[Classical] Monk with Lampwick

The book, *The Lamp-Wick Monk*, is also known
as *The Dream of the Lamp Flower*, *The Monk's Fate*, or *The Biography of the Extraordinary Monk*. The author remains a mystery. Popular editions attribute it to "Gao Zecheng of Lin'an during the Yuan Dynasty," "Compiled by a Wandering Taoist," and "Commented by Zhou Qiuhong of the Ming Dynasty." Gao Zecheng was a renowned playwright who transitioned from the Yuan to the Ming Dynasty; his masterpiece is the Southern opera *The Story of the Lute*. However, he is not the author of this book. The text mentions two books, *Wild History* and *Anecdotes*, clearly referring to *The Wild History of Zhulin* and *The Anecdotes of Emperor Yang of Sui*, both written during the Qing Dynasty. Therefore, this book was not written by Gao Zecheng of the Yuan Dynasty; it must be the work of an anonymous author from the Qing Dynasty.
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1: The Red Granny's Magic Trick Moves Lady Yang's Firm Heart to Embrace the Monk; Chapter
2: The Three-Inch Monk Becomes a Six-Foot Man, the Forty-Eight Beauty Has Six or Seven Faces; Chapter
3: The Monk Performs a Magical Battle on the Tooth Bed, Lady Yang's Love Willingly Suffers Evil; Chapter 4:
Yang Guan'er's Test of Love Goes Wrong, the Young Monk Dies of Lust;
Chapter 5: Yang Guan'er Seeks a Husband for His Daughter, Li Kebai Tests a Demon on His Wedding Day;
Chapter 6: The Green-Clad Gentleman, Two Beauties at the Wedding Candle, the Red-Robed Woman's Romantic Adventures;
Chapter 7: Adding Fuel to the Fire, Guan'er's Soul Departs from the Water, the Scholar Emerges from Fire. Chapter
Eight: Seven Captures and Releases of the Demon, Once Triumphant; Three Battles, Three Defeats, the Maiden Loses Her Virginity;
Chapter Nine: Three Years of Indulging in Desire, Losing Her Daughter, the Sorrowful Mother Lights a Lamp at Night, Flames Enter Through the Screen ; Chapter
Ten: Performing a Taoist Ritual, the Lamp's Power Appears; Bewitching Colors, Zhou Ziru Enjoys His Mood; Chapter Eleven
: The Foolish Taoist Priest Mistakenly Enters a Bewitching Array, the Little Maid's Adultery at the Dharma Assembly
; Chapter Twelve: Seeking an Old Love, Traveling Across the Hundred-Zhang Plain, Seeking a New Love, Still Inserting a Flower;
Chapter One: The Red Granny's Magic Moves the Lady; Lady Yang's Firm Heart Embraces the Monk;
The Moon is Immersed in the Hook, the Mouse Strains the Water, the Cry of the Wild Goose Reaches the Frosty Sky. Recalling the past, remembering past lives, I am unaccustomed to the desolate mood, especially with the cold night feeling like a year. It is pitiful, I trim the remaining lamp, I wipe away the last smoke. Although the music is still playing, this romance is not over, how can I bear to sleep alone, thinking of my body without wings, my dreams are hard to fulfill. Regret deepens my feelings, the flames of passion raging, but to whom can I speak? My dear, do not coldly lament and complain. The poem
"Remembering the Flute on Phoenix Terrace"
describes a quiet night, fueled by lust, where men and women alike yearn for intimacy and pleasure. While men, after ejaculation, can still enjoy themselves for a while, women readily accept the act, their desire only intensifying until they are emaciated. Why? Because men are fiery, and water extinguishes half their fire; women are water, and fire only intensifies their heat. Thus, throughout history, some men abstain from lust in old age, others in middle age. Women, however, truly find rest only in death. A song, "Lament of Luojiang," testifies to this: "The lamplight slants in
the late night, the south window is closed. The night watchman's drum grows long. I'm too lazy to undo my hair, too lazy to fold my clothes. At dusk, I fear to look at the moon on the horizon, tears streaming down my face. In autumn, I wear silk robes, my body sweating, yet I find the fire too cold for my burning heart."
Watching this performance, one realizes that a woman's desire is especially intense, but if left unprovoked, she remains reserved; once aroused, it knows no bounds. The story goes that at the end of the Yuan Dynasty, there was a county magistrate named Yang, originally from Yunnan and Guizhou, who had moved to Yangzhou. He was a scholar who had passed the imperial examinations. After serving as an official, he amassed a fortune of tens of thousands of taels of silver. His wife, née Wang, was the daughter of a military commander named Wang from Jiangxi. At fifteen, she was forced to give birth to grain for her father and married Yang Guan'er in Yangzhou as his second wife. At seventeen, she gave birth to a daughter but could not have any more children. Her daughter, nicknamed Changgu, was betrothed to the son of a merchant named Li from Xincheng. After Yang Guan'er retired and returned home, the couple, mother, and daughter lived together. This county magistrate, approaching forty, enjoyed leisurely travels. In August of the Renwu year of the Zhengde reign (1512), he took a few drinking companions, hired a boat, and went to Tiger Hill in Suzhou to admire the moon. His wife pleaded with him to no avail, and she was left alone at home in loneliness.
