The Story of the Zhong Kui Magic Fan Painted by a Maoshan Taoist

In the mid-19th century, a strange incident occurred in a small town at the foot of Maoshan. For three consecutive months, every household in the town was plagued by nightmares. People would scream in their sleep, waking up in a cold sweat with blurry memories of a black shadow lingering at the bedside. The local doctor was at a loss, and the town magistrate, after hearing countless complaints, decided to seek help from the Maoshan Taoist temple on the mountain.​

An elderly Taoist priest named Xuanqing responded to the call. With a face lined like the bark of an ancient pine and eyes as clear as mountain springs, he arrived in the town carrying only a yellow cloth bundle. After listening to the townsfolk’s accounts, he nodded slowly and said, “This is the work of a wandering evil spirit taking advantage of the town’s weakened qi.”​

That night, Taoist Xuanqing set up an altar in the town square. By the light of three oil lamps, he took out a plain bamboo fan, a block of cinnabar, and a wolf hair brush from his bundle. The townsfolk watched in awe as he began to chant ancient incantations, his voice rising and falling like the wind through pine trees.​

Dipping the brush in cinnabar mixed with dew collected at dawn, he started painting on the fan. First came the outline of Zhong Kui’s imposing figure—bushy eyebrows like thunderclouds, eyes burning with righteous anger, and a beard that spread like flames. With each stroke, the townsfolk swore they heard faint cracks of thunder in the distance. Then he added three talismans around Zhong Kui: one for peace, one for health, and one for warding off evil, each with intricate patterns that seemed to twist and move under the lamplight.​

The painting took three hours to complete, and when it was done, the fan seemed to glow with a faint red light. Taoist Xuanqing held it up to the moon, and the shadow of Zhong Kui on the ground appeared to raise its sword, as if ready to strike. “This fan,” he announced, “will drive away the evil spirit. Hang it at the east gate of the town, and your nightmares will cease.”​

The townsfolk did as they were told. That very night, a howling wind swept through the town, rattling doors and windows. Those who dared to peek saw a black mist swirling around the east gate, where the fan was hanging. The mist twisted and shrieked, as if in pain, before dissolving into the air just before dawn.​

The next morning, the town woke up to silence—not the tense silence of before, but the peaceful quiet of a good night’s sleep. No one had nightmares, and the black shadows were never seen again. The fan remained hanging at the east gate for years, its colors fading but its legend growing.​

Taoist Xuanqing never accepted any reward for his deed, only asking the townsfolk to “respect the ways of heaven and live with kindness.” Before leaving, he explained that the power of the fan came not from magic alone, but from the faith of the people and the ancient wisdom of Maoshan Taoism, which teaches that righteousness can always overcome evil.​

To this day, the story of the Zhong Kui magic fan is told in the town at the foot of Maoshan, a reminder of the mysterious connection between humanity, tradition, and the unseen forces that shape our world.