OriginChapter 10
Meanwhile, not to speak of Guangrui fulfilling his duties and Xuanzang practicing cultivation, outside Chang’an City, beside the banks of the Jing River, there were two worthies: one was a fisherman named Zhang Shao; the other was a woodcutter named Li Ding. The two were jinshi who had not passed the examinations, mountain men who could read. One day, having sold the firewood on their shoulders and bartered away the carp in their baskets in Chang’an City, they entered a tavern together. After eating and drinking until half drunk, each carrying a flask, they slowly walked back along the banks of the Jing River.
Zhang Shao said, “Brother Li, I think those who contend for fame lose their bodies because of fame; those who seize profit perish for the sake of profit; those who receive rank sleep while embracing a tiger; those who accept favor walk away with a snake up their sleeves. Counting it all up, it is still not as good as our waters being lovely and our mountains green, carefree and at ease, content with simplicity, and passing our days according to circumstances.”
Li Ding said, “Brother Zhang speaks reasonably. But your lovely waters are simply not as good as my green mountains.”
Zhang Shao said, “Your green mountains are not as good as my lovely waters. I have a ci poem, ‘Butterflies in Love with Flowers,’ as proof. It says:
Ten thousand miles of misty waves, a little boat,
Quietly resting beside its lonely sail, the voice of Xishi winding round.
Cleansing thought and washing the heart, with little fame or profit,
Idly plucking the spikes of smartweed and the reeds.
Several sand gulls—enough to delight the Way,
By willow banks and reed inlets, wife and children laughing together.
After one sound sleep, the winds and waves disappear;
No glory, no disgrace, no vexation.”
Li Ding said, “Your lovely waters are not as good as my green mountains. I too have a ci poem, ‘Butterflies in Love with Flowers,’ as proof. It says:
A stretch of clouded forest, thick with pine blossoms,
Silently hearing the orioles sing, their clever tongues like tuned pipes.
Red flowers thin and green leaves grow full, spring is just warm,
Suddenly summer arrives, and time turns onward.
Again autumn comes, easily changing all things;
Yellow flowers fragrant, fit to be enjoyed.
Swiftly severe winter comes, as though pinched between the fingers;
Carefree through the four seasons, controlled by no one.”
The fisherman said, “Your green mountains are not as good as my lovely waters, which provide such fine things. I have a ci poem, ‘The Partridge Sky,’ as proof:
In an immortal land of clouds and waters, livelihood is plentiful;
Poling or rowing a boat—this alone is home.
Fresh scales are cut open alive, green turtles cooked;
Purple crabs steamed at once, red prawns boiled.
Green reed shoots, water-caltrop sprouts,
Water chestnuts and foxnuts are even more worthy of praise.
Tender lotus, aged lotus pods, young celery leaves,
Arrowhead, water bamboo, and bird’s-nest flowers.”
The woodcutter said, “Your lovely waters are not as good as my green mountains, which provide such fine things. I too have a ci poem, ‘The Partridge Sky,’ as proof:
High and precipitous peaks reach the edge of Heaven;
A grass hut and thatched hermitage are my home.
Salted and cured chickens and geese, strong crabs and turtles;
Roe deer, wild boar, rabbits, and deer surpass fish and prawns.
Fragrant toon leaves, yellow ash sprouts,
Bamboo shoots and mountain tea are even more worthy of praise.
Purple plums and red peaches, ripe plums and apricots,
Sweet pears, sour dates, and sweet osmanthus flowers.”
The fisherman said, “Your green mountains truly are not as good as my lovely waters. I have another poem, ‘The Immortal of Heaven’:
A little leaf of a boat, lodging wherever it may;
Ten thousand overlapping misty waves, without fear.
Dropping the hook and casting the net to catch fresh fish,
Without sauce or richness, yet with a flavor all its own; wife and children gather in reunion.
With many fish, I barter in Chang’an City,
Exchanging them for fragrant wine and drinking until drunk.
A straw rain cape serves as a quilt as I lie upon the autumn river;
Snoring loudly in sleep, without worry,
Not coveting the glory and rank of the human world.”
The woodcutter said, “Your lovely waters are still not as good as my green mountains. I too have a poem, ‘The Immortal of Heaven’:
Several rafters of a thatched hut built beneath the mountain,
Pines, bamboo, plum, and orchid—truly lovable.
Passing through forests and crossing ridges to seek dry firewood,
No one blames me; I sell as I please,
Whether little or much, relying upon the world.
With the money, I buy wine, pleased according to my heart;
Tile bowls and ceramic cups are exceptionally free and at ease.
Drunkenly intoxicated, I lie beneath the shade of the pines;
No entanglements, no harm or gain,
Not concerning myself with the rise or fall of the human world.”
The fisherman said, “Brother Li, the business in your mountains is not as carefree as my business upon the waters. I have a poem, ‘The Moon over the West River,’ as proof:
Abundant red smartweed flowers reflected in the moon,
Yellow reed leaves tossing chaotically in the wind.
The blue sky is clear and distant, the Chu River empty,
Drawing and stirring, a pool of stars in motion.
Large fish enter the net in schools;
Small mandarin fish swallow the hooks in clusters.
What is caught is cooked, and its flavor is especially rich;
Laughing proudly and making merry upon the rivers and lakes.”
The woodcutter said, “Brother Zhang, your business upon the waters is still not as carefree as my business in the mountains. I too have a poem, ‘The Moon over the West River,’ as proof:
Withered leaves and dry vines fill the road,
Broken tips and old bamboo fill the mountain.