On the fifteenth, the lady stepped out of the front hall alone. Suddenly, an old woman entered. She appeared to be over forty years old, with a ruddy complexion and hair. The old woman gave the lady a deep bow. The lady asked, "Mother, what brings you here?" The old woman replied, "My name is Red Granny. I usually perform magic tricks and frequent the homes of wealthy families. Yesterday, Miss Zhang from the Zhang family came to invite me, and she happened to pass by your door, so I heard that the official in your household was not here. Therefore, I came to perform a magic trick for your amusement." The lady said, "That's good." She told the old woman to sit down and instructed the maid to invite the young lady out to watch the magic trick. After a while, the eldest daughter came out. The old woman gave her a deep bow and asked, "How old are you, young lady?" The lady replied, "I was born when I was seventeen. I am thirty-two years old this year, and my daughter is sixteen." The old woman said, "What a lovely young lady! Even you, madam, don't look thirty-two. You look like sisters." "The lady said, 'I'm old now. I was fine the last two years, but since last year, wrinkles have gradually appeared on my face.' The old woman said, 'No.' The lady said, 'Quickly, perform a magic trick.'
The old woman pointed to the eldest daughter and said, 'Madam, tell the young lady to take off her clothes and see. I've made two red marks on her.' The eldest daughter was shy and refused to take them off. The old woman smiled and pointed to the lady again, saying, 'Madam, be generous and take off your clothes to see.' The lady had no choice but to take off her spring-sleeved jacket and then her embroidered blouse. When she opened them, she saw two plum blossom marks on the edges of her breasts. The lady said, 'That's strange.' She said to the eldest daughter, 'Why not? There are women here. You can take them off and see too.' The eldest daughter refused, but looked into the seams of her clothes and sure enough, there were marks there too. The lady said, 'Mother, if you want to perform a magic trick, why not make one that's lively and jumping for us to see?' The old woman said, 'There is a good one, but it can't be done during the day.'" "If your household can accommodate me for the night, I'll perform a rather strange trick for you, Madam, but we must not look each other in the eye. Even if it's finished, it's fine to watch." The lady said, "If Madam does indeed possess some strange magic, then you may stay here for the night. Madam, please come and sit in my back room." Hearing this, the old woman went upstairs with the lady and the eldest maid. The lady instructed the maids to prepare dinner for the old woman.
It was sunset, and the lamps were lit. Because the old woman had said that they couldn't look each other in the eye, the lady instructed the eldest maid and the maids to sleep in the back room. Without washing her hands or feet, she closed the door and said, "Madam, perhaps you have some method to shrink your genitals? Let's enjoy ourselves for a while." The old woman said, "Since Madam wants to enjoy herself, that's not difficult. Where are the lamp wicks in your household, Madam?" The lady pointed behind the door and said, "There they are." The old woman took out a bundle of oil, about three inches long, lit it over the lamp, and called to the lady of the house to look. The lady approached the lamp, and saw the wick burst open repeatedly. A drop of oil fell onto the table and suddenly transformed into a three-inch-long little monk. He hopped a few times and approached the lady, asking questions. The lady was greatly surprised and said to the old woman, "What is this? Can a two- or three-inch-long person really speak?" The old woman said, "This is my son. If you are willing to raise him, I guarantee you will be happy." She called out, "My son, quickly kowtow to your grandmother."
The little monk walked forward with a grin, knelt down, and said, "Kowtow to your grandmother." The lady was overjoyed and said, "Get up." The little monk stood up, suddenly slipped into the lady's sleeve, and knelt beside her breast, sucking on it until the lady felt numb all over, and her vaginal fluids flowed out. She then said, "Little monk, you don't need to suck anymore, come out." The old woman laughed, "My son, come out! Go to sleep with your grandmother, I'll be right back." She leaped into the lamplight and vanished. The lady exclaimed in surprise, "So it was a fairy!"
A little monk emerged from her sleeve, growing taller until he was six or seven inches long. The lady was terrified, thinking, "Could it be that this little monk knows how to seduce women, and a fairy has sent him to me for my pleasure?" She asked the little monk, "Do you have anything to urinate on?" The little monk lifted his skirt and said, "Yes." The lady opened it and saw only a wick as thick as a lamp wick, a little over an inch long. She laughed, "Useless! Useless! My husband has a six-inch-long, thick whisk, and he's still not satisfied. What use is this little thing to you?" The little monk chuckled, jumped down, and crawled into the lady's trousers, licking her vulva a few times. The lady felt an unbearable tingling and itching, and tried to pull him out, but he only licked harder, trembling as he thrust himself inside her. The lady could only sit on the bench, lying on her back with her legs outstretched, letting him do as he pleased inside. A poem, *Qingjiang Yin*, describes it: "
His bald head is as white as snow, let him pull at his flower core. Rolling in, soft as cotton, hard and hot. Penetrating the spirit, the pretty lady, first leaks. The monk, like an iron pestle, points deep inside. His feet pound her buttocks, his hands rub her belly. Wet and sticky, like raindrops on her flower. Tonight's pleasure is truly rare, she's covered in sweat. She only worries that the monk's head will grind until the petals leak out ten or more times, the monk with his eyes closed."

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[Classical] Monk with Lampwick

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