The Tale of "Turning Stone into Fortune"
In the second month of the Dinghai year, Mr. He Xingtong returned from Beijing to his hometown of Sangzhi, and stayed a few days in Zhangjiajie on his way back. He gathered us literary friends to chat, recite poetry, and practice calligraphy—spirited and joyful. The night before his departure, over drinks, I learned that Mr. He was not only skilled in painting and calligraphy but also knowledgeable about rare stones. I suddenly remembered my humble room...
This article is compiled from the original travel notes on the "Zhangjiajie Tour Guide Network" (33519.com); it is a record of trips from earlier years. Time-sensitive information such as ticket prices, schedules, and accommodation prices is subject to the latest announcements from scenic areas and transportation authorities; the itinerary ideas and attraction introductions still have reference value.
In the second month of the Dinghai year, Mr. He Xingtong returned from Beijing to his hometown Sangzhi. On the return journey, he stayed in Zhangjiajie for a few days and, together with us literary friends, either chatted about everything under the sun, or recited poetry and composed verses, or wielded brush and ink. His spirits were high, and our joy was harmonious.
On the evening before his return journey, over a light drink, I learned that Mr. He was not only skilled in calligraphy and painting but had also studied curious stones. It suddenly occurred to me that in my humble room there happened to be a stone that had been placed in the corridor for several years without anyone paying it any attention. If Mr. He now favored it by mistake, perhaps it could be given to someone with a predestined connection—would that not make a fine story? Hearing this, Mr. He immediately invited everyone to come to my home. That stone was placed behind the main door just inside the entrance. Mr. He had someone put the stone on a wooden cabinet, looked it over carefully for a while, and then said, "This stone is good right here!"
At that moment I felt regret, thinking that indeed this stone had no destiny with anyone. This ugly stone was poor in material and unremarkable in appearance, about one chi and three fen tall and weighing about thirty or forty kilograms, and it was born pitch-black. Seen from the front, it had more than ten layers of wrinkles, somewhat like terraced fields, and also like the wrinkles of a laughing Buddha. Seen from the side, it looked both like a person and like a beast, and the wonder lay precisely in this between likeness and unlikeness. Several friends, however, seemed not to see anything remarkable in it. While we were admiring it, Mr. He's attendant Li Wei suddenly walked in and loudly exclaimed, "The stone brings fortune! The stone brings fortune! Good!"
One sentence awakened the dreamer. Mr. He immediately said, "Li Wei's words are golden words. 'The stone brings fortune' means 'time brings fortune.' What an excellent auspicious saying. Congratulations, Kang Xue—your family is going to have good luck."
Photographers Luo Zhaoyong, Luo Zhaorong, and others also suddenly realized it, repeatedly saying it was excellent and all declaring it greatly auspicious, truly a phrase that turns stone into gold. At once they took a group photo as a memento.
My wife and I were also delighted and earnestly invited Mr. He to write an inscription for it so that it could be carved on the stone, and Mr. He readily agreed. Immediately we drove together to the Zhangjiajie Painting Academy run by the painter Chen Zonggong. Mr. He is a master of Chinese wild cursive calligraphy. That very evening, Mr. He took up the brush and wrote eight large cursive characters in parallel: "Shi lai yun zhuan" and "Shi lai yun zhuan." The inscription read, "Words by Li Wei, inscribed by He Xingtong."
The Qing dynasty writer Yuan Mei said in Suiyuan Poetry Talks, "Things too have their good fortune and misfortune." He gave examples of one person who collected an inkstone and another who collected Su Dongpo's stone pot, which were praised in poetry and became treasures, and were even bought back at high prices and given to superiors. Another friend had a fine jade, but because no one praised it, it was long kept in a drawer. This fully shows that things indeed have good fortune and misfortune. Things can become precious because people praise them, and people can become rich because they possess treasures. A stone like ours at home, long left unattended and long unpraised, waited until Mr. He praised it and wrote an inscription for it to be carved—this is truly the stone's good fortune and mine. Yet things may be valued for their rarity or cherished for sentiment. Mr. He's sentiment here is especially weighty, so although this stone is humble, I too should treasure it. The destiny of this ugly stone is also complete.
Among those who witnessed this stone and inscribed words on it at the time were the ci poets Qin Dayu and Zhong Yifu, the painter Chen Zonggong and his wife, and several others, and this was recorded as a memento.