbouring city of Eternal Spring. Just after
the death of his daughter an order came from the Emperor transferring him to
another district, a thousand miles from here.
"The command was very urgent that he should proceed without
delay to take up his post in the far-off province, and that he was to allow
nothing to hinder him from doing so. He could not carry his daughter's body with
him on so long a journey, and no time was permitted him to take the coffin to
his home, where she might be buried amongst her own kindred. It was equally
impossible to deposit the coffin in the yamen he was about to leave, for the new
mandarin who was soon to arrive would certainly object to have the body of a
stranger in such close proximity to his family. It might bring him bad luck, and
his career as an official might end in disaster.
"Permission was therefore asked from our abbot to allow the
coffin to be placed in one of our vacant rooms, until the father some day in the
future can come and bear the body of his beloved daughter to the home of his
ancestors, there to be laid at rest amongst his own people.
"This request was readily granted, for whilst he was in office
the mandarin showed us many favours, and his daughter was a beautiful girl who
was beloved by everyone; and so we were only too glad to do anything in our
power to help in this unhappy matter."
Chan was profoundly moved when he realized that the woman whom
he had loved as his own life lay dead within a chamber only a few steps away
from his own. His passion, instead of being crushed out of his heart by the
thought that she was utterly beyond his reach, and by no possibility could ever
be more to him than a memory, seemed to grow in intensity as he became conscious
that it was an absolutely hopeless one.
On that very same evening, about midnight, when silence rested
on the monastery, and the priests were all wrapped in slumber, Chan, with a
lighted taper in his hand, stole with noiseless footsteps along the dark
passages into the chamber of death where his beloved lay. Kneeling beside the
coffin with a heart full of emotion, in trembling accents he called upon Willow
to listen to the story of his passion.
He spoke to her just as though she were standing face to face
with him, and he told her how he had fallen in love with her on the day on which
he had caught a glimpse of her as she galloped in pursuit of the fox that had
fled through the valley from the hunters. He had planned, he told her, to make
her his wife, and he described, in tones through which the tears could be heard
to run, how heart-broken he was when he heard of her death.
"I want to see you," he continued, "for I feel that I cannot
live without you. You are near to me, and yet oh! how far away. Can you not come
from the Land of Shadows, where you are now, and comfort me by one vision of
your fair face, and one sound of the voice that would fill my soul with the
For many months the comfort of Chan's life was this nightly
visit to the chamber where his dead love lay. Not a single night passed without
his going to tell her of the unalterable and undying affection that filled his
heart; and whilst the temple lay shrouded in darkness, and the only sounds that
broke the stillness were those inexplicable ones in which nature seems to
indulge when man is removed by sleep from the scene, Chan was uttering those
love notes which had lain deeply hidden within his soul, but which now in the
utter desolation of his heart burst forth to ease his pain by their mere
One night as he was sitting poring over his books, he happened
to turn round, and was startled to see the figure of a young girl standing just
inside the door of his room. It seemed perfectly human, and yet it was so
ethereal that it had the appearance of a spirit of the other world. As he looked
at the girl with a wondering gaze, a smile lit up her beautiful features, and he
then discovered to his great joy that she was none other than Willow, his lost
love whom he had despaired of ever seeing again.
With her face wreathed in smiles, she sat down beside him and
said in a timid, modest way:—"I am here to-night in response to the great love
which has never faltered since the day I died. That is the magnet which has had
the power of drawing me from the Land of Shadows. I felt it there, and many
speak about it in that sunless country. Even Yam-lo, the lord of the spirits of
that dreary world, has been moved by your unchanging devotion; so much so that
he has given me permission to come and see you, in order that I might tell you
how deeply my heart is moved by the profound affection that you have exhibited
for me all these months during which you never had any expectation of its being
For many months this sweet intercourse between Chan and his
beloved Willow was carried on, and no one in the whole monastery knew anything
of it. The interviews always took place about midnight, and Willow, who seemed
to pass with freedom through closed doors or the stoutest walls, invariably
vanished during the small hours of the morning.
One evening whilst they were conversing on topics agreeable to
them both, Willow unburdened her heart to Chan, and told him how unhappy she was
in the world of spirits.
"You know," she said, "that before I died I was not married, and
so I am only a wandering spirit with no place where I can rest, and no friends
to whom I can betake myself. I travel here and there and everywhere, feeling
that no one cares for me, and that there are no ties to bind me to any
particular place or thing. For a young girl like me, this is a very sad and
sorrowful state of things.