Dried kudzu and climbing vines tangle and cling;
I break and gather them, binding bundles and cutting loads.
Insect-bored, hollow-hearted elm and willow,
Wind-broken-headed pine and nanmu.
Gathered and piled up to prepare for winter’s cold,
Exchanged for wine or exchanged for money, as I please.”
The fisherman said, “Although your business in the mountains can compare with mine, it is still not as secluded and elegant as my lovely waters. I have a poem, ‘The Immortal by the River,’ as proof:
As the tide falls, I move my lonely skiff away;
Deep in the night, I cease rowing and come singing.
A straw rain cape beneath the waning moon—how secluded!
The resting gulls are startled yet do not rise;
At the edge of Heaven, colored clouds open.
Weary, I lie upon the reed islet, with nothing to do;
Even when the sun rises three poles high, I still linger.
Following my heart and satisfying my wishes, I arrange my life myself.
How could court officials, coldly waiting for the water-clock,
Be like my broad and open heart?”
The woodcutter said, “The secluded elegance of your lovely waters is still not as secluded and elegant as my green mountains. There is also ‘The Immortal by the River’ as proof:
Along a gray path beneath the high autumn sky, I carry my ax away;
In the cool of evening, I lift my load and return.
Wildflowers tucked into my hair—how extraordinary!
Pushing through clouds, I seek the road out;
Waiting for the moon, I call for the gate to open.
Young children and mountain wife happily smile and receive me;
Upon a grass bed and a wooden pillow, I lean and linger.
Steamed pears and cooked millet are quickly laid out;
The new brew in the urn is ripe—
Truly, it strengthens the secluded heart.”
The fisherman said, “All these are the business of the two of us, occupations that sustain the body, but you do not have the pleasures of my idle hours. I have a poem as proof. It says:
Idly watching white cranes fly beneath the vast blue Heaven,
I moor my boat beside the stream and close the green door.
Leaning against the sail, I teach my child to twist hook lines;
Having ceased rowing, I dry the net enclosure with my wife.
When the mind is settled, indeed it is like waves grown still;
When the body is at ease, one naturally feels the wind grow faint.
A green rain cape and blue bamboo hat worn according to the time—
Better than hanging a purple ribbon robe in court.”
The woodcutter said, “Your idle hours are still not as good as my idle hours. I too have a poem as proof. It says:
Idly watching ethereal white clouds fly,
Alone I sit in my thatched hermitage and close the bamboo door.
With nothing to do, I instruct my child to open a book and read;
At times, facing a guest, I take up the game of chess.
When joy comes, I take my staff and sing along fragrant paths;
When inspiration arrives, I carry my qin up the emerald heights.
Grass sandals, a hemp cord, and a coarse-cloth quilt—
A broad heart is more than wearing silk garments.”
Zhang Shao said, “Li Ding, the two of us truly can exchange soft murmurs and keep one another company; there is no need for sandalwood clappers and golden goblets. But merely reciting phrases and poems is nothing rare. Let us each link together several lines and see how our talk of fishermen and woodcutters turns out, shall we?”
Li Ding said, “Brother Zhang’s words are most excellent. Please, Brother, recite first.”
“Moored within green waters and misty waves,
My home lies amid deep mountains and open wilderness.
I especially love the spring waters rising by the creek bridge;
I most cherish the dawn clouds veiling the rocky peaks.
Fresh carp from Dragon Gate, cooked from time to time;
Dry firewood bored by insects, burned and warmed day after day.
Many kinds of fishing nets suffice to support old age;
Two things—a carrying rope and a load—can sustain one to the end.
Lying on my back in a little boat, I watch flying wild geese;
Leaning askew along a grassy path, I listen to the cries of swans.
In the arena of tongues, I have no part;
Across the sea of right and wrong, my traces are few.
Beside the stream, hanging and drying silk like brocade;
Upon a stone, repeatedly sharpening an ax until it is like a blade.
The autumn moon shines brightly, and I often fish alone;
The spring mountains are silent and still, and I meet no one.
With many fish, I exchange them for wine and drink with my wife;
With firewood remaining, I buy a flask and gather with my children.
Singing to myself and pouring for myself, following my abandon;
Long songs and long sighs, yielding to the wild wind.
Calling brothers and summoning younger brothers, inviting boat companions;
Bringing friends and carrying companions, gathering with rustic elders.
Giving commands and guessing at fists, passing cups again and again;
Cutting cards and speaking of characters, casually passing round the bell.
Cooking prawns and boiling crabs, joy every morning;
Frying ducks and stewing chickens, abundance every day.
My foolish wife brews tea with feelings loose and plain;
My mountain wife prepares food with an easy and unhurried manner.
At dawn I raise my staff and sift through gentle waves;
At sunrise I shoulder firewood and cross the Great Torrent.
After rain I put on my straw rain cape and seize live carp;
Before the wind I wield my ax and fell withered pines.
Hiding my tracks to avoid the world, disguising myself as foolish and stupid;
Concealing my name and burying my identity, acting deaf and dumb.”
Zhang Shao said, “Brother Li, I presumptuously began the first line; now that it is my brother’s turn, you should also begin a couplet, and your younger brother will continue it.”
“Feigning madness amid mountains and wilderness, a man of the rivers and lakes;
Entrusting his pride to rivers and lakes, an old, unranked commoner.
清閑有分隨瀟灑，口舌無聞喜太平。
月夜身眠茅屋穩，天昏體蓋箬簑輕。
忘情結識松梅友，樂意相交鷗鷺盟。
With no thought of fame or gain in my heart, I hear not the sound of weapons by my ears.
