32

Humu Di Intones Poems and Visits the Netherworld

It is said that the most treacherous court minister of the Song dynasty was Qin Hui [1090–1155],¹ courtesy name Huizi, a native of Jiangning. He was born with a peculiarity: his feet measured one foot four inches from heel to toe. He was therefore nicknamed the Long-Foot Scholar when he was a student in the National University. Later, he passed the imperial examinations and rose to the post of vice–censor in chief in the reign period of Jingkang [1126], when the capital fell under attack by the Jurchen [Jin] army and the two emperors, Huizong and Qinzong, were carried o to the north. Qin Hui, too, found himself stranded among the Jurchens. He cultivated a friendship with Wanyan Chang,² a Jurchen tribal chief, and said to him, “If you let me go back to the south, I’ll be willing to spy for the Jurchen state. If, by any luck, I rise to power, I will certainly initiate a peace negotiation out of my gratitude for the great Jurchen state, and have the Southern Song dynasty cede territory and subjugate itself to the Jurchen state.” Wanyan Chang reported accordingly to the Jurchen ruler, who instructed his fourth son, Wuzhu [Wanyan Zongbi, d. 1148], to enter into a secret pact with Qin Hui. Qin Hui was then released to the south.

Qin Hui and his wife, Wang-shi, journeyed south by sea. On arriving at Lin’an, the capital of the Southern Song dynasty, they claimed that they had gotten away by killing their Jurchen prison wardens. Emperor Gaozong believed their story and asked Qin Hui about the situation in the north. Qin Hui extolled in glowing terms the prowess of the Jurchen troops and claimed that the Southern Song dynasty was no match for them. Not surprisingly, Emperor Gaozong took fright and asked Qin Hui for a good plan. Qin Hui said, “Since the house of Shi of the Later Jin dynasty submitted itself to Liao, the central plains have been on the decline and there is little chance of revitalizing in a short period of time. That the empire was nearly wiped out in the Jingkang crisis was more the will of heaven than the work of humans. Your Majesty just started the southern dynasty, with the populace still apprehensive and the generals away from court, in command of massive forces. Should any one of them betray you, the game will be as good as lost. (A foreshadowing of the murder of Yue Fei.) The best course of action for now is to hold back the troops and make peace. Draw a demarcation line separating north and south so that both sides will not invade each other. Remove military power from the generals, and Your Majesty can sit back and enjoy your riches in ease, while the people of the empire will be free from misery and su ering. Wouldn’t that be most desirable?”

The emperor replied, “I do wish to make peace. My only fear is that the Jurchens will not agree.”

“When I was among the Jurchens,” said Qin Hui, “I came to be respected by the Jurchen chieftains. If Your Majesty entrusts me with the mission, I will find a way to guarantee success of the peace talks. Nothing will go wrong.”

Overjoyed, the emperor then and there conferred upon Qin Hui the title of vice-director of the Department of State A airs. Promoted soon thereafter to the post of deputy prime minister, Qin Hui took on the sole responsibility for peace talks and appointed Goulong Ruyuan as his vice–censor in chief. All court ministers who advised against the peace talks were removed from their posts at Qin Hui’s insistence. (How efficient!) Among those demoted and banished were Zhao Ding, Zhang Jun, Hu Quan, Yan Dunfu, Liu Dazhong, Yin Tun, Wang Juzheng, Wu Shigu, Zhang Jiucheng, and Yu Chu.

In the meantime, Yue Fei [1103–42] was putting the Jurchen forces to rout in battle after battle. Wuzhu, the fourth son of the Jurchen ruler, was driven into such desperation that he sent his trusted subordinate Wang Jin to Qin Hui with a note stu ed into a wax ball. On the note was written, “If there is a will for peace, why all this show of force at the border? The prime minister is insincere. Nothing less than the death of Yue Fei will make the peace talks a success.” Thereupon, Qin Hui had Wang Jin take back a letter of reply promising that he would kill Yue Fei as a token of his good faith.