"There is another thing that adds to my sorrow in the Land of
Shadows," she went on to say, with a mournful look on her lovely countenance. "I
was very fond of hunting when I was in my father's home, and many a wild animal
was slain in the hunting expeditions in which I took an active part. This has
all told against me in the world in which I am now living, and for the share I
took in destroying life I have to suffer by many pains and penalties which are
hard for me to endure.
"My sin has been great," she said, "and so I wish to make
special offerings in this temple to the Goddess of Mercy and implore her to send
down to the other world a good report of me to Yam-lo, and intercede with him to
forgive the sins of which I have been guilty. If you will do this for me, I
promise that after I have been born again into the world I will never forget
you, and if you like to wait for me I shall willingly become your wife and serve
you with the deepest devotion of which my heart is capable, as long as Heaven
will permit you and me to live together as husband and wife."
From this time, much to the astonishment of the priests in the
monastery, Chan began to show unwonted enthusiasm for the service of the
Goddess, and would sometimes spend hours before her image and repeat long
prayers to her. This was all the more remarkable, as the scholar had rarely if
ever shown any desire to have anything to do with the numerous gods which were
enshrined in various parts of the temple.
After some months of this daily appeal to the Goddess of Mercy,
Willow informed him that his prayers had been so far successful that the misery
of her lot in the Land of Shadows had been greatly mitigated. The pleadings of
the Goddess with Yam-lo had so influenced his heart towards Willow that she
believed her great sin in the destruction of animal life had been forgiven, and
there were signs that the dread ruler of the Underworld was looking upon her
Chan was delighted with this news, and his prayers and offerings
became still more frequent and more fervent. He little dreamed that his devotion
to the Goddess would be the means of his speedy separation from Willow, but so
it was. One evening she came as usual to see him, but instead of entering with
smiling face and laughter in her eyes, she was weeping bitterly as though she
were in the direst sorrow.
Chan was in the greatest distress when he saw this and asked her
to explain the reason for her grief. "The reason for my tears," she said, "is
because after this evening I shall not see you again. Your petitions to the
Goddess have had such a powerful effect upon her mind that she has used all her
influence with Yam-lo to induce him to set me free from the misery of the Land
of Shadows, and so I am to leave that sunless country and to be born again into
life in this upper world."
As she uttered these words her tears began to flow once more and
her whole frame was convulsed with sobbing.
"I am glad," she said, "that I am to be born once more and live
amongst men, but I cannot bear the thought of having to be separated for so long
from you. Let us not grieve too much, however. It is our fate, and we may not
rebel against it. Yam-lo has been kinder to me than he has ever been to any one
in the past, for he has revealed to me the family into which I am to be born and
the place where they live, so if you come to me in eighteen years you will find
me waiting for you. Your love has been so great that it has entered into my very
soul, and there is nothing that can ever efface it from my heart. A thousand
re-births may take place, but never shall I love any one as I love you."
Chan professed that he was greatly comforted by this confession
of her love, but all the same he felt in despair when he thought of the future.
"When next I shall see you," he said with a sigh, "I shall be
getting so old that you, a young girl in the first flush of womanhood, will not
care to look at me. My hair will have turned grey and my face will be marked
with wrinkles, and in the re-birth you will have forgotten all that took place
in the Land of Shadows, and the memory of me will have vanished from your heart
Willow looked with loving but sorrowful eyes upon her lover as
he was expressing his concern about the future, but quickly assured him that
nothing in the world would ever cause her to cease to remember him with the
"In order to comfort you," she said, "let me tell you of two
things that the dread Yam-lo, out of consideration for your love for me, has
granted me—two things which he has never bestowed upon any other mortal who has
come within the region of his rule. The first is, he has allowed me to inspect
the book of Life and Death, in which is recorded the history of every human
being, with the times of their re-births and the places in which they are to be
born. I want you this very minute to write down the secret which has been
revealed to me as to my new name and family and the place where I shall reside,
so that you will have no difficulty in finding me, when eighteen years hence you
shall come to claim me as your wife.
"The next is a gift so precious that I have no words in which to
express my gratitude for its having been bestowed upon me. It is this. I am
given the privilege of not forgetting what has taken place during my stay in the
Land of Shadows, and so when I am re-born into another part of China, with a new
father and mother, I shall hold within my memory my recollection of you. The
years will pass quickly, for I shall be looking for you, and this day eighteen
years hence will be the happiest in my life, for it will bring you to me never
more to be separated from me.