At leisure, whenever the time comes, I drink a cup of fragrant wine; I pass the day on three meals of wild-vegetable soup.
Two bundles of firewood are my means of living; one rod, hook, and line are my livelihood.
Idly I call the young child to sharpen the steel ax; quietly I call the simple lad to mend the old silk.
When spring arrives, I love to watch the willows turn green; when the season warms, I delight in seeing the reeds and rushes grow blue-green.
In summer I avoid the heat by tending new bamboo; in the sixth month I enjoy the cool while plucking tender water caltrops.
When the frost descends and the chickens are fat, I slaughter them on ordinary days; when the Double Ninth comes and the crabs are plump, I cook them at the proper time.
When winter comes and the sun rises, I still sink back into sleep; during the Nine Nines, with the sky high, I naturally do not feel cold.
Among the mountains, I follow my nature through the Eight Seasonal Festivals; upon the lakes, throughout the four seasons, I freely indulge my feelings.
Gathering firewood naturally has the interest of an immortal’s household; hanging out a fishing line has none of the appearance of worldly custom.
Outside the gate, wild flowers are fragrant and brilliant; at the bow of the boat, the green water lies in level waves.
When the body is at peace, I do not speak of the rank of the Three Ducal Ministers; when the nature is settled, it is stronger than a city ten li in circumference.
A city ten li high is guarded by gate commands; the rank of the Three Ducal Ministers is prominent and hears the sound of proclamations.
To delight in mountains and delight in water is truly rare; I thank Heaven, thank Earth, and thank the divine spirits.”
The two men had each recited his verses and had also joined their poetic lines together. When they came to the place where the road divided, they bowed and took leave of each other. Zhang Shao said, “Brother Li, take care along the road. Be careful of tigers when going up the mountain. If you should encounter some danger, it would truly be, ‘Tomorrow there will be one fewer old friend on the street.’” Hearing this, Li Ding grew furious and said, “You lazy rogue! Even good friends can share life and death; how can you curse me? If I encounter a tiger and come to harm, you will surely encounter waves overturning your river.” Zhang Shao said, “I shall never in all my life have my river overturned.” Li Ding said, “‘In Heaven there are unforeseen winds and clouds; among men there are temporary disasters and blessings.’ How can you guarantee that nothing will happen?” Zhang Shao said, “Brother Li, although you speak thus, you still have no certainty; my livelihood, however, has certainty, and I surely will not suffer such a thing.” Li Ding said, “Your livelihood upon the water’s surface is exceedingly dangerous and perilous, hidden and obscure. What certainty is there?” Zhang Shao said, “You do not know. In this city of Chang’an, on West Gate Street, there is a gentleman who sells divinations. Every day I deliver him one golden carp, and he secretly transmits a divination to me in his sleeve. According to the direction, it is accurate a hundred times out of a hundred. Today I went again to purchase a divination, and he instructed me to cast my net on the eastern side of the bend of the Jing River and throw my hook from the western bank. I am certain to return with a full load of fish and shrimp. Tomorrow I shall come up to the city, sell them for money, buy wine, and meet again with my old brother.” Thus the two men took their leave of each other.
This was precisely the case of: “While words are spoken on the road, someone is in the grass.” As it happened, in the water palace of the Jing River there was a Yaksha who patrolled the waters. Hearing the words “accurate a hundred times out of a hundred,” he hurried back to the Crystal Palace and anxiously reported to the Dragon King, saying, “A calamity! A calamity!” The Dragon King asked, “What calamity?” The Yaksha said, “While I was patrolling the waters and came to the riverbank, I heard two fishermen and woodcutters chatting. When they parted, their words were exceedingly serious. That fisherman said: In Chang’an, on West Gate Street, there is a diviner who calculates with the greatest accuracy. Every day he gives him one carp, and the man secretly transmits a divination to him in his sleeve, teaching him to be accurate a hundred times out of a hundred. If his calculations are truly so accurate, will he not catch all the water creatures? How then shall the water palace be made magnificent? How shall we leap through waves and turn the billows, assisting Your Majesty’s might?”
The Dragon King was greatly enraged. He hastily seized his sword and was about to go to Chang’an to exterminate this diviner. From the side stepped forth the Dragon Sons, Dragon Grandsons, Shrimp Ministers, Crab Gentlemen, Shí Military Adviser, Guì Junior Chamberlain, and Carp Grand Steward, who all together submitted a memorial, saying, “Great King, please first calm your anger. As the common saying goes: ‘Words that merely pass the ears must not be believed.’ If Your Majesty goes there, clouds will surely follow, and rain will surely assist you. We fear that the common people of Chang’an will be frightened, and Heaven will hold you accountable. Your Majesty’s concealment and manifestation are unfathomable, and your transformations have no fixed form. You need only transform into a young scholar and inquire within Chang’an City. If such a person truly exists, it will not be too late to put him to death; if no such person exists, would that not be a wrongful harming of another?”
The Dragon King followed their memorial. He therefore cast aside his precious sword and did not raise clouds or rain. He went ashore and shook his body, transforming into a white-robed young scholar, truly:
His bearing was handsome and lofty, rising above ravines and reaching the firmament.
His steps were upright and dignified; he followed rules and observed propriety.
His speech adhered to Confucius and Mencius; his manners embodied the rites of Zhou.
He wore a jade-colored gauze-lapel robe and on his head a carefree one-character kerchief.
