Читать книгу Wu Jin Zang - Pang Bei - Страница 6

The sky rained millet. Ghosts cried at night. Legend has it that when Cang Jie succeeded to invent the Chinese characters. Heaven and earth could no longer conceal their secrets, thus the sky rained millet; deities and ghosts could no longer hide themselves, thus they cried at night. In the remote antiquity, no characters were available, until Fu Xi drew the tri-grams, which gave rise to culture in the world. Fu Xi drew the eight tri-grams, followed by the creation of characters by Cang Jie.

Cang Jie was a legendary figure, who was also said to be a historian official of the Yellow king Xuanyuan. Cang Jie’s creation of characters was an effort defying the achievements of heaven and earth, thus not brooked by them. No secrets could be concealed in the universe, and therefore the sky rained millet.

The sky rained millet. Wind and thunder arose. Auspicious air built up. Such abnormal phenomena never appear later.

The law of Heaven repeated itself in endless cycles. Later generations were indeed not as lucky. Despite the numerous people looking up and down, no one had been fortunate enough to spot that miracle again.

Time elapsed quickly, and another dynasty was in place. In October of the first year of the Shengyuan Period, a group of fishermen claimed that they had witnessed this wonder. It was the day when Li Bian, the founding king of Southern Tang, ascended to the throne. Over the capital in Jinling curled purple air, and all people celebrated this great event. Before the Shengyuan Hall many elephants danced and officials hailed. Fishermen came to the royal palace from riverside, holding millet that had fallen from the sky in their bamboo hats. The director of the court of sacrificial worship introduced those offering millet to the throne. The founding king looked greatly pleased, delighted beyond measure. Carillons sounded together, and phoenixes sang in harmony. The king ascended to his throne and offered an encomium, “The heaven bestowed an auspicious sign upon the start of my dynasty. The world enjoys peace and prosperity. The great Tang will flourish for its benevolence. Cang Jie had four eyes, and my grandson’s pupils double for his excellence. The sky rained millet” The founding king’s countenance was suddenly changed, and all officials and officers in court lied prostrate. The sky rained millet, and ghosts cried at night. If the former was an auspicious sign, wasn’t the latter an ill omen?

A review of all the extant official historical records about Southern Tang only found some scattered records about the auspicious sign which people of the whole country celebrated. Carved railings and jade inlays were still present, yet how could one stand the sorrows of past events. The state was destroyed, the king surrendered, and Southern Tang was gone like smoke and ashes. This short-lived large state of Jiangnan lasted only three generations for thirty-eight years, with First King, Middle King and Last King. Once a state was destroyed, its history was also gone. Among the historical books compiled by surrendered officials on imperial orders, all the mandates of heaven and propitious signs were eliminated, so were ill omens. As to anomaly phenomena in Southern Tang, the double pupils of Last King Li Yu seemed to be the only record.

Only three people with double pupils were recorded in past history, Cang Jie, Yu Shun and Xiang Yu. Cang Jie was a literary sage, Yu Shun a sage king, and Xiang Yu an overlord. The founding king of Southern Tang gained power dishonestly, and thus Yushun’s virtue of abdication was his taboo. The usurper desisted from military activities and encouraged culture and education, unwilling to see his descendants follow the example of Xiang Yu. So he would rather regard the birth of his grandson in the year when the state was founded as a sign of the supernatural appearance of Cang Jie. With a broad forehead, plump cheeks, and double pupils in one year, this grandson of the king was born with a strange appearance. By the time when he came of age and a capping ceremony was held for him, the founding king named him “Chongguang” (meaning double light). With the makeups of dragon and phoenix and double light in a time of prosperity, the double pupils, for the king, represented literary grace.

As the handsome boy grew up, beautiful girls in Qinhuai saw tender feelings in the double pupils. After this sentimental prince and graceful scholar was enthroned like a jade tree embracing the wind, court officials saw docility in his double pupils. Some people also saw cowardice and imbecility, but no one saw murder.

When the heaven is to murder, stars and constellations are removed; when the earth is to murder, dragons and serpents arise from the land; when people are to murder, heaven and earth are overturned.

Thank goodness! As a survivor of Southern Tang, I managed to live out a meager existence incognita. I strove to live only to testify to the facts buried.

Lin Renzhao, native of Fujian, was a famous general of Southern Tang. His descendants are not mentioned in the residual historical books about Southern Tang. As his unworthy son, I am now having one foot in the grave. Though I lived on in degradation, I still maintained moral integrity and never brought disgrace to my forefathers. It is said that the present age is still a time of national peace and order, and the current king is a virtuous and enlightened monarch. Historians of the Great Song dynasty also refer to the ancestors of the king as men of virtue, who were all sage kings. King Taizu passed on the throne to king Taizong, king Taizong to king Zhenzong and king Zhenzong to the current king. The sage king of this great dynasty has also endowed me with an official position and protection, which I would not accept. I am unwilling to bear witness to the history of this dynasty. I do not want to waste my residual energy. Now that my health is declining, with trembling hands and blurred eyesight, my unfulfilled wish in the last days of my life is to write about what I saw and heard on that day of great catastrophe, not only because I was a descendant of General Lin but also I could disclose another side of the truth about the short-lived dynasty. In brief, I witnessed the scene in which “ghosts cried at night”. (Gods and spirits are immense, no one can tell whether they are real or false. Despite Sage Confucius’s reticence, I would like to them discourse..)

Demons and monsters howled and danced in broad daylight; foxes and rats moved about freely through cities. The air of rebellion was adequate to instigate rebellion; the evil spirit was adequate to create evil. When there were more people, people ate beast; when there were more beasts, beasts ate people. Let wise Cang Jie endow me with the power of writing! Let this withering hand no more tremble while holding the writing brush! I wrote about the sorrowful confession in a deserted temple on the suburbs of the city of Bianzhou.

Autumn wind soughed, wild geese in the cold flew south. The ravaged territory south of the Yangtze River had already been subsumed into the domain of the Song Dynasty. Nanjing was no longer an imperial and national capital. Not long since, it was a state with brilliant literature, and I used to wander through the picturesque landscape. In this state with a large population and abundant natural resources, civil officials were indolent and military officers were pleasure-seeking, regardless of the wolf pack on watch in the north. It was also a Buddha-worship state, where the king was a devout Buddhist, and all the people followed suit crazily. The river rolled eastward, and sutra chanting sounded like billows. Crows flurried and ate offerings to Buddha. In the late autumn of the north, I am recalling those numerous banquets, in which elegantly dressed men and women enjoyed soft music and graceful dances. The wine was running out and the guests were departing, while a gentle breeze and bright moonlight played outside the curtain. Deep inside the palace, a life light foreboded the life or death of a famous military officer guarding the state.

The monarch should treat courtiers with etiquette and courtiers should serve the monarch with loyalty. This sacred standard is found in all of the numerous volumes of Confucian classics, a compulsory course I must learn when I was in the Imperial College. But I am not intelligent, neither gifted nor diligent. I always can’t memorize poems or scriptures. Born in a waning age, I have been tired of the theory of official career. It’s said that the grace of men will not last more than five generations. And I have seen too many rich and powerful families which could not last more than three generations. Lifetime is limited, honor and joyous terminate upon death. Magnificent buildings, sumptuous banquets, such spectaculars are but transitory. Some may say that wealth can be stored for the offspring, but how many of them can keep it? Those genealogies recording a long and lofty lineage are obviously unreal. The immoral and unworthy later generations are also thugs who, despite the favor of fortune, have few praiseworthy exploits.