"But I must hasten on," she hurriedly exclaimed, "for the
footsteps of fate are moving steadily towards me. In a few minutes the gates of
Hades will have closed against me, and Willow will have vanished, and I shall be
a babe once more with my new life before me. See, but a minute more is left me,
and I seem to have so much to say. Farewell! Never forget me! I shall ever
remember you, but my time is come!"
As she uttered these words, a smile of ineffable sweetness
flashed across, her beautiful face, and she was gone.
Chan was inexpressibly sad at the loss he had sustained by the
re-birth of Willow, and in order to drive away his sorrow he threw his heart and
soul into his studies. His books became his constant companions, and he tried to
find in them a solace for the loneliness which had come upon him since the
visits of Willow had ceased. He also became a diligent worshipper of the idols,
and especially of the Goddess of Mercy, who had played such an important part in
the history of his beloved Willow.
The years went slowly by, and Chan began to feel that he was
growing old. His hair became dashed with silver threads, and wrinkles appeared
in his forehead and under his eyes. The strain of waiting for the one woman who
had taken complete possession of his heart had been too much for him. As the
time drew near, too, when he should go to meet her, a great and nervous dread
began to fill him with anxiety. Would she recognize him? And would she, a young
girl of eighteen, be content to accept as a husband a man so advanced in years
as he now was? These questions were constantly flashing through his brain.
At last only a few months remained before he was to set out on
his journey to the distant province where Yam-lo had decided that Willow was to
begin her new life on earth.
He was sitting one evening in his study, brooding over the great
problem that would be solved before long, when a man dressed in black silently
entered the room. Looking on Chan with a kindly smile which seemed to find its
way instantly to his heart, he informed him that he was a fairy from the Western
Heaven and that he had been specially deputed by the rulers there to render him
all the assistance in his power at this particular crisis, when they knew his
heart was so full of anxiety.
"We have all heard in that far-off fairyland," he continued, "of
the devotion you have shown to Willow, and how during all the years which have
intervened since you saw her last you have never faltered in your love for her.
Such affection is rare among mortals, and the dwellers in fairyland would like
to help in bringing together two such loving hearts; for let me assure you that
however strong your feeling for the one whom you are so anxious to see again,
she on her part is just as deeply in love with you, and is now counting the days
until she will be able to see you and until you need never again be parted from
each other. In order to assist in this happy consummation, I want you to take a
short trip with me. It will only take a few hours, and you will then find that
something has happened to remove all your fears as to how you will be received
The fairy man then led Chan to the door, and gave a wave of his
hand in the direction of the sky. Instantly the sound of the fluttering and
swish of wings was heard, and in a moment a splendid eagle landed gracefully at
their feet. Taking their seats upon its back, they found themselves flashing at
lightning speed away through the darkness of the night. Higher and higher they
rose, till they had pierced the heavy masses of clouds which hung hovering in
the sky. Swift as an arrow the eagle still cleft its way upward until the clouds
had vanished to an infinite distance below them; and still onward they were
borne in the mighty stillness of an expanse where no human being had ever
Chan felt his heart throb with a nervousness which he could not
control. What if the bird should tire, he thought, and he should be dropped into
the fathomless abyss below? Life's journey would then come to a tragic end.
Where, too, was he being carried and how should he be ever able to return to his
far-off home on the earth? He was becoming more and more agitated, when the
fairy took hold of his hand and in a voice which at once stilled his fears,
assured him that there was not the least danger in this journey through the air.
"We are as safe here," he assured him, "as though we were
standing upon a mountain whose roots lie miles below the surface of the earth.
And see," he continued, pointing to something in the distance, "we shall arrive
at our destination in the course of a few seconds."
True enough, he had hardly finished speaking when a land, fairer
than Chan had ever seen on earth or pictured in imagination, loomed up suddenly
in front of them; and before he could gather together his astonished thoughts,
the eagle had landed them on its shores, and with outspread wings was soaring
into the mystery of the unknown beyond.
The fairy now led Chan along a road surrounded by the most
bewildering beauty. Rare flowers, graceful trees, and birds which made the
groves resound with the sweetest music, were objects that kept his mind in one
continual state of delight. Before long they arrived in front of a magnificent
palace, so grand and vast that Chan felt afraid to enter within its portals, or
even tread the avenue leading up to it.