He set out upon the road, opening into cloudlike strides, and went straight to the great street by Chang’an’s West Gate. He saw only a cluster of people, pressed together in confusion, noisy and clamorous. Among them was someone speaking at length and expansively: “Those born in the Dragon sign have their natal destiny; those born in the Tiger sign clash with them. Yin, Chen, Si, and Hai, although called a harmonious configuration, are nevertheless to be feared when the day offends the Year Lord.”
Hearing this, the Dragon King knew that this was the place where divinations were sold. He stepped forward, parted the crowd, and looked inside. He saw:
Pearls and jewels adorned the four walls; splendid silks filled the entire hall.
The precious duck burned incense without cease; the porcelain vase held such clear water.
Paintings by Wang Wei were displayed in rows on either side; above the seat hung a likeness of Guigu.
Duanxi inkstone and golden-smoke ink set off the great frost-tipped brush;
the Fire Pearl Forest and Guo Pu’s calculations were carefully matched against the new Classic of Court Governance.
The Six Lines were thoroughly familiar; the Eight Trigrams were mastered with precision.
He could know the principles of Heaven and Earth and was skilled in understanding the feelings of ghosts and spirits.
With one divination board, the Zi and Wu were arranged and fixed; within his belly, the stars and constellations were clearly arrayed.
Truly, matters yet to come and matters already past he viewed as in a moon mirror;
which families would rise and which families would fall, he examined as though by divine intelligence.
He knew misfortune and determined good fortune; he pronounced death and spoke of life.
When he began to speak, wind and rain came swiftly; when he set brush to paper, ghosts and spirits were startled.
On the signboard were written his name and surname: Divination Master Yuan Shoucheng.
Who was this person? As it turned out, he was none other than Yuan Shoucheng, the paternal uncle of Yuan Tiangang, the gentleman who was then the Director of the Imperial Observatory. This gentleman truly had extraordinary features and handsome bearing; his fame was renowned throughout the great kingdom, and his arts surpassed all in Chang’an.
The Dragon King entered through the door and met the gentleman. After the rites were completed, he invited the Dragon King to sit above, and a young attendant offered tea. The gentleman asked, “What matter has brought you to inquire?” The Dragon King said, “Please divine what the weather in Heaven will be like.” The gentleman immediately transmitted a divination in his sleeve and pronounced, “Clouds obscure the mountain summit; mist envelops the tips of the forest. If one divines concerning rain, it will certainly come tomorrow morning.”
The Dragon King said, “At what hour tomorrow will the rain fall? How many units of rain will there be?” The gentleman said, “At the hour of Chen tomorrow, clouds will spread; at the hour of Si, thunder will arise; at the hour of Wu, rain will fall; at the hour of Wei, the rain will be sufficient. In all, there will be three chi, three cun, and forty-eight points of water.”
The Dragon King laughed and said, “These words must not be made in jest. If there is rain tomorrow according to the hours and amount you have stated, I shall send you fifty taels of divination gold as thanks. If there is no rain, or if it does not accord with the hours and amount, I shall tell you plainly: I will surely smash the front of your establishment, tear your signboard to pieces, immediately drive you out of Chang’an, and not permit you to deceive the people here.”
The gentleman replied cheerfully, “That is entirely up to you. Please do so, please do so. Come back tomorrow after the rain.”
The Dragon King took his leave, departed Chang’an, and returned to the water palace. The water deities, great and small, received him and asked, “Great King, how did your visit to that diviner go?” The Dragon King said, “There is such a person, there is, there is. But he is merely a glib gentleman who makes his living by his mouth. I asked him when the rain would fall, and he said it would rain tomorrow. I asked him at what hour and what amount of rain, and he said that at the hour of Chen clouds would spread, at the hour of Si thunder would arise, at the hour of Wu rain would fall, and at the hour of Wei the rain would be sufficient, yielding three chi, three cun, and forty-eight points of water. I made a wager with him: if it is truly as he said, I shall give him fifty taels in thanks; if it differs even slightly, I shall smash the front of his establishment, drive him away, and not permit him to deceive the people in Chang’an.”
All the water creatures laughed and said, “Great King, you are the Chief Superintendent of the Eight Rivers, the Great Dragon God in charge of rain. Whether there is rain or not is known only to Your Majesty. How dare he speak such nonsense? That diviner has certainly lost, certainly lost.”
At this time, the Dragon Sons, Dragon Grandsons, Fish Minister Yu, and Scholar Crab were still laughing and discussing this matter when they suddenly heard someone calling from midair: “The Dragon King of the Jing River receives the imperial edict.” Everyone raised their heads to look and saw a strongman in golden garments, holding the Jade Emperor’s edict in his hand, coming straight toward the Water Palace. The Dragon King hurriedly straightened his robes, composed himself, burned incense, and received the edict. The strongman in golden garments returned to the sky. The Dragon King gave thanks for the imperial favor, then broke open the seal and looked. Written upon it was:
Edict commands the governor of the eight rivers,
Drive thunder and draw lightning into motion:
Tomorrow morning bestow rain and grace,
Widely aid the city of Chang’an.
The time and amount stated in the edict were not off by the slightest hair from the gentleman’s judgment. The Dragon King was so terrified that his soul flew from his body and his spirit scattered. After a little while he revived and said to all the aquatic creatures: “In the mortal world there is such a numinous man. He truly is able to comprehend the principles of Heaven and Earth. Yet I cannot yield to him!” Military Adviser Shí presented a memorial, saying: “Great King, put your mind at ease. What difficulty is there in defeating him? I have a small plan that will certainly silence that fellow’s mouth.” The Dragon King asked him for the plan, and the military adviser said: “If we send the rain at the wrong hour and make the number of points somewhat fewer, then that fellow’s divination will have been inaccurate. How could we fail to defeat him? At that time we will smash his signboard and drive him away. What difficulty could there be?” The Dragon King followed his advice and indeed was no longer worried.
