A young rake and a mote, having neglected the affairs of the family, did not know how to keep in a boggling expenditure. He let all his possessions go in the wind, and none of his relatives wanted to shelter him. Hungry, he hung around the city, complaining and moaning.
Suddenly an unknown old man appeared before him and offered as much money as he needed for a comfortable life. Confused Du Zichun (and so called our rake) called a small amount, but the elder insisted on three million. They were enough for a two-year revelry, and then Du again went around the world.
And again the old man appeared before him and again gave money – now ten million. All the good intentions to change life at once evaporated, temptations overpowered the reveler, and two years later there was no money.
For the third time a dissolute rake gave the elder a terrible oath not to waste money in vain and received twenty million. The benefactor appointed him a meeting in a year. He really settled down, arranged family affairs, endowed poor relatives, scolded his brothers, married his sisters. So the year flew by.
Du met with the elder. They went together to the halls, which could not belong to mere mortals. In a huge cauldron, a pill of immortality was prepared. The elder, throwing off his worldly garments, found himself in the yellow clothes of a clergyman. Then he took three pills of white stone, dissolved them in wine and gave a drink to Du Zichun. He sat him on a tiger’s skin and warned that, no matter how terrible pictures opened his gaze, he did not dare utter a word, for all this would be just an obsession, a dribble.
As soon as the old man disappeared, hundreds of soldiers with...
There were ferocious tigers, lions, vipers and scorpions threatening to devour him, sting, but Zichun remained silent. Then a shower poured down, thunder struck, lightning flashed. It seemed that the sky would collapse, but Zichun did not flinch. Then he was surrounded by ministers of hell – demons with malicious faces, and began to frighten them, setting a boiling pot in front of Zzyun. Then they took up his wife, who begged her husband for mercy. Du Zichun was speechless. It was cut to pieces. Silence. Then Zychunya was killed.
He was cast into the nether world and again subjected to horrific tortures. But, remembering the words of the Taoist, Zichun was silent. The Lord of the underworld ordered him to be born again, but not a man, but a woman.
Tszychun was born a girl who grew up in a rare beauty. But no one heard a single word from her. She got married and had a son. My husband did not believe that his wife was not. He planned to make her speak. But she was silent. Then, in a rage, he grabbed the child and held his head against the stone. Forgetting the prohibition, her mother, not remembering herself, screamed with a desperate cry.
The cry was not yet frozen, as Zichun was sitting again on the tiger skin, and before him was an old Taoist. He sadly admitted that his ward had managed to abandon everything earthly, except for love, and therefore, he would not be immortal, but would have to continue to live a man.
Tszychun returned to the people, but very much regretted the broken oath. However, the old Taoist never met him again.