With the vicissitudes of fate, my life is to end soon. Now that I am hoary-headed and all alone, I think of the past when I escaped by a little boat floating in wind and weathering the elements, which was no other than an old dream. “The long road stretches afar, I spend my remaining years in sorrow.” In the dim light of dawn and dusk, when I recall those remote dusty and smoky past events, the appearances of some women always occur to my mind vaguely. Of the three charms of moonlight, one is for talent and beauty, one is for adoration and love, and one finally flees away with flowing water. The beloved parted. The hated came. One cannot get what one wishes. In this declining season of my life, I have already been freed from the pains of love, my heart free from concerns. Dreams and illusions are but shadows on bubbles, broken in an instant. Let my worn-out writing brush return to the gorgeously luxurious Jiangnan region, and to the autumn day in the sixth year of the Kaibao Period.

The sixth year of the Kaibao period, which marked the thirty-sixth anniversary of the foundation of Southern Tang, was also the second year before the perish of Southern Tang. It was an ordinary year. Despite some extraordinary records of cannibalism, no disasters such as giant earthquakes and landslides occurred. It was an ordinary day. Though it was the day of my capping ceremony, it was also the day of capping ceremony of many men in the world. It happened to be the Mid-Autumn Festival, which was also an ordinary Mid-Autumn Festival.

At noon, students of the imperial college crowded before the court, prostrating to present petitions and drumming to send in memorials. The king canceled the court meetings and no opportunities were available for people to air views. Malefactors were not punished, and people lived in utter misery. Armies from the north pressed on to the border, and the state was in an extremely precarious situation. Officials, steeped in evils, were money-mad; officers, afraid of death, were battle-shy. Of all the officials and officers in the court, only General Lin was able to command the army to resist the invasion of the enemy. (The editor’s note: It is also recorded in Ma Ling’s History of Southern Tang that Chen Qiao, a military affairs commissioner of the last king’s court, also remarked, “Had Renzhao commanded the army to resist outside invasion and I controlled confidential work, the state would not have been overthrown despite its precarious situation!”)

A hurricane rose suddenly, black clouds covered the sky. In a moment, the sky sank and the earth was dark, turning the day into a night. Students prostrated on the ground. Some beat their chest and stamped their feet. Some went around campaigning for the cause. The sun was swallowed up by the sky dog, and the sky was covered by sand and smog. All were tragically dark under heaven. Someone saw the copper camels before the court shed tears. But no golden pheasant flagpole was raised on the street before the court, nor was any imperial edict of remission issued. The king was deep inside the court shielded by nine gates, and the petitioners failed to have their petitions heard.

Even in such a precarious situation, the king still refused to criticize himself. The king was scarcely informed as he was not in the forbidden palace.

At three quarters past the noon, the royal guard army started killing. The petitioners fled in panic, three of whom were immediately killed.

I gazed afar at the imperial palace on the Qixia Mountain, but my vision was blocked out by range upon range of hills. I strained my eyes to look at the distance. It seemed that I saw a cluster of weak flames at the moment. I did not know that someone was burning himself then. Father was at the point of death. Students of the imperial college cried for justice. Someone bled and burned himself. But I could only hide on this mountain watching.

My mother said that Father’s imprisonment boded ill rather than well, but the Lin’s lineage should not end. As my parents’ only son, I should survive to perpetuate my family. I bathed and fasted to welcome the day of my capping ceremony, which turned out to be my day of suffering. Capping ceremony and learning rites means you would be a son of man, an official, an upright man, and then govern other people. My path of life would be changed by the misfortune. On this day of capping ceremony marking the start of my adulthood, I became a castaway due to misfortune. Would the petitioning students return to the imperial college? I would no longer be able to return. A traveling bag replaced my schoolbag. I had nothing but the traveling bag which kept my company while I fled for life. It would be difficult for me to return to the marquis’ mansion where I used to live an extravagant life, as that residence would no longer be my home. My mother would stay there, waiting for the king’s judgment. If Father could not escape death, my mother would go with him.

Was this cowardly king going to murder my whole family? Father’s alleged crime was scheming to rebel and collusion with the dynasty in the Central Plain. I swore to heaven and earth. Father was absolutely not a traitor, absolutely free from any ambition to defect. Once Father secretly told the king that he was planning to lead the army north to cross the river and recover fourteen prefectures south of the Huaihe River. He also made a secret suggestion that the king might announce General Lin had led the army to defect on the date of attack, to show that the king’s loyalty to the Central Plain. “If the scheme succeeds, the territory will be recovered and the state will benefit; if the scheme failed, kill my whole family to show that you do not plan to attack.” Father would choose to bear the stigma of treason and did not hesitate to pledge his family, which showed his unquestioning and self-sacrificing loyalty to the king. But the king, afraid of being punished by the Central Plain, only sought temporary ease and peace. In the Han Dynasty, when the Qidan people entered the south, the Central Plain was chaotic, and Han Xizai also also strongly advocated that they should recover the north in its time of turmoil. But Emperor Yuanzong did not attempt to make progress and finally incurred the ruin of ceding territory and river. Father proposed this scheme of pretended defection, only to be denounced by the king as being preposterous. Thus, Southern Tang let slip another golden opportunity. (Fortunately, the king was too fatuous and cowardly to accept Father’s proposal. Otherwise should there be a disaster of family extermination, I would not have lived till now, and Father’s illustrious name would have been damaged as a result. Not self-seeking and sacrificing one’s family to save the state are indeed a feat inspiring awe and reverence, but such actions are also deprivations of humanity! Such exploits can well be spared of considering normal human relations! I once harbored secret grudge against Father because of this, and such grudge has been with me for many years.)

It was said that the Central Plain did act rashly to invade Southern Tang because of Tiger Lin, namely my father General Lin. Whenever I think of Father after I had memory, I would think of that tattoo of fierce tiger on his body. It was said that Tiger Lin was the only brave general in Jiangnan, and thus was regarded by all those in and off the court as the key to the survival of the state. Father was the best of generals, but was not fortunate enough to meet a wise king, as the king was content with temporary ease and comfort by sacrificing his own respect. In a precarious time when the state was in a turmoil and people lived in fear, Southern Tang still sued for peace with gold and silk, only to drag out an ignoble existence. Those flattering pivotal officials were in fact lazy and incompetent cats. But who could predict that evil would arise in the the king’s heart to murder his loyal subject.

