by Guo Xiaoting
The courtyard that he entered was shut in on three sides by buildings. A dozen or more low-ranking officials were standing about in the courtyard, and the four honorable managers were just then drinking tea in the best building on the north side. When the low-ranking officials saw the poor monk with clothing so badly torn and ragged, they quickly stopped him saying, “Who is this?”
Ji Gong said, “It is I.”
The lower officials asked, “Who are you? The various great people are now here talking. What is a poor monk like you doing by coming here? To what temple do you belong?”
Ji Gong replied, “I belong to a nun’s convent.”
When the lower officials heard his reply, they admonished him, saying, “That is no kind of language to use. You are a monk. What are you doing in a nun’s convent? Men and women mixed together!”
Ji Gong said, “You do not understand. The old nun in the convent died, and the young nun has run off with somebody. I am staying at that temple as the caretaker. I have heard it said that all you honorable great people have come asking about large pieces of timber. In large temple where I come from we have accumulated a great pile of timber, a pile like a mountain, truly large and truly bulky, like these long beams that hold up the roof. If a man squats down at this end and another man squats down at the other end, the pile is so big that the man at this end cannot see the man at the other end.”
The low-ranking officers said, “What a big pile of timber that must be!”
The monk went on with another rush of words, repeating himself. “That big pile of beams in our temple, with a man squatting down at one end and the other man squatting down at the other end, and the man on this end unable to see the man at the other end!”
Again the low-ranking officers said in unison, “What a big pile of timber that must be!”
The monk rattled on, repeating, “The pillars and rafters under the roof in our temple are piled so high that the man squatting at this end cannot see the man squatting at that end, and the one at that end cannot see the man at this end.”
When the low-ranking officials heard this, they all laughed and asked, “What do you expect to do about these timbers, Monk? Do you want to sell them? Do you want to give them to our great man?”
The monk replied, “I do not want to sell anything to the great man. I would only like the great man to give me some money to fix my pants.”
Inside the large meditation hall, Qin An had heard all this conversation very clearly. Deciding that it was some kind of trickery, he had someone call the monk inside. One of the low ranking officials said, “Monk, our great man has called you. When you see our great man, be polite. None of your fox and monkey antics!”
The monk did not respond, but strode over to the hall, pushed aside the bamboo curtain, and entered. When the four men (Qin An, Qin Sheng, Qin Zhi, and Qin Ming) saw that it was this miserably poor monk, Qin An asked, “Monk, does your temple actually have some timbers?”
Ji Gong blinked his eyes and asked, “Where did you four honorable people come from?”
They answered, “We have been sent from Prime Minister Qin’s residence. The great man has given an order that the Great Memorial Pagoda be torn down and the materials used to repair the large, many-storied pavilion in the prime minister’s flower garden.”
Ji Gong said, “You four honorable people have been ordered to come and take down the Memorial Pagoda by the great person of your houses.”
The four men exclaimed, “How could there be a great person in our houses!”
Ji Gong said, “The fact that you have no idea about how to perform your duties can be blamed upon your never having had any great person in any of your houses. When you return, tell that great man of yours that I, the monk, have said the following. From start to finish, the matter of his drawing a salary depends upon the fact that, at the beginning, the three imperial boards arranged to have such an official. They expected that he would harmonize the yin and the yang, settle matters in the way that they ought to be settled, and be himself deserving of his own share of happiness. He has no reason to pull down the property of Buddha. You return and tell him that I, the old man, say that it is not permitted.”
Hearing these words of Ji Gong, how could these several honorable managers not be enraged by them and not become more reckless?
Qin An said, “All right! You ignorant monk! First of all I will beat you!” With his arms flailing, he came at Ji Gong and attempted to land a blow.
Ji Gong stepped to one side, saying, “If you want to fight, let us go outside.”
Qin An straightened up and walked outside after the monk. There, Qin An told his people, “Beat this monk for me!”
The low-ranking officials all came at him together, fists swinging, each trying to get in a blow at the monk’s face or legs. There were sounds of unceasing groans, in the midst of which they heard a voice say, “Do not strike! It is I!”
The low officials cried out, “Of course it is you that we are beating. You had no business to come running in among us, asking to get yourself killed. You really are too old to be putting dirt on your own head!”
While they were still beating him, they heard Qin Sheng, who had come out and was standing there beside them, say: “Stop beating him. I heard a sound that was not right. Let me look, before you beat him any more.”
Oh, it was dreadful! Suddenly Qin Sheng and the others realized that the monk was standing off to the east observing them. Naturally, he was laughing. Looking down, they saw the chief manager, Qin An, disheveled and bruised. The people gathered round him and said, “Manager, how did you happen to get beaten, sir?”
Qin An said, “You were all getting even with me for some private grudges you had. I told you to beat the monk, but you beat me. I said, ‘It is I!’ and you all said that it was I that you were beating. All right, all right, all right!”
The other two, Qin Zhi and Qin Ming, came out to look. They saw that Qin An’s injuries seemed rather serious, and Qin Sheng said, “This certainly is the result of some witchcraft of that monk. Every one of you beat him for me.”
When the low officials heard this, they all went toward the monk, their eyes glaring and their expressions most forbidding.
The monk said, “How nice! How nice! A quiet man may ride, but a quiet horse is ridden.” Then he said under his breath the six sacred words: “Om Ma Ni Pad Me Hum! I command!”
His words were frightening enough to make them all fall silent. Then they all became angry with each other. Chang Sheng looked at Li Lu and said, “Every time I look at you, my fury rises. I have long wanted to beat you, you subservient dog’s head.”
Li Lu said, “Good! Let us face off and see who stays up and who goes down!”
Over on the other side of the courtyard things were much the same. Jia and Yi were battling in one place; elsewhere, Tzu and Zhou were fighting to the death; eighteen people were beating each other in nine pairs.
Qin Sheng looked at the battered and bruised Qin An and said, “I am always angry when I look at you. You asked the people to beat you up. If you are angry at me, come over and I will give you a good one.” At once the two struck out at each other.
Ji Gong was standing watching one man and asked him, “Why are you hitting that man?”
The man looked and said, “Something is wrong. I am not the right adversary for him.”
Ji Gong said, “Let me help you with a suggestion. Hit him a few more times, then exchange him for someone else.”
The monk watched them go on fighting. One hit the other a slanting blow and then almost bit off his ear. The other, enraged, then bit off a piece of the first one’s nose. They were all fighting wildly with each other.
The superintendent of the monks came over, looked and said, “Dao Ji, you have created a great disturbance. You have put these honorable managers of Prime Minister Qin through more than beasts could bear. Is this right? Are you not ready to release them from your spell?”
Ji Gong replie
d, “Brother Teacher, if you had not asked me, I might have let this band of robbers kill each other, one by one. Today I will spare them.” Then he said, “Stop fighting, everyone!”
Naturally at this command they all came to their senses, each one blaming the other. One said, “Sheng, my brother in arms! You and I have had such a long friendship! Why did you beat me so cruelly?”
His friend Sheng replied, “How should I know? Look at my ear—you bit off a piece!”
The other retorted, “Don’t talk about it! Wasn’t that a piece of my nose that you just spat out?”
All of the others had recovered their wits, including Qin An, who seemed in no serious danger after all. “Which temple does that crazy monk come from?” Qin An asked the superintendent. “You had better not let him get away. In a little while, if that crazy monk is not available, I will ask you for someone in his place!”
The managers and their men mounted their horses and then left the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat. All along the road they whipped their steeds. The shaken men were unwilling to slow down until they had passed through the Qiantang gate and reached the prime minister’s estate. There they dismounted. Then they saw coming out of the mansion gate a fellow worker who looked at them and asked, “How did you come to return like this?”
Qin An told the whole story from beginning to end. Then the man advised him: “When you see the prime minister, do not tell him the exact details of what has happened; instead, let him take responsibility for finding this monk who brought you ill luck and seems to be the ring-leader of the temple.”
When Qin An came to the library, Prime Minister Qin was there reading. As soon as he lifted his head, he said, “You four men were sent to the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat to borrow some timbers. Why did you come back looking like this?”
Qin An replied, “We were just carrying out your orders, sir, and had reached the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat beyond the West Lake to borrow the timbers. All the monks in the temple were glad to lend the lumber, except one crazy monk. He not only would not lend it to us, but he beat and insulted us. I beg the prime minister to make a ruling concerning this matter.”
When Prime Minister Qin heard Qin An’s explanation, he said, “So! In addition to everything else, the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat has produced a crazy monk. How does he dare to beat the people of my household? It really is a pity!”
He then used his brush to write a warrant that was sent to the capital’s garrison, ordering that five hundred soldiers under the command of two senior officers be provided to maintain order in the area. These officers were to surround the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat and to bring back Ji Gong in irons.
CHAPTER 9
Soldiers surround the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat and bring back the mad monk in fetters; Ji Gong’s games with the village headmen end with a drunken entrance into the prime minister’s estate
Smoke in the distance slowly ascends
Through mists and driving rain,
A stillness by a knowing master hand.
The unwearied eye sweeps over
Hills and streams a thousand li.
Each day we thank the painter for his gift.
THE garrison commander complied as soon as he received the order to send five hundred soldiers to surround the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat and to arrest Ji Gong, and detailed two senior officials to command the men. In addition, officials of Linan prefecture detailed eight village headmen, and officials of other prefectures appointed another eight. All of them were dispatched as if they were on a military mission.
When they all arrived at the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat, the officers and soldiers surrounded the temple. The headmen then entered and asked the master of the temple where the crazy monk had gone. The old master of the temple said that he did not know. The headmen were as hard as steel. They immediately placed the master of the temple, senior monk Yuan Kong, in irons, saying: “Monk, your bravery is no little thing. You dared to have the great managers of Prime Minister Qin’s estate beaten!”
