by Guo Xiaoting
When Prime Minister Qin saw that the fire had been put out, he and his wife went inside. She asked, “Why did the Great One become so angry?”
He then told her how the mad monk had used his magic arts to beat the estate managers; how he, the prime minister, had ordered soldiers to surround the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat; and how the soldiers and headmen had brought back the monk in irons. “When I was about to punish him by beating, the inner apartments caught fire. I now have a number of monks locked up in vacant rooms, and at the third watch I intend to beat that insane monk.”
When his wife heard this, she said, “Does the great man need to contend with these ignorant people?” Just as she said these words, a serving woman announced that the evening meal was prepared, and invited the prime minister to partake of it in another room.
Prime Minister Qin said, “We will just have it in here.” A slave girl brought cups and chopsticks, but the prime minister was still too full of his pent-up anger to eat. He drank two small cups of wine and then withdrew from the table. For a while he read a book, but soon put out the light. He seemed to see several roads leading forward, but could not tell where they went. He yielded to his weariness for a while and then drifted toward sleep. Now, with his arm for a pillow, all things began to become indistinct and fade. As he was sinking into a deeper sleep, he heard footsteps.
A deep foggy draft getting colder and colder,
A sound like the wind in a forest so lonely,
A forest in autumn when leaves lose their color,
Then a hoarse, ugly cry like a stricken cow’s bellow
And something or someone was pulled through the door.
Then he saw through the mist as the fog began clearing,
Moving close there beside him a vision from hell,
With a soul still in suffering whose face was familiar
And a hideous goblin repulsive and fierce.
Qin Kuei’s only wish was to shun them and flee.
As Prime Minister Qin looked, he saw a huge, unearthly being come into the room from the courtyard. His face was like black smoke. He wore a dark blue or black satin cap like a soldier’s, divided into six sections by seams, and a short padded jacket of dark cloth. A mesh pocket or string bag was fastened at his waist. Beneath the jacket was a garment with long, dark-red sleeves. Above his large eyes were rounded eyebrows. In his hand he carried a blazing and smoking pitchfork.
Close behind him entered another tall figure clothed all in white, wearing a hat two feet in height. The skin of his face was a sickly, transparent purple, revealing black beneath. In his hand he held a knotty wooden club from which tears fell as if the knots were eyes.
The two stood before the prime minister. Behind them another figure entered. On his head was a kerchief tied with the ends turned up and toward each other in the shape of a Chinese scepter. His robe was embroidered satin and his shoes were those of an official. His face was white and square in shape. In his hands he carried a writing brush and tablet.
One more figure appeared. On his head he wore a soft blue kerchief wound and tied into a turban, while on his body was a robe decorated with medallions of flowers in five colors against a dark-blue background. On his feet he wore soft, dark cloth slippers. His skin was a light, sickly purple in color, his eyebrows heavy and long, shading his widely spaced eyes. His hands were manacled and his ankles in fetters. With his hands he dragged the long chains with which he was bound and the heavy lock that fastened them together. He had a dry, emaciated look. His tangled hair was tied in a loose knot and his beard was like trampled grass.
Prime Minister Qin gazed at him and exclaimed, “Alas!” Yes, it was his adoptive father and patron, Qin Guai, returning home as a baleful ghost! Behind him followed a small demon with a kerchief of glazed material tied about its head. Green clay seemed to cover its face, and above its two protruding golden eyes were pointed vermilion eyebrows. Its body seemed to be painted with lacquer, and around its waist was tied an apron of tiger skin. In its hands it held a huge cudgel studded with wolves’ teeth, which he held close behind the back of Qin Guai.
“My old father!” exclaimed Prime Minister Qin. “I thought that you would have been in heaven long ago. Who would have thought that you could still be suffering in the underworld! Why don’t you go ahead and return now? Tomorrow your child will definitely invite high-ranking Daoists and Buddhists to raise you from suffering, that you may quickly ascend to heaven.”
