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In a city in the neighborhood of Kaiutschou there  once lived a constable by the name of Dung. One  day when he returned from a hunt after thieves the  twilight had already begun to fall. So before he  waded through the stream that flowed through the city  he sat down on the bank, lit a pipe and took off his  shoes. When he looked up, he suddenly saw a man in  a red hat dressed as a constable crouching beside him.
Astonished, he inquired: “Who are you? Your  clothes indicate that you are a member of our profession,  but I have never yet seen you among the men  of our local force. Tell me, pray, whence you come?”
The other answered: “I am weary, having come a  long journey, and would like to enjoy a pipeful of  tobacco in your company. I am sure you will not object  to that.”
Dung handed him a pipe and tobacco.
But the other constable said: “I do not need them.  Just you keep on smoking. It is enough for me to enjoy  the odor.”
So they chatted awhile together, and together waded  through the stream. And gradually they became quite  confidential and the stranger said: “I will be quite  frank with you. I am the head constable of the Nether  World, and am subject to the Lord of the Great Mountain.  You yourself are a constable of reputation here  in the upper world. And, because of my skill, I have  standing in the world below. Since we are so well  suited to each other, I should like to enter into a bond  of brotherhood with you.”
Dung was agreeable and asked: “But what really  brings you here?”
Said the other: “In your district there lives a  certain Wang, who was formerly superintendent of  the granaries, and at that time caused the death of an  officer. This man has now accused him in the Nether  World. The King of the Nether World cannot come  to a decision in the case, and therefore has asked the  Lord of the Great Mountain to settle it. The Lord of  the Great Mountain has ordered that Wang’s property  and life be shortened. First his property is to be sequestered  here in the upper world, and then his soul  is to be dragged to the nether one. I have been sent out  by the Judge of the Dead to fetch him. Yet the established  custom is, when some one is sent for, that the  constable has first to report to the god of the city. The  god of the city then issues a summons, and sends one  of his own spirit constables to seize the soul and deliver  it over to me. Only then may I take it away with  me.”
Dung asked him further particulars; but the other  merely said: “Later on you will see it all for yourself.”
When they reached the city Dung invited his colleague  to stay at his home, and entertained him with wine and  food. But the other only talked and touched neither  the goblet nor the chop-sticks.
Said Dung: “In my haste I could not find any  better meal for you. I am afraid it is not good  enough.”
But his guest replied: “Oh no, I am already surfeited  and satisfied! We spirits feed only on odors;  in which respect we differ from men.”
It was late at night before he set out to visit the  temple of the city god.
No sooner did morning dawn than he reappeared to  take farewell and said: “Now all is in order: I am  off! In two years’ time you will go to Taianfu, the  city near the Great Mountain, and there we will meet  again.”
Dung began to feel ill at ease. A few days later, in  fact, came the news that Wang had died. The district  mandarin journeyed to the dead man’s natal village  in order to express his sympathy. Among his followers  was Dung. The inn-keeper there was a tenant  of Wang’s.
Dung asked him: “Did anything out of the ordinary  happen when Sir Wang died?”
“It was all very strange,” answered the inn-keeper,  “and my mother who had been very busy in his house,  came home and fell into a violent fever. She was unconscious  for a day and a night, and could hardly  breathe. She came to on the very day when the  news of Sir Wang’s death was made public, and said:  ‘I have been to the Nether World and I met him there.  He had chains about his neck and several devils were  dragging him along. I asked him what he had done,  but he said: “I have no time to tell you now. When  you return ask my wife and she will tell you all!”’  And yesterday my mother went there and asked her.  And Wang’s wife told her with tears: ‘My master  was an official, but for a long time he did not make any  head-way. He was superintendent of the granaries in  Nanking, and in the same city was a high officer, with  whom my master became very intimate. He always  came to visit at our house and he and my master would  talk and drink together. One day my master said to  him: “We administrative mandarins have a large  salary and a good income besides. You are an officer,  and have even reached the second step in rank, yet  your salary is so small that you cannot possibly make  it do. Have you any other income aside from it?”  The officer replied: “We are such good friends that I  know I can speak openly to you. We officers are  compelled to find some additional sources of revenue  in order that our pockets may not be altogether empty.  When we pay our men we make a small percentage of  gains on the exchange; and we also carry more soldiers  on our rosters than there actually are present. If we  had to live on our salaries we would die of hunger!”