It was a tyrant who removed his right-hand men while reigning a state. This sentimental, fatuous and cowardly king was actually a headstrong person. It was in the sixth year of the Kaibao Period that Pan You, a domestic history drafter, was forced to kill himself for sending in a frank piece of advice, and Li Ping, Minister of Agriculture, was also hanged in prison. Of the officials in power, the scholars of my generation and myself were especially attracted by Pan You. Handsome and upright, Pan You once sent in seven pieces of advice in a row, speaking outright of current malpractices. His cautionary and alarming remarks are among rare writings in the world, “The king, who governth the world for heaven, should prioritize people’s livelihood; if the court wants to serve the people, officials must be well managed. Since your ascension to the throne, you have been working hard to protect crafty and evil persons, tolerate flatterers and cheaters, and gather vile characters in the court. As a result, people are scared like winter cicadas and tongue-tied when they meet. The country is declining like the day is close to night. By now, the country’s boundary has been ruined, robbers rise up in swarms, the state is shrouded in sorrows. Ordinary people are pathetic, while the officials are still muddleheaded and busy amusing themselves. In view of such national affairs, one cannot help but cry bitterly. In the past, when Jie, Zhou and Sun Hao ruined their state and family, they incurred the disaster by themselves, but still became laughing stocks; now your majesty takes in evil people to ruin the state, and goes far beyond the sin of Jie, Zhou and Sun Hao. I, a commoner and low scholar, have been favored by the state. But I cannot work with treacherous officials or serve a king leading the state to annihilation. If your majesty is offended by my remarks, please have me killed to let the world know!”

The royal guards in orange riding horses and carrying sword and spears, attending the officer of imperial palace services, ran directly towards the Lin’s mansion. Father was brushing his horse in the stable beside the ball court. The black and white horse jumped and leaped all of a sudden, shaking its manes and neighing loudly. I heard hurried clops outside the wall, and I saw the door guard opened the central gate at the gatehouse in a hurry.

“This is an edict bringing Lin Renzhao to justice.”

Father knelt on the ground according to rites.

The messenger announced the edict in a high-pitched voice.

“Recently, a comet has passed across the moon; the Mars has encroached upon the Big Dipper. Such phenomena mean that a subject is instigating a social upheaval, which will surely incur disasters of war. At the sight of such warnings from the natural phenomena, I feel very worried and apprehensive. As the order is given by the heaven, people do not have to fear. It is reported that Lin Renzhao has recently been stationed in Hongzhou, attempting to declare himself king of Jiangxi; as a commander of the army for long, he is seeking to collude with the enemy and defect from our state. Information has been obtained through espionage that Bianliang has prepared a luxury mansion for him, with a painting of his as the pledge, which has been witnessed by an envoy. Such treason is too serious to be tolerated! Remove his official titles, namely Commander of Brilliant Army, Commander-in-Chief of Our Army, Military Governor of Ningguo Army, Inspector, Grand Commandant and Privy Counselor, Chief of Southern Capital, and Marquis Collecting Tax from 1000 Households. By the king himself!” (The editor’s note: After seizing the State of Wu, the founding king of Southern Tang settled in Jinling as capital. First, Yangzhou, the capital of the former State of Wu, was set as the eastern capital. At that time, the Yangtze River did not enter the sea in Yangzhou. By the period of the middle king, fourteen prefectures north of the Yangtze River were ceded, and Yangzhou was handed to the Later Zhou Dynasty in the Central Plain. Southern Tang set up a southern capital in Hongzhou, today’s Nanchang of Jiangxi Province.)

Father, astonished, raised his head slowly. Father’s strong-built figure was even rare among military officers. I saw his figure trembling. Father directly looked at more across the crowd, with only exhaustion and despair in his facial expression. Father looked at me ponderously.

“I’ll go inside quickly to bid farewell to my wife”

I saw Fatherly get up slowly. I saw him about to walk toward the courtyard when Mother rush out of the drawing room. Mother looked sad and upset, as if crying voicelessly. I saw tears sparkling in Father’s eyes. He looked at me steadily. First he nodded slightly at me, and then took down his sword silently. The soldiers in armor were about to take it, when Father suddenly unsheathed the sword. The soldiers were startled, watching Father dashing towards the Buddhist Prayer Room on the left. Soldiers then pursued him carrying weapons.

Noises of cutting and killing came out of the Buddhist Prayer Room. Our family guards also took swords and spears and rushed towards the Room crying. My neck was clutched by soldiers and I was pressed down on the ground motionless. They maliciously pressed me on the ground and kicked my back. My forehead pressed on the ground and mouth knocked against sand, I could hardly breathe or shout. I turned back my bleeding forehead and saw the family guards rushing towards the Buddhist Prayer Room, where there were no more noises of cutting or killing.

Father was bound up and pushed out by many soldiers. The wounds on Father were bleeding. Mother threw herself at him while wailing. Father only shook his head gently at her. I saw Mother faint in a sudden and was supported by maids in a hurry. Father looked calm, holding a golden Buddha statuette in his left hand, and making a fist with his right hand. I saw his right hand fist smash down suddenly. Father slightly nodded at me at again. Just as I nodded back muddleheaded, Father looked back at the Buddhist Prayer Room again.

Mother fainted and fell on the ground again. Soldiers pushed Father outside while shouting at the top of their voices. Father no longer struggled, dragging his wounded leg through the veranda and pass those saddles and arrow pots.

The black and white horse was neighing mournfully. Father left home this way, no more struggling, no more looking back.

I rushed towards the Buddhist Prayer Room admist the lamentations of my family. Did Father just want to take away a golden Buddha statuette by rushing to the Buddhist Prayer Room at the last moment before he was arrested?

That was a statuette of Maitreya Buddha. In the middle of the Buddhist Prayer Room was also a large Maitreya Buddha made of jade stone. The large and small Maitreya Buddha statues, both in Buddha costumes and having spiral-shaped coils of hair, appeared solemn and merciful. Maitreya Buddha is a Buddha of afterlife, but Father said that Maitreya Buddha had a replicate in this world, often appearing before people unrecognized. I think that people fail to recognize his replicate perhaps because such a replicate does not resemble the statue. The Maitreya Buddha in the middle of this room sat with legs down, widely different from the big-bellied monk in the vogue recently. The Maitreya Buddha should have been so solemn and calm, with the corners of his mouth turning upward slightly. But today’s Maitreya mostly grins cheekily. It has become a fashion to have such a liking, but Father detested this bad taste, and he especially disliked the cloth pocket of the big-bellied monk. (The editor’s note: The Giant Stone Buddha at Leshan Mountain carved in the Tang Dynasty is also a Maitreya Buddha, also the largest cliffside Buddha statue in the world, which also appears dignified, solemn and sedate, with eyes half closed and brows lowered, sharply different from the big-bellied Maitreya people often see now.)

Would Father offer this golden Buddha statuette to the king? Would Father try to save his own life with it? The king occupied all the treasures in the state, and I didn’t see anything special with this golden statuette. Perhaps in so doing Father just wanted to confuse the imperial guards, while his intention was to direct me to this Buddhist Prayer Room. His posture and expressions in his eyes had given me adequate hints.

Embroidered banners dropped and censers rolled on the floor. The Buddhist Prayer Room was in a mess and there were several bloody traces on the altar, left over from the fighting. Father was valiant and good at archery. With exceedingly strong muscular strength, he once fought unarmed with armed bandits and beat them. No matter how powerful these imperial guards were, they were no rivals for Father. Why didn’t Father, who was an unyielding and brave person, kill these imperial guards, but instead let himself be arrested? Perhaps Father was deeply convinced that he did nothing wrong to the king, perhaps he thought he had the opportunity to plead innocence before the king, and perhaps he wished the king’s better nature would assert itself. He accepted the edict by rites and didn’t kill any imperial guard, but as he obviously had the presentiment about the imminent catastrophe, he directed me to the Buddhist Prayer Room.

