21 INQUIRING INTO HIS FORTUNE, TUIZHI SEEKS AN ORACLE IN A TEMPLE

In the distance the Qin Pass rises in manifold layers;

The dust of carriages and the tracks of horses stretch from west to east.

High pavilions cling to cliffs, surrounded by Heaven-towering cypresses;

On an ancient road a Chan hermitage, overgrown by pines

Enveloping the cracked walls, shielding them from the morning sun.

Nearby a cool breeze stirs up ripples in a duckweed pond.

Sitting alone in a thatched hut with no one come to visit,

There is only the slanting sun which reddens the ground.

As Tuizhi’s party was struggling through the snow, Lan Caihe said to Xiangzi, “My immortal brother, you see how Tuizhi hasn’t met a single soul for ten days and has had no place to rest himself. Yet still he hasn’t had the slightest change of heart or any true regrets. Truly his nature is as inflexible as iron or rock. However, while we need to keep up the pressure on him, if he freezes or starves to death in this severe cold, we will defeat our own purpose. Let’s go up the mountains and order the local earth god to materialize a temple, where Tuizhi can rest a while and find shelter from the snow. Surely there is no problem with that.”

“You’re right, my immortal brother,” Xiangzi said. Forthwith he called out the mountain and earth gods and ordered them, “My uncle Han Tuizhi originally was the Attendant Great General, but was banished to the human world. The Jade Emperor sent me to deliver him. I have already tried several times, but he still hasn’t changed his mind. Traveling in such a snowstorm and on the Blue Pass road in the Qin Mountains, he will be extremely cold and hungry. Go to the fork in the road and materialize a temple there in which he can find shelter. If he uses the divination sticks to ask for an omen, give him three negative oracles in a row. Do not fail!”

Having received their orders, the mountain and earth gods really did materialize a temple at the road fork. What did this temple look like?

Small, oh so small the three temple halls;

Low, oh so low the two side wings;

Surrounded by a wall made of yellow clay,

The leaves of the doors hanging askew and loose.

In the center images of the earth god and his wife,

On the sides the ghost judges striking their imposing postures.

Passing travelers encountering difficult adversity

Ask the oracle and draw its sticks, but get only muddled answers.

Having struggled against the wind and snow for half a day, Tuizhi, Zhang Qian, and Li Wan were completely exhausted. When suddenly they spied a temple ahead, Zhang Qian said, “Master, ahead there is a temple! Let’s go inside and take shelter for a while. If there is a temple keeper, we can have him prepare some hot soup and hot water, and eat a little.”

“Yes, let’s go inside and stay there for the night,” Tuizhi said. “We shall continue our journey early in the morning.”

Li Wan hurried forward to hold the reins. Tuizhi descended and stepped in front of the temple. Looking up, he saw a tablet with the inscription, “Shrine to the God of the Earth and Grain.”

Tuizhi sighed and said, “If there is an earth god temple, there should be people’s homes nearby. Why haven’t we seen a single one on this long journey?”

The party entered the temple. Tuizhi stepped forward, bowed, and announced, “Grandpa Earth, you truly are a selfless spirit. I was banished to Chaozhou for my loyal service to the nation. My whole journey has been arduous, the hunger and cold hard to bear. Today the snow is coming up to my horse’s head and I cannot go on. I have no choice but to avail myself of your temple to spend the night. I pray that you will protect us, that the snowstorm will soon clear up, that my career will prosper, and that I will soon be allowed to return home and be reunited with my wife.”

“There is a container with divination sticks on the altar, which surely is for the use of visitors,” Zhang Qian said. “Master, how about requesting a stick to divine our fortunes?”

Accordingly, Tuizhi scraped up some soil to substitute for incense, and prayed to the deity, “Enlightened spirit above, I, Han Yu, have been banished to Chaozhou. On the road, I have suffered many setbacks. Now I have reached the Blue Pass in the Qin Mountains. How far is it still to Chaozhou? If from now on our blessings will be many and misfortunes few, I beg that you will grant me a positive divination stick. If our misfortunes will be many and blessings few, please give me a negative one.”

He shook the container for a long time and eventually obtained a negative stick. He drew three times, but each time he got a negative response. When he saw this, Tuizhi said, “How sad! I have drawn three negative sticks in a row. My life must be destined to end here.”

Zhang Qian and Li Wan went to the rear of the temple and found a keeper, an old man, supporting himself on a staff. As he stepped outside, his head trembling and shaking, he saw Tuizhi and burst into laughter. Tuizhi said, “What are you laughing at? We have come a long way and are hungry. We’d be very obliged if you could prepare us some food.”

The temple keeper said, “I am an old man who can’t sleep at night and can’t get up early in the morning. By the time I rise, it is already late. When I manage to cook a meal, it has to last me for the whole day. If you’re hungry, I have some rice here, but you have to cook it yourself, if you want it to reach your bellies any time soon.”

“Please give us some cinders, if you have any,” Tuizhi requested.

“You seem to be an educated man,” the temple keeper said. “How come you don’t know that there’s fire within stones?”

Thereupon Tuizhi called to Zhang Qian, “The old Daoist is right. Get a flint-stone to light a fire and prepare the food.”

“I only know to make fire by drilling into wood,” Zhang Qian said. “How do you make fire with a stone?”

“Get me one,” Tuizhi said. “I’ll handle it myself.”

