Homunculus

Tan Jinxuan, a first-degree graduate of my home district of Zichuan, was a great believer in Taoist yoga. He practised it assiduously for several months, regardless of the weather, and seemed to be making some progress.

One day, he was sitting cross-legged in meditation when he heard a tiny voice inside his ear, buzzing like a fly and saying, 'I think I'm taking shape...'

He opened his eyes, but could see nothing, and the voice was no more to be heard. He closed his eyes, regulated his breathing once again, and the voice returned. This, he thought to himself with secret delight, must surely be the Alchemical Homunculus, the Inner Elixir of Immortality, speaking to him as it neared perfection in his Cinnabar Field.

From that day on, whenever he sat in meditation he heard the voice. He bided his time in silence, waiting for the right occasion, determined to see what the little fellow looked like. And then one day, when it spoke again, he replied, 'Most definitely taking shape...' Whereupon there came the strangest tingling in his ear, as if something was indeed making its way out. He took a peep, and there it was, a minuscule figure of a man twirling around on the ground, barely three inches tall, but in appearance as fierce as a yaksha-demon. Tan was still marvelling at this extraordinary apparition, and trying to compose himself so as to better observe its further metamorphosis, when a neighbour knocked at the door and called out, wanting to borrow something. The homunculus was thrown into a great fluster by the noise and went whirling around the room more frantically than ever, like a demented mouse desperately seeking its hole.

Finally the little man completely vanished from sight, leaving Tan in a state of utter desolation, as if his very soul had gone missing. He was taken with a violent fit and began howling hysterically. Nothing could induce him to be quiet. Physicians prescribed certain medicines, and eventually, after six months, he made a recovery.