In the course of a single day, he issued twelve golden plaques ordering Yue Fei to withdraw his forces from the front, much to the indignation of all the soldiers. There was not a dry eye among the villagers, old and young, in the Henan region. Yue Fei duly returned, only to be demoted to the position of supervisor of Longevity Temple. Bent upon the total destruction of Yue Fei, Qin Hui took counsel with his trusted man Zhang Jun and found out that Wang Jun, commander in chief under Yue Fei, had a grudge against vicesupreme commandant Zhang Xian, whereupon they heavily bribed Wang Jun into falsely accusing Zhang Xian of conspiring to seize the town of Xiangyang in order to restore military power to Yue Fei. Wang Jun did as he was told to do. Qin Hui threw Zhang Xian into prison and, with a counterfeit imperial decree, summoned Yue Fei and his son to confront Zhang Xian. Vice–censor in chief He Zhu, who was in charge of the trial, found the accused innocent of the charges and informed Qin Hui accordingly. Qin Hui flew into a rage and replaced He Zhu with Moqi Xie [1083–1157]. Now this Moqi Xie, having long harbored ill feelings toward Yue Fei, fabricated a case against him and his son and sent them to prison on charges of planning a rebellion with his subordinates Zhang Xian and Wang Gui. Xue Renfu, director of the Court of Judicial Review, and others appealed on Yue Fei’s behalf. Zhao Shiniao, director of the Office of Imperial Clan A airs, vouched for Yue Fei’s loyalty by pledging the lives of a hundred members of his clan. The military a airs commissioner, Han Shizhong, indignant at the injustice, made a personal call to Qin Hui’s residence to challenge him. But all who spoke up were either reprimanded or deposed.

With Yue Fei now in prison, Qin Hui sat alone by the east window and pondered over the matter: “If Yue Fei is spared his life, he might obstruct the peace talks, and I’ll lose credibility in the eyes of the Jurchens. Should the emperor come to his senses, the blame will be upon me. But, to kill Yue Fei would be to risk public outcry.” And so he debated with himself, unable to come to a decision. (Qin Hui still has a trace of goodness in him at this time. If he had had a virtuous wife, the evil deed might not have been done.) His wife, Wang-shi the tongue-wagger, happened to walk up to him and ask, “What is it that you are undecided about?” When Qin Hui took her counsel, she produced a mandarin orange from her sleeve and split it apart. She handed one half to her husband. “What is so difficult about splitting this orange in half? Haven’t you heard the ancient proverb ‘It is easier to capture the tiger than to release it’?” It was these remarks that made up Qin Hui’s mind. Thereupon, he sent to the prison warden a sealed letter containing a note with several characters on it. And thus it was that Yue Fei was hanged in his prison cell that very night. His son Yue Yun was taken under guard, along with Zhang Xian and Wang Gui, to the marketplace for execution.

As news of Yue Fei’s death reached the Jurchens, there was not a person among them who did not celebrate with wine. Peace was established, with the middle course of the Huai River and Tang and Deng Prefectures as the border. The Jurchen dynasty in the north, being the bigger country, claimed to be the “uncle,” whereas the Southern Song dynasty, smaller in territory, was the “nephew.” Qin Hui was granted the titles of grand preceptor and duke of Wei, later changed to duke of Yiguo, and was given a mansion near Wangxian Bridge, a mansion not any less grandiose than the imperial palace itself. His son Qin Xi received the honor of zhuangyuan at the age of sixteen, later to be promoted to the position of Hanlin academician in charge of the Institute of Historiography. (With a trusted subordinate as the imperial censor, he makes sure that all criticisms against him in his lifetime are under control. With his o spring as historians, he makes sure that records after his death will be in his favor. He leaves nothing unplanned for. But how is one to know what Yama’s books say?)³ Qin Xi’s son Xun was assigned in his infancy a position in the Hanlin Academy. At the moment of her birth, Qin Xi’s daughter was granted the title Lady Chongguo. The family’s power and influence had no match in all history.