Except for the traces of fighting, there was nothing abnormal with the room. I carefully examined each corner and found that the Painting on Infinite Dwelling Rosy Clouds on the wall had dropped to the floor. The painting was a masterpiece of Dong Beiyuan. I seldom entered this room. Only this painting was my most familiar article. Father once said that he would remove it to my study. The scroll was perhaps cut in fighting, and the silk ribbon for hanging was broken. I suddenly found that something was abnormal with the scroll, as on the pole of the vertical shaft were three apparent traces of sword cutting!

The three sword marks were equally spaced, like deliberately made signs. Were these Father’s sword marks? Were they deliberately made by Father? A shaft made of spotted bamboo with lacquer coating, and newly cut sword marks.

I turned the shaft lever along the sword marks. The shaft lever was not all broken, with a scroll of tough silk emerging from the bamboo pipe.

The bamboo joints of the shaft lever had been broken through, and a scroll of silk painting was hidden in the bamboo pipe. It was a scroll of about 1/3 meter tall. As thick as a handful, the scroll seemed to a long one.

The long scroll did not have a shaft head or ribbon, but had Father’s handwriting on the wax sealing: my son, open it on the day of catastrophe.

I opened the scroll left by Father on the day of catastrophe. The long tough silk scroll had bright colors and elegant objects and scene, but without inscription or sealing style. Looked at from right to left, the long painting in the middle had five sections separated by screens and coaches, and in the middle of the painting was a tall candlestick, which lit up the night scene in the painting.

It was a painting about a night banquet. From top to end, five scenes were displayed one by one, full of people enjoying songs, dances and drinks. I could identify some of them, as I used to be on the scene. I used to carry a snuffer of about one meter long to snuff fire for the candlestick. I was not on the painting. This was the last banquet of Han Xizai in his life. Secretary Han died three years ago, and should be now called Chancellor Han, as the king had already conferred to him a title of “manager of affairs” posthumously.

The image of Han Xizao appeared in each scene, repeatedly changing clothes. His most remarkable signs were his handsome beards and tall hat. Even in the scene in which he was undressed he wore this grotesque paillike hat with tassels, which was a light gauze tall hat he designed by himself. The gauze hat of the “Han style” became an elegant fashion for officials in the court and the literati. Han Xizai, with his handsome looks and uninhibited talents, was a truly erudite celebrity and had a natural bearing like a solitary tree that regarded the world with contempt; while his followers could hardly conceal their vulgarity, as they were at their best arty-crafty. The painter’s work was life-like, conveying spirit by appearance. But I read another level of meaning in it. The painting gave out a subtle touch of sorrows. Han Xizai in the painting appeared quiescent and lonely, with a dull look in his eyes, as if full of ineffable sorrows, and a certain kind of resentment was also found between his brows. He sometimes exposed his breasts and belly, sometimes stood solemnly, sometimes was absent-minded, and sometimes gazed stubbornly. The host of the night banquet was versed in music and dance and also the best of eloquent talkers, but appeared so depressed and lonely in this painting.

The atmosphere of the night banquet was both lively and lonely, sentimental and dreary. The dreariness seemed to be mixed with a sort of anguish and emptiness. What kind of private feelings did the painter peeping at the scenes have when he drew the painting? Besides Father and Lord Han, the most familiar to me was Monk Deming. In the painting, Deming in a frock stood bending his head with an awkward facial expression. His two hands seemed to be applauding, but more like joining his palms. People were watching dancers, but he wasn’t. Obviously it was not an occasion for the presence of a monk. Monk Deming, who had lectured the king on Surangama Sutra, was also Han Xizai’s good friend. As he put up at the Karma Temple for a short time, I came here by riding on a horse, in the hope that he could explain it to me, as he could probably tell me why Father left me this scroll of painting, and how this scroll might stave off disasters falling on my family. (The editor’s note: the Karma Temple is today’s Qixia Temple.)

Unexpectedly, Mother did not know anything about this painting! So Father kept the secret from Mother. I suddenly felt rather strange about Father. Awe-inspiring Father, taciturn Father. What secret was concealed in his taciturnity? Would Father conceal his concerns from the king?

All trees wailed with the sound of autumn, and all hills were enshrined by coldness. Bells and drums sounded, and yellow leaves whirled. The king’s carriage was going down a hill. This was a regular pilgrimage in mid autumn. The king had built numerous temples and raised countless monks. This year, he visited the Karma Temple in mid autumn, where there was a stupa reconstructed by Father. The King would return to his palace as soon as he went down the hill, as he would appreciate the moon together with Junior Consort Zhou. In the prison of the Ministry of Penalty near the royal palace, Father was waiting for the verdict from the king.

I looked at the imperial passageway winding through pines and bamboo groves. Carriages and horses trooped along; smoke and dust billowed up. The imperial carriage was attended by guards of honor holding golden and silver weapons as well as dragon and phoenix flags and banners. The king’s carriage troop was meandering afar. I rushed down the path for several steps, and then climbed up to an old camphor tree. If I had mastered archery as Father did, would I run after to shoot the fatuous and self-indulgent ruler? I speculated it over in my mind. But I did not have this nerve, nor was I as strong as Father. I went uphill by horse, and the horse was only a tool to save my legs from walking. I regretted that I had no hunting crossbow on hand. (The editor’s note: The crossbow is a kind of bow, which uses a mechanical device to shoot an arrow instead of human power, and is precise and powerful, traveling far.) Father started from scratch as a warrior. Despite his prestige earned through military exploits, he was unwilling to see me follow his footsteps. At my birth, they held a rite of shooting arrows made of grass with a bow of mulberry wood in the hope that I would go far away from my home and aspire to a great career. However, since I fell off the horseback when I first learned to ride a horse, Father had forbidden me from stepping in the polo field. I remember that was the autumn of the year when I was twelve. Of all the many wealthy and influential clans in the imperial capital of Jinling, the Lin’s family was the only one famous for its polo field, which turned out to be my forbidden field. The place designated by Father for me was the study. I respectfully followed Father’s order and gave up the ambition to gallop a horse conquering. Father wished that I became a civilian court official serving the king and benefiting the people, or an upright minor official living on a regular emolument. I had been steeped in those ancient books on self cultivation, family harmony, country management and world peace, but was only a scholar who had never set foot in battlefield. It had always been difficult for me to deal with the questions in imperial examinations, so I had always been dreading the failure to pass the examinations. Not good at riding or shooting, ignorant of world affairs, and not motivated, I was just a good-for-nothing feeble intellectual. But Father left me a scroll of painting to be opened at the time of catastrophe.

To rescue Father from the fatal disaster with a scroll of painting, I could not figure out a good idea for the moment. Did Father want me to find somebody to rescue him from the jail? The only soldier in the painting was Father himself. Father could have escaped by killing the imperial guards. Since he had not resisted but allowed himself to be seized without putting up a fight, he did not expect anybody to break into his jail to rescue him. Did Father want me to present the painting to the king? But I knew that the king had already seen it. It was the king who dispatched two academicians awaiting orders, Gu Hongzhong and Zhou Wenju, to steal into the Han’s Residence. They spied on and made a mental note of what they saw in the banquet. When they painted what saw and presented it to the king, the king only had a good laugh and did not keep the painting as a treasure. How came the hand scroll become Father’s collection?

Four hundred and eighty temples of Southern Dynasties still remain; So many pavilions, terraces and towers are veiled in the misty rain!