The next day, he summoned Wind Uncle, Thunder Duke, Cloud Youths, and Lightning Mother, and went straight up into the nine heavens above Chang’an City. He waited until the hour of the Snake before spreading the clouds, sent forth thunder at the hour of the Horse, let the rain fall at the hour of the Goat, and stopped the rain at the hour of the Monkey, but there were only three chi and forty points. He changed the time by one shichen and reduced the amount by three cun and eight points. After the rain, he dismissed all the generals to return to their stations. He then lowered the head of the clouds and again changed himself into a white-robed scholar. He went to the great street inside the West Gate and burst into Yuan Shoucheng’s divination shop. Without allowing a word to be spoken, he smashed his signboard, brush, inkstone, and the rest all together. The gentleman sat in his chair and, quite openly, did not move. The Dragon King then raised a door panel and struck at him, cursing: “You demon who recklessly speaks of fortune and misfortune, you lout who presumptuously deludes the hearts of the multitude! Your divination is not efficacious, and your words are wild and absurd. You said that today’s time and amount of rain would correspond, yet they correspond in neither respect. You still sit loftily here? Leave at once, and I will spare you the death penalty!” Shoucheng remained quite openly unafraid in the least. He raised his face toward Heaven and coldly laughed: “I am not afraid, I am not afraid. I have committed no capital offense; I fear only that you, instead, have committed one. Others may be deceived, but it is difficult to deceive me. I recognize you. You are no scholar, but the Dragon King of the Jing River. You disobeyed the Jade Emperor’s edict, changed the time, reduced the amount, and violated the laws of Heaven. On that Dragon-Slicing Platform, you will likely find it difficult to escape a single stroke. And you still curse me here?” When the Dragon King heard this, his heart was startled and his courage shaken; his hair stood on end and his flesh crawled. He hurriedly threw down the door panel, straightened his robes, bowed in ceremony, and knelt before the gentleman, saying: “先生, do not be offended. My earlier words were only in jest. Who could have known that falsehood would become true, and that I would indeed violate the laws of Heaven? What can be done? I beg 先生 to save me once; otherwise, even in death I will not release you.” Shoucheng said: “I cannot save you. I can only point out a road to life for you to follow.” The Dragon said: “I am willing to receive your instruction.” The gentleman said: “Tomorrow, at the third quarter of the hour of the Horse, you are to go to the office of the human official Wei Zheng and submit to execution. If you truly want to preserve your life, you must hasten to inform the present Tang Taizong Emperor. Wei Zheng is the prime minister under the Tang King. If you obtain a personal favor from him, only then can you ensure that nothing happens.”
Hearing this, the Dragon King bowed, took his leave with tears in his eyes, and departed. Before he knew it, the red sun sank in the west, and the Great Yin Star rose. Only this was seen:
Smoke congeals, the mountains turn purple, returning crows grow weary;
Travelers on distant roads seek lodging at the inn.
New wild geese at the ferryhead sleep upon the sandbars;
The Milky Way appears, the watches are urged on,
The lone village’s lamplight glows without a flame.
The wind curls the stove smoke through the pure Daoist court;
In the butterfly dream, the person is nowhere seen.
The moon shifts, flower shadows climb the balustrade;
The starlight scatters, the dripping clepsydra changes,
And before one knows it, the deep night is already half gone.
The Dragon King of the Jing River did not return to the Water Palace, but remained in the air. When the time around midnight arrived, he gathered in the head of the clouds, drew in the corners of the mist, and came straight to the gate of the imperial palace. At this time, the Tang King was dreaming that he had gone beyond the palace gate, walking beneath the moon in the shade of the flowers. Suddenly the Dragon King transformed into human form, went forward, knelt in worship, and cried aloud: “Your Majesty, save me, save me.” Taizong said: “Who are you? I will save you.” The Dragon King said: “Your Majesty is a true dragon; I am a karmic dragon. Because I violated the laws of Heaven, I am to be executed by Your Majesty’s worthy minister, the human official Wei Zheng. Therefore I have come to bow and beg. I hope Your Majesty will save me once.” Taizong said: “Since Wei Zheng is to execute you, I can save you. Go forward without worry.” The Dragon King rejoiced, bowed in thanks, and departed.
Yet when Taizong awoke from his dream, he kept thinking of it. It was already the third point of the fifth watch. Taizong established court and gathered the civil and military officials of both ranks. Only this was seen:
Smoke enshrouds the Phoenix Towers, incense fills the Dragon Hall.
Light trembles and stirs the vermilion screen; clouds brush the flowing green canopy.
Sovereign and ministers, united as Yao and Shun, accord together;
Rites and music, solemn and august, approach Han and Zhou.
Attendant ministers bear lamps, palace women hold fans, paired and paired reflecting splendor;
Peacock screens and Qilin halls, everywhere light floats.
The mountains cry “Long live,” splendid blessings wish a thousand autumns.
The silent ceremonial whip sounds three times; robes and caps bow before the imperial crown.
Palace flowers blaze, heavenly fragrance assails; embankment willows bend softly to the imperial music.
Pearl curtains, kingfisher curtains, their golden hooks raised high;
Dragon-and-phoenix fans, mountain-and-river fans, the jeweled carriage waits.
Civil officials are handsome and distinguished; military commanders are spirited and vigorous.
The imperial way separates high from low; the vermilion steps array the ranks of every grade.