When Lady Chongguo was six or seven years old, she had a pet cat. One day, the cat disappeared. The prefect of Lin’an was ordered to find it before a deadline. Cao Yong, the prefect, dispatched runners everywhere who brought back hundreds of cats. Cases where owners found themselves accused and had to buy themselves out of trouble were too numerous to be mentioned here. Yet, as none of the cats sent under guard to the prime minister’s mansion was found to be the right one, thousands of drawings of the cat were posted in teahouses and wineshops, with the prefectural reward set at one thousand strings of cash. The uproar throughout Lin’an lasted for over a month, but the cat was still nowhere to be seen. Under pressure from an official sent by the prime minister to see that the job was done, a frightened Cao Yong had a cat cast of gold and sent it, through heavily bribed waiting women, to Lady Chongguo. Only then was the case laid to rest. (Even his seven-year-old daughter loves bribery. It is indeed something that runs in the family.) This incident alone is enough to demonstrate the extent of the traitor Qin Hui’s formidable power.

Later in his life, he began to have designs on the throne but feared those court ministers who had survived his purges. In an attempt to send all of them to prison, he accused Zhao Ding, Zhang Jun, Hu Quan, and fifty others of rebellion. His secretary wrote the memorial to the emperor. That very day when the memorial was ready for his signature, Qin Hui went on an outing to West Lake. (These men’s lives are now hanging by a thread.) In the midst of the drinking, there came into view a man with disheveled hair. A closer look revealed him to be none other than Yue Fei, who said, his voice loud and harsh, “I am instructed by the Lord on High to take your life as punishment for your destruction of the loyal and the virtuous and for bringing calamity to the empire and the people.”

Agape with astonishment, Qin Hui turned to the people around him, but none of them had seen anything. Then and there, he fell ill and returned to his residence. The following day, when his secretary presented him with the memorial for his signature, his attendants helped him sit down in Getian Pavilion. When he tried to sign his name with a brush-pen, his hand started trembling and the memorial was all smeared with ink blots. Another copy was promptly brought to him, but the same thing happened, so that not even one character could be attempted. His wife, Lady Wang the tongue-wagger, shook her hand from her position behind the screen, saying, “Don’t make him too tired!” The next moment, Qin Hui fell forward upon the tea table. By the time he was brought into his bedchamber, he was already unconscious and unable to utter a single word. He died shortly thereafter. The fifty-three ministers were not destined to perish at his hands after all. Fair and just indeed are the ways of heaven, as these lines attest:

Soon after Qin Hui’s death, his son Qin Xi also died. At the funeral ceremony arranged by Lady Wang the tongue-wagger, the necromancer was in the midst of a prayer by the altar when he saw Qin Xi standing in the netherworld with an iron cangue on his neck. The necromancer asked, “Where is His Excellency your father?” Qin Xi replied, “He is here in the netherworld.” The necromancer went there, and whom did he see but Qin Hui, Moqi Xie, and Wang Jun, with disheveled hair and dirty faces, moving ahead in iron cangues in great anguish, under the promptings of cudgel-wielding demon guards.

Qin Hui said to the necromancer, “Please be kind enough to convey a message to Lady Wang and tell her that what she said to me by the east window has been disclosed.” Unaware of what this was about, the necromancer duly relayed the message to Lady Wang, who knew all too well its underlying meaning. She was stunned. How true it is that human whispers ring as loud as thunder in the ears of heaven, and evil deeds done in a dark room are as clear as lightning in the eyes of heaven. She died thereafter of an illness brought on by the shock. Soon after her death, Qin Xun also died. In a matter of a few years, the Qin family’s fortunes went on the decline. Later, when construction of a canal got under way by order of the imperial court, loads of earth and dirt were piled up right in front of the Qin residence. At this grim sight, a poet passing by Wangxian Bridge wrote these lines on the wall:

After Qin Hui appeased the Jurchens, the Song dynasty lost its chance and ended up serving its enemies. While the emperor and his ministers were indulging in wanton dissipation, Temujin [Genghis Khan], Emperor Taizu of the Yuan dynasty, raised an army from the desert steppes. His grandson Kublai, Emperor Shizu of the Yuan, wiped out both the Jurchen and the Song dynasties. Song prime minister Wen Tianxiang [1236–83], courtesy name Wenshan, who was a man of honor and integrity, mustered troops to render service to the emperor. However, for all his aspirations, he was captured by Zhang Hongfan, a Yuan general, but he adamantly refused to surrender in spite of all e orts to win him over, and was executed at Chaishi, Yanjing, in the nineteenth year of the Zhiyuan reign period [1264–94] of the Yuan dynasty. His sons Daosheng, Fosheng, and Huansheng all died before him. His younger brother Wen Bi, also called Wenxi, and Wen Bi’s son Wen Sheng, who was made Tianxiang’s heir, both ended up ingratiating themselves to the powerful and the eminent in the Yuan court, as these lines by a contemporary poet attest:

In the reign period of Huangqing [1312–13] under Emperor Renzong of the Yuan dynasty, Wen Sheng rose to be grand academician of the Academy of Scholarly Worthies.

Our story forks at this point. Let me now tell of a scholar by the name of Humu Di, who lived in the town of Jincheng in the beginning years of the Zhiyuan reign period [1335–40] under Yuan emperor Shunzong. An upright and outspoken man, he often said, “Should I some day rise to power, I shall not rest until the imperial court is swept clean of all insidiousness and peopled by none but the virtuous.” But his time had not yet come. He sat for ten imperial examinations in succession but failed each time. He became a recluse on Weifeng Mountain, where he continued with his studies and, at the same time, planted a vegetable garden as a way of supporting himself. However, he was still prone to occasional eruptions of wrath at the injustices of the world.

One day, he sat drinking all by himself in a small room. When he had drunk himself into a state of semi-intoxication, he reached into his bag for a book to read. The book he laid hands on happened to be A Biography of Qin Hui the Conspirator by the East Window. Before he had quite finished the book, a seething rage seized him and out came an endless stream of indignant words against Qin Hui’s treachery. The second book he extracted from the bag was The Posthumous Transcripts of Prime Minister Wen Tianxiang. After he had read the text aloud from beginning to end, his anger at the injustice mounted. With a slap on the table, he cried at the top of his voice, “How blind heaven is to let such a loyal and righteous man be killed and left heirless!” In a rush of indignation, he poured himself more wine and drank until he was tipsy. He prepared some ink and wrote a quatrain on the book about Qin Hui:

After intoning these lines over and over again, he pushed the book aside and wrote another quatrain on the transcripts of Prime Minister Wen:

Still in a poetic mood, he added another quatrain:

With this, he threw down his brush-pen and read the poems aloud several times over again. Overwhelmed by the e ect of the wine, he went to bed without even bothering to take o his clothes.

Presently, there came approaching him two runners in black, who said with a bow, “We are sent by King Yama to invite you. Please follow us without delay.”

The name Yama meant nothing to Humu Di in his groggy state. He said, “I don’t know anybody by that name. Why is he inviting me?”

The runners in black laughed. “You will know the moment you get there. There’s no need for more questions.” Humu Di was about to say something more in protest when the two grabbed him and dragged him o . Several li out of the city limits, there was nothing but desolate wilderness shrouded in a lateautumn misty rain. Several li later, there loomed into view the walls of a city that appeared to be teeming with inhabitants and traders. It was only when they drew near the city gate that Humu Di realized, from the characters inscribed on the board across the gate, “Fengdu,” that this was no other place than the netherworld. Now that he had gotten this far, there was no turning back.

After passing through the gate, they came upon a magnificent palace with the words “Palace of the Sun” inscribed above the tall vermilion gate. One of the runners in black stayed with Humu Di, while the other went in and emerged quickly again to lead him to King Yama. They stopped in front of a hall labeled “Hall of Darkness,” where Yama presented an imposing appearance in his royal robe and crown, looking just like a statue of a deity in a temple of the mortal world. To his left and right stood six runners in green robes and black boots, tall caps, and wide belts, each carrying a register. At the foot of the dais stood about a hundred attendants, among whom were the fearsome Ox-Heads and Horse-Faces, with their long muzzles and red hair.

