On the second day of the Mid-Autumn Festival in the second year of Chongzhen, I went to Yanzhou via Zhenjiang. At about three or four o'clock this afternoon, I arrived at Beigushan and docked at Jiangkou. Moonlight poured out of the bag and reflected in the water. The river was choppy, and the dew on the river was filled with steam, which seemed to spray the sky white. I was very surprised.

It has been two days since the ship passed the Jinshan Temple. When it passed the Dragon King Hall and entered the main hall, everything was dark and silent. In the Woods, the bright moonlight leaking from the cracks in the trees scattered all over the floor, like residual snow. I asked my little servant to bring me costume props for singing opera, lit bright lights in the hall with great fanfare, and sang Han Qi, Wang Jinshan and the Yangtze River War.

The gongs and drums were loud, and the whole Jinshan Temple rose to watch. An old monk wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, dumbfounded, yawned, laughed and sneezed together. They looked slowly, hoping to see where we came from, why and when we came here, but they were afraid to ask questions.

The play was over and it was almost dawn, so we untied the cable and crossed the river. The monks of Jinshan Temple all ran to the foot of the mountain to see us for a long time, wondering whether we were human beings or ghosts.

Original text:

One day after the Mid-Autumn Festival in the second year of Chongzhen, Yudao Zhenjiang arrived in Yanzhou. God, Beigu, Zhoukou. The moonlight fell into the water, Jiang Tao breathed, the dew was sucked dry, and the sky was white. What a surprise. It's already the second drum to move the boat across Jinshan Temple. After the Dragon King Hall, they entered the main hall, all of which were painted quietly. Moonlight leaks in the forest, as sparse as residual snow.

I asked Xiaoxi to fill the hall with literary equipment and sing Han Qi, Wang Jinshan and the Yangtze River War. Everyone in the temple looks up at the noise of gongs and drums. An old monk rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, suddenly opened his mouth, yawned and laughed. Xu dare not ask who he is and when he will arrive. It will be dawn after the play. Untie the cable and cross the river. The monk walked to the foot of the mountain and looked for a long time. He didn't know whether it was a man, a demon or a ghost.

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Creation background

Zhang Dai was born in an official family and lived in luxury in his early years.

Self-proclaimed: "Little dude, exultation, good house, good maid, good prostitute, good clothes, good food, good steed, good lantern, good fireworks, good pear garden ..." ("Epitaph for Yourself") Chongzhen two years (1629), Beisuo. The author recalled the lofty sentiments of the teenagers and created this article.