Golden seals and purple ribbons ride the three elephants;
May earth endure and Heaven remain for ten thousand and ten thousand autumns.
After all the officials had finished paying court and congratulations, they each separated into their ranks. The Tang King flashed phoenix eyes and dragon pupils, looking over them one by one from the beginning. Among the civil officials he saw Fang Xuanling, Du Ruhui, Xu Shiji, Xu Jingzong, Wang Gui, and the others; among the military officials were Ma Sanbao, Duan Zhixuan, Yin Kaishan, Cheng Yaojin, Liu Hongji, Hu Jingde, Qin Shubao, and the others. Every one of them was solemn and dignified, yet the prime minister Wei Zheng was nowhere to be seen. The Tang King summoned Xu Shiji into the hall and said: “Last night I had a strange dream. I dreamed that a man came before me and bowed, calling himself the Dragon King of the Jing River. He had violated the laws of Heaven and was to be executed by the human official Wei Zheng. He bowed and begged me to save him, and I promised him. Today, alone among those assembled before the court, I do not see Wei Zheng. Why is this?” Shiji replied: “This dream has given a true indication. Wei Zheng must be summoned to court. Your Majesty must not let him leave the palace gate. Once this day has passed, the dragon in the dream can be saved.” The Tang King was greatly pleased. He immediately issued an edict ordering the attending official to proclaim Wei Zheng’s entry into court.
Now, Prime Minister Wei Zheng was at his residence, observing the celestial signs at night and burning precious incense, when he suddenly heard a crane cry in the nine heavens. It was in fact an immortal envoy sent by Heaven, bearing one golden edict of the Jade Emperor, ordering him at the third quarter of the hour of the Horse to slay the old Dragon King of the Jing River in a dream. The prime minister gave thanks for Heaven’s favor, abstained from grain, bathed, and tested the Wisdom Sword in his residence, circulating his primordial spirit. For this reason he had not gone to court. When he saw the attending official arrive bearing the summons, he was filled with limitless fear and dread. Yet he did not dare to delay or disobey the command of his sovereign, and could only hastily straighten his robes and fasten his belt, entering court together with the edict and kowtowing before the imperial presence to request punishment. The Tang King said: “I pardon you; you are without offense.” At that time the various ministers had not yet withdrawn from court, but now he ordered the curtains rolled up and the court dismissed. He alone retained Wei Zheng, summoned him up to the Golden Carriage Hall, and called him into the private hall. First they discussed strategies for securing the state and plans for settling the realm. As the end of the hour of the Snake and the beginning of the hour of the Horse approached, he ordered the palace women: “Bring out the great chessboard. I shall play one game against my worthy minister.” The many consorts promptly brought the chessboard and set it upon the imperial table. Wei Zheng gave thanks for the favor, then played against the Tang King, alternating move by move and laying out their formations. It precisely accords with the *Classic of Lanke*:
The way of playing go prizes rigor. The high stones belong in the center, the low stones at the edges, and the middle stones at the corners; these are the customary rules of the go player. The rule says: “It is better to lose one stone than to lose the initiative.” When striking on the left, look to the right; when attacking behind, keep watch before you. Sometimes there is initiative first and aftermath later; sometimes aftermath comes first and initiative later. Do not cut two living groups; when both are alive, do not connect them. A broad formation must not be too scattered, and a tight formation must not be too cramped. Rather than cling to stones in seeking life, it is better to abandon them and gain victory; rather than move alone when there is nothing to do, it is better to secure them and make one’s own reinforcement. If they are many and we are few, first plan for their life; if we are many and they are few, strive to expand our momentum. Those skilled at winning do not contend; those skilled at arraying do not fight; those skilled at fighting do not lose; those skilled at losing do not become confused. In go, one begins by meeting the opponent with the orthodox, and ends by winning through the unorthodox. Whenever the enemy, having nothing to do, makes a move to reinforce himself, he has the intention of invading and severing; when he abandons a small group without saving it, he has designs upon something greater; one who plays according to the hand is a man without plans; one who responds without reflection follows the way to defeat. The *Book of Odes* says: “Trembling, cautious, and watchful, as though standing before a ravine.” This is what it means.
The poem says:
The go board is earth, the stones are heaven;
Their colors follow yin and yang, complete in the workings of creation.
When the moves reach the mysterious and subtle realm of transformation,
One laughs and boasts of the immortal of Lan Ke in those days.
The sovereign and minister were playing against each other. The game had just reached the third quarter of the hour of Horse, and a lingering game was not yet finished, when Wei Zheng suddenly bent over beside the table and fell into a snoring doze. Taizong laughed and said: “Worthy minister, your heart devoted to supporting the state has truly been wearied, and your strength spent in establishing the realm has truly been exhausted; thus you have fallen asleep without realizing it.” Taizong let him sleep and did not call him. Before long, Wei Zheng awoke, prostrated himself upon the ground, and said: “Your minister deserves ten thousand deaths, your minister deserves ten thousand deaths! Just now I was weary and overcome, and did not know what I was doing. I beg Your Majesty to pardon your minister’s crime of slighting his sovereign.” Taizong said: “What crime of slighting have you committed? Rise, sweep away the unfinished game, and begin anew with me.”