As Humu Di kowtowed from his position at the foot of the steps, Yama asked, “Are you Humu Di?”

“Yes, sire.”

In an outburst of rage, Yama thundered, “As a scholar well-versed in the classics, you should know better than to harbor such bitterness against the ways of heaven and to speak of deities in such disparaging terms!”

Humu Di rejoined, “I am but a humble young man who started learning the ways of the former sages and worthies from an early age, and, poor as I am, I have been content with my lot and cultivate myself morally. I harbor bitterness to none, man or heaven.”

“You did say, ‘When did heaven ever know good from evil?’ If that is not bitter slander, what is?”

It now dawned upon Humu Di that he had indeed written such a line in a drunken state. He bowed twice in apology: “When I was reading the biographies of a good man and a villain, wine got the better of my customary caution and prompted me to utter those bitter words. I beg for Your Majesty’s forgiveness.”

“Explain yourself,” said King Yama. “How is it that heaven does not distinguish good from evil?”

“Qin Hui betrayed the country, sought peace with the Jurchens, and murdered the emperor’s loyal subjects, yet he himself enjoyed a life of wealth and fame, his son Qin Xi became a zhuangyuan, and his grandson Qin Xun a Hanlin academician. All three generations had the honor of being members of the Institute of Historiography. On the other hand, Yue Fei, a most loyal subject who dedicated himself to the service of the empire, was slain, as was his son. Wen Tianxiang, the minister of the greatest integrity toward the end of the Song dynasty, died without an heir, his three sons having died before him of hardships of a life constantly on the run. His brother surrendered to the enemy and yet both father and son rose to prominence. Where is the way of heaven that should reward the good and punish the evil? That is what puzzles me and where I need your enlightenment.”

King Yama gave a hearty gu aw and said, “What do you, a petty scholar of the mundane world, know about the subtle workings of heaven? Emperor Gaozong was, in fact, a reincarnation of the third son of King Qian Liu,⁵ ruler of the states of Wu and Yue. For a hundred years of their reign, the Qian family did nothing to tarnish their good name. Later, when Qian Liu entered the imperial court, he was detained by Emperor Taizong, who pressed him for territorial concessions. During the reign of Emperor Huizong, the pregnant Empress Xianren dreamt that a god in a golden cuirass said to her with a fierce glare, ‘I am the king of Wu and Yue. Because you wrested territory from me for no justifiable reason, I am now sending my third son to be reborn to you to claim back our land.’ No sooner had the empress woken up than she gave birth to a son, later named Gou, also known as Emperor Gaozong. His hopes were to regain his territories in the south, so he had no ambition to recover the central plains. It therefore fits into the scheme of the workings of heaven to have Qin Hui seek peace with the Jurchens. (This is the account given in Past Events of the Xuanhe Reign Period [Xuanhe yishi] and repeated in The West Lake Records [Xihu zhi].)

“However, as Qin Hui should not have ruined the innocent, the Lord on High put an end to his family line. Qin Xi was not the issue of Qin Hui, but was adopted by Qin’s wife from her brother Wang Huan. Granted that the subsequent generations did live in grandeur, how is it possible for Qin’s soul to receive o erings made by descendants of another clan?

“Yue Fei is a reincarnation of Zhang Fei [d. 221] of the period of the Three Kingdoms, whose integrity and loyalty remained every bit as firm as a thousand years before. Zhang Fei was first reborn as Zhang Xun with the same surname, and again as Yue Fei with the same given name. However unjustly both Yue Fei and his son died, their descendants from generation to generation have been thriving and will continue to thrive. As for Wen Tianxiang, the reputation of his loyalty and righteousness and the same qualities of his sons and his wife will go down to posterity through the ages. Wen Sheng, his nephew, inherited the family line and, by being an upright official, preserved the family’s good name. How can you call Wen Tianxiang heirless? (This convinces me that nephews are indeed like sons.) Retribution from heaven can occur during or after one’s lifetime. A blessing may turn out to be a calamity; a calamity may turn out to be a blessing. Only by seeing the larger picture—in the mortal world as well as in the netherworld—from a historical perspective can one realize the perfection of the workings of the ways of heaven. You are looking at the sky through a narrow tube, which explains your limited view.”

