the roots. In his garden, however, everything was calm and still; not a single flower so much as trembled. Then the truth of the whole mystery burst upon Hsuän-wei. The enchanting girls he had been entertaining were the spirits of his own flowers; the little maiden in the crimson robe was nothing but a bud of red pomegranate; and the flighty, excitable lady whom they called their aunt eighteen times removed was the Goddess of the Wind![1]
That evening, as soon as the moon was up, all the fairies came garlanded with peach-blossoms and plum-blossoms, to tender their thanks to their preserver. "We know," said one of them, "that we cannot make you any adequate return; but we have brought you these blossoms, which, if you will eat, will confer upon you the gift of everlasting youth. Take them, then, dear friend; long may you live to be the guardian of our race, and then our own lives will be long and happy too!" So the philosopher took the blossoms, and ate them; when suddenly his face grew young again, the wrinkles disappeared from his brow, his complexion became fair and delicate, and he felt a new strong current of energy coursing through his veins. Soon afterwards he attained to a knowledge of the True Way, and shared the immortality of the Genii.
- ↑ Unfortunately it is impossible to reproduce in English the expressive double-entendres of the original, in which the words t'ao, li, shih, fêng, &c., that stand for peach, plum, pomegranate, and wind, are at first cunningly represented by other characters having the same sound; the object being to mislead and puzzle the reader until the denouement is arrived at.
