by Guo Xiaoting
Chang Miaoyu stepped aside and pointed with his hand while reciting a spell followed by a command. The man at once turned himself around and fell to the ground. The Daoist went to him and was about to kill him with his treasured sword.
Then from inside the room he heard his acolyte’s voice. “Teacher, you must not kill him! He is my friend.” Running out into the courtyard, the acolyte helped the young man up.
Now this young man who had just arrived was originally from the Tanyang prefecture of Zhejiang. His surname was Chen and his personal name was Liang. His home was in what was called the Chen family village, which was also a small military post. His parents had both died when he was very young and until he grew into manhood he had lived with his father’s younger brother and his wife. Chen Liang also had a sister named Jade Plum. His father’s brother, Chen Guangqin, kept a shop that sold white cloth.
Chen Liang loved to practice fighting with his fists, with his feet, and with the quarterstaff. He constantly practiced with other men about the military post, learning new strategies in the art of fighting. Later he became acquainted with a local man named Lei Ming, nicknamed “The Dark Wind-Driven Cloud.” The two became as close as flesh and bone.
It was Lei Ming who led Chen Liang into the company of the men of the Greenwood. In Yushan prefecture in Jiangsu province, there was a guarantor named Yang Ming, nicknamed the Fierce Commander of the Marauding Spirits. These spirits were a band of chivalrous men who loved to remedy the inequities that they encountered. They would kill avaricious men and tyrants and gladly made friends with every heroic fellow who shared their sentiments. After Chen Liang had entered the company of the men of the Greenwood, he went to stay with these brave men, who were called the thirty-six bold fellows of Yushan prefecture. Among them were all sorts of men.
One day, everyone came with gifts to congratulate the mother of their leader, Yang Ming, on her birthday. But when Chen Liang arrived, he brought nothing. Lei Ming said to him: “Dear brother, you should have brought something as a gift to show your respect for filial piety. Furthermore, in the eyes of the others, it will look well if you honor the mother of our senior member.”
Chen Liang said, “I have a present different from any of the others, and I will bring it in a short time.”
It was then the beginning of the fourth month. At the third watch that night, Chen Liang stole a dish of large fresh peaches and brought the fruit as his gift. Everyone said that, since fresh peaches were usually not yet ripe, it was very strange for him to be able to find ten such peaches. Truly it could not have been easy. After this incident, he was nicknamed “The White Monkey with the Supernatural Hands.”
That same year, Chen Liang went home to inquire about his uncle’s health. When he arrived, his sister, Jade Plum, joined with his uncle in saying, “Chen Liang, you cannot belong to the Greenwood and still come to the Chen household. Although it is said that there were no officials among our ancestors, there were those who knew poetry and propriety. In joining this barbarous Greenwood association and becoming an outlaw, you not only bring dishonor upon your ancestors and relatives, but upon your neighbors as well. As long as there are officials, you cannot evade the law! One day as a robber could bring your life to an end. Parents who are robbers bring forth children who also are robbers. We urge you to look back and begin your life anew. Besides, the family business needs your help.”
Chen Liang said not a word, but enough had been said already. The next day he did not take his leave from the family, although he still wished to go away from home. He realized that there was something else he could do. He thought to himself, “This time when I leave, it will be to go to the capital. There, I will seek out some famous Buddhist or Daoist with the intention of leaving the world and learning to be a monk. Thus I will put an end to all my past sins. There are no parents to hold me back and no wife to hinder me.”
By evening he had reached the Yunlan market town. After dark, he changed into his black thief’s suit of darkness. He entered a home with a large gate and took a quantity of silver in order to have something to spend during the rest of his journey. It was then getting late and he decided to visit his friend, the acolyte, Liu Miaotong, at the Fortunate Cloud Shrine.
When he came to the front of the shrine, he did not knock at the gate. Instead he climbed up and crossed over the roofs to look around. In front of the main hall was a table. Before it stood the Daoist priest with his hair let down in disorder. His blackened face gave him an especially baleful air. He held the precious sword in his hand and was in the act of performing a ceremonial rite.