Once more his companion relieved Chan's anxiety by assuring him
that he was an expected guest, and that the Queen of this fairy country had sent
him to earth specially to invite him to come and visit her, in order that she
might bestow upon him a blessing which would enrich the whole of his life and
would enable him to spend many happy years with her whom he had loved with such
Chan was ushered into a large reception hall, where he was met
by a very stately lady, with a face full of benevolence, whom he at once
recognized, from the images he had often worshipped, as the Goddess of Mercy. He
was startled when he discovered in what august presence he was standing, and
began to tremble with excitement as he realized that here in actual life was the
famous personage whose image was worshipped by the millions of China, and whose
influence spread even into the Land of Shadows.
Seeing Chan's humility and evident terror of her, the Goddess
spoke to him in a gentle, loving voice, and told him to have no fear, for she
had summoned him to her presence not to rebuke but to comfort him.
"I know your story," she said, "and I think it is a beautiful
one. Before I was raised to the high position I now occupy I was at one time a
woman like Willow, and I can sympathize with her in her devotion to you because
of the wonderful love you have shown her from the first moment that you saw her.
"I know, too, your anxiety about your age, and your fear lest
Willow sees you with the marks of advancing years upon you, her love
may die out and you will be left with your heart broken and in despair.
I have foreseen this difficulty, and I am going to have it removed.
"The fairy who brought you here," she continued, "will now take
you round the palace grounds, and if you will carry out my wishes, the fears
which have been troubling you for years shall entirely vanish. You will then
meet Willow with a heart as light as that of any man in the flush of youth, who
awaits the coming of the bridal chair which bears his future wife to his home."
Chan at once, without any hesitation, followed his guide through
the spacious grounds which surrounded the palace, and was finally led to the
edge of a beautiful little lake embowered amongst trees and ferns, and rare and
fragrant flowers. It was the most exquisite scene on which his vision had ever
With a kindly look at his companion, the fairy said, "This
beautiful piece of water goes by the name of the 'Fountain of Eternal Youth,'
and it is the Queen's express desire that you should bathe in it."
Quickly undressing, Chan plunged into the pool and for a moment
sank beneath the surface of the waters. Emerging quickly from them, a delightful
feeling of new-born strength seemed to be creeping in at every pore of his body.
The sense of advancing age passed away, and the years of youth appeared to come
back to him again. He felt as though he were a young man once more; for the
weary doubts, which for some years past had made his footsteps lag, had gone
with his first plunge into those fragrant waters.
By-and-by he came out of this "Fountain of Eternal Youth" with
the visions and ambitions of his young manhood rushing through his brain. His
powers, which seemed of late to have become dull and sluggish, had recovered the
impetus which in earlier years had carried him so successfully through many a
severe examination. His thoughts, too, about Willow had so completely changed
that instead of dreading the day when he should stand before her, his one
passionate desire now was to start upon his journey to keep his appointment with
Chan and the fairy then proceeded to the edge of the vast and
boundless expanse which bordered the palace of the Goddess, and found a
magnificent dragon waiting to convey them back to earth. No sooner had they
taken their seats on its back than it fled with the swiftness of the wind
through the untrodden spaces of the air, until at length the mountains came
looming out of the dim and shadowy distance, and with a rush Chan found himself
safely landed at the door of the temple from which he had taken his departure
for his amazing journey to the Western Heaven.
Whilst these wonderful things were taking place, Willow—or
rather Precious Pearl, as she had been named by her new parents, who of course
had no knowledge of her previous history—had grown up to be a most beautiful and
During all these years she had never ceased to look forward with
an anxious heart to the day when she would once more meet the man to whom she
had betrothed herself eighteen years ago. Latterly she had begun to count the
days that must still elapse before she could see him again. She never forgot the
night in the temple when she bade him "Good-bye" just before she was reborn into
this world. The day and the hour had been stamped upon her memory, and since
then the years had seemed to travel with halting, leaden feet, as though they
were loth to move on. But now only a few months remained, and no doubt ever
entered her brain that Chan would fail her.
Just about this time her mother had an offer of marriage for her
from a very wealthy and distinguished family, and contrary to the usual custom
of mothers in China she asked her daughter what she thought of the proposal.
Pearl was distressed beyond measure, and prayed and entreated her mother on no
account to broach the subject to her again, as she could never entertain any
proposition of the kind.