Qin Guai answered: “Son, for your father’s sake, while you are yet in the world of light occupying your high position, return to the path of virtue before father and son-in-law both go down in the stormy sea. When men inspire hatred, heaven above is angry. Now I am punished in the black depths of hell, suffering every imaginable misery. From there I was ordered by the grand secretary of the Buddhist disciples in heaven to come home to you in this terrible form, to admonish you and to dissuade you from your evil course. You are the embodiment of the prime minister’s office. You must do good deeds, promote the prosperity of all, and be virtuous. You not only failed to do good deeds, but you wanted to destroy a Buddhist building, a monstrous sin of the deepest kind. Because you tried to destroy the Great Memorial Pagoda in the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat and locked up the monks, I want you to listen to my wholesome advice. Release the monks quickly; then restore the Great Memorial Pagoda completely.”
Just as the ghost had spoken to this point, the huge demon with the pitchfork said, “Brothers, take him away.” There was a tremendous roar as the demon shook his flaming iron pitchfork. Qin Guai fell to the ground, was pulled to his feet, and then left with the others.
Prime Minister Qin called to him: “Father, wait! Your child has something more to say!”
But the demons paid no attention simply saying, “Lead on.”
The prime minister was starting forward to grasp him when he suddenly heard the sound of a bell and opened his eyes.
CHAPTER 11
Zhao Bin stealthily visits the estate of Prime Minister Qin; the guiltless Wang Xing is mercilessly punished
In winter, to remember spring’s not far away,
We pile the willow twigs in the roof’s frost,
But wine is given to us that we may drink,
And grieve for sons and grandsons we have lost.
ONCE Prime Minister Qin had his eyes open, he realized that the dream about the demons leading his adoptive father had all come from things that existed only in his imagination. He threw the candle down upon the floor. At that moment a serving woman who was on night duty came into the room and picked up the candle before it could go out. His wife, who was inside the curtained bed, also awoke and asked, “Why is the Great One so disturbed at such trifles?”
Prime Minister Qin replied, “Just now I was reading a book and I had a sudden shock. I fell asleep and entered the land of dreams. There, I saw my old adoptive father and patron returning home as a frightful ghost, chained hand and foot, under the escort of several demon guards. He explained to me my sins in the world of light. I am planning now to stop the work of destruction at the Great Memorial Pagoda and to release all the monks. What do you think, wife?”
When his wife heard this, she laughed and replied, “Great One, you are a true man of books. How can you still believe in such heresies as supernatural powers and disorderly spirits?”
When Prime Minister Qin heard these words from his wife, he again suppressed his heart’s natural goodness. He asked the serving woman what time it was.
She replied, “Just now the third drum sounded.”
Prime Minister Qin said, “Pass on my order that in the third watch I will be at the outer library to conduct a close interrogation of the mad monk. I must punish him severely.”
Just as he spoke these words, they noticed that the candle lantern in the room was making a sound like heavy breathing, and that the flame of the candle had become a foot high. Prime Minister Qin gasped. When he rashly commanded the candle flame to come
back to its usual height, the flame did diminish, but it flared up again and continued moving to and fro like a weaver’s shuttle. The stub of the candle was no larger than a date stone. The room was filled with a green light. After this had happened three times, Prime Minister Qin took down the precious family heirloom sword and pointed it at the candle. Suddenly, the candle began to produce two flames. Prime Minister Qin took another sword and the two flames became four. As the prime minister made slash after slash with his swords, the whole room was filled with the light of candle flames circling and whirling round and round.
Next he heard his wife cry out, “Great One! A demon with a huge head is standing outside the gate. Its head can be seen right up above the screen!”
The serving woman said, “But this is terrible. There is a demon squatting under the table and gnashing its long, ugly teeth! Look quickly by the bamboo blind there! That is one of our local demons. It is actually nodding its head.”
