Читать книгу Adventures of the Mad Monk Ji Gong - Guo Xiaoting - Страница 11

CHAPTER 3

The arts of Chan cure illness in the Zhao home; Buddha’s laws operate in secret to end sorrows

AFTER Ji Gong had restored the mother of Zhao Wenhui to health, there was still the six-year-old son to attend to. Ji Gong said, “I can cure him, but there is a supplementary element which is difficult to find. This is needed to introduce the other medicine. There must be a fifty-two-year-old man who must also have been born on the fifth day of the fifth month, and a nineteen-year-old girl born on the fifth day of the eighth month. The tears of these two people can be combined into a medicine. Then I can make the cure complete.”

Su Beishan and Li Huaiqun could see that the monk truly had a remarkable lineage. They asked the monk where he lived and what honorable names he was called. He answered each of their questions.

Zhao Wenhui went outside and sent people to search for a fifty-two-year-old man had been born on the fifth day of the fifth month.

At first they asked among those in the household itself and in the homes of relatives and friends nearby. They found no one. If the age was right, the birthday was wrong. If the month and day were right, the year was wrong. The crowd kept searching until they reached the gate. There they saw a man standing outside whose years seemed to be about half a hundred. One of the family, Zhao Liansheng, quickly went over to him and raising his clasped hands in greeting asked, “May I ask Brother’s name?”

He replied, “My surname is Dong, and my personal name is Shihong. My family came from Qiantang. I am waiting here for a man.”

The family member asked, “Is the elder brother fifty-two years old?” The answer was “You are not wrong.” Again the family member questioned him. “Were you born on the fifth day of the fifth month?” Again the answer was “You are not wrong.” The family member, quickly taking him by the hand, said, “Master Dong, you come with me. The head of our household has invited you to come in.”

Dong Shihong asked, “How does your honorable household head know me? Tell me and I will go with you.”

The family member then explained in detail the reason for the search and the need for the supplementary medicine. Dong Shihong then went in with him. There he saw Ji Gong, Zhao Wenhui, and the others. The family member introduced him to everyone.

Ji Gong said, “Now, quickly find the nineteen-year-old girl who was born on the fifth day of the eighth month.”

As soon as Dong Shihong heard the age and birthdate, which were the same as those of his daughter, his heart moved swiftly. Just then he saw one of the household people come in who said, “Auntie Gu found that the slave girl, Spring Maid, is nineteen and was born on the fifth day of the eighth month, and has called her.”

Then Dong Shihong saw a girl come in from outside. As soon as he saw that it was his own daughter, his heart was filled with anguish, and his tears began to fall. When the girl saw that it was her father, she also started crying.

The master of the household where she originally had been was named Gu. At that time he had only recently returned from the diplomatic corps. When Scholar Gu had been given a new post, Auntie Gu and Spring Maid had become part of the Zhao household. Father and daughter were each weeping bitterly as they saw the other’s face.

The monk laughed, “Ha! Ha!” and exclaimed, “Excellent! Excellent! Today I have made three for one, and how delightful the three are!” Putting out his hand, he received the medicinal tears. Holding them in his palm, he called for a household person to dissolve the medicine in water. Ji Gong then had them wash young Master Zhao with the mixture. In a little while, the boy’s facial expression became normal, his delirium was gone, and his illness was completely cured.

The monk told Zhao Wenhui the entire story of how Dong Shihong had lost the money and had been about to hang himself and how he, Ji Gong, had saved him and brought father and daughter together.

Zhao Wenhui rewarded Dong Shihong by giving him one hundred ounces of silver and allowing him take his daughter away with him. Afterward, Zhao Wenhui would buy another serving maid for his father’s sister.

When Li Huaiqun questioned the monk, he learned for the first time that Ji Gong was a senior monk of the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat. Su Beishan went over and greeting the monk ceremoniously, inquiring, “May I ask as a great kindness that you cure my own mother’s illness?”

The monk stood up and replied, “I will go to your home now.”