Amazed at such a statement, her mother begged her to explain her
reason for such strange views. "Girls at your age," she said, "are usually
betrothed and are thinking of having homes of their own. This is the universal
custom throughout the Empire, and therefore there must be some serious reason
why you will not allow me to make arrangements for your being allied to some
Pearl had been feeling that the time was drawing near when she
would have to divulge the secret of her love affair, and she considered that now
was the best opportunity for doing so. To the astonishment therefore of her
mother, who believed that she was romancing, she told her the whole story of the
past; how Chan had fallen in love with her, and how after she had died and had
come under the control of Yam-lo in the Land of Shadows, that dread lord had
permitted her spirit to visit her lover in the temple where her body had been
laid until a lucky resting-place could be found for it on the hillside. She also
explained how it had been agreed between them that she was to wait for him until
after the lapse of eighteen years, when she would be old enough to become his
wife. "In a few months the time will be up," she concluded, "and so I beseech
you not to speak of my being betrothed to any one else, for I feel that if I am
compelled to marry any other than Chan I shall die."
The mother was thunderstruck at this wonderful story which her
daughter told her. She could only imagine that Pearl had in some way or another
been bewitched, and was under a fatal delusion that she was in love with some
hero of romance, to whom she believed she was betrothed. Still, her daughter had
always been most loving and devoted to her, and had shown more brightness and
ability than Chinese girls of her age usually possessed. Her mother did not
like, therefore, to reprove her for what she considered her ridiculous ideas, so
she determined to try another plan to cure her of her folly.
"What age was this man Chan," she asked, "when you entered into
this engagement with him?"
"He was just thirty," Pearl replied. "He was of very good family
and a scholar, and had distinguished himself for his proficiency in the ancient
literature of China."
"Oh! then he must be nearly fifty now. A fine mate he would make
for you, a young girl of only eighteen! But who knows how he may have changed
since last you saw him? His hair must be turning grey, and his teeth may have
fallen out; and for anything you know he may have been dead and buried so long
ago that by this time they have taken up his bones, and nothing is left of him
but what the funeral urn may contain of his ashes."
"Oh! I do pray that nothing of that kind has happened to him,"
cried Pearl, in a tone of voice which showed the anguish she was suffering. "Let
us leave the question for a few months, and then when he comes for me, as I know
he will, you will find by personal knowledge what a splendid man he is, and how
entirely worthy he is of being your son-in-law."
On the day which had been appointed under such romantic
circumstances eighteen years before, Chan arrived in the town, and after taking
a room in an inn and making certain enquiries, he made his way to the home where
he believed that Willow resided. On his arrival, however, he was roughly told by
the servant that no such person as Willow lived there, and that they did not
like strangers coming about the house. Indeed he was given plainly to understand
that the sooner he left, the better everyone would be pleased. This treatment
was of course part of a scheme devised by Pearl's parents to frustrate any plans
that Chan might have formed for seeing her. They were determined not to give
their daughter to a man so old as he must be, and therefore they decided that an
interview between the two must be prevented at all hazards.
Chan was greatly distressed at the rebuff which he had received.
Had Willow after all made a mistake eighteen years ago when she gave him the
name of this town as the place where her new home was to be? He had carefully
written it down at her dictation, and it had been burned into his brain all the
years since. No, there could be no mistake on that point. If there were any,
then it was one that had been made purposely by Yam-lo in order to deceive them
both. That idea, however, was unthinkable, and so there must be something else
to account for his not finding Willow as he had expected. He at once made
enquiries at the inn at which he was staying, and found that there was a
daughter at the very house to which he had gone, and that in almost every
particular the description he was given of her corresponded with his beloved
In the meantime, poor Pearl was in a state of the greatest
anxiety. The eventful day on which she was to meet her lover had opened for her
with keen expectation of meeting him after their long and romantic separation.
She had never for one moment doubted that he would keep his engagement with her.
An instinct which she could not explain made her feel certain that he was still
alive, and that nothing in the world would prevent him from meeting her, as had
been agreed upon between them at that eventful parting in the temple eighteen
As the day wore on, however, and there were no signs of Chan,
Pearl's distress became exceedingly pitiful; and when night came and her mother
declared that nothing had been seen of him, she was so stricken with despair
that she lost all consciousness, and had to be carried to bed, where she lay in
a kind of trance from which, for some time, it seemed impossible to arouse her.
