The Kunlun Slave

" In the Dali years of the Tang, a young man named Cui — son of a high official, jade-featured, quiet and exact in everything he did — was sent by his father to call on a sick friend of the family: a minister of the first rank, one of the great meritorious lords of the age. Cui served then in the palace guard. He went to pay his father's respects." "In the Dali era of the Tang there was a young man named Cui, whose father was a prominent official, on close terms with a peerless meritorious minister of the first rank. Cui at the time was a qianniu guardsman. His father sent him to inquire after the minister's illness. Cui was young, his features like jade, of an aloof and upright nature, calm in bearing and refined in speech."

"The minister had a servant draw back the curtain and called him in. Cui bowed, delivered his father's words, and the old lord — charmed by the boy — sat him down to talk. Three singing-girls stood before them, each one flawless, carrying golden bowls of cherries, split open and swimming in sweet cream, which they offered round. The minister told the girl in red silk gauze to hand a bowl to Cui. Cui, young and shy in front of the women, would not eat. So the minister had her feed him, spoonful by spoonful. She smiled at that. Then Cui rose to take his leave." "The minister ordered a serving-girl to roll up the curtain and summoned Cui into the room. Cui bowed and conveyed his father's message. The minister, pleased, took a great liking to him and bade him sit and talk. At the time three singing-girls of matchless beauty stood before them, holding golden bowls filled with cherries, split open and steeped in sweet cream, which they offered. The minister then ordered the girl dressed in red silk gauze to lift a bowl and give it to Cui to eat. Cui, being young, was bashful before the girls and would not eat. The minister ordered the red-gauze girl to feed him with a spoon, and Cui, unable to refuse, ate. The girl smiled at him. Then he took his leave and departed."

"'When you have time,' the minister said, 'you must come again — don't be a stranger to an old man.' He sent the red-gauze girl to see Cui out. At the gate Cui glanced back. The girl held up three fingers. Then she turned her palm over, three times. Then she touched the little mirror at her breast and said only, 'Remember.' Nothing else." "The minister said, 'When you are at leisure, young sir, you must come and visit; do not keep away from an old man.' He ordered Hongxiao to see him out of the courtyard. As Cui looked back, the girl held up three fingers, then turned her palm over three times, then pointed to the small mirror on her breast and said, 'Remember.' She said nothing more."

“He took up a dagger and went straight over the high wall — a flicker, like wings opening, fast as a falcon. Arrows came down like rain, and not one touched him.”

"Cui went home, gave his father the minister's regards, and shut himself in his study — dazed, off his food, saying little, his face gone dark. All day he turned the one riddle over and could not eat. He only recited a poem to himself: that he had wandered by accident up to the peak of Penglai, the isle of the immortals, where a jade maiden with bright pendants had turned her starlit eyes on him; and now the vermilion doors of the deep palace stood half-shut behind the moon, which surely shone on that snow-lovely girl, alone with her grief. No one around him could make sense of it." "Cui returned and delivered the minister's message. Back at his study his spirit was lost and his will stolen away; he spoke less, his face fell, and he sat sunk in thought, with no appetite by day. He only chanted a poem: 'By mistake I roamed to the peak of Mount Peng; a jade maiden of bright pendants stirred her starry eyes. Vermilion doors half-shut, the moon of the deep palace — it must be shining on the jade-orchid, snow-lovely, in her grief.' Those around him could not fathom his meaning."

"In the household was a Kunlun slave named Mo Le. He watched his young master and finally said, 'What weighs on you, that you grieve like this and won't stop? Why not tell your old servant?' 'What would you know,' Cui said, 'to ask what's in my heart?' 'Only say it,' Mo Le answered. 'I'll untangle it for you — near or far, I can see it done.' The strangeness of that startled Cui, and he told him everything." "At the time there was in the household a Kunlun slave named Mo Le, who looked at his young master and said, 'What is on your mind, that you hold such grief without end? Why not tell your old servant?' Cui said, 'What would the likes of you know, to ask about the matters of my heart?' Mo Le said, 'Only speak it, and I will resolve it for you; near or far, I can surely accomplish it.' Cui, startled by the strangeness of his words, then told him everything."

"'A small thing,' Mo Le said. 'Why suffer over it instead of speaking sooner?' Cui explained the signs. 'What's hard about it? Three fingers — the minister keeps ten courts of singing-girls; she means the third court. The palm turned three times — that's fifteen fingers, the fifteenth of the month. The little mirror at her breast — on the fifteenth night the moon is full and round as a mirror. She's telling you to come.'" "Mo Le said, 'This is a small matter — why not have said so sooner, instead of tormenting yourself?' Cui then explained her secret signs. Mo Le said, 'What is hard to understand? Her three raised fingers — in the minister's mansion there are ten courts of singing-girls; this is the third court. Turning her palm three times makes fifteen fingers, answering to the fifteenth day. The little mirror at her breast — on the night of the fifteenth the moon is round as a mirror. She is bidding you come.'"

"Cui was beside himself. 'But how do I get to her?' Mo Le smiled. 'The night after next is the fifteenth. Get me two bolts of dark blue silk and I'll sew you a suit that fits close to the body. There's a fierce dog in the mansion that guards the door of the women's court — it lets no stranger past and kills anyone who tries. It is alert as a god and savage as a tiger; it is one of the hounds bred by Meng Hai of Caozhou. No one alive but your old servant could put it down. Tonight I'll go and kill it.'" "Cui, overjoyed beyond himself, said to Mo Le, 'By what plan can you carry me through to relieve this knot in me?' Mo Le smiled and said, 'The night after next is the fifteenth. Get two bolts of deep-blue silk, and I will make you a close-fitting suit. In the minister's mansion there is a fierce dog that guards the gate of the singing-girls' court; no ordinary person may enter, and any who does it bites to death. It is alert as a god and fierce as a tiger — it is the dog of Meng Hai of Caozhou. In all the world, none but your old servant could kill this dog. Tonight I will beat it to death for you.'"

"Cui plied him with wine and meat. At the third watch Mo Le took up an iron mallet on a chain and went out. He was back in the time it takes to eat a meal. 'The dog's dead and done,' he said. 'Nothing stands in the way now.'" "So Cui feasted him with wine and meat. At the third watch, Mo Le took a chained mallet and went. In about the time of a meal he returned and said, 'The dog is already killed; there is no obstacle now.'"

"That same night, at the third watch, Mo Le dressed Cui in the blue clothes, took him on his back, and went over ten walls one after another into the women's court — stopping at the third door." "That night at the third watch, he dressed Cui in the blue clothes, then carried him on his back and crossed over ten layers of walls, entering the singing-girls' court and stopping at the third door."

"The embroidered door stood unbarred, a golden lamp burning low. Inside, the girl sat sighing, as if waiting for someone. Her hair-knot had come loose, her painted face wiped clean, her beauty all turned to grief, her tears bright on her cheeks. She was reciting a poem: that deep in her cave the oriole cries for the lover who left her; that stolen away beneath the blossoms she has loosed her pearl pendants; that the blue-green clouds have drifted apart and no word comes; and in vain she leans on her jade flute and grieves for the phoenix and his mate." "The embroidered door was unbarred, the golden lamp faintly lit. He heard only the girl sighing as she sat, as if awaiting someone. Her kingfisher hair-knot just come loose, her rouged face just relaxed, her jade beauty resentful and joyless, her pearl-like tears glistening, she chanted a poem: 'In the deep cave the oriole cries, resenting her Ruan lang; stolen here beneath the flowers, she loosed her pearl pendants. The jade-blue clouds drift and break, and letter and word are cut off; in vain she leans on the jade flute, grieving for the phoenixes.'"

"The guards were all asleep, the whole quarter dead silent. Cui lifted the curtain slowly and stepped in. It took her a long moment to be sure it was him. Then she sprang down from the couch and seized his hands. 'I knew you were quick,' she said, 'that you'd read my signs — that's why I spoke with my hands. But by what magic did you ever get here?'" "The guards were all asleep, and the neighborhood utterly still. Cui slowly drew back the curtain and entered. After a long while she confirmed it was Cui. The girl leapt down from her couch, took Cui by the hand, and said, 'I knew you were clever, sir, and would understand in silence — that is why I spoke with my hands. But I do not know by what divine art you were able to reach here.'"

"Cui told her the whole of Mo Le's plan, how he had been carried in on the man's back. 'Where is Mo Le?' she asked. 'Just outside the curtain.' She called him in and poured wine into a golden bowl for him to drink." "Cui told her fully of Mo Le's scheme and how he had been carried there. The girl said, 'Where is Mo Le?' He said, 'Just outside the curtain.' She called him in and, with a golden bowl, poured wine and gave it to him to drink."