“‘When my husband heard him say this he could  not rid himself of the idea that by disclosing these  criminal proceedings the State would be indebted to  him, and that it would surely aid his plans for advancement.  On the other hand, he reflected that it  would not be right to abuse his friend’s confidence.  With these ideas in his mind he retired to his inner  rooms. In the courtyard stood a round pavilion.  Lost in heavy thought, he crossed his hands behind his  back, and for a long time walked round and round the  pavilion. Finally he said with a sigh: “Charity  begins at home; I will sacrifice my friend!” Then he  drew up his report, in which the officer was indicted.  An imperial order was issued, the matter was investigated,  and the officer was condemned to death. My  husband, however, was at once increased in rank, and  from that time on advanced rapidly. And with the  exception of myself no one ever knew anything of the  matter.’ When my mother told them of her encounter  with Wang in the Nether World, the whole family  burst into loud weeping. Four tents full of Buddhist  and Taoist priests were sent for, who fasted and  read masses for thirty-five days in order that Wang  might be delivered. Whole mountains of paper  money, silk and straw figures were burned, and the  ceremonies have not as yet come to an end.”
When Dung heard this he was very much frightened.
Two years later he received an order to journey to  Taianfu in order to arrest some robbers there.  He thought to himself: “My friend, the spirit, must be  very powerful indeed, to have known about this trip so  far in advance. I must inquire for him. Perhaps I  will see him again.”
When he reached Taianfu he sought out an inn.
The inn-keeper received him with the words: “Are  you Master Dung, and have you come from the bay of  Kaiutschou?”
“I am the man,” answered Dung, alarmed, “how do  you happen to know me?”
The inn-keeper replied: “The constable of the temple  of the Great Mountain appeared to me last night  and said: ‘To-morrow a man by the name of Dung  who is a good friend of mine is coming from the bay of  Kaiutschou!’ And then he described your appearance  and your clothes to me exactly, and told me to make  careful note of them, and when you came to treat you  with the greatest consideration, and to take no pay  from you, since he would repay me lavishly. So when  I saw you coming everything was exactly as my  dreams had foretold, and I knew you at once. I have  already prepared a quiet room for you, and beg that  you will condescend to make yourself at ease.”
Joyfully Dung followed him, and the inn-keeper  waited on him with the greatest consideration, and saw  that he had great plenty to eat and to drink.
At midnight the spirit arrived. Without having  opened the door, he stood by Dung’s bedside, gave him  his hand, and asked how things had gone with him  since he had last seen him.
Dung answered all his questions and thanked him  into the bargain for appearing to the inn-keeper in a  dream.
He continued to live for some days at the inn. During  the day he went walking on the Great Mountain  and at night his friend came to visit him and talked  with him, and at the same time asked him what had  happened to Sir Wang.
“His sentence has already been spoken,” answered  the other. “This man pretended to be conscientious,  and traitorously brought about the death of his friend.  Of all sins there is no greater sin than this. As a punishment  he will be sent forth again into the world as an  animal.” Then he added: “When you reach home  you must take constant care of your health. Fate has  allowed you seventy-eight years of mortal life. When  your time is up I will come to fetch you myself. Then  I will see that you obtain a place as constable in the  Nether World, where we can always be together.”
When he had said this, he disappeared.
Note: “The Constable” is a tale of modern origin. The Lord of  the Great Mountain (Taischan) is even greater than Yan Wang, the  God of Death. His Temple of the Easterly Holy Mountain (Dung  Yuo Miau), is to be found in every district capital. These temples  play an important part in the care of the dead before interment.