Heichū was a lady’s man.
He chased every wife, daughter, and lady-in-waiting he set eyes on.
But there was a minister’s daughter named Jijū, beautiful and smart, who did not fall
for his charms.
As the saying goes, “It’s the hard-to-get booty that makes you go loopy.”
Or something like that.
He sent her love letters, as one did back in the day, but she answered none of them.
One day, he sent a letter pleading with her to just reply to him.
Even a simple acknowledgement. This time she did reply.
Jijū sent him a letter, but in it, she had ripped out the word “acknowledge” from
Heichū’s own letter and sent it right back to him.
It was an insult.
A normal man would have felt offended or hurt.
Heichū only admired her cleverness for preparing such a creative insult.
But at this point, he had encountered the hint, and decided to stop pursuing the infuriating woman.
His resolve lasted a few days until his simp-itus started acting up again.
The fever flared, and the only prescription was more Jijū.
One night, when rain poured from the sky in buckets, he decided to visit his beloved in her house.
Surely she would invite him in rather than let him stand in the storm.
It was a perfect plan.
Guilt is a solid foundation upon which relationships are built.
When he got to her place, a servant did allow him inside.
“I am a genius!” He thought.
The servant told him that Jijū was currently attending to guests and gave him a message
from her, which read, “Please wait a moment, we will talk alone later.”
He waited.
And waited.
For hours.
Finally, he heard sounds of footsteps in the inner rooms, like the party was over and everyone
was going to bed.
Then he heard the sweetest sound, like honey to his nipples.
A latch clicked open, the latch to the inner chamber doors.
Heichū’s palms became sweaty.
His knees were weak, arms were heavy.
Amazingly, it was all going according to plan.
Heichū slipped into Jijū’s chambers and saw her lying there under the blankets.
In the darkness, he felt her hair, soft and silky.
Suddenly, she stood up.
“Oh I need to lock the outer doors,” she said.
“Be right back!”
Jijū ran outside and locked him inside the room while she went to sleep elsewhere.
It was a trick.
Heichū had been teased, trapped, and humiliated.
Foiled again.
On another day, Heichū decided that he needed to get over this woman,
and devised a perfect plan to do so.
You see, no matter how beautiful a woman is,
her bodily wastes would still be as disgusting as anyone else’s.
He would steal her chamber pot and look inside.
The grossness would slap the love out of him, along with the lunch.
So he hid outside Jijū’s room at night and when a servant came out carrying a box,
he yanked the chamberpot and ran away.
It worked, though it was almost too easy.
With a trembling finger, Heichū opened the lid, bracing for impact.
A strong smell hit his nose, but it wasn’t the stench of a toilet.
It was the fragrance of perfume.
That was strange.
Inside the box was a yellow liquid and three brown pieces.
It was obviously human waste but why did it smell so good?
This woman was really not of this world.
The smell was so sweet that he just had to taste it.
And that was how Heichū picked up the box and took a sip.
It tasted pretty good.
He took a bite of one of the brown pieces.
It tasted sweet and pleasant.
What in the world?
And then Heichū figured it out.
The liquid was not a woman’s piss, but water from boiling cloves.
And the solid pieces were nothing more than sweet yams.
Jijū had tricked him.
Foiled again.
Heichū fell even more in love, impressed by her cleverness.
Not because she boiled cloves and cut yams to look like human waste, anyone could do that.
It was because she knew he would steal her chamber pot,
and knew to put fake human waste in it to trick him.
Only an angel could think of such a ploy.
Heichū became so infatuated and depressed that he soon fell ill and died.
For more Japanese folklore, check out these videos on the right.
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