Then the attendant who served the master of the temple came and beseeched them to show mercy and not keep the old monk in irons. But the headmen simply put fetters on the attendant. The temple receptionist who kept the record of guests also pleaded with them, and he was treated in the same manner. Altogether, including the master of the temple and the superintendent of monks, seven monks were manacled and taken away to Prime Minister Qin’s estate.
When the headmen went to report, Prime Minister Qin immediately set up court in a summerhouse in the flower garden. Up to seventy people of his household stood outside in attendance. Those who had been sent on the mission came forward and gave their report, saying that they had brought back the master of the temple and other monks. They talked a bit more, and then the prime minister ordered that the monks appear before him. The headmen relayed the order to the soldiers, who brought the monks forward. The master of the temple was given a seat within the summerhouse, while the other monks were kept waiting outside on their knees.
Inside the summerhouse, the prime minister watched from behind a bamboo curtain, where he could see them clearly, but they could not see him. The prime minister asked, “Who among you several monks is the mad Buddhist priest? Speak your name!”
Each of the monks said his own name. The master of the temple said, “I am called Yuan Kong. I am the master of the temple.”
One said, “I am Guang Liang, the superintendent of monks.”
Another said, “I am the one who keeps the record of the guests.”
While another said, “I am the master’s attendant, Sung Duan.”
And still another, “I am the head caretaker of the mausoleum.”
As Prime Minister Qin heard these statements, he said, “Then the insane monk is not among you! I sent the people to bring in the mad monk because of his having beaten my managers.”
Guang Liang said, “I beg to inform the Great One. Ji Dian, the crazy monk of our temple, was originally a disciple of our temple master, Yuan Kong. When the honorable managers came, Ji Dian used his magical arts to cause the great managers to be beaten. We had no way of preventing what happened. I beg the Great One to be compassionate toward us and find us innocent.”
When Prime Minister Qin heard this statement, he ordered some of the estate people to go with the prefectural headmen to capture the mad monk. Later, when a few of the Qiantang headmen were searching inside the temple, they came to the place where the Great Memorial Pagoda was to be torn down. There, they saw the mad monk pointing and directing the workmen as he viewed the destruction that had occurred at the Great Memorial Pagoda.
Now, when these tile workers, carpenters, and laborers had heard that there had been an official order from Prime Minister Qin to demolish the Great Memorial Pagoda and to repair the prime minister’s great multi-storied pavilion, who among them would dare to disobey? Among them, however, were some good people who thought: “It is not an easy matter to build a temple. Who knows how much work is needed and how many contributions are required for the construction of such a high edifice? It would be a great misdeed to tear this down in one day, and I do not want to do such a thing. If I used my iron tools and broke one of the better tiles, that would amount to two hundred cash. I will not do it!”
Just then Ji Gong, who was off at one side, pointed with his hand, and the workmen simply dropped to the ground from wherever they were on the arch. Even though some of them were seven or eight yards above the ground, they all landed safely on their feet. As they fell, they thought to themselves, “How fortunate that we had not begun to destroy the arch! We might have fallen to our deaths. It was very dangerous!” They stood looking at one another and saying, “This will be something to talk about for some time to come!”
However, there were others who were actually starting to demolish the structure. They were those who had thought from the first, “To demolish this one and reconstruct the other will be two mon
ths’ work. Then the temple will require workmen to build another memorial pagoda, and that will be another couple of months’ work. That will be almost half a year’s work altogether.” Just as they began the demolition, Ji Gong pointed at them. They fell to the ground with their legs drawn up on some three-cornered rocks and were injured. Those rascals crawled home on all fours and lost half a year’s work while they recovered.
Ji Gong was just beginning to direct the first group of tile workers, carpenters, and laborers in the work of repair when the prime minister’s headmen appeared with thunderous shouts, brandishing their weapons of tempered steel. “All right, you monk, there,” said one, “you have caused all this turmoil and you are still here busily pointing and directing things.” They then put Ji Gong in irons.
The monk raised his head and looked about at the eight headmen: Big Zhou, Wang the second, Jang the third, Li the fourth, Sun the fifth, Liu the sixth, Keng the seventh, and Ma the eighth. They all pulled at him. So Ji Gong asked, “How great a disaster did I cause?”
Headman Zhou replied, “That is difficult to tell, and why should I? When you arrive at the prime minister’s residence, you will know and be happy.”
The monk said, “If you ask me to go like that, I will not go.”
Headman Zhou said, “Are you still trying to waste our time?”
The monk simply sat down on the ground. Under his breath he said, “Amitabha, Om Ma Ni Pad Me Hum.”
Headman Zhou took his sword and tried to strike the monk, but was unable to do so. He called Wang the second to come to his aid. Wang the second pulled at Ji Gong with all his might, but could not move him. Wang the second said, “All the rest of you come here and help—don’t just stand there watching!”
They all tried. Chang the third, Li the fourth, Sun the fifth, Liu the sixth, Keng the seventh, and Ma the eighth all came and tried with all their might to make him move. But the monk was like a mountain of stone.