Looking down at the torrential river water running eastwards, I thought of those ships and iron chains sunken underneath it over hundreds of years. I looked afar at the capital city intoxicated in wine and pleasure and speculated how many buildings and legends long buried under the city walls and moats. Gazing at the misty rain delineated by ancient poets, I seemed to see numerous secret treasures hidden in these ancient temples. Father hid the scroll of painting in the scroll of another painting, while that eminent monk was in the painting.

Monk Deming, versed in Buddhist sutra, was also a celebrated painter. He once obtained a jinshi academic degree but was dismissed for speaking bluntly. As a result, he gave up his aspiration for an official career and dedicated to studying Buddhism. But now he was not in the Karma Temple. The abbot said that he had returned to the Qingyuan Mountain. I stood before the cell where Monk Deming had stayed, and went to draw water from the well. I drank to my full half a ladle of clear and sweet water and saw my own reflection in the well. Legend has it that when General Hou Jing fled to the Qixia Mountain after being defeated, he threw the emperor’s chop into the well. A monk of the temple salvaged the chop and presented it to Emperor Wudi of Chen. This ancient temple had too many legends, but none of them was related to me. I only wanted to locate the person that might help me as soon as possible. Monk Deming was not in this temple. I blankly looked at the board on the door head of the abbot’s room, a “virtual white plaque” of white characters inscribed on a black background: overcome all pains and hardships.

The inscription was written by Xu Xuan, Minister of Personnel. The calligraphy was plain, dignified, solid, staid and elegant, harmonizing variations and ingeniously using round strokes to compose square characters. The inscription of the board above the gate of the temple was also written by Xu Xuan, who had a villa here on a manor land granted by the king to the west of the temple with luxuriant ancient trees.

Minister Xu was a man of simple character, a virtuous and learned scholar equally famous as Han Xizai. They were mentioned together as “Han-Xu” among the literati south of the Yangtze River. That is to say, Han and Xu were both celebrated for their writings and calligraphy in the country. Xu Xuan, a good friend of Han Xizai, started his official career later than Han, and was guided and supported by Han in his early years. Also, Xu’s son-in-law Wu Shu, who wrote exceptionally well, was also thought highly of by Han. After the death of Han, of the “Han-Xu” duet, only Xu Xuan remained, who was esteemed as the leading scholar by the intelligentsia. Minister Xu also used to frequent the banquets held in the Han’s Residence, but Xu did not appear in the painting. I indeed did not see him that night. Now that I had escaped to this hill, I was determined to visit him. Minister Xu, a celebrated Hanlin academician and also a valet of the king, might be able to give me some support. Erudite Minister Shang was a rare wise man among officials of the court. When he was Chief Censor, an elephant died suddenly in the northern royal garden, and the cook tried to find its gallbladder in vain. The king sent someone to ask Xu Xuan, who answered that the elephant’s gallbladder was in its front left foot. The cook cut the front left foot and it turned out that the gallbladder was there. According to Xu, the gallbladder’s position changed with change of seasons. As it died in spring, its gallbladder was in its front left foot.

The elephant symbolizes peace. The king sits facing the south, his left being the east, which corresponds to spring of the four seasons. To knowledgeable Xu Xuan, the secrets in the scroll could be instantly decoded.

Minister Xu’s villa was magnificent and spacious. I showed my visiting card at the sedan chair hall with overhanging eaves and jet angles. The doorman appeared to be reluctant, saying that Minister Xu did not meet any stranger. I produced two pieces of silver and placed one on the visiting card. The doorman said since I was General Lin’s son, I presumably was not a stranger, but he added that Minister Xu happened to have caught a cold and would probably not meet any guest. Seeing him gazing at the other piece of silver on my hand, I said that if I could meet Minister Xu, I would give more. I placed the other other piece on hand on the visiting card, and the doorman praised me for “knowing worldly affairs”. He trotted in to report, while I waited quietly in the hall for being summoned. As a matter of fact, I was not a stranger, as I met Minister Xu once, a hurried yet unforgettable meeting. Minister Xu’s bearing was the very exemplification of what was learned and refined, what a gentleman should be. All those who had met him shared this same impression with me.

I was recalling that meeting, when the doorman ran out distressed. His breast was all wet. Minister Xu splashed tea water on him.

Both being exemplary savants of today’s world, Han Xizai was more broad-minded, while Minister Xu was more poised. How could urbane and refined Minister Xu act so rudely? The doorman said it was because he disturbed Minister Xu’s chess game.

Minister Xu was the national champion in chess games. One day in a past year when he was playing chess with the king, a palace attendant suddenly reported that Xiao Yan, Director of the Court of Judicial Review, requested an interview. Xiao Yan became impatient after long waiting and rushed directly into the palace apartment. Seeing that the king was so obsessed with the chess game, he overturned the chess table. The king asked if he was giving direct criticism after Wei Zheng. Xiao Yan replied that he was not as good as Wei Zheng, and your majesty was also not Emperor Taizong of Tang! Xiao Yan flew into a rage because the king neglected affairs of the state for playing chess. The king ended the game without saying a word and did not condemn Xiao Yan for his offense. The king thus got a good reputation. At the beginning of his reign, the king was so open to good advice. But now that the state would decease, the king acted so wantonly as to put a good general into the death prison.

The doorman stretched one hand to me smilingly.

I produced another piece of silver and put it on his hand.

Walking through red serpentine corridors and along a winding path leading to a secluded place, I found Minister Xu sitting all alone in a pavilion surrounded by exquisite rockwork, flowers and trees. He sat motionlessly, as if he was also a rare stone.

I did four obeisances to Minister Xu. Even when I worshiped Confucius in the imperial college, I was not as devout and respectful. I called him “Chief Minister”, which was a term of respect for the Minister of Rites. As Xu Xuan once acted as Assistant Minister of Rites, I called him “Chief Minister” to highlight my respect for him. I apologized for having disturbed his chess game.

Minister Xu, who held a black chess piece between his fingers, perfunctorily returned a salute, and did not raise his head to look at me in face. He only gazed at the chessboard in a daze. The stone table in the middle of the pavilion was a chessboard, on which an end-game was displayed by black and white chess pieces. I did not mind his cold shoulder, as after all it was I who disturbed him, while he was deeply absorbed in the end-game.

I looked at the poem inscribed on the pavilion hill, which was obviously in the seal script written by Minister Himself: Like a strange stone by water sitting, I opened my coat and hung up my hat. Leaving behind a mind of scheming, I forget myself in chess games and fishing.

Minister Xu was famous for his seal script and official script. He especially loved the small seal style of Li Si, Prime Minister of the Qin Dynasty. This poem was inscribed in the style of the small seal style of Li Si.

“Loot!” Minister Xu suddenly dropped the black chess piece on the chessboard and clapped several times happily. I was almost illiterate about chess, so I dared not look at the composition of the chess game, for fear that he would discuss it with me.

“The blue mountains are not tired of a thousand cups of wine, one chess game is enough to wind off a day. For chess, there is a movement called no movement, and a playing called no playing. Do you find anything peculiar, Mr. Lin?

“I’m too ignorant to know what’s behind these characters…”

I looked at those characters on the chessboard. There is one character on each of the nineteen vertical and horizontal lines. Indeed I had never seen such a chessboard.

