by Guo Xiaoting
As for the young Dao Ji, he passed through his three years of training, ignoring the taunts. He received his certificate and became a full-fledged monk. Even then, however, he was not accepted by the other monks, and his isolation from them grew.
Here and there about the monastery Dao Ji observed that individuals had little hoards of money that they had kept from the offerings of the visiting faithful. This all too common practice of subtracting a percentage of everything that fell into one’s hands was called a “squeeze.” The monks used their squeeze for new robes or sandals, or for some extra food beyond the day’s single meal.
Every few days Dao Ji would take the money from one or two of the little hoards and disappear from the monastery. He would spend the money in restaurants dining on dishes made with meat and fish and drinking wine, all of which he particularly loved. When people used to say to him that monks should eat only vegetarian meals, he responded with half-concealed mockery, saying, “The founder of Buddhism left us a verse which goes, ‘Some improve their hearts but neglect their mouths; others help their mouths but neglect their hearts.’ If I only improve my heart but neglect my mouth, then I would be failing to maintain my body and so be ungrateful to Guang Liang, the superintendent of the monks, who is like my father and mother who gave me this body.”
After a day or two in the city, he would return and, except for attending the noon meal, he would usually spend his time studying alone in the upper part of the Great Memorial Pagoda.
Shortly before this period, the superintendent of monks was transferred to another temple. The monks chose one of their group, Guang Liang, to be the new superintendent. He ranked next to the abbot in authority. Guang Liang was just a little bit fat from the tidbits he snatched between meals, and his smooth, moon-shaped face had a look of calm and benign authority. However, Dao Ji knew that the new superintendent was a man without learning and that there was certainly nothing holy about him. Dao Ji could see nothing in him except an ambitious desire to control the great Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat.
The old abbot who had been Dao Ji’s teacher was a wise and saintly man. The thought that Guang Liang would one day take the place of the abbot was intolerable to Dao Ji. When the costly silk patchwork robe was placed on display before being presented to Guang Liang by the monks, Dao Ji waited for his chance. When no one was watching, he stole the robe and pawned it. That night he feasted in the city. In the morning he returned and pasted the pawn ticket high on the monastery gate.
When Superintendent Guang Liang saw that the robe was gone, he sent the monks looking for it everywhere. The monks were not permitted to paste announcements or anything else on the monastery gate, so when some of them saw the piece of paper pasted high on the gate, they removed it. When they saw what it was, they took it to redeem the robe. Guang Liang meanwhile went to the master of the temple, the abbot, and complained: “The crazy monk in this temple is not peaceful and virtuous according to our rules. He constantly steals all the monk’s clothing, money, and other things. These actions call for severe measures! We must control him now and punish him for his offenses!”
The master of the temple, Yuan Kong, countered: “Dao Ji has no stolen goods in his possession; he cannot be punished. What you should do is carry out a secret investigation and, if there is evidence of theft, bring him to me.”
Superintendent Guang Liang dispatched two acolytes to keep Ji Gong under secret observation. Ji Gong was sleeping in the Hall of Great Treasures with his head on the altar table. The two little monks, Zhi Ching and Zhi Ming, exercising great caution, watched him each day. One day they saw him come out stealthily from the great hall and go around looking everywhere for some time. Afterward he looked in at the hall, went back inside, and came out again, walking furtively. He was holding close to his chest an old mat wrapped around something. Just as he was walking along the center of an old alley between some buildings in the temple grounds, he saw Zhi Ching and Zhi Ming, who said, “Good Ji Dian, what did you steal now? You can stop thinking about getting away.” Going over and thrusting out their arms, they caught Ji Gong and went at once to the rooms of the master of the temple.
The superintendent of the monks first said to the abbot, “The temple master knows that here in an eminent temple Ji Dian has failed to obey the regulations. Since he has stolen temple property, he must be punished according to our laws.”
When the master of the temple, Yuan Kong, heard this, he thought to himself: “Dao Ji, if you have stolen temple property, I cannot ask them to accept this. Even though I would like to give you sanctuary, there is nothing I can say.” Then he said to the others, “Just have the people bring him forward.”
When Ji Gong came into the front room of the master of the temple he said, “Oh, there you are, Elder Monk. I have been meditating.” Whenever he saw the senior monk, Ji Gong spoke in this manner. Yuan Kong for his part did not require him to kneel and touch his forehead to the ground in the traditional kowtow.
The abbot said to him, “Dao Ji, you have not been keeping the temple rules. You have stolen temple property. How shall you be punished?”
“Destroy his garments, his rice bowl, and the certificate of his Buddhist vow! Send him out of the temple! Do not authorize him to be a monk!” exclaimed the superintendent of the monks.
The old master of the temple said to himself, “I will simply censure him severely.” He then said to Ji Gong, “Dao Ji, take out the things that you have stolen and show them to us.”
“Teacher, they are truly taking advantage of me. I have been sleeping in the Hall of the Great Treasures. While I was sweeping the floor, I noticed that there was no trash container, so I was carrying everything out in my arms. Wait and I’ll show you.” Having said this, Ji Gong loosened the flat silken cords that tied the matting, and with a thunderous noise the dirt and dust from inside fell to the floor.
The master of the temple, in an extremely angry voice, said, “Superintendent Guang Liang, you have maliciously accused a good person of stealing. This merits severe censure. Beat the sounding board and call the monks together. Instruct them that the entire temple must be thoroughly swept.”
The monks all assembled hurriedly, each one paying no attention to anyone else and each making a great deal of noise. In the confusion, Ji Gong walked out of the temple unnoticed. He went out through the monastery gate, down the mountainside, and into the forest near the West Lake.
CHAPTER 2
Dong Shihong sells a daughter to bury a relative; the living lohan rescues a virtuous man
Where does the Spirit dwell?
From home you need not part.
The way’s not deep or far.
A spring’s beneath your heart.
There’s help for those who seek;
Don’t be ashamed to ask
Nor fear that you may not
Be equal to the task.
AS Ji Gong walked into the forest beside the West Lake, he suddenly saw a man preparing to hang himself. The monk understood at once a great deal about the man, having made a quick estimate of the man’s natural inclination to goodness.
The man was surnamed Dong, with the personal name of Shihong, and his native place was Qiantang prefecture in the province of Zhejiang. His unusual filial piety was shown in his treatment of his mother, who was named Qin Shi, because she came from the Qin family. He had lost his father early in life. Dong Shihong’s wife, Du Shi, had died young, leaving a daughter named Yujie, who was very intelligent and bright.
Dong Shihong was an artisan who beat gold into sheets of gold leaf. When his daughter was eight years old, his mother, Qin Shi, became bedridden with a severe illness. Though he took care of her, the family was poor, and he was unable to manage its affairs. Therefore he pawned his daughter, Yujie, to go as a serving maid in the home of scholar Gu in exchange for fifty ounces of silver. He used the money to take care of the old lady.
When his mother did not see Yujie, she asked, “Where is my granddaughter?”
He then went to the town of Jiangfu and there worked continuously, carrying the heaviest load of work possible. With great difficulty he accumulated the sixty ounces of fine silver ingots needed to repay the original amount he had borrowed, plus interest. At last, he thought, he could redeem his daughter and take her back to the family home.
Along the road he talked to no one. When he reached Linan, he stayed overnight at the Yuelai Inn outside the Qiantang gate. He had his silver with him. The next day he walked on to Baijiajuan and began asking about senior graduate Gu. The neighbors all said that old master Gu had been promoted to the foreign office, and they did not know where he was performing his official duties. When Dong Shihong heard this, it was as if he had been standing at the top of an immensely tall pagoda and had lost his footing.
At the bank of the Qiantang River, he asked all the workers who pulled the old decaying barges up and down the river whether they remembered moving the household furniture of official Gu. No one knew which way the eminent master Gu had gone, nor did they know what had become of Dong Shihong’s daughter.
When Dong Shihong came to the outside of the Qiantang gate, he had a few drinks in his sorrow at the India Street Inn. Hardly knowing it, he became drunk and entered the land of dreams. Waking, he left the inn, and shortly after stopped to look around. Without realizing it, he had taken the wrong road and was lost himself. He had also lost the silver ingots. Somehow, just as he had awakened, he had touched his clothing and the silver had fallen out. The shock of this discovery was overwhelming, and he was unable to endure the realization.
As he walked toward the forest, the more he thought, the more life lost its flavor. He thought he would never be able to see his daughter’s face again. Existence had become worse than death. He felt that he was suffering the consequence of a terrible sin. Thinking these thoughts as he walked into the forest, he unwound the long sash from around his waist and made it into a noose, intending to hang himself.
Suddenly he saw coming toward him from the opposite direction a Buddhist monk who was saying to himself, “Dead, dead! Once dead and that’s the end. Death is better than living. I want to hang myself, so I have taken off my sash. Now I want to tie it up in the tree.”
Dong Shihong was quite surprised to hear this. Raising his head, he saw that the monk presented a most unseemly appearance.
Head unshaven, face unwashed,
Drink-blurred, slanting, blinking eyes;
Whether stupid or acting so,
Or dangerously mad,
His tattered clothing full of holes,
His long sash tied into a noose,
And monks’ shoes worn to shreds,
With legs half bare and ankles red,
He’d waded streams and crossed the hills,
As if there were no obstacles
And all were level ground.
Here among China’s rivers and lakes,
Between the earth and the sky,
He wandered as he must.
He did not meditate chant.
By some admired, by some despised,
Drinking and eating fish and meat,
Carousing through the night or day,
He charmed his friends, dismayed his foes,
And many wrongs he put to right.
When Dong Shihong heard the monk say, “I want to hang myself. I just want to put the noose around my neck and hang,” Dong quickly went over to him. “Monk, why do you seek to shorten your life?” he asked.