Humu Di nodded vigorously and said, “Your words of wisdom have enlightened me in my ignorance in much the same way as the sun dispels clouds. I am much obliged. However, the average man, in his ignorance, cares only about the pleasures and hardships of this life. How is he to know about the retribution that will be visited upon him after his death? To urge people to adopt virtuous ways and shun evil is to ask them to do something as intangible as to grasp the sound of the wind or the reflection of the moon in the water. There is no deterrent to hold them back. That is why bad people far outnumber the good. However unworthy I am, I would like to visit the netherworld from one end to the other and witness all the retribution for evil deeds, so that I can relate what I have seen to inhabitants of the mortal world to motivate them to cultivate themselves. Will you let me?”

Yama nodded and, handing a letter to a runner in green, instructed him in these words: “Tell the warden of the Prison for the Condemned to open the gate and show this scholar how retribution is done in the netherworld. Tell the warden not to be remiss in his duty.”

Thus instructed, the runner led Humu Di into a western corridor. About three li after passing the hall, they came upon a stone wall several tens of feet high, with an iron gate bearing the inscription “Prison for the Condemned.” The runner rapped the knocker three times before the gate opened, and out came several yakshas,⁶ who charged at Humu Di. The runner checked them with a shout: “This scholar is an innocent man.” When he showed the yakshas the letter from Yama, they said, “We thought it was another condemned soul. We had no idea a scholar would be visiting. Please don’t take o ense.” With that, they bowed and let Humu Di in. There was a square stretching for over fifty li in width as well as in length. It was a chilly and bleak place, with tablets hanging on all four sides. The one to the east said “Prison of Wind and Thunder,” the one to the south “Prison of Fire Vehicles,” the one to the west “Vajra Prison,” and the one to the north “Prison of Coldness.” Scattered all about were more than a thousand men and women in iron cangues.

When they came to a small door, they saw about twenty naked men with disheveled hair confined to iron beds by enormous nails driven through their hands and feet. With iron cangues on their necks, they were covered with scars and weals from swords and canes. The stench from the pus and blood was most repulsive. By their side was a woman in an iron cage, stripped to the waist. A yaksha was pouring boiling water on her. Her skin and flesh all festering, she gave out wails of pain. The runner in green said, pointing at three men on the iron bed, “These are Qin Hui, Moqi Xie, and Wang Jun. The woman in the cage is Qin Hui’s wife, Lady Wang the tongue-wagger. The others are Zhang Dun, Cai Jing and his sons, Wang Fu, Zhu Mian, Geng Nanzhong, Ding Daquan, Han Tuozhou, Shi Miyuan, Jia Sidao, and other depraved villains.⁷ I am instructed by King Yama to inflict torture upon them in your presence.” This said, he drove Qin Hui and others into the Prison of Wind and Thunder, where they were tied to a copper column. Each time a yaksha struck a ring on the column with his whip, a bevy of daggers emerged from the wind and stabbed the men’s bodies, which in no time looked just like sieves. After what seemed like an eternity, a thunderbolt struck their bodies and reduced them to powder. Their blood gushed out and curdled on the ground. Before long, in a gust of sinister whirling wind, they reassumed their human shape. The runner said to Humu Di, “What you saw was the thunder and wind of the netherworld at work.”

He then called upon yakshas to drive them to the Prisons of Vajra, Fire Vehicles, and Coldness and subjected Qin Hui and others to further torture. They were fed iron balls to stay their hunger and molten copper to quench their thirst. The runner explained, “In three days, they are made to go through all of the prisons for tortures of every description. After three years, they will be reborn into the mortal world as oxen, sheep, dogs, and pigs to be slaughtered, skinned, and eaten. Their wives will be reborn as sows to eat human filth and to be knifed and cooked. Those that you see have already been reborn as beasts over fifty times.”

Humu Di asked, “When will they be absolved of their sins?”