“The 19×19 grid has always confusing many people. The ancient chess manual has been lost, so chess players often cannot grasp the main points. Now I have written The Xu’s Chess Manual, which covers all tactics, easy to learn and memorize. I expect that I might attain immortality for it ten thousand years later. You see, in this chess manual, the nineteen lines are marked by one character each, one heaven, two earth, three talent, four time, five elements, six palace, seven fight, eight square, nine states, ten sun.…”

I could not remember how I managed to get over this topic. Perhaps the topic was dismissed when Minister Xu found that I was absent-minded. Minister Xu led me across a medicinal garden, then through a stone arch, and then along a long wisteria corridor. At the end of the corridor was a study.

The study was tastefully furnished and spotlessly clean, with a strong ancient impression. On the antique-and-curio shelves of the dividing wall, there were exquisitely made books and numerous classical scriptures, including the four eye-catching volumes of Shengyuan Model of Calligraphy for Practice compiled by Minister Xu upon the order of the king. Minister Xu was a world famous calligrapher. His Qin Zhuan script featured round and powerful jade-like structure and unadorned and antique style. It was said that since Li Yangbing of the Tang dynasty the Zhuan script had failed to be handed down to later generations. Now only Xu Xuan could retain his style. Though his calligraphy somehow lacked power, it showed exceedingly good mastery. On the “Tang Tongbao” coins in my bag there was his inscription of Qin Zhuan style. On the wall of this study also hung a scroll of calligraphy in the small Zhuan style of Li Si, meaning:The emperor has Heaven-granted favor, and the empire will last and prosper forever. Xu Xuan’s small Zhuan scripts were among the best, with the most wonderful touch being: there was always a stroke of dark ink right in the middle of a character. I was not in the mood of appreciating the calligraphy, paintings, bells, dings or inscription rubbings, as I only wanted to mention the unexpected disaster falling upon Father. Minister Xu listened to my full story without turning an eyelash. I looked forward to his instructions, but he kept silent. I said that he once associated with Han Xizai, but he told that he was no longer a frequenter of the night banquet in the Han’s Residence in those years.

Han Xizai was suspected by the king in his later years. Did Minister Xu estrange him for self-preservation? Playing with a bamboo section of poem, he said that he did not have any past or private enmity with Han Xizai. But as gentlemen did not give vicious remarks after they were broken up, he did not speak ill of Mr. Han in public or in private. I didn’t know why he said so to me.

I took out the Banquet Painting left by Father, at the sight of which Minister Xu’s eyes were brightened. I unrolled the scroll on the broad desk. Minister Xu bent over to examine it carefully. When I spoke of the circumstances under which Father left me this painting, another thread of light sparkled in his eyes, but immediately followed by a deep frown. He said he was willing to help but unable to do so, as the state was declining and the end game had started. He said that I should be farsighted as I was after all a young man. After some lamentation, he returned to the chess book he was compiling. On the desk were several volumes of chess book by ancients, including An Article on Weiqi Game and A Treaty on Weiqi Game.

“Ancients, when writing books, didn’t consider themselves always right, and didn’t consider their books completed before their death. When Xu Shen wrote A Chinese Dictionary of Words and Expressions, he didn’t think it completed even when he was old and it was before his death from illness that he had his son present the book. I also learn from the ancients, and keep postponing the finalization of my book Examples of Weiqi Tactics until my death in the hope of perpetuating it.”

On Minister Xu’s desk was a pile of edited manuscripts of A Chinese Dictionary of Words and Expressions. Xu was a master researcher of A Chinese Dictionary of Words and Expressions. It was said that he had added many vernacular words to the dictionary. But at this moment, I was not here for seeking knowledge, so I was not in the mood to listen to his scholarly discussions. (The editor’s note: A Chinese Dictionary of Words and Expressions by Xu Shen in the Han Dynasty is China’s first dictionary which systematically analyzes Chinese character patterns and investigates into word origins. The original work has been long lost. Of the extant versions, the ones edited by Xu Xuan and his brother Xu Kai are the earliest, called “Big Xu Edition” and “Little Xu Edition”.)

“In time of danger, one should give up, and when one is powerless, one should seek peace.” I did not know whether he was talking about chess or about me, as he was only addressing the weiqi manuscripts.

“Chief Minister, what is your opinion about this Banquet Painting?…Father was struck by such an unexpected disaster. How come that you are speechless about it?”

“Hard to say, very hard to say. The wonder is indeed wonderful, but is very like a riddle …A riddle! Wonderful! This vernacular work can be added to the dictionary! ‘’ an enigma, formed by (word) and (perplexing). An official of Qin spoke words with concealed meaning in the court. The so-called words with concealed meaning in ancient time are today’s enigmas, commonly called riddles .”

“Chief Minister, thank you for your instructions. This scroll of painting is also a riddle, and I come here for resolving it.”

Minister Xu did not pay attention to me, but instead was gazing at the manuscript on his desk. On this desk, there was a rockery ink slab, a dragon tail ink slab and half a piece of precious Tinggui ink stick. Minister Xu picked up a writing brush from the dragon tail ink slab and slowly wrote the character “” on a piece of bamboo paper.

He held down the paper with a paper weight. No doubt, he would add this character into the dictionary.

Despair had gradually occurred to me. At this moment, I was overcome by rage, and could no longer stay modest and courteous. I advanced in big strides. I wanted to force him to speak. “Now that your father is imprisoned, the king can kill him at his own will. You come here to seek my help, but alas, my fate is also at other people’s mercy.” Minister Xu took up a court report and shook it, on which were the latest imperial orders compiled by the Chancery. “Do all that one can and leave all else to Heaven. Have you heard of this saying? Then I give you another old saying: let neither men nor words go to waste. Act as you should act, and stop when you should stop.”

“I’m helpless, and have no one to talk with. As your excellency is a wise man, I beg you to give me some instructions.”

“Hard to say, harder to say well. My speech cannot enlighten the king, nor can I remedy the current malpractices even if I sacrifice myself. When serving the king with Tao, one may well stop if it is of no avail. I only try to prove myself to follow my own conscience and not to go against what I have learned. No more than that! You look”

His excellency Xu suddenly bent over to sneeze and then angrily waved to me, as if ascribing his gaffe to me. I could imagine the phrase interrupted by his sneeze, a regular polite formula given by an elderly person to a young man, which was actually an order for a guest to leave: look out for yourself!

“Look out for yourself!” His excellency Xu uttered this sentence after standing up straight.

Look out for yourself. At this very moment, this mere polite formula was delivered by Minister Xu this way, but beyond my understanding. I came to seek his help in such a dire emergency, he should not have looked on indifferently considering human feelings and reason. After all, the caller was General Lin’s son. You waited for your capping ceremony after bathing and fasting, you became a fugitive on the day of the capping ceremony, and you came to seek help from the most learned man of the time when driven to desperation, but he only gave you such a mere formula.

I felt all blood in my body coagulate, as if suddenly freezing in a cold current, drying up all at once.

At last, I took a look at the Bamboo Bird Painting on the wall. The scroll was inscribed with “By Zhongyin”. The king called himself “Hermit of Zhongfeng”, and “By Zhongyin” was an inscription he often used in his calligraphic and painting works. The king was good at both calligraphy and painting. The Bamboo Bird Painting, which integrated calligraphy and painting, was of a unique and innovative style. That was a “trembling stroke” created by the king. The bamboos, birds and calligraphy in the painting all took a shape of trembling and pulling. Judging from their artistic conception and forceful strokes, they seemed to be subject to the control of a certain external force, and a certain pulling mechanism seemed to be hidden among the strokes.