When at last she did regain consciousness, her mother tried to
comfort her by saying that perhaps Chan was dead, or that he had forgotten her
in the long course of years, and that therefore she must not grieve too much.
"You are a young girl," she said, "and you have a long life before you. Chan is
an old man by this time; no doubt he has long ago married, and the home ties
which he has formed have caused him to forget you. But you need not be
broken-hearted on that account. There are many other men who will be more
suitable for you than he could possibly be. By-and-by we shall arrange a
marriage for you, and then life will appear to you very different from what it
Instead of being comforted, however, Pearl was only the more
distressed by her mother's words. Her love, which had begun in the Land of
Shadows, and which had been growing in her heart for the last eighteen years,
was not one to be easily put aside by such plausible arguments as those she had
just listened to. The result was that she had a relapse, and for several days
her life was in great danger.
The father and mother, fearing now that their daughter would
die, determined, as there seemed no other remedy, to bring Chan to their home,
and see whether his presence would not deliver Pearl from the danger in which
the doctor declared she undoubtedly was.
The father accordingly went to the inn where he knew Chan was
staying, and to his immense surprise he found him to be a young man of about
twenty-five, highly polished in manner, and possessed of unusual intelligence.
For some time he utterly refused to believe that this handsome young fellow was
really the man with whom Pearl was so deeply in love, and it was not until Chan
had told him the romantic story of his life that he could at all believe that he
was not being imposed upon. Eventually, however, he was so taken with Chan that
he became determined to do all in his power to bring about his marriage with his
"Come with me at once," he said, "and see if your presence will
not do more than the cleverest doctors in the town have been able to accomplish.
Pearl has been so distressed at not seeing you that she is now seriously ill,
and we have been afraid that she would die of a broken heart."
When they arrived at the house Chan was taken into the
sick-room, and the girl gazed into his face with a look of wonderment. "I do not
seem to recognize you," she said in a feeble voice. "You are much younger than
Chan, and although there is something about you that reminds me of him, I cannot
realize that you are the same person with whom my spirit eighteen years ago held
fellowship in the monastery where my body lay unburied."
Chan proceeded to explain the mystery. "For years," he said, "my
mind was troubled about the difference between our ages. I was afraid that when
you saw me with grey hairs and with wrinkles on my face, your love would receive
a shock, and you might regret that you had ever pledged yourself to me. Although
you had vanished from my sight, my prayers still continued to be offered to the
Goddess of Mercy. She had heard them for you, you remember, when you were in the
Land of Shadows, and through her intercession Yam-lo had forgiven your sins, and
had made life easier for you in that gloomy country.
"I still continued to pray to her, hoping in some vague way that
she would intervene to bring about the desire of my heart, and that when in due
time I should meet you again, every obstacle to our mutual love would be for
"One day a fairy came into the very room where your spirit had
often conversed with me. He carried me away with him to the Western Heaven and
brought me into the very presence of the Goddess of Mercy. She gave directions
for me to bathe in the 'Fountain of Eternal Youth,' and I became young again.
That is why you see me now with a young face and a young nature, but my heart in
its love for you has never changed, and never will as long as life lasts."
As he was telling this entrancing story, a look of devoted love
spread over the beautiful countenance of Pearl. She gradually became instinct
with life, and before he had finished speaking, the lassitude and exhaustion
which had seemed to threaten her very life entirely disappeared. A rosy look
came over her face, and her coal-black eyes flashed with hidden fires.
"Now I know," she cried, "that you are Chan. You are so changed
that when I first caught sight of you my heart sank within me, for I had
pictured an older man, and I could not at once realize that you were the same
Chan who showed such unbounded love for me in the years gone by.
"It was not that I should have loved you less even though you
had really been older. My heart would never have changed. It was only my doubt
as to your reality that made me hesitate, but now my happiness is indeed great;
for since through the goodness of the Goddess you have recovered your youth, I
need not fear that the difference between our years may in the near future bring
to us an eternal separation."
In a few days Pearl was once more herself again. Her parents,
delighted with the romantic turn that things had taken and highly pleased with
Chan himself, arranged for the betrothal of their daughter to him; and in the
course of a few months, the loving couple were united in marriage. And so, after
years of waiting, the happy consummation was accomplished, which Heaven and the
Goddess of Mercy and even the dread Ruler of the Land of Shadows had each taken
a share in bringing about; and for many and many a long year the story of Chan
and his wife was spread abroad throughout the region in which they lived.