38: Yet It Was the True God Who Knocked at Night

It was already past midnight, and the chill in the air was palpable. A maid brought in hot tea, which everyone sipped before prompting Zhu Erdan to continue his tale.

Surrounded by the eager listeners, Zhu Erdan felt a little lightheaded, never having experienced such respect before. His heart stirred, and he decided to bring the image of Judge Lu home, placing it in a side room and worshipping it day and night.

One evening, after he had finished his marital duties, he heard knocking at the door. His heart leapt in fright—who could be knocking at this hour? Fearing bandits, he dared not open the door nor utter a word.

Suddenly, a fierce wind pushed the door open. Zhu Erdan and his wife were terrified. Looking up, they saw a figure with a green face and red beard, dressed in official robes, entering the room.

Zhu Erdan trembled uncontrollably, clinging tightly to his wife and hiding in the corner of the bed, too afraid to look up.

Then, his wife let out a shrill scream, and he felt the world spinning. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself standing on the floor, having been dragged from the bed by the visitor.

“My good brother, do not be afraid. Look carefully—do you know who I am?”

The visitor’s voice was rough and imposing, but he made no other movement.

Zhu Erdan calmed himself, looked closely, and exclaimed, “Judge Lu, Divine Sovereign?”

Having carried the deity’s image down the mountain the previous night, he was well-acquainted with its features. Seeing them now, he recognized Judge Lu at once. Was he here because of what Zhu Erdan had done?

“Indeed, it is I,” Judge Lu replied, nodding. He picked up some clothes from the side and draped them over Zhu Erdan himself. “The night is cold, my good brother. You are but a mortal; do not catch a chill.”

With these gestures, Zhu Erdan regained his composure. Although Judge Lu’s appearance was fierce, his words and demeanor showed no ill intent, nor did he seem to be here to accuse him.

“Divine Sovereign, what brings you here?”

“Did you not say that if you passed the examination, you would invite me for a drink?”

Judge Lu laughed heartily and waved his sleeve. “So I’ve come early, to celebrate your success.”

Zhu Erdan forced a smile. “You jest, Divine Sovereign. I know my own situation. With the little ink in my belly, passing the exam is impossible.”

He had struggled to become a scholar, believing it would bring honor to his family, but after several unsuccessful attempts at the provincial examination, he had nearly abandoned hope.

“My good brother, do not lose heart. This is but a trifling matter. Do not worry—I have my ways to help you.”

Judge Lu patted Zhu Erdan’s shoulder. “Let us not discuss this now. Go and prepare some wine. Tonight, we shall drink our fill, and tomorrow, I will resolve it for you.”

Zhu Erdan was overjoyed. Judge Lu was a deity, and if he said he could help, it must be true. He instructed his wife to dress herself properly, prepare some simple dishes in the kitchen, and bring out a jar of aged wine.

“Divine Sovereign, our home is poor, and this is all I can offer. Please do not mind.”

Four or five small dishes, with neither fish nor meat, and a jar of old wine—together, this was a feast for Zhu Erdan.

“My good brother, you are too polite. I have lived on the mountain, enduring wind and sun, and the beasts, not knowing how much longer I might have suffered had you not carried me down.”

Judge Lu waved his hand. “Do not call me Divine Sovereign. If you do not disdain it, address me as elder brother.”

Zhu Erdan readily complied, bowing deeply. “Zhu Erdan greets his elder brother.”

Judge Lu laughed and helped him up. The two drank heartily from big bowls until Zhu Erdan fell drunk on the floor.

When he awoke, it was already late morning. His wife brought him light soup and plain porridge, explaining that after he had drunk too much, Judge Lu had left.

Hearing this, Zhu Erdan knew it had not been a dream. He hurried to the side room, finding Judge Lu’s image standing properly on the floor.

He asked his wife to bring a chair, placing the image upon it, and did not leave the room for the entire day, keeping vigil.

After dinner, he told his wife to go to bed first, intending to wait and see if Judge Lu would return.

Sure enough, when the moon was high, he heard a noise and opened his eyes to find himself lying on the floor, while Judge Lu was tracing a sharp knife across his chest.

“Brother Lu, why do you want to harm me?” Zhu Erdan cried in terror, unable to move.

Judge Lu glanced at him, saying nothing. After a moment, he withdrew the knife and lightly brushed the wound, which miraculously healed, leaving only a faint red scar.

“Last night, I promised to help you. Tonight, as I arrived, I happened upon a scholar who had died of illness outside the city. So I took his heart and replaced yours with it. From now on, passing the examination will no longer be a problem.”

Judge Lu raised his hand for Zhu Erdan to see—a blood-red heart pulsed in his palm, then vanished into his sleeve.

Zhu Erdan touched his chest and found nothing amiss, not even pain. Many of his former doubts about his studies seemed to have cleared, inspiration flooding his mind—he felt capable of composing ten poems in a single sitting.

He realized Judge Lu’s words were true and exclaimed in delight, “Thank you, elder brother, for your divine powers in granting me the heart of a scholar. I shall never forget your kindness.”

“My good brother, there’s no need for thanks. Just continue to worship my image at home and tell no one of this. There will be more benefits for you in the future.”

Judge Lu pondered for a moment. “Your family is poor—I know where you can find some silver to supplement your household.”

...

Not long after, Zhu Erdan indeed passed the provincial examination and his household grew prosperous. Friends flocked to his door, and distant relatives—who had never shown interest—came seeking favor.

Scholars cherish their reputation dearly, a crucial factor for future advancement or even official appointment. Unless it was excessive, Zhu Erdan granted every request, purchasing a courtyard in the countryside, occasionally visiting the official fields bestowed upon him, but more often acquiring land from impoverished peasants seeking to escape burdensome taxes.

For a time, Zhu Erdan became well-known in Hangzhou, not as grand as the elite families, but still a prominent household. He kept young maids in the country, living the comfortable life of a gentleman.

As for the city, he dared not let outsiders enter, nor reveal Judge Lu’s existence. He commissioned a new image to be sent to the mountain, replacing the original.

Thus, several months passed, filled with pleasures and beauty. He sampled many lovely ladies, and his own wife seemed increasingly plain, even ugly, unable to compare to the delicate skin of sheltered women.

Whenever fellow scholars visited, he would claim his home was too simple and instead entertain them at taverns, forbidding his wife from leaving the house, and assigning someone to deliver provisions daily.

One day, drinking with Judge Lu again, he inadvertently confided his dissatisfaction, then asked, “Brother Lu, is there a way to make my wife more beautiful?”

Judge Lu raised his cup and drank. “That is a minor matter, no need to worry. Let me think of a way to help you.”