“I don’t believe in Buddhism!” Minister Xu deplored with sighs suddenly, “In this Buddha mountain, instead of Buddha’s light, some sinister air has appeared!”

The mountain wind raged suddenly, while pilgrims on horses became scarce. Minister Xu “was willing to help but unable to do so”. He seemed to keep me guessing. I could hardly decide whether he knew the answer to the riddle. This was a cold shoulder beyond my expectation. I had no one else to seek help from and nowhere to go for protection.

I returned to the temple again, and passed the bell and drum tower and the free life pond again. The Night Banquet Painting was hidden in the vertical shaft of the Painting on Infinite Dwelling Rosy Clouds (Qixia Wujin Tu), while the painter of this landscape painting had been dead for several years. So I could only come to the Qixia Mountain. Dong Beiyuan mostly painted real landscape in Jiangnan. As the vertical shaft was titled the Painting on Infinite Dwelling Rosy Clouds (Qixia), I wished that the riddle might be figured out on this mountain.

As the most eminent landscape painter of this dynasty, Dong Beiyuan was good at painting peaks, clouds, islets and woods. It was said that his ink paintings were carelessly done, which almost did not resemble things at a close look, while displaying scenes only observed afar. In the Painting on Infinite Dwelling Rosy Clouds, landscape was still in his plain and artless style, with peaks surrounded by clouds and mists, and the temple in the mountain was highlighted. The main part of the painting was not the Birobong Hall of the Karma Temple, but the exquisitely engraved stone pagoda, the seven-storied stupa in front of me. At this moment, several pilgrims were walking around the stupa, and I could only watch far away from it. (The editor’s note: Buddha’s relics were unusually important for the early spread of Buddhism in China. A pagoda was built only when there were Buddha’s relics. The way of worshiping Buddha was to walk around a stupa, which was the center of a temple, widely differently from the today’s temple in which the hall precedes the stupa.)

A white deer ran over from the Thousand Buddha Ridge, and scampered towards the stupa. I followed the spry and light figure towards the white stupa, and saw the white deer leap over the rails of the stupa foundation.

When I reached the reliefs of the stupa foundation, the white deer quickly disappeared.

The Buddha statue was grand and solemn, and the stupa shone with brilliant light. This was the tallest stupa in the world. Emperor Wen of the Sui dynasty, Yang Jian, once came across a nun called Zhi Xian, who presented him with several hundred Buddha’s relics. Yang Jian, after ascending to the throne, was deeply convinced that he was blessed by the Buddha, and ordered the eighty-three prefectures across the country to build stupas to display Zhi Xian’s portrait and keep Buddha’s relics. He separated the relics and presented them to the stupas of the eighty-three prefectures. The one that got the relics first was the Qixia Mountain.

It was a stupa reconstructed under the sponsorship of Father and Court Admonisher Gao Yue. The wooden stupa in the past was destroyed in the Buddhist extermination movement during the Huichang period of the Tang dynasty. The stone stupa reconstructed was more solid. At this moment tomorrow, perhaps Father would no longer be living, but this stone pagoda would stand erect for one thousand years. This stupa was Father’s beloved construct. At this moment next year, Father would perhaps be transformed into a pile of skeleton. No one would build such a pagoda for him. I also did not know where he would be buried. I wish the king would grant him imperial wine, let him commit suicide and preserve his whole body. The Buddha is benevolent! In the past when he saw a skeleton by the roadside, he prostrated to salute it. The Buddha said that this pile of skeleton was my ancestor in my previous life, parent of my several lives. For this predestined relationship, I saluted it now.

The Buddha has always been benevolent. The Buddha said that there was great manifestation of god where a pagoda was.

The big bell on the stupa rang, and the prayer flags fluttered. I looked up at the warrior’s statue well armed with armor and weapons on the stupa (The editor’s note: The first floor of the stupa on the Qixia Mountain has two heavenly king’s statues and two strong men’s statues. The one armed with armor and weapons should refer to a heavenly king’s statue. The author might deliberately write the heavenly king’s statue as a warrior’s statue.) The warrior had a heroic bearing, with raised eyebrows and glaring eyes, one hand raised and clenched into a fist and the other stretching forward grasping. His shape resembled a stonemason holding a chisel and hammer. I seemed to have seek Father’s figure, an awe-inspiring figure, a travel-stained figure, and a figure on a galloping horse commanding the army. That figure was going far away. All of a sudden, I could not even remember Father’s appearance.

Father was still alive in this world at this moment. I tried not to have apprehensions. I prayed silently to dispel these apprehensions. I silently read the prajnaparamita verse on a detached column in the room in the stupa:

All is conditioned existence ephemeral,

Like a dream,an illusion, a shadow and a foam

Like a tiny dew drop or a flash of lightning,

That’s the way that everything goes.

The autumn mist was vast and the wind soughed in the pines. Several cries of monkeys were heard in the clouds and mists.

I was about to turn around and leave, when a voice stopped me. At that time, I was standing under a plum tree before the stupa.

“Where is Childe Lin going?”

With a cool wind, the person appeared in a mist, who turned out to be a Taoist priestess with falling hair and holding a sword. The woman priestess looked vivacious, walked sprightly and rapidly. In addition to her crane-like cloak and jade visage, she was like a goddess. She held a graceful jessamine herb in hand. I never met her before, but she knew that I was Childe Lin. “A disaster will befall you! Officers and soldiers were sent everywhere with orders to arrest you. You should hide yourself as soon as possible.”

She wore a pair of shoes with a phoenix head on top of clouds and had a twin-spike silk ribbon around her waist. The priestess’s eyes were clear and deep, as bright as ripples on autumn water. I stood speechless and perplexed, only taking a look at the graceful jessamine herb in her hand, and then anxiously gazing at the bird on the plum tree. Just now I was looking at the direction from which she came. Behind the stupa was the Thousand Buddha Ridge, but no one was spotted in that direction. I was about to turn around and go downhill when she called me there. But I did not know how she came to appear behind my back. These years, in the imperial college I learned the maxim that a gentleman should be watchful over his words. I did not speak not for preserving the so-called gentleman’s bearing; I did not speak because I was deeply convinced that I should be especially prudent before strangers, let alone in such a critical condition. I kept quiet, only blankly staring at the bage (myna) bird on the tree. (That bird was originally named “quyu”, but as the sound of “yu” was the same as the given name of the king Li Yu, the people in Southern Tang called quyu “bage”. But now I no longer had to avoid it, but rather disdained to mention his name. Now Li Yu was already in the nether world, and I was old and infirm.)

“General Lin was afflicted with such great suffering, but he will not necessarily suffer from a calamitous disaster.”

I could no longer conceal my surprise. Obviously this person was aware of Father’s perils, and she also knew that I was Childe Lin.

On her frock was stuck with a colubrina asiatica leaf. Suddenly I felt an imminent danger. I should inquire about her origin.

“To rescue Father from disaster, I would shrink from no sacrifice.”

“I’m afraid you would seek your own doom. This mountain, all the worse, is not for you to stay.”