Chen Liang did not recognize him, and thought to himself, “This is definitely being done to harm my brother, Liu Miaotong. The Daoist is calling up a demon to do evil to him. Truly the Daoist is detestable. He will not escape death once my anger is unleashed.” With these thoughts in mind, Chen Liang leapt down with his knife poised. But before he could chop at the Daoist, the priest pointed and shook the sleeve of his robe at Chen Liang and caused him to fall to the ground.
Chen Liang was about to close his eyes and wait for death. Then he saw Liu Miaotong come out of the main hall and heard him say, “Teacher, this is my friend—blame me but do not kill him.”
The Daoist priest replied, “Well! So you are bringing in someone from outside and planning to kill me so that you will have this shrine to yourself.”
Chen Liang contradicted him saying, “No! I was very clumsy and stupid on this occasion. I did not know that you two were teacher and acolyte. I thought that you were going to kill Liu Miaotong so that you could get the shrine.” Chen Liang explained his mistake as Liu Miaotong introduced him to the priest.
After the two friends had gone inside the main hall, Chen Liang asked, “What is the master Daoist doing with his arts?”
Liu Maiotong said, “Dear brother, each day I waited for you early and late, thinking that you would come, but you did not come. Now you have come here today! The priest is going to kill senior monk Ji Gong of the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat. Furthermore, the priest has taken three parts of another person’s soul and seven parts of his senses. I have heard it said that Ji Gong is a virtuous person, but I fear that he will not be able to prevent the Daoist from taking his soul.”
When Chen Liang heard what Liu Miaotong had to say, he thought to himself, “I was just trying to meet some famous Daoists or Buddhists with the idea of leaving the world myself. I did not expect to encounter anything like that which I have seen and heard about tonight. Now I will watch and see whose powers are stronger.”
Just as these thoughts were going through Chen Liang’s mind, the two friends heard the Daoist outside beginning to cast another spell as he said, “The soul of the mad monk Ji has not yet arrived. What is it waiting for?” He then began once more to take the papers with the spells and burn them. The flames flared higher as he threw in the strips of papers.
Then the two friends saw a furious wind arise from the northwest. It was a wind that killed trees in the forest. The river and the trees resounded and mountainous waves arose on the sea. It seemed as though the heavens were filled with ten thousand angry demons throwing rocks that went flying into the air, endangering the lives of men.
When the wind had passed, there was the sound of straw sandals slowly padding along, “Left, right, left, right.” The sound did not last long, and then they saw standing before the table a poor, ragged monk.
CHAPTER 26
The duel between the Spirit Master and the Chan master continues; the powers of the Chan master are observed by Chen Liang
CHANG Miaoyu became furious when he saw that, instead of Ji Gong’s soul materializing, Ji Gong himself had appeared in the flesh. “Wrong-headed, obstinate monk,” he shouted, “I summoned your soul! What are you doing here?”
Now, when the Daoist had left the Liang home, Liang Yuanwai was unable to catch up with him. Liang Yuanwai simply thought that Ji Gong was dead, but when the yuanwai returned to the library, he saw Ji G
ong sitting in a chair drinking wine. Liang Yuanwai was overjoyed at the sight and cried out, “Saintly monk! Oh, dear sir, you have not died after all! The old Daoist said that he had drawn the soul out of your body.”
“Do you think that he could ever draw out my soul!” Ji Gong exclaimed. “One thing is certain, however—he has surely drawn the soul out of your son’s body. Tonight I will go to find that Daoist.”
The old yuanwai said, “Oh no! There is no need for that. Any person who has left the world and still commits such wickedness sooner or later will suffer the vengeance of heaven. The saintly monk need not go to find him. As I see it, we should merely let him go away.”
Ji Gong did not answer, but continued to drink his wine. When it was evening, he said, “I will go outside for a bit and perform a charitable act. A little later I will return.”
The old yuanwai believed him, but when Ji Gong left the Liang mansion, he hurried straight toward Five Spirits Hill. Arriving at the Shrine of the Fortunate Cloud, he saw the Daoist just beginning to work his arts. When Chen Liang appeared, Ji Gong perceived everything quite clearly. He saw the Daoist once more write the charms and begin his incantations. This time, Ji Gong came with the wind to the front of the table. From the way that the Daoist spoke, it was evident that he had been taken by surprise. He had cast his hook to catch the soul and had brought in the person instead! Ji Gong had most certainly awakened from the Daoist’s spell.
The Daoist realized as a result of what had happened that Ji Gong’s skills were formidable, but the Daoist’s deep anger gave him confidence. Thrusting with his precious sword at Ji Gong, the Daoist said, “Crazy monk! If I take money from Liang Wanzang, what is that to you? You are spoiling my great venture for no reason. You are indeed a heavy burden to me! You must know that, though you succeeded in coming here today, there is danger in coming before my sacrificial table. You had better kowtow to me and call me your ancestor three times over. Hermits of your sort have one special power. They cannot be killed by supernatural fire. If this were not so, I would already have cut off your existence.”
Ji Gong retorted, “You demonic Daoist! You are here calling up ghosts to do wickedness. There is no reason for you to do evil things to Liang Wanzang and you dare to treat me with disrespect. The more I speak of it, the angrier I become!” Without a word of warning, he slapped the Daoist on the cheek. The Daoist’s face grew red with anger. He seemed about to explode with fury. He aimed his sword at Ji Gong’s head.
There before the great hall the two used all their arts. The Daoist was unable to touch Ji Gong with his deadly thrusts. The monk moved with him, twisting and turning in every direction. The mouth of the frustrated Daoist opened and closed as he alternately ground his teeth and screeched out obscene curses. He dodged to one side and pulled out the first of his treasured objects from his bag. After reciting a spell and a command, he threw the treasure at Ji Gong. A white, nearly transparent object shot through the air.
The lohan perceived this strange white thing that seemed to be half suspended, half pushing its way through the air and making a rushing sound as it moved. Ji Gong recognized the object as the stone called the whirling pearl of delusion, which could be as small as a hen’s egg or grow to be several yards in diameter. Although when small it could be carried in a bag, it could also bring about broken heads and flowing blood. Ji Gong, the Chan master, simply pointed with his hand and recited the six true words, “Om Ma Ni Pad Me Hum.” The stone wavered, grew smaller, and came to rest in Ji Gong’s pocket.
The Daoist, upon seeing that Ji Gong had destroyed the power of this treasure of delusion, was so angry that the three spirits of his body in his head, belly, and feet were all wildly moving about. The seven apertures of his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth were fairly smoking. Again, he reached into his bag and took out something. The Daoist stood with his back toward the exact north. Shaking his sword to and fro, he recited a spell while holding the thing in his hand. From the spell came a strange wind that pulled at the hair and struck terror into the bones. Ji Gong opened his eyes wide and saw a striped Mongolian tiger shaking its head and lashing its tail.
The tiger rushed straight at Ji Gong. As the lohan looked at it, the tiger did seem quite fearsome. Its large head, round ears, and slender tail would have been the despair of an artist. The cowherd would have lost his courage at the sight. The soul of the lonely woodcutter would have melted in terror at the sound of its roar. Even the bravest of men would have trembled at seeing its stripes.
Ji Gong merely laughed loudly as he saw it. “You, son of a concubine, born into this world as punishment for your parents’ misdeeds,” he said to the Daoist, “you use these kinds of tricks to show off your skills to me. Really? You would try to sell water at the riverbank!” As the monk spoke, he pointed, and the tiger quickly changed and became visible in its original form, a paper tiger.
The Daoist, upon seeing that two of his favorite charms had been brought to naught, felt his anger reach its very limits. He said, “Good monk, you are a very brave man indeed, but I want you to know that a hermit such as I can still be very dangerous.” He put his hand down into his bag and drew out a magic cord. He held it in his hand, saying, “A man may have no desire to harm a tiger, but the tiger may have every intention of harming the man. Originally I had no desire to harm you. The present situation is something you brought upon yourself. You have asked for death many times over, but now you may stop complaining about being alive, for today I will kill you. This cord is stronger than anything else, more powerful than any uncanny supernatural thing in reducing things to their original elements.”
With its ends joined, the cord would enclose a portion of the primor-dial Yin, a region of cold, darkness, dampness, and utter silence that contrasted with the warm, life-giving qualities of Yang. The monk looked at it and said, “Very bad,” several times. He heard the Daoist recite a spell and saw him throw the cord down. It coiled into a circle and gave off a golden light as it moved rapidly toward the monk. The monk cried over and over again: “Ai yah! Save me! This is terrible!” The brilliant circle passed around the monk three times as he continued his cries.
Chang Miaoyu laughed a great laugh, saying, “Originally I thought that you had some great supernatural powers, monk. Now it is clear that all the time you were one of those who know nothing at all. Now you await the moment when I terminate your existence.” As the Daoist said these words, he raised his sword, intending to cut the monk’s head into two pieces. He had raised the sword as confidently as an official might raise a seal to affix its mark.
Then the Daoist saw the monk looking at him intently. The Daoist could not utter a sound, nor could he bring down his sword. He thought to himself, “Strange! Why is it that my treasured sword will not chop the monk?” He brandished it in the air back and forth several times, but he still could not bring it down.
It seemed to the Daoist that he had been awakened by the sound of a crash. He felt a movement of his heart. “Perhaps this is all an illusion.” As he thought, he looked around carefully. The terrible cord enclosing the cold essence of Yin had settled upon the rim of his hot stone incense burner and blended into it. He looked for the monk, but there was no sign of him.
Just as the Daoist was peering about everywhere, the monk, who was behind him, gave him a slap. The Daoist turned his head. Driven on by his fury, he shouted out, “Stupid monk, you are causing me to die from my anger. Tonight there are no two ways open for me as far as you are concerned—one of us must die.” Thrusting out his hand, the Daoist took some of the burning incense sticks from the incense burner and carried them to the front of the great hall, where there was a pile of grass faggots. He mouthed one of his spells and lighted one of the bundles. With the flaming grass in his outstretched hand, he rushed at Ji Gong. After the failure of his three strong charms, the Daoist had ceased to rely upon the use of his poisonous supernatural arts alone. He was about to burn the monk to death with fire.
As the Daoist resumed h
is spells, the fire reached out toward Ji Gong. He pointed at it and, as he said, “Om Ma Ni Pad Me Hum. I command!” the fire rushed back at the Daoist. His beard caught fire, then his long hair and his clothing. He turned and ran inside the great hall of the shrine. There, the fire from his burning hair and clothing ignited the hangings, and in an instant the place had become an inferno. As the raging fire burned out of control, the flesh and bones of the Daoist were turned into ashes, along with all the things in the great hall of the Shrine of the Fortunate Cloud.
The monk paid no attention to all this. He at once picked up the straw man that the Daoist had used to represent Liang Shiyuan and pulled out the seven needles that had held the boy’s soul inside. Not stopping to think whether the Daoist’s apprentice, Liu Miaotong, was alive or dead, the monk departed from Five Spirits Hill.
During this time, Chen Liang had been watching everything intently from within a side building. This was on the east side of the shrine courtyard, where he had gone to get a closer look at what was happening. He had left Liu Miaotong in the great hall. As Chen Liang saw that the fire was spreading to this side building as well, he kicked out the lattice window, jumped through the opening, and fled close behind Ji Gong. Matching his own pace to that of the monk, Chen Liang followed the monk into Yunlan market town. He saw the monk hurry up to the gate of the mansion belonging to Liang Yuanwai.
One of the household people was standing in the gateway. Seeing the monk return, the man said, “Saintly monk, where have you been? Our yuanwai has been waiting for you most impatiently.”
The monk said, “Good,” and hurried inside.
When Ji Gong reached the library, Liang Yuanwai immediately asked, “Holy monk, where have you been, dear sir?”
The monk replied, “I have found your child’s soul for you, and now I have brought it back.” Ji Gong then went on to Liang Shiyuan’s room. There he saw the unconscious boy still lying motionless. Ji Gong at once prepared some medicine and gave it to him. In a short time Liang Shiyuan was able to move again.
