it may be seen whose subscription has been withheld.”  The nun, who was standing by, immediately produced the madman’s money, which on account of its minute value she had not taken the trouble to hand over.  “There is one cash,” she said, “and there is another.  Certainly the offering of these must have been an act of the highest merit, and the giver must be a holy man who will some day attain Buddhahood.”  As she said this she threw the two cash into the midst of the cauldron.  Great bubbles rose and burst, the metal melted and ran like the sap from a tree, limpid as flowing water, and in a few moments the work was accomplished and the new Buddha successfully cast.

The City-god of Yen Ch’eng

The following story of the Ch’eng-huang P’u-sa of Yen Ch’eng (Salt City) is told by Helena von Poseck in the East of Asia Magazine, vol. iii (1904), pp. 169-171.  This legend is also related of several other cities in China.

The Ch’eng-huang P’u-sa is, as already noted, the tutelary god of a city, his position in the unseen world answering to that of a chih hsien, or district magistrate, among men, if the city under his care be a hsien; but if the city hold the rank of a fu, it has (or used to have until recently) two Ch’eng-huang P’u-sas, one a prefect, and the other a district magistrate.  One part of his duty consists of sending small demons to carry off the spirits of the dying, of which spirits he afterward acts as ruler and judge.  He is supposed to exercise special care over the k’u kuei, or spirits which have no descendants to worship and offer sacrifices to them, and on the occasion of the Seventh Month Festival he is carried round the city in his chair to maintain order among them, while the people offer food to them, and burn paper money for their benefit.  He is also carried in procession at the Ch’ing Ming Festival, and on the first day of the tenth month.

The Ch’eng-huang P’u-sa of the city of Yen Ch’eng is in the extremely unfortunate predicament of having no skin to his face, which fact is thus accounted for: 

Once upon a time there lived at Yen Ch’eng an orphan boy who was brought up by his uncle and aunt.  He was just entering upon his teens when his aunt lost a gold hairpin, and accused him of having stolen it.  The boy, whose conscience was clear in the matter, thought of a plan by which his innocence might be proved.

“Let us go to-morrow to Ch’eng-huang P’u-sa’s temple,” he said, “and I will there swear an oath before the god, so that he may manifest my innocence.”

They accordingly repaired to the temple, and the boy, solemnly addressing the idol, said: 

“If I have taken my aunt’s gold pin, may my foot twist, and may I fall as I go out of your temple door!”

Alas for the poor suppliant!  As he stepped over the threshold his foot twisted, and he fell to the ground.  Of course, everybody was firmly convinced of his guilt, and what could the poor boy say when his own appeal to the god thus turned against him?