Wei Zheng gave thanks for the favor. Just as he had taken a stone between his fingers, he suddenly heard loud shouting and cries outside the court gate. It turned out to be Qin Shubao, Xu Maogong, and the others, who carried a blood-drenched dragon’s head and threw it before the Emperor. They reported: “Your Majesty, we have seen the sea grow shallow and the river run dry, but never have we heard of such an extraordinary event.” Taizong and Wei Zheng rose and said: “Where did this thing come from?” Shubao and Maogong said: “On the Crossroads south of the Thousand-Pace Corridor, this dragon’s head fell from among the clouds. Your ministers dared not fail to report it.” The Tang King asked Wei Zheng in alarm: “What is the meaning of this?” Wei Zheng turned, knocked his head upon the ground, and said: “It is the one I just now slew in a dream.” Hearing this, the Tang King was greatly astonished and said: “Worthy minister, when you were dozing, I saw neither your body move nor your hands act; there was no knife or sword either. How then did you slay this dragon?” Wei Zheng reported: “My sovereign, my body was before Your Majesty, while my dream departed from Your Majesty. My body was before Your Majesty, facing the unfinished game, with my eyes closed in a haze; in my dream I departed from Your Majesty, riding a propitious cloud, my spirit vigorous and alert. That dragon was bound among the heavenly soldiers on the Dragon-Flaying Platform. I said: ‘You have violated the laws of Heaven and deserve death. By Heaven’s command, I shall cut short your remaining life.’ When the dragon heard these words, it wailed in misery, and your minister roused his spirit. Hearing the dragon’s sorrow, it bowed its claws and drew in its scales, willingly accepting death; your minister roused his spirit, lifted his robe, advanced a step, and raised his frost-bright blade. With a kacha, the blade passed through, and the dragon’s head thereby fell into empty space.”
Hearing this, Taizong felt both sorrow and joy in his heart. His joy was that Wei Zheng was a good minister, and that with such a hero in the court, how could he worry that the realm would not be secure? His sorrow was that in his dream he had once promised to save the dragon, yet unexpectedly it had met execution. He could only force himself to gather his spirit and issue an edict ordering Shubao to hang the dragon’s head in the market square and proclaim the matter to the common people of Chang’an. At the same time, he rewarded Wei Zheng, and all the officials dispersed.
That evening he returned to the palace, his heart filled with nothing but worry and gloom. He thought of the dragon in his dream, weeping and crying as it sorrowfully begged for life; who could have known that, in the face of impermanence, it would be unable to escape this calamity? After thinking of it for a long while, he gradually felt his spirit and soul weary, and his body uneasy. At the second watch that night, he suddenly heard sounds of wailing outside the palace gate, and Taizong became even more terrified. Just as he was sleeping in a hazy state, he again saw the Dragon King of the Jing River carrying a blood-soaked head in his hand and shouting loudly: “Tang Taizong, give me back my life! Give me back my life! Last night you promised with your every word to save me. How is it that at dawn you instead proclaimed the arrival of the human-realm execution official to slay me? Come out, come out! I shall go with you to the King of Hell and argue the case before him.” He seized Taizong and clamored repeatedly, refusing to let go. Taizong’s mouth was clamped shut and he could not speak; he could only struggle as sweat poured over his entire body.
Just as the matter was at its most entangled and insoluble, fragrant clouds were seen winding above the south, and colored mists drifting and floating. A female immortal came forward and waved a willow branch with her hand. The headless dragon, weeping bitterly, went straight toward the northwest. It turned out that this was Guanyin Bodhisattva, who, bearing the Buddha’s decree, had come to the Eastern Land to seek the person destined to obtain the scriptures. She was staying at the City God’s Earth Temple in Chang’an. Hearing the cries of ghosts and wails of spirits at night, she had come especially to drive away the karmic dragon and save the Emperor. As for the dragon’s going straight to the prisons of the underworld to make a full complaint, that will not be discussed here.
Now Taizong awoke and cried only: “There are ghosts! There are ghosts!” The three palace empresses, the six courts of consorts, and the eunuchs in attendance were so frightened that they trembled and passed the entire night without sleep.
Before they knew it, the fifth watch had reached its third point, and all the civil and military officials of the court were waiting outside the court gate for the morning audience. When daylight came, they still did not see the Emperor attend court, and each one was frightened and hesitated anxiously. When the sun had risen three poles high, an edict finally came forth: “朕’s heart is unwell; all officials are excused from court.” Before they knew it, five or seven days had passed. The officials were all distressed and alarmed, and were just about to break through the gate to see the Emperor and ask after his safety, when an edict from the Empress Dowager summoned the medical officials into the palace to administer medicine. Everyone waited outside the court gate for news. After a short while, the physicians came out, and all asked what illness afflicted him. The physicians said: “The Emperor’s pulse is irregular, weak yet rapid, and he speaks wildly of seeing ghosts. We also diagnosed a pulse in which, after ten beats, one beat is interrupted; the five viscera have no qi. We fear that, if he is not spared, his death will come within seven days.” Hearing this, all the officials were greatly astonished and lost color in their faces.
While they were in dismay, they again heard that the Empress Dowager had issued an edict summoning Xu Maogong, the Protector of the State Duke, and Yuchi Gong to attend the Emperor. The three dukes received the edict and hurried into the palace, arriving below the Fen-Palace Tower. After they had paid their respects, Taizong composed his face and forced himself to speak: “Worthy ministers, at nineteen I took command of troops. I campaigned south and north, repelled enemies east and west, and endured hardship for many years. Never have I seen the slightest evil spirit, yet today I have instead seen ghosts.” Yuchi Gong said: “Having established the realm and killed countless men, why should Your Majesty fear ghosts?” Taizong said: “You do not believe it. Outside the gate of my sleeping palace, as soon as night falls, bricks are thrown and roof tiles are tossed, while ghosts and demons cry out. It is truly difficult to endure. During the day it can still be borne; in the dark of night it is impossible to withstand.” Shubao said: “Your Majesty, set your mind at ease. Tonight Jingde and I shall guard the palace gate and see what sort of ghosts and demons there are.” Taizong approved the memorial. Maogong gave thanks for the favor and withdrew.
That day, when evening fell, they each donned their armor. The two of them, clad in complete mail and helmets, stood guard outside the palace gate, holding golden melon-shaped maces and yue axes. What gallant generals! Look how they were dressed:
Upon his head a golden helmet flashed and glittered;
About his body armor gleamed like dragon scales.
A protective heart-guard mirror swayed with auspicious clouds;
The lion-patterned fastening was drawn tight,
And the embroidered belt was fresh with colored clouds.
One bore phoenix eyes gazing toward Heaven, enough to make the stars and constellations fear;
The other had ringed eyes reflecting lightning, with the moon’s light floating upon them.
They had once been heroic and outstanding meritorious ministers;
Now they were left to be called the Door Commandants for a thousand years,
And to serve as the Door Gods for ten thousand ages.
The two generals stood at either side of the gate. When dawn came, they had not seen the slightest evil spirit. That night Taizong remained in the palace and slept peacefully, with nothing happening. At dawn he summoned the two generals and repeatedly rewarded and commended them, saying: “Since I fell ill, I have been unable to sleep for several days. Tonight, relying upon the might of the two generals, I was exceedingly at peace. You may withdraw and rest for a while; when evening comes, guard me once more.” The two generals gave thanks for the favor and withdrew.
Thus, for the next two or three nights, the guarding was entirely peaceful. It was only that the imperial meals were reduced, and the illness seemed to grow more severe. Taizong could not bear for the two generals to toil so hard either, and again summoned Shubao, Jingde, Du, Fang, and the various nobles into the palace, instructing them: “Although I have been at peace these past two days, it is still too burdensome for the two generals Qin and Hu to labor through the entire night. I wish to summon skilled painters to transmit the true likenesses of the two generals and paste them upon the doors, so as to spare them the labor. What say you?”
All the ministers immediately followed the decree. They selected two men skilled at portraiture, had the two lords Hu and Qin put on their armor as before, and painted them according to their likenesses, then pasted the portraits upon the doors. That night, nothing happened either.
After another two or three days, they again heard bang, bang, bang from the Rear Palace Gate, with bricks and tiles clattering chaotically. At dawn, he summoned all the ministers and said: “Fortunately, the front gate has been without incident these past several days. Now the rear gate is making noises at night—will it not frighten me to death as well?”
Maogong stepped forward and奏道: “The front gate was insecure, so Jingde and Shubao guarded it; as for the rear gate being insecure, it should be guarded by Wei Zheng.”
Taizong approved the奏, and again summoned Wei Zheng to guard the rear gate that night. Zheng received the decree, dressed himself neatly that night, took up the precious sword that slew dragons, and stood waiting before the Rear Palace Gate—truly a fine hero. How was he dressed?
A blue silk headcloth of fine silk bound his brow,
A brocade robe and jade belt hung at his waist.
His wind-defying cloak and sleeves fluttered with frost-white hues,
His divine aspect surpassed Shentu and Yulei.
His feet wore black boots, seated in a bent posture,
In his hand he held a sharp blade, fierce and bold.
His round eyes wide, he glanced in every direction—
What evil spirit would dare approach?
The whole night passed brightly, and there were no ghosts or demons. Though there was no incident at either the front or rear gate, his body simply grew ever heavier.
One day, the Queen Mother again issued a decree, summoning all the ministers to discuss the funeral and burial arrangements. Taizong again summoned Xu Maogong, instructed him regarding the great affairs of the state, and enjoined him in the spirit of Liu, the Lord of Shu, entrusting his heir. When he had finished speaking, he bathed and changed clothes, waiting only for the appointed time.
Suddenly Wei Zheng stepped forth, seized the dragon robe, and奏道: “Your Majesty, set your heart at ease. I have one matter that can guarantee Your Majesty long life.”
Taizong said: “The illness has already entered the vital organs, and my life is about to end. How can you guarantee that?”
Zheng said: “I have a letter, which I shall present to Your Majesty. Take it to the underworld and deliver it to Cui Jue, the Judge of Fengdu.”
Taizong said: “Who is Cui Jue?”
Zheng said: “Cui Jue was a minister before the former Imperial Majesty. He first received appointment as the magistrate of Cizhou, and later was promoted to Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites. While alive, he and I became sworn brothers through eight obeisances, and our acquaintance was exceedingly deep. He has now died and currently serves in the underworld as the Judge of Fengdu, who holds the registers of life and death. In dreams, he often meets with me. If, upon going there, Your Majesty delivers this letter to him, remembering his slight bond with me, he will certainly release Your Majesty to return. I guarantee that Your Majesty’s soul will return to the world of the living, and Your Majesty’s dragon countenance will surely be brought back to the imperial capital.”
Upon hearing this, Taizong took the letter in his hand, tucked it into his sleeve, and then closed his eyes and died. The Three Palaces and Six Courts, the empress, consorts, palace women, attendants, the Crown Prince, and all the civil and military officials of both ranks raised cries of mourning and donned mourning garments. Then, in the White Tiger Hall, the imperial coffin was placed there; this need not be discussed further.
In the end, how Taizong returned to life is not yet known; let us listen to the explanation in the next installment.
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Ninth Chapter: Chen Guangrui Takes Office and Meets Disaster; Jiangliu the Monk Takes Revenge and Repays the Root
Journey to the West / Chapter 010