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Yang Hanlin returned home, feeling dazed and completely uninterested. He sat alone, gloomy and lost in thought, pondering, "Since that Fairy said she was granted permission by the Heavenly Decree to return to the Celestial Realm, her return should be soon. Who knows if her departure is today? I should stay in the mountains and find a hidden place to witness the celestial beings coming with banners to welcome her back to the Celestial Realm. It wouldn't be too late to leave then. Why was I so hasty and careless in my thoughts?" Filled with regret, he couldn't sleep all night, merely gesturing in the air with his hands while muttering to himself.
The next morning, Yang Hanlin took his Attendant and returned to the place where they had stayed the previous day. The peach blossoms smiled, and the stream babbled softly, leaving only a pavilion behind; the fragrance of the beautiful woman had long since dissipated. Yang Hanlin quietly approached the pavilion's edge, gazing forlornly at the blue sky, pointing at the drifting clouds and sighing, "It seems the fairy has already ridden on clouds to pay homage to the Heavenly Emperor. Now that there are no traces of her, what am I still regretting?" After saying this, he walked down from the pavilion, leaned against a peach tree, and wept, saying, "You are here; you should understand the sorrow felt by Cui Hu when he encountered the peach blossoms in the southern city!" It was not until sunset that he returned in a state of melancholy.
A few days later, Zheng Sheng came to visit Yang Hanlin and said, "A few days ago, due to someone in my family being ill, I couldn't go out with you, which I still regret. Although the peach blossoms have already fallen, outside the city in the countryside under the willow shade is just right. Why don't we steal a half-day of leisure there to enjoy some butterfly dances and listen to the songs of orioles?" Yang Hanlin replied, "The green shade and fragrant grass also have their charm." The two then rode out of the city together, wandering freely until they reached a dense forest. They spread out some grass and sat on the ground, drinking a few cups.
Nearby was an abandoned grave sitting lonely on a cliff edge, surrounded by weeds and withered sedges. Only a few clusters of wildflowers intertwined among the desolate grave and chaotic trees created a patch of green shadows, dotted with faint fragrances.
With a hint of drunkenness, Yang Hanlin pointed at the abandoned grave and lamented, "Wise or foolish, noble or lowly—after a hundred years, they all return to this mound of yellow earth. No wonder Meng Changjun shed tears upon hearing 'The Merchant' played at Yongmen." He continued, "Since that's the case, why not enjoy ourselves while we are alive?" Zheng Sheng replied, "Brother must not know the origin of this grave. This is the tomb of Lady Zhang, who was once famous for her beauty. People called her Zhang Lihua. Unfortunately, she had a short life; she passed away at just twenty and was buried here. Later generations pitied her and planted flowers around her grave as companionship. Why don't we pour a cup of wine over her grave as an offering to comfort her lonely spirit?" Yang Hanlin was already sentimental and agreed readily: "What you say is very true."
So they walked to the grave and poured out wine as an offering while each composed a quatrain in memory of this ill-fated woman.
Yang Hanlin's poem was:
Beauty once captivated nations; fragrant soul ascended to heaven.
Instruments learned from mountain birds; silks passed on by wildflowers.
Ancient tombs empty with spring grass; vacant towers shrouded in evening mist.
Old sounds from Qin Chuan's past; today belong to whom?
Zheng Sheng's poem was:
Where once flourished beauty's land; whose gentle maiden resides?
Desolate Su Xiaozhai; lonely Xue Tao's adornment.
Grass carries colors of silk skirts; flowers retain scents of precious dimples.
Fragrant soul cannot be summoned; only crows fly at dusk.
The two recited their poems back and forth while refilling their cups. Zheng Sheng walked unsteadily toward the grave with a hint of sadness as he poured wine over it. Approaching where the grave had collapsed, he discovered a piece of white cloth embroidered with a quatrain. Zheng Sheng recited it aloud and asked, "Which sentimental young man wrote such lingering verses and placed them before this lady's grave?" Yang Hanlin took a look at the cloth and realized it was from his own garment that he had torn off that day to gift to the fairy. He was taken aback and thought: "Could it be that the beauty I encountered that day is truly Lady Zhang's spirit?" At this thought, he broke into a cold sweat as his hair stood on end.
Regaining his composure, Yang Hanlin consoled himself: "Such heavenly beauty and deep affection—whether it's fate or destiny—whether she's a fairy or ghost—why must I cling so tightly?" Taking advantage of Zheng Sheng turning away for a moment, Yang Hanlin secretly filled another cup with wine and poured it over the grave while silently praying: "Though separated by yin and yang, our bond remains. I only wish for her spirit to feel my sentiment so that we may continue our connection tonight." After finishing his prayer, he pulled Zheng Sheng up to leave.
That night, Yang Hanlin sat alone in his study leaning against his pillow. The image of the woman kept appearing in his mind; he longed for her deeply but found it hard to sleep. Moonlight streamed through the window like water; shadows danced among trees outside casting patterns on his window. Everything was silent except for occasional sounds from afar. Suddenly, faint footsteps emerged from the darkness. Yang Hanlin hurriedly got up to open the door; by moonlight he saw that it was indeed the fairy he had met at Purple Pavilion Peak that night. His heart filled with both sorrow and joy as he quickly stepped out across the threshold and took her hand intending to lead her inside.
However, she gently refused: "You must know my true identity by now; do you not harbor any disdain? When we met that day, I did not intend to hide my identity but feared that revealing it would frighten you. Under pretense of being a fairy allowed me this fortunate night with you—a great honor indeed—and our bond has surpassed mere words. I hope this opportunity can allow my decayed bones to regain flesh so that our connection may continue. Today you came again to my desolate grave with wine offerings and poetic tributes comforting my lonely spirit; I am immensely grateful for your kindness and filled with admiration for you. Thus I wish to thank you face-to-face for your deep affection but how could I taint your pure body as a ghostly being?"
Hearing this made Yang Hanlin grasp her sleeve tighter as he passionately replied: "Those who fear ghosts are merely ignorant fools afraid of trouble! When people die they become ghosts; ghosts can also be reborn as humans. Humans fear ghosts out of ignorance; ghosts avoid humans out of folly. In essence there is no fundamental difference between humans and ghosts—what distinction is there? My heart is sincere towards you; why do you reject me from Qianli?"
The beauty smiled sweetly and said: "How could I forget your kindness or betray your deep feelings? Yet when you saw me with brows like distant mountains and face like peach blossoms you fell for me—but that's merely an illusion! I've used some tricks hoping for contact with living beings. If you wish to see my true form—it’s just some white bones covered in green moss—you need not approach my broken body with your healthy form."
Yang Hanlin laughed: "Buddhist scriptures say that human bodies are merely assembled from earth, fire, water, wind—who can determine what is real or what is false?" With that he embraced her tightly returning into his room where they shared an even deeper bond than before.
Yang Hanlin said: "From now on let there be no obstacles between us." The beauty replied: "Humans and ghosts walk different paths but as long as we treat each other sincerely our hearts can connect. Your feelings towards me are so genuine how could I easily give up this affection?"
As dawn approached distant temple bells rang out; she rose intending to walk into woods filled with white flowers. Yang Hanlin reluctantly accompanied her to the door promising they would meet again at night. The beauty did not respond but turned away disappearing into the morning light.
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