"Then she told Cui her story. 'My family was wealthy once, up in the north. My master' — the minister — 'holds a general's command, and he forced me into his house as a concubine-slave. I couldn't bring myself to die, so I live on in shame. My face is painted, but my heart is knotted tight. Jade chopsticks lift the finest food to me, gold censers breathe perfume, silks are carried in past cloud-painted screens, I sleep every night under embroidered quilts among pearls and kingfisher-jade — and none of it is what I want. It is a cage. Your man has such power in him; why should he not break me out of this prison too? Grant me that, and I would not regret it in death. Let me be your servant. I ask only to wait on you. I don't know what you think, sir.'" "The girl said to Cui, 'My family was originally wealthy, dwelling in the north. My master, holding the banner of command, forced me to become his concubine-servant. Unable to make myself die, I go on living in shame. Though my face wears powder and paint, my heart is deeply knotted. Even with jade chopsticks raising delicacies, gold censers wafting incense, fine silks forever brought past the cloud-screens, and pearls and kingfisher-gems where I sleep under embroidered quilts — none of it is what I wish; it is like being in fetters. Since your worthy retainer has such divine art, why should he not free me from this jail? Once my wish is granted, I would not regret it even in death. I beg to become your servant, and wish to attend upon your radiant presence. I do not know your noble mind on this, sir?'"

"Cui, moved, said nothing. 'If the lady is set on it,' said Mo Le, 'this too is a small matter.' She was overjoyed. Mo Le carried out her bags and cases first, going back three times. Then, afraid dawn was near, he took Cui and the girl both on his back and flew out over more than ten sheer walls. Not one of the minister's guards stirred. They came back to the study and hid her there." "Cui, moved, said nothing. Mo Le said, 'Since the lady is so resolved, this too is a small matter.' The girl was greatly pleased. Mo Le asked first to carry out her bags and dressing-cases, doing so three times over. Then, fearing it was near dawn, he carried both Cui and the girl and flew out over more than ten steep walls. The minister's household guards raised no alarm at all. They returned to the study and hid her there."

"At daybreak the minister's people finally noticed, and found the dog dead as well. The minister was aghast. 'My gates and walls have always been sealed and locked tight,' he said. 'Whoever did this moved as if he could fly — no sound, no trace. This was some trained swordsman who carried her off. Say nothing more about it; noise would only bring us harm.'" "At dawn, the minister's household finally realized it, and saw too that the dog was dead. The minister was greatly alarmed and said, 'My gates and walls have always been deep and close, the bolts and locks most strict. The manner of it was like flying — silent, without a trace. This must have been some swordsman who spirited her away. Make it known no further; it would only invite disaster.'"

"The girl stayed hidden in Cui's house for two years. Then, in flowering season, she rode out in a small carriage to see the Qujiang gardens, and one of the minister's household spotted her and knew her, and told his master. The minister thought it strange and summoned Cui to question him. Frightened, Cui dared not hide anything, and laid out the whole story — how it had all been done by his slave Mo Le, who had carried her off." "The girl remained hidden in Cui's house for two years. Then, in flower season, she rode out in a small carriage to tour Qujiang, and was secretly recognized by one of the minister's household, who reported it to the minister. The minister, finding it strange, summoned Cui and questioned him about the matter. Afraid, Cui dared not conceal it, and told the whole cause in detail — all because his slave Mo Le had carried her off."

"'The girl was badly in the wrong,' the minister said, 'but you've kept her more than a year now, so I won't press who was right. Still — I have to rid the world of a man like that.' He ordered fifty armored soldiers, fully armed, to surround Cui's court and take Mo Le." "The minister said, 'The girl was greatly at fault, but since you, sir, have kept her more than a year, I cannot press the rights and wrongs of it. Yet I must rid the world of this menace.' He ordered fifty armored soldiers, strictly bearing weapons, to surround Cui's court and seize Mo Le."

"Mo Le took up a dagger and went straight over the high wall — a flicker, like wings opening, fast as a falcon. Arrows came down on him like rain and not one touched him. In a breath he was gone, and no one knew where." "Mo Le, holding a dagger, flew out over the high wall — a glimpse like the beat of wings, swift as a hawk. Arrows massed like rain, but none could strike him. In an instant, no one knew which way he had gone."

"The Cui household was left stunned. And the minister, from then on, was frightened and full of regret: every night he set house-boys to guard him with swords and halberds, and kept it up for a full year before he stopped. More than ten years later, someone from the Cui family saw Mo Le in the market at Luoyang, selling medicine — his face exactly as young as before." "The Cui household was greatly astonished. Afterward the minister, regretful and afraid, night after night had many house-boys guard him with swords and halberds; this continued for a full year before it ceased. More than ten years later, someone of the Cui family saw Mo Le selling medicine in the market of Luoyang, his face as youthful as ever."

崑崙 The original Chinese · honored as an artifact

唐大歷中，有崔生者，其父為顯僚，與蓋代之勳臣一品者熟。生是時為千牛，其父使往省一品疾。生少年，容貌如玉，性稟孤介，舉止安詳，發言清雅。

Opening lines, classical Chinese · 傳奇 · Tang chuanqi, via 太平廣記 Taiping Guangji