Prime Minister Qin asked his wife to sound the gong calling the household people so that they might come and do battle with the demons. His wife and the serving woman went outside to call for help. The household people outside rushed in upon hearing that demons were bedeviling the inner courtyard and came to a stop in front of the prime minister. As they arrived, they heard a terrible scream. One demon seemed to be wounded and its head was bleeding. The men cried out at the awful sight. One of them shouted, “Honorable Prime Minister, there is a spirit wearing a cangue. It is incredible.” People everywhere had always said that no one had ever seen a ghost wearing a cangue, one of those cumbersome wooden collars worn as a punishment, yet now one had appeared.
“Look, Honorable Prime Minister,” another cried. “There is the spirit of someone who has hanged himself. How dreadful!”
“Honorable Prime Minister, there is a demon with no head!” called still another. “There are also other mischievous spirits.”
Now all these things that seemed to be happening were creations of Ji Gong’s Buddhist arts. At the time that Prime Minister Qin had instructed those twenty household people to confine and guard Ji Gong and the other monks, Qin Sheng had talked with the others gathered on the veranda watching the proceedings. “This business in which we are involved is not a matter for our amusement. Since yesterday I have not slept. Today, again we have this unfortunate business. Let me make a suggestion. Each of us should contribute two hundred cash to buy wine and several kinds of dishes to sustain all of us through the night. At the third watch the honorable prime minister will be sitting officially in the library to question the mad monk closely and severely. We then must not delay or mismanage this business. What do you all think about this?”
Everyone said, “Good, good, good. Let us do just that.” Each of them handed in four small strings of cash. One of them took charge of the purchase of food and wine, and all helped as much as necessary.
As the first watch neared, one of them said, “Let us drink.” And everyone joined in, eating and drinking.
Then Ji Gong said, “Honorable sirs, be compassionate, be compassionate. Won’t you give this poor monk a small cup of wine?”
Qin Sheng replied, “Monks are not supposed to drink wine. Why do you ask us to give it to you?”
Ji Gong answered, “Wine drowns my wicked thoughts, the fifth among forbidden things.”
“But wouldn’t drinking also be a forbidden thing?” Qin Sheng countered.
The monk laughed. “Ah, ha! The honorable manager knows a part, but not the rest. The rest includes many advantages. Heaven has the wine-y stars, earth its wine-y springs. Man has his wine-y divinity, and wine encompasses ten thousand things. Confucius said, ‘Wine is the way, but follow it reverently.’”
Qin Sheng said, “Since you know all these things, I will, after all, give you a cup of wine to drink.” Then he filled a cup to the brim and gave it to the monk.
As he took it, Ji Gong said, “Good! Good! Good! Though the day may have been long, with wine the evening is like the morning of a day of rest and great affairs are but recreation after wine.” After he had finished drinking that cup he said, “Honorable sirs, give me another cup of wine to drink.”
Qin Sheng said, “I just gave you a cup of wine and you ask for more! Truly, you have no sense of self-respect.”
Ji Gong said, “If you do not give me another cup of wine, it is because you do not have as much as a cup of kindness toward others.”
Qin Sheng filled another cup to the brim for him. The monk drank it and said, “Come! Give me one cup more. Make it three cups.”
Qin Sheng replied, “I have no more. It is not that I would not give it to you. Ask someone else.”
Ji Gong gave a great laugh, “Ha, ha! I can drink myself.” He took the wine cup in his hand and said, “Om! I command. Come, come, come!”
Then the others saw the cup fill with wine. The monk drank several cups of wine in succession and put the cup down. When the household people guarding the monk decided that they, too, would like another cup, they went one after another to the wine jug and tipped it, but nothing came out. They all began to say that the one who went to buy the food and wine had kept some of the money. Again they all looked at the jug, but it was indeed empty.
Qin Sheng did not say a word, all talk ceased, and a spirit of sadness settled over them all. Soon they slept, lying this way and that wherever they were. Then they were all transformed temporarily into ghosts and demons and instructed in their roles by Ji Gong.
