Not long ago there was an official serving as a district sheriff near the capital, in charge of catching thieves. One thief was being held in shackles, his case not yet settled. While the official was sitting alone in his hall, the man suddenly spoke to him: "I am no thief, and no common man either. If you will free me from this charge, the day will come when I repay you." The official saw that his looks were out of the ordinary and his speech outstanding. In his heart he had already agreed, but he pretended to refuse. After nightfall he secretly called the jailer and had the man released, and told the jailer to run off as well. In the morning the prisoner was missing and the jailer had fled too, and the prefecture did no more than reprimand him.
Later his term ended, and for several years he drifted from place to place, living hard as a traveller. Arriving at a certain county, he suddenly heard that the magistrate bore the same name as the prisoner he had let go. He went to call, sending in his name. The magistrate, startled and alarmed, came out to welcome him with a bow; it was indeed the man he had released. He kept him in his hall, and they slept on facing couches. For more than ten days they enjoyed each other's company, and the magistrate never went into his private quarters. Then one day he did go in. The guest went to the privy, which was separated from the magistrate's quarters by only a wall. From the privy the guest heard the magistrate's wife ask, "What guest do you have, that you haven't come in for ten days?" The magistrate said, "I owe this man a great debt. My life was once in his hands; I am alive today because of him, and I don't know how to repay him." His wife said, "Haven't you heard? A great kindness is never repaid. Why not watch for your chance and act?" The magistrate said nothing. After a long while he said, "You're right."
When the guest had heard this, he went back and told his servants, mounted his horse and left at once, abandoning all his clothes in the hall. By nightfall they had gone fifty or sixty li, crossed the county line, and stopped for the night at a village inn. The servants only wondered at the headlong flight, not knowing the reason. Once he had settled, he told them how the scoundrel had betrayed him, and when he finished he sighed long and hard. While his servants were all weeping, a man suddenly came out from under the bed and stood there holding a dagger. The guest was terrified. But the man said, "I am a man of honor. The magistrate sent me to take your head. Only now, hearing what you said, do I know how he has betrayed you. Otherwise I would have wrongly killed a worthy man. Honor will not let me spare him. Don't go to sleep yet, sir. In a little while I'll bring you the magistrate's head to clear the wrong done to you." The guest, frightened and abashed, thanked him, and the swordsman went out the door with his sword as if flying. By the second watch he was back, calling, "Here is the scoundrel's head." They called for a light to look at it: it was the magistrate's head. The swordsman said his farewells, and no one knew where he went.