Ji Gong replied, “My teacher spent three long years instructing me while living on the contributions of the worshippers. Putting aside a little day by day and month by month, it was very difficult to get together five ounces of silver. Finally I received my teacher’s orders. He sent me to buy two monks’ garments and two monks’ hats. I like to drink wine very, very much. In the wine shop, because I greedily drank two extra measures of wine, I got tipsy, then drunk, and then very drunk, and lost the five ounces of silver. I intended to go back to the temple to see my teacher, but then I was afraid that the old monk would be angry. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I kept thinking ‘What a life! A story without a title!’ Therefore I want to hang myself.”
When Dong Shihong heard this, he said, “Monk, you may be distressed about a few ounces of silver, but not to the point of dying. I still have five or six ounces in odd bits of silver in my bag. I am already a dead man, and there is no reason for me to keep them. Come, I will give you these five or six ounces and help you.” Thrusting out his hand, he gave a small purse to the monk.
The monk took it in his hand, laughed, “Ha! Ha!” and said, “This silver of yours, however, is not such a good kind as mine was. Besides, it’s all broken up into different-sized pieces.”
When Dong Shihong heard this, he was not very happy, and thought to himself, “I did a bit of pointless charity in giving you that silver, since you complain that it is no good.” Then he said to him, “Monk, go and use that to pay back the money.”
The monk assented and said, “I’m going.”
Dong Shihong thought to himself, “This monk absolutely does not understand the customs of the world concerning favors asked and done. I gave him this silver that he did not appreciate and that he said was not good. Then, when he was going, he didn’t even ask my name and didn’t know enough to thank me. Truly he is of an uncouth generation. Anyway, as for myself, I am about to die.”
Just as he was feeling resentful, he saw the monk coming back, and heard him say, “As soon as I saw the silver, I forgot everything else and didn’t even ask the kind gentleman’s honorable name and why he is here.”
Dong Shihong told him the entire story about losing the silver ingots. The monk said, “Ah, you also lost some silver. Since father and daughter cannot see each other, you hang yourself. Well I’m going.”
When Dong Shihong heard this, he said, “This monk really doesn’t understand proper courtesies. He doesn’t know how to talk to people.”
He saw the monk walk five or six steps and then come back saying, “Dong Shihong, are you really going to die, or are you pretending?”
Dong Shihong said, “What if I am really going to die?”
The monk said, “If you are really going to die, you can do me a genuine favor. The complete outfit of clothing you are wearing is worth five or six ounces of silver, and you are leaving it for the wolves to eat and the dogs to gnaw. What a useless waste! Take your clothes off and give them to me. You dropped into the world naked; go out the same way. Wouldn’t that be better?”
When Dong Shihong heard this speech, his entire body began to shake, and he said, “A good monk you are! You really understand friendship! As a casual friend, I gave you several ounces of silver. I have been burning paper to call up a devil!”
The monk clapped his hands, and laughing loudly said, “Very good! Very good! You must not get excited. I only asked you. You lost your money, so you were going to die. Fifty or sixty ounces of silver do not amount to anything. I will take you to find your daughter and cause you and your daughter to come back together. Flesh and bone reunited. How about it? Congratulations!”
Dong Shihong said, “Monk, I lost the money to redeem my daughter—if I don’t have the money, how is it possible that we can be reunited?”
The monk answered, “It’s all right. I have a way. You come with me.”
Dong Shihong asked, “Monk, where is your temple? Where can one find it, and what are your honorable names?”
Ji Gong replied, “I came to the West Lake hurriedly from the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat. My name is Dao Ji. People call me Ji Dian, the mad monk.”
Dong Shihong realized that the monk did not speak in an unrefined manner. Rewinding the sash around his waist, Dong Shihong ask
ed, “Where did you say you were going, Teacher?”
Ji Gong said, “Walk!” Turning, he led Dong Shihong straight ahead. The monk was singing a mountain song:
Walk, walk, walk and roam, roam, roam.
There is no better way than this to pass the spring and fall.
Now today I feel how good it is to be a monk.
Now I do regret those years I had to spend in toil.
Now I see that love is an illusion.
Now I feel that wives are all a snare.
What can equal crossing fields and rivers?
What can equal the gourd in my bare hands?
What can equal the sound of wind and rain?
What can equal the slowly fading day?
Happy now from morn to night and no one cares about me.
Never a vexation, never something sad.
Hemp sandals striding over field and stream,
Ragged monk’s robe and head as smooth as satin.
I can be gentle or I can be hard.
Outside my body there’s a world of new delights.
It doesn’t matter if the earth wants skulls and bones.
Caring not for heaven, stopping not for earth,
Happy as a powerful prince,
I can sing songs and make them up as well.
I can doze whenever I am tired,
Then when I wake, I can quickly go again
Back to the world’s affairs.
The monk went on with Dong Shihong through the Qiantang gate into Linan and stopped inside a small lane. There he spoke to Dong Shihong, saying, “You stand here inside this lane. Don’t wander off. In a little while, a person will ask you your birthday and your age. Just answer him. Today I am going to bring you two, father and daughter, face to face, flesh and bone back together.”
Dong Shihong agreed and said, “Saintly monk, you are most compassionate and kind.”
The monk turned his head and looked. On the north side of the road was a large gateway. Inside the gateway stood twenty or thirty of the household’s people. From the tablet hung above the gate, he knew that it was the home of a government official.
