In the winter of the fourth year of the Shaoxi era, Sun Yugong — son of Sun Dang, the Commissioner-in-Chief — was taking his family from Lin’an to Xiangyang, where he had a post on the staff of the Commander-in-Chief. Crossing through Ezhou they left the boat for the road, and put up for the night at a post station.
The servants were aware of thieves moving about outside the gate, and one of the clerks shouted abuse at them. “This is an officer of the Commander-in-Chief’s staff,” he said. “None of your nonsense here.”
After a while things quietened. They ventured to open the door and look out, and it was two tigers, locked together in play.
Once they reached Xiangyang, Sun sent a servant, Cai De, back to look after something. Cai put up for the night at an inn at Wuchang, and found the household there in a commotion, frightened and on edge. He asked, at length, what the matter was.
“Last night,” they said, “the four of us — my father and we three sons — were all still up, gathered round the brazier. Suddenly a tiger came in at the door and squatted down beside the fire. We were terrified out of our wits. We were certain one of us was going to be eaten. We dared not move so much as an inch. We fed the fire and kept it up, and kept watch with it, and it kept watch with us. And the tiger was perfectly at its ease.
“At first light it sprang up and was gone.
“The old woman from next door happened to come for a light just then and met it right at the door. She fell down dead of fright.
“We escaped, but our wits have not settled since; and we are afraid it will come again tonight, and there will be no way out of it for us.”
Cai De changed colour at the telling. He was in terror all night and could not rest on his mat, and did not dare set out until between seven and eleven the next morning.