I looked afar along her vision at the mountain path where a huge cloud of dust rose, and saw that a large unit of imperial guards had marched to the foot of the mountain.

“Perhaps the king has some other aims…”

“We have never met before, how came that you know the incident at my home?”

“Isn’t to meet is to meet again? There is a great cause for it.”

“May I ask…your name, respectable priestess?”

“Taoism does not care about name, or age. I myself forgot them long ago, but people still call me Master Geng.”

Suddenly I thought of Master Geng during the reign of the previous emperor. She frequented the court and had such an anecdote as refining snow into gold. That should be a past matter over a decade ago. That Master Geng was also a Taoist priestess. I thought that Master Geng was even older. I didn’t know whether they were the same person.

“I have heard of a Master Geng who can refine snow into gold, but don’t know whether you are that master.”

“Sometimes I am.” The priestess only smiled faintly.

Though perplexed, I felt that this person had an unusual background.

“Master, you said that the king had other aims. I’m wondering what is he after?”

“I also don’t know, but you have to look for it.”

“With that thing, can I surely rescue Father?”

“Perhaps…but not surely…”

“I’m ignorant, and long for…your instructions.”

“I see you are quite gifted. Let me say something more. There is a Buddha worship room in the court and before the Buddha is a life light. You should find the treasure before the light is off.”

“Treasure?”

“Since it is a secret collection, it must be a treasure. You should find this treasure. Perhaps General Lin has left a clue…”

“No…Father has left nothing…”

“So there is indeed a clue? Perhaps a certain kind of secret collection?”

“It is you who said it…”

“Don’t you have one with you?”

Before I reacted, she grabbed hold of my bag. I even did not see how she came near quickly. The moment she stretched her hand, it seemed as if wind was hidden under her sleeves, and a hint of dark red clawfingers was revealed from the cuffs. I retreated several steps alarmed, while she dodged and drew back immediately.

Caught by a nameless panic, I hurriedly clenched my bag in the front and held it tightly with two arms.

“But this is not the king wanted, as he has already seen it.” A faint smile swept past her lips. I was worrying that she would grab my bag, when I saw her wave her hands and laugh grimly, “Han Xizai opened a night banquet, but his drinking capacity was of tiny drops! Since General Lin left this painting to you, you should do your best to decode it, but should not resort to others’ help.”

“I haven’t…”

“Didn’t you go to the Xu’s Residence just now?” Her eyes were swift and fierce like lightning, at the sight of which I could not help but shiver. “If you don’t keep it confidential, you will suffer yourself. You should watch out each moment. As to that treasure, it is not known whether it has anything to do with Shi Xubai.”

“Shi Xubai?…”

That hermit who retired from public into woods, a hermit who walked alone and aspired high, for me, was only a legendary figure. At this very moment, just because of the painting on a night banquet in the Han’s Residence, I was even related to that figure who had long passed away. I knew that Shi Xubai was an old friend of Han Xizai and that they were both natives of Beihai, Shandong Province. They moved south together in the past. Shi Xubai proposed on impulse without due consideration that they should waged a northern expedition, which was not adopted by the founding king. So Shi Xubai traveled in the south to Kuanglu and amused himself with poetry and wine. After the middle king ascended to the throne, due to the vigorous recommendation of Han Xizai, Shi Xubai was summoned by the king again. But this hermit said he was a common person and dared not to make plans for the state. Shi Xubai got drunken and fell at the foot of the steps leading to the king’s hall. The king regarded him as a true hermit and granted him land and let him go back. By the time when the king ceded fourteen prefectures south of the Huaihe River and took the Yangtze River as the boundary between the northern state and his own state, Shi Xubai wrote the Rhapsody on Ceding River to deride it, “Boats and carriages are limited, traveling along islands leisurely; fish and turtles are ignorant, still swimming in the river happily.”

The State of Song in the north had already had already stationed army on the north of the river. Businessmen and travelers were all forbidden from crossing the river. Blocked by hills, mountains and forests, I could not see the obstructed river, or any fish or turtle happily swimming now. However, the vapor of the river rose above the trees on the mountain, forming a stretch of slow-moving clouds and mists, which displayed a sort of exceptionally gloomy pale color, just like a row of surrendering banners.

“When I had a study tour in the White Deer Cave of Kuanglu, I heard that Master Shi had already passed away…”

It was said that Master Shi died after lying drunken for several days. Before he passed away, he had a bamboo rod placed inside his coffin. At his burial, people found something strange, but only saw the bamboo rod when the coffin was opened. People said that at that time there were two white cranes on his roof. Once Master Shi breathed his last, they saw three white cranes fly away.

“Flying geese pass without leaving a trace, while people leave their names when they pass away. The story of Shi Xubai is not finished…”

Gazing at the formation of flying geese crossing the sky, the priestess sighed faintly. Puzzled, I was speechless for the moment. While crying loudly, the formation of flying geese went far away slowly. But Shi Xubai, who had deserted the world, seemed hard to be deleted from people’s legends.

When she turned to me again, I inquired tentatively again, “It was said that when the first king died Master Shi was also by the side of his death bed.”

“The first king took pills of immortality in his later years, and died in the Purple Pole Palace. Shi Xubai was indeed by his death bed. Shi Xubai showed him a scroll of painting.”

I peeped at the bag on my back, and was about to ask, when she stopped by raising a long finger.

“It’s getting late. It was fortunate to pluck this twitch grass today.”

The one in her hand was obviously a graceful jessamine herb, whose roots and leaves were both highly poisonous. But she said that it was a twitch grass. On the Qixia Mountain with luxuriant grass and woods, it was not difficult to find a twitch grass. I felt this priestess was very suspicious. Since she said that this poisonous grass was a twitch grass, how many things were creditable in her remarks just now? I didn’t want to point out her lie.

“A nobleman’s mansion is deep like the sea, and a homeless person’ path is as long as the end of the world. I have to go down the mountain. You should also go away quickly and find a place to hide yourself.”

“But you said that I should find that treasures.” I gazed directly at her eyes; I wanted to see how she would try to justify herself.

“I just mentioned it…. If one is destined to suffer this disaster, I’m afraid it would be of no avail to hide. It would be better to go through the suffering.”

A shadow blurred in her eyes. It seemed that she wanted to avoid my questioning, her moving sight returned to her own cuffs, where dark red fingernails were exposed. I suddenly felt that she seemed to have some witchcraft.

“Heaven bless you, and give you a good lot!”

Her sleeves waved. I stepped back at a loss, and then saw she held an ivory lot pot, in which there was a bunch of lots written with words.

I looked at the lot pot surprised and bewildered. Since she knew my identity, I should not be timid. If this lot could indeed predict my fate, I would not be afraid of facing the fact with the worst surmise, even if the fate was shown by her witchcraft.

I slightly closed my eyes and heard the clear sounds of aeolian bells, which made me broad-minded for the moment, feeling that I was praying and drawing a divination lot. I was praying silently for Father’s life. I condensed all the luck in the unseen world among my five fingers. I drew a lot from the pot and held it before my eyes.

On the lot were no ordinary auspicious or ill words, but several lines of a poem, which I seemed to have read before

All day long I looked vainly for spring signs

My grass shoes raising clouds from the dust of all fields

Returning home, I smilingly pick a plum-blossom and sniff it

And lo! Here on the sprig is spring in its fullness.