“Only when the universe reverts to its original state of swirling chaos.”

Humu was then led in a westerly direction to a small gate bearing the inscription “Prison for the Evil.” In the prison were over a hundred prisoners in cangues who looked like hedgehogs, with their bodies covered from head to toe with daggers. To Humu Di’s question about their identities, the runner replied, “These are generals and court ministers of past dynasties—Liang Ji [d. 159], Dong Zhuo [d. 192], Lu Qi, Li Linfu [d. 752] among them—known for their wickedness in deceiving the emperor and plaguing the people. Once every three days, they are put to the same tortures as Qin Hui and others, and in three years’ time, they will be reborn as beasts, just as Qin Hui will be.”

They then directed their steps to a small gate to the south with the inscription “Prison for Disloyal Eunuchs.” Tied to iron columns with iron chains piercing through their noses, hundreds of cows were being slowly roasted by a fire blazing on all sides. Humu Di asked, “What did the cows do to deserve this?”

The runner put up a hand in admonition: “Say nothing. Just watch.”

At his bidding, a yaksha fanned the fire with a huge fan. As the raging flames roared and leaped high, the insu erable pain made the cows bellow and move about as their skin and flesh burned. A good while later, the skin of each cow split open with a tremendous crackling sound and out emerged men who, upon a closer look, turned out to be beardless eunuchs. As the yaksha threw the eunuchs into a cauldron of boiling water at the bidding of the runner, the skin and the flesh disappeared, leaving only heaps of white bones. Shortly thereafter, cold water was poured in, whereupon the bones gathered themselves into human forms again.

Pointing at the eunuchs, the runner said, “These are eunuchs of past dynasties, including Zhao Gao [d. 207 B.C.E.] of the Qin dynasty; the ten eunuch directors of the Han dynasty; Li Fuguo [704–62], Qiu Shiliang [781– 843], Wang Shoucheng, and Tian Lingzi of the Tang dynasty; and Tong Guan [1054–1126] of the Song dynasty. Raised in royal style in palaces, they learned to cheat their masters and bring about the downfall of the loyal and the virtuous, wreaking havoc throughout the empire. The retribution meted out upon them here will last for kalpas and kalpas.”

When they went to the prison to the east, they saw thousands of men and women, naked and barefoot, some of whom were having their hearts boiled, peeled, or gouged and some of whom were being cut, seared, pestled, or ground. Their wails and lamentations could be heard several li away. Pointing at them, the runner said, “In their lifetime, they were all greedy, corrupt, and lawbreaking officials who brought a›iction to others and betrayed their teachers and elders, in total defiance of all norms of loyalty and filial piety. It was their iniquity that brought such retribution upon themselves.”

Humu Di was enraptured. He said with a happy sigh, “Now I know how fair and how discerning heaven and the gods are. The bitterness pent up in me for my whole life is now all gone.”

The runner pointed to the north and said, “That’s the prison for monks and nuns guilty of extortion and debauchery. There’s another prison for dissolute women, jealous women, rebellious women, and fierce women.”

Humu Di said, “I now know well enough about the operations of karma and need not see more.”

The runner, with a smile on his face, led Humu Di by hand back into the Hall of Darkness, where Humu Di bowed twice and, after some words of gratitude, presented Yama with a quatrain:

Humu Di said again, “I fully accept the evidence of my eyes about the retribution visited upon the wicked. But where are the loyal ministers and other men of honor? I would be delighted beyond measure if my wish to see them could be granted.”

With his head lowered, Yama thought long and hard before he replied, “They are all reborn as human beings destined for greatness and heaven’s bounties. After living out their natural spans of life, they return here to wait for the next reincarnation. Since you wish to see them, I will take you there.”

King Yama ascended his chariot and bade his valets to escort Humu Di and follow closely behind. Before they had traveled quite five li, there came into view a richly decorated jade palace with a green-tiled roof and a vermilion tablet inscribed in gold “Court of the Underworld.” Inside, there were hundreds of celestial youths dressed in purple silk, wearing bright jade pendants, and carrying colored streamers, a bird-feather canopy, and flower banners amid wisps of ephemeral mist and spinning flower petals. Celestial music filled the air, with dragons and phoenixes joining in the band. An exotic fragrance assailed the nostrils. Sitting on the raised dais were over a hundred people, wearing crowns, robes of brocade, and vermilion shoes. The jade ornaments they wore shone in dazzling splendor. Around the dais, over five hundred jade maidens in red silk stood in a ring, some carrying tall fans, some holding decorated jars. At the sight of Yama, they descended the steps to greet him. The exchange of greetings over, guest and hosts took their respective seats. After tea was served, King Yama explained the reason for Humu Di’s visit and bade the latter to make another bow. The men returned the bow and said in unison in a praising tone, “This gentleman is indeed ‘a man of true worth who loves as well as hates.’” A seat of honor was set aside for Humu Di, who demurred and repeatedly declined the o er. Yama said, “This extra honor is done in recognition of your righteousness. Why insist on declining the honor?” Thus admonished, Humu Di took the seat with a bow of gratitude.

Yama said, cupping one hand before the other in front of his chest in a gesture of respect, “These gentlemen on the dais were all loyal ministers and honorable men whose names are passed down to posterity in the mortal world and who enjoy bliss and beatitude in the netherworld. Every time a sagacious sovereign appears on the scene, they are reborn as members of the nobility to support the sovereign in his rule, for the benefit of the empire. Today marks another of these changes in the cycle of destiny, because every several decades, there will emerge a great man to bring order to chaos. Thus, the gentlemen here will be reborn one after another to become famous court ministers who will assist in the establishment of a new dynasty.” (The good officials in the imperial court of the current dynasty are all reincarnations of these men.)

Humu Di, as before, presented the company with a quatrain:

The gentlemen all raised folded hands in a gesture of gratitude. Yama said, “You have now seen how retribution for both good and evil never errs. If you were made King Yama, I am afraid that you would not be able to do better than this.” At these words, Humu Di left his seat, made a deep bow, and asked for forgiveness, but with one voice, the gentlemen said in his defense, “This scholar is not to blame. His complaints were prompted by his sense of righteousness.”

Yama laughed, “How right you are!”

Humu Di asked with another bow, “I still have a question that I humbly ask you all to shed light on. I have been most assiduous in my studies from childhood on and have never been guilty of major aberrations. Why have I never attained any academic honors? Am I to understand that this is a retribution for my sins in a previous life?”

Yama said, “At present, the empire is ruled by the Mongol Yuan dynasty, which has turned the world upside down. You, being the honest and outspoken man that you are, should not hold office in such a court, because you have no predestined bond with the Mongols. As my term of office is due to expire soon, I have been weighing your strengths and weaknesses and find you to be the right man for my current position. I shall report to the celestial court and recommend you as my successor. (This is much better than passing the imperial examinations.) For now, you may return to the mortal world and live out the rest of your preordained span of life. I will come to greet you after ten years’ time.” So saying, he ordered two runners in red to escort Humu Di back home. An overjoyed Humu Di bowed twice in gratitude and bade farewell to the assembly.

After he walked for over ten li, dawn began to break. The runners told Humu Di, “Your house is where the sun is rising.” Humu grabbed them by their clothes in an attempt to o er them a token of his gratitude, but the two firmly refused. For all his insistence, his hand slipped without his realizing it, and, in that very moment, the two runners vanished from view. The next moment, Humu Di was asleep with arms stretched out. His lamp was still flickering feebly against the sunlight that was showing through the window paper.

Henceforth, Humu Di gave up all thoughts of obtaining office but assiduously applied himself to self-cultivation. Another twenty-three years elapsed. He was sixty-six years old when, one afternoon, runners from the netherworld appeared to him with orders to escort him to his new post. Behind the runners was a procession of chariots and attendants, a procession grand enough for a king. Humu Di died that very evening. In another ten years came the fall of the Yuan dynasty, and China regained control of the empire. The gentlemen in the Court of the Underworld were notified of their rebirths for important positions in the imperial court. A later poet had this to say: