The Constable

In a town near Kaiutschou there once lived a constable named Dung. One evening he came home late from chasing thieves. Before wading across the stream that ran through the town, he sat down on the bank, lit his pipe and took off his shoes. When he looked up, he saw a man in a red hat, dressed like a constable, crouching beside him.

“Who are you?” asked Dung in surprise. “You are dressed as one of us, but I have never seen you on our town’s force. Where do you come from?” “I am tired after a long journey,” said the stranger, “and I would like to share a pipe with you, if you don’t mind.” Dung held out his pipe and tobacco, but the stranger said, “I don’t need them. You go on smoking. The smell is enough for me.”

They chatted for a while and waded across the stream together, and little by little they grew friendly. At last the stranger said, “I will be honest with you. I am the head constable of the Underworld, and I serve the Lord of the Great Mountain. You are a constable with a good name up here, and I have a good name down below. We are well matched. Let us swear to be brothers.”

Dung agreed. “But what brings you here?” he asked. “In your district there lives a man named Wang,” said the spirit, “who used to be in charge of the government granaries. Years ago he caused the death of an officer, and that officer has now brought a charge against him in the Underworld. The Lord of the Great Mountain has ruled that Wang’s fortune and his life must be cut short, and I have been sent to fetch him. But first I must report to the god of your town, who will send one of his own spirit constables to take Wang’s soul and hand it over to me.” When Dung asked for more details, the spirit only said, “You will see it all for yourself later.”

That night the spirit stayed with Dung and then went to the temple of the town god. At dawn he came back to say goodbye. “Everything is settled, and I am leaving,” he said. “In two years you will go to Taianfu, the city at the foot of the Great Mountain, and there we shall meet again.” Dung felt very uneasy.

A few days later news came that Wang had died. The district magistrate went to Wang’s home village to pay his respects, and Dung went with him. The innkeeper there was one of Wang’s tenants. “Did anything strange happen when Sir Wang died?” Dung asked him.

“It was all very strange,” said the innkeeper. “My mother had been working hard at his house. She came home with a terrible fever and lay unconscious for a day and a night, barely breathing. She woke on the very day Sir Wang’s death was announced and told us: ‘I went to the Underworld and saw him there. He had chains round his neck and demons were dragging him along. When I asked what he had done, he said there was no time to tell me, but that his wife would explain.’”

“So yesterday my mother went and asked Wang’s widow,” the innkeeper went on, “and she told her the story in tears. Years ago, when Wang ran the granaries in Nanking, he became close friends with a high army officer. One day, over wine, Wang asked how the officer managed on his small pay. Trusting him as a friend, the officer admitted that officers made a little extra on the soldiers’ pay and listed more men on their rolls than really served.”

“Wang could not stop thinking about it. If he reported his friend, the government would be grateful and he would be promoted. But it would be a betrayal of his friend’s trust. For a long time he walked round and round the pavilion in his courtyard with his hands behind his back. At last he sighed and said, ‘Charity begins at home. I will sacrifice my friend.’ He wrote his report, the officer was condemned to death, and Wang was promoted and rose quickly ever after. No one but his wife ever knew.”

“When my mother told the family what she had seen,” said the innkeeper, “they all burst into tears. They sent for Buddhist and Taoist priests, who fasted and read prayers for thirty-five days, and burned mountains of paper money and paper figures to set Wang free. The ceremonies are still going on.” Dung was badly frightened when he heard this.

Two years later Dung was ordered to Taianfu to arrest some robbers. “My spirit friend knew about this journey long before it happened,” he thought. “I must look for him.” At the inn, the innkeeper greeted him by name. “Are you Master Dung from Kaiutschou Bay? The constable of the Great Mountain temple came to me in a dream last night. He described you exactly, told me you were his good friend, and said I must treat you with every honour and take no payment, because he would repay me.”

At midnight the spirit came. Without opening the door, he stood beside Dung’s bed, took his hand and asked how he had been. Dung thanked him for the welcome at the inn. For several days Dung walked on the Great Mountain by day, and every night his friend came to talk with him.

Dung asked what had become of Sir Wang. “His sentence has been given,” said the spirit. “He pretended to be an honest man, but he betrayed his friend to his death. There is no worse sin than that. As punishment he will be born again into the world as an animal.” Then he added, “Look after your health when you get home. Fate has given you seventy-eight years. When your time comes, I will fetch you myself and find you a post as a constable in the Underworld, so that we can always be together.” With that, he vanished.

Where this story comes from

“The Constable” is in Richard Wilhelm’s The Chinese Fairy Book (English by Frederick H. Martens, 1921). Wilhelm calls it a tale of modern origin relative to his collection. His note describes the Lord of the Great Mountain (Taishan) as superior to the god of death and associates his temples with care of the dead. These are the source’s religious and historical descriptions, not universal claims about present-day communities.

Read the original: Richard Wilhelm, The Chinese Fairy Book (Project Gutenberg)

Reading guidance: older children with adult discussion. Includes execution, frightening illness and judgments after death. The spirit’s pronouncements express this tale’s moral world, not a guarantee about real lifespans or afterlife outcomes.

Reading the story closely

The story contrasts two friendships: Dung and the spirit exchange hospitality, while Wang uses a friend’s confidence for promotion. But the officer’s confidence concerns taking soldiers’ pay and falsifying the rolls. Reporting wrongdoing is not automatically betrayal; motive, truth, harm to others and the punishment imposed need separate consideration.

Trace how Dung learns the old event: spirit, innkeeper, mother and widow. Which person claims direct knowledge of which part? Then hold a discussion with three perspectives—Wang, the officer and an unpaid soldier—without assuming that friendship settles every obligation.

Think about it

• How does Dung first realise the stranger is not an ordinary constable?
• Why does the spirit condemn Wang’s motive, and what wrong had the officer himself admitted?
• Why do you think the spirit wants to be Dung’s friend?

You may also like

• The Grateful Ghost — a kind spirit who repays a living man
• The King of Yom-Na Hell — the judges of the dead in Korean folk tales
• The Ghost Who Was Foiled — another Wilhelm ghost tale