As soon as the monk had seen that everyone was sleeping throughout the house, he removed his locks and chains and went toward the inner apartments to bestow just retribution. First, however, he looked for those evil servants who had been swaggering about, doing cruel deeds, while depending on their influence with the prime minister for their power. Ji Gong sought them out and gave each one a pinch.
Then he saw a man on the roof of a building to the north side, over the place where the prime minister was sleeping. He was holding in his hand a large knife with which he intended to kill Prime Minister Qin, who hated Ji Gong so much. Looking closely, Ji Gong saw that it was none other than Zhao Bin, the young fruit merchant. He had a string bag fastened at his waist to use in case he decided to carry something away. This was the same Zhao Bin who had helped Ji Gong to restore to its rightful owner the magnificent five-thunder, eight-trigram prince’s tally scroll.
On that occasion, while Zhao Bin had been inside the prime minister’s estate pretending that he was the Wei Tuo, Zhao Bin had met Yin Shixiong, who had once worked with Zhao Bin’s father as an armed escort. The two had returned together to Zhao Bin’s mother. Yin Shixiong had stayed a couple of days and then taken his leave.
Zhao Bin was only a small merchant and was not saving any money for the future. His poor old mother talked to him seriously about taking care of himself and his future. From then on, he became less careless and indolent.
On the morning of the day that Ji Gong was arrested, Zhao Bin had been at the West Lake selling fresh fruit when he saw a large number of soldiers surrounding the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat. He saw someone he recognized and went over to ask what was happening. Then he learned about how Ji Gong had beaten the managers and how Prime Minister Qin had sent the soldiers to surround the monastery, seize Ji Gong, and bring him back. He also heard that Ji Gong no doubt would be beaten to death.
When he heard all this, Zhao Bin was terribly shocked. He thought to himself, “Ji Gong was kind enough to save my own life, and now the reverend gentleman is in deep trouble. How can I not save him? My mother does not want me to go out at night! I have it. I will deceive her. I will wait until she is asleep. Then I will take that big vegetable chopping knife and go to find Prime Minister Qin at his estate, where I will kill him. Thus I will avenge my teacher, the senior monk Ji Gong.”
He slowly returned home. There his mother asked, “Why did you not sell the rest of your fruit today?”
Zhao Bin answered, “Today I did not feel well.”
After the evening meal, as Zhao Bin and his mother were about to go to their beds, they suddenly heard someone knocking at the gate. When Zhao Bin heard it, he felt quite unhappy. He thought to himself, “My mother was just about to go to sleep and then someone knocks at the gate.”
When he went out to look, it was Old Lady Wang from across the way. As soon as she saw him, she said, “Zhao Bin, I have to trouble you about something. Early this morning when my son, Wang Xing, went out, he spread his carpet and arranged the fruit he was selling on the ground near the prime minister’s gate. At exactly noon a man came here, riding in a small sedan chair. He said that my son had just been stricken with cholera, and he took my daughter-in-law away with him. I have not seen either my son or his wife since, and I am very worried. May I trouble you to go and ask about them?”
Zhao Bin immediately agreed to go. He had always done such things with a willing heart. He told his mother, changed his clothes, and took the large vegetable chopping knife with him. When he left, he went straight to the neighborhood of the Qin estate. By this time it was already late. He saw that Wang Xing’s carpet with the fruit spread on it had not yet been taken away. He also saw that a guard named Guo Four was there keeping watch over it. As soon as Zhao Bin saw that the guard was someone he knew, he asked, “Headman Guo, where did my dear brother Wang go?”
Guo Four replied, “Ah, it is you, Zhao Bin. You ask about Wang Xing. Do not mention it. Today at mid-morning the second master, the prime minister’s son, called to him to come in. Wang Xing sold him some fruit amounting to a good deal of money. I was told to keep watch here. I had other things to do, and when he did not come out, I went in and asked about him. Everyone I saw told me not to ask, and no one knew anything.”