Su Beishan said, “Very good!”

Zhao Wenhui could not very well detain Ji Gong. Bringing a hundred ounces of white silver, he offered it to the monk to buy some more clothes. The monk said, “If you wish to thank me, come closer,” and then he whispered something into Zhao Wenhui’s ear.

Zhao Wenhui said, “Teacher, please rest assured that on that day I will be there.” Then he asked Su Beishan whether he had asked anyone to treat the illness of his mother.

Su Beishan replied, “Actually I have invited a great many gentlemen, but all have turned out to be useless. Recently one who is truly a living saint of the medical profession, Tang Wanfang, treated her, but I have seen no improvement in her condition. I also asked Dr. Li to treat her, but he, too, was not effective. They all say that older people cannot be helped when the vitality and blood are deficient. I also with all my heart rely on the will of heaven. Today I was able to meet this saintly monk who was fated to help this old lady to recover from an illness that has been truly hard to bear.”

At Su Beishan’s home, which was known as the “Green Bamboo Studio,” they entered and went into the western courtyard. There they came to the door of a spacious house of five sections on the north side. When they were seated inside, they could see the old lady, Su Beishan’s mother, lying on a bed.

There were several old women and slave girls standing in attendance who found the monk’s torn and ragged clothing quite ridiculous. Their laughter was more than Ji Gong could tolerate. “You should stop laughing at this clothing of mine and listen to what I say. Those who laugh at the monk’s torn clothes have neither eyes nor face.” (Meaning they lack both perception and self-respect.)

The household people offered tea. Ji Gong took out a piece of medicine and held it in his hand. As soon as Su Beishan perceived its black color, resembling betel nut, and its strange repellent odor, he reached out for it. Taking the unfamiliar pill in his hand, he asked, “What is the name of this medicine?”

Ji Gong answered, “This is a subtle medicine that I possess as a monk. It is called the pill of fate. If a person is about to die and takes this medicine of mine, life will return. It is also the pill of movement and understanding.”

Su Beishan used water to dissolve the pill and gave the mixture to his mother to drink. In a short time the old woman had completely recovered from her illness.

Su Beishan directed someone to prepare wine and invited the monk into the library, where they sat drinking wine and discussing ancient and present affairs. Ji Gong revealed to Su Beishan the splendor of his erudition and the aspirations hidden within his breast. Su Beishan than knew that Ji Gong was one who transcended the great men of the world. Su Beishan begged Ji Gong to become his teacher, and wanted to give him new clothing. But the monk would accept nothing, saying, “If you wish to thank me, it need only be as it is between us at present. Now I must go.”

Su Beishan said, “My teacher, here it will always be as if this were your worldly home. When you wish to come, you may live here.”

The monk replied, “Nicely said. Today I will return to the temple.” He left the Su household, and in the street began singing as he walked on his way.

Where now are the sounds of their laughter?

Where are the flowers and brilliant brocades?

Where are those years we once were so joyous?

Lonely tombs echo back my cry.

Though I grieve for my old companions,

I must follow the light of truth.

May I flee the world and its pleasures;

May the world only pass me by.

So Ji Gong returned to the temple. The superintendent of the monks, Guang Liang, wanted to destroy Ji Gong. Guang Liang was holding a grudge because Ji Gong had stolen his robe and also had played a trick on him with a bundle of dust and dirt that the superintendent had thought was an object stolen by Ji Gong.

Guang knew that Ji Gong slept in an upper room of the Great Pagoda, and sent one of the acolytes to make sure that Ji Gong was there—and, if he was, to burn him to death during the night.

The first time that the fire was set, Ji Gong had risen to relieve himself, and the water he made showered the little acolyte on the head and put out the fire.

When the little acolyte started a fire the second time, the high, blazing flames were seen at once. The multitude of monks in the temple cried out: “This is terrible! Quick, let us put out this fire! That crazy monk Dao Ji is up in the Great Pagoda sleeping and will be burned to death—perhaps he can be saved.”

Superintendent Guang Liang thought that this time he had been able to burn the mad monk to death. Although no one knew it, Guang Liang was just savoring this delight when he saw Ji Gong coming out of the Great Hall of Treasures. He was laughing loudly, saying, “When men call upon men to die, heaven may be unwilling; but when heaven calls upon men to die, there does not seem to be any difficulty.”

When Superintendent Guang Liang saw that Ji Gong was not dead, he was most unhappy. He went to the temple master and told him, “We are now obliged to punish Ji Dian for the burning of the Great Pagoda.”

The old temple master replied, “The fact that the Great Pagoda caught fire was the will of heaven. How can it be attributed to Dao Ji?”

The superintendent answered the temple master saying, “Nations have the law of kings; temples have the Buddhist rules. In this temple, when one person has a lamp lighted, everyone has a lamp lighted according to the time specified—such as when they come together to eat, and when they go to their rest at night. Dao Ji keeps his lamp burning all night and makes it burn like a supernatural fire. This is against Buddhist rules and he should be punished for that. He should be sent out of the temple and not be allowed to be a monk.”

The old temple master said, “The punishment you recommend is too severe. He could be sent to collect alms for the restoration of the Great Pagoda. Have Dao Ji called to see me.”

Not long after, Dao Ji was seen to come in and stand in front of the temple master, greeting him and saying, “Reverend Temple Master above, I press my palms together in greeting.”

The temple master said, “Dao Ji, you have not been keeping the Buddhist rules and as a result the Great Pagoda has burned. I am sending you to solicit funds to repair this building. Ten thousand ounces of silver are needed for the task. Ask your brother teacher to specify how many days you should be given.”

Ji Gong asked, “Brother teacher, how many days would you give me?”

The superintendent of the monks asked, “Can you raise ten thousand ounces of silver in three years?”

Ji Gong replied, “It won’t do—it’s too long. You must say some time less.”

The superintendent asked, “Can you raise ten thousand ounces of silver to repair the Great Pagoda in one year?”

Ji Gong replied, “It won’t do. It’s still too long. You can come down a little more—try again.”

The superintendent said, “Half a year.”

Ji Gong shook his head and said to come down a little more.

The superintendent said, “One month.”

Ji Gong said it was still too long.

The superintendent asked, “Can you raise ten thousand ounces of silver in one day?”

Ji Gong retorted, “If ten thousand ounces of silver can be raised in one day, you go and raise it! I can’t!”

All the monks discussed the matter together and said that there should be a limit of one hundred days. They asked Ji Gong to go out and solicit funds. If he were able to raise the ten thousand ounces of silver in that time, he would triumph. He would have paid his debt and that would be the end of his punishment.

Ji Gong agreed, and every day went out to solicit funds. In the vicinity of Linan there were countless young monks taking pledges as they begged for the salvation of all souls. Either pretending to be stupid or acting terrified, not one of them would raise his eyes from his signature book to look at Ji Gong.

One day near the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat, on the rear slope of the Flying Cliff Mountain, where there were hares, deer, foxes, and cranes, Ji Gong saw two hunters. He stopped them on the road saying, “What are your honorable names and where are you going?”

One of the men replied, “I am Chen Li; my nickname is ‘The Man with the Beautiful Whiskers’. That man is my sworn brother, Yang Meng, who suffers from a mysterious illness. We are going to hunt hares on the mountain and then return. May we ask who is the teacher?”

Ji Gong explained, laughing loudly, and then remarked, “Every day you are on the mountain hunting hares. In order to preserve your life, you terminate the life of other things.”

Yang Meng and Chen Li realized that the monk was a superior recluse and knelt to offer greetings, asking Ji Gong to be their teacher and saying, “We two from now on will change our occupation and will henceforth seek our living by acting as armed escorts for travelers.”

The monk said, “Good! Soon your business will be flourishing.”

After the two had gone, the monk went into the monastery. He spent his days drinking and no longer solicited alms. The superintendent did not press him, thinking that when the time limit had passed, it would be a fine thing to have Ji Gong sent away out of the monastery.

The days went by, first slowly and then swiftly, until over a month had passed. Ji Gong had not collected one ounce of silver. One day he noticed that none of the temple monks were nearby. Ji Gong went into the hall where the image of Wei Tuo, an ancient Hindu ruler, was located. He contemplated the ruler’s benign face.

In its bright gold leaf, the image of Wei Tuo seemed like that fabulous dancing phoenix which was said to herald and protect a just and benevolent emperor. So, it was believed, had the spirit of this ancient Vedic king of the Hindus come to herald and protect the Lord Buddha and to assist him in his teaching that all reality was one and that the goal of each believer should be to transcend the limitations of the individual. The kind and reassuring face of the image was like that of the bodhisattva Guan Yin, she who was the essence of passionate enlightenment. The light glinted from the helmet and chain-link armor of the image. About its waist was an embroidered sash, the ends of which seemed to wave and ripple in the wind. On its feet were green and black military boots, and in its hand it held the diamond-headed scepter for subduing every repugnant and malevolent spirit.

After a time Ji Gong said, “Venerable Wei Tuo, guardian spirit, go with me and help me.” Stretching out his hands, the monk picked up the image of Wei Tuo, left the temple, and started walking through the region of West Lake.

People passing him on the road said, “I have seen monks soliciting funds. There were some carrying great chains, some beating wooden fish gongs, but none wandering about while carrying an image of the guardian spirit.”

The monk laughed loudly and said, “You haven’t opened your eyes. Speak softly. This is our temple’s transportation officer.” When they heard what the monk had said, they all laughed.

Suddenly, as Ji Gong looked ahead, he could see a trail of black smoke rising in the sky. He halted and clapped his hands three times saying, “Excellent! Excellent! How can I ignore this?” Going forward, he saw that on the north side of the street there was an inn that sold wine and food. It was a building of two stories named the Drunken Sage Tower. On the wooden tablet above the door was written:

A hundred poems flowed

From Li Taibo’s brush

While he was drinking

In his Changan inn.

Great Tang Minghuang was bored

And sent his barge for him.

But Li Taibo insisted that he was

Merely a spirit in a jug of wine

And sent the emperor’s messenger

Back to him alone.

On either side of the door were lines of characters reading, “The drunkard’s universe expands,” and “In the wine pot, days and moons grow long.”

Inside Ji Gong heard a ladle rattle. He pulled aside the door curtain and asked, “May I trouble you, innkeeper?”

The innkeeper, taking Ji Gong to be an ordinary monk soliciting funds, said: “We in here will next give money on the fifteenth.”

Ji Gong said, “Right, we will next do business on the fifteenth.”

Standing outside the door, he saw three men coming from the east. They were the owner of a rice and provision shop and his guests. Ji Gong thrust out his arm and said, “If you three want to eat a meal, they will next be open in here on the fifteenth.” As soon as the three men heard this, they went to another place.

After three or four other parties had come and had all been stopped and turned away by Ji Gong, the innkeeper came out and asked very angrily, “What do you mean by stopping all my customers?”

Ji Gong replied, “I wanted to eat a meal, and when I started through the door, you told me to return on the fifteenth. I knew then that only on the fifteenth would you start serving food.”

When the innkeeper heard this, he said, “I thought you came to solicit funds. Only because of this I said that on the fifteenth I would give money to the Buddhists and the Daoists. Do you understand?”

Ji Gong said, “No, I came to eat a meal.”

The innkeeper said, “Please come in.”

Ji Gong carried the image of Wei Tuo into the back room, sat down at a long table, ordered several kinds of dishes, and drank four or five pots of wine. When he had finished, he called the waiter to calculate the bill. Altogether it amounted to a string of six hundred and eighty cash, a cash being a copper coin with a square hole in the center so that it could be strung on a string. A cash was worth a very small fraction of a cent.

Ji Gong said, “Write it on my account, and another day when I eat, I will pay both bills together.”