Zhang Qian quickly scratched the snow away, picked up a stone, and handed it to Tuizhi. The temple keeper then pulled an iron blade and lighting paper cylinder from his sleeve. Tuizhi took them, but however much he struck the stone, not a single spark came out. When the temple keeper saw his unsuccessful attempts, he came forward and took the stone and blade. With trembling hands he struck them just two or three times, and a bright red fire was started.

Overjoyed, Zhang Qian took the cylinder and went to look for the kitchen stove, only to discover that the kitchen building stood askew, its walls fallen over, and that the stove had collapsed and the pot was broken. There was not even a single basin or bowl. He sighed, caught hold of the temple keeper, and said to him, “Looks like you don’t eat, but just swallow pneuma, eh?”

Pretending not to hear him, the temple keeper said, “When I wasn’t awarded a degree, I still didn’t run around making courtesy calls to my betters, wagging my tail and begging for patronage. When I did receive a degree, I still knew to be content, and withdrew at the height of my success. Why should I get overexcited?”

“This old Daoist is making fun of me,” Tuizhi said.

“The old fellow probably ate some leftover clams that didn’t agree with him,” Zhang Qian said. “As a result he’s now all confused and talking nonsense. Pay no attention to him.” Then he and Li Wan gathered some stones and built a temporary stove. They dragged down some tree branches and lit a fire. From their travel bags they took a small copper pot, filled it with snow, and set it on the stove.

Unexpectedly, however, the snow melted down to no more than a bowlful of water. They had to melt several pots of snow before they had enough to cook rice. It wasn’t until evening that they could eat a meal.

The temple keeper had gone into the rear building and hadn’t come out again. As they had no place to rest, Zhang Qian said, “There are no clean guest rooms or beds in the temple. If you don’t find it too revolting, we should spend the night in the back with the temple keeper.”

“Master, don’t go in yet,” Li Wan said. “Let me have a look at his room first.”

“You’re right,” Zhang Qian agreed.

When Li Wan ran to the rear to look, he saw only a straw mat on the floor, on which the temple keeper lay, fully clothed. He didn’t even have a blanket, let alone a curtained bedstead. Turning back, Li Wan murmured under his breath, “With such sleeping arrangements, perhaps it’s better if the master doesn’t come in here!”

He gave the whole story to Tuizhi, who said, “We are stranded in a desolate area, and the temple keeper is a man in his dotage, who is content just to survive from day to day. Where would he get a bedstead to sleep on? It is my bitter fate to have been banished to such a place.”

“Do not vex yourself,” Zhang Qian said. “In this windy and snowy weather, we can count ourselves lucky to have found this temple to rest in. Without it our situation would be even worse.” When everything had been said, they had no choice but to curl up and huddle together in a heap in front of the deities’ shrine.

Sighing all the time, Tuizhi hardly closed an eye all night. At daybreak he looked around and saw they were all huddled together underneath an old pine tree, the horse standing nearby. All around there was nothing but snow, which luckily had not fallen on them. No temple was to be seen, and no temple keeper. Tuizhi stared open-mouthed, and then quickly called to Zhang Qian and Li Wan, “How come you two are still asleep?”

Li Wan dreamily rubbed his eyes and said, “I am getting up already.”

When Zhang Qian looked up, he was greatly startled and said, “That old Daoist is a master robber!”

“What do you mean by that?” Tuizhi said.

“If he weren’t, he’d have left tracks to follow,” Zhang Qian said. “Why, he even tore down the temple and took it away!”

“The old Daoist couldn’t have dismantled it so cleanly,” Li Wan said. “He must have had help from some craftsmen.”

“Why did we so sleep so deeply that we didn’t even hear any noise of axes and saws?” cried Zhang Qian.

“It’s because we were so exhausted from the journey and our exertions last evening,” Li Wan offered.

“You’re both making wild guesses,” Tuizhi said. “Surely when a house is torn down, some roof tiles and waste wood will remain. How could it have been cleaned up so thoroughly? No, Heaven took pity on me, because I had been banished due to my loyalty and righteousness, and nearly died of cold and hunger. Therefore it sent the local mountain and earth gods to materialize this temple so that I might stay for the night. Stop talking such nonsense!” Then Zhang Qian fastened the horse’s rope, Li Wan shouldered the luggage, and they continued their journey. Indeed,

Thinking back to the time when he was rich and noble,

How could he have known his present loneliness and grief?

The road to Chaozhou is long—when will he arrive?

Looking back to Chang’an, the road is lost among cloudy trees.

Tuizhi’s party had not walked even three to five miles when suddenly the cold wind started again, and snowflakes came beating down into their faces.

“Master, it’s snowing hard again,” Zhang Qian said. “What shall we do?”

“Xiangzi! Xiangzi!” Tuizhi wailed with deep grief, “If you have forgotten me and my wife’s sacrifices in bringing you up, you should at least remember that I am your father’s brother. At a time of such suffering, why do you still not come to rescue me?”

“The little master may already be dead, and we don’t know where he died,” Li Wan said. “We don’t even know whether or not someone collected his bones. You’re calling for him now, but he couldn’t hear you even if he were a divine immortal. What’s the use?”

Actually, Xiangzi was up in the clouds following Tuizhi. When he heard Tuizhi calling for him so grievously, he changed into the shape of a peasant, who came walking along carrying a hoe.

When Tuizhi saw this peasant, he thought to himself, “How can someone plant fields in this wilderness on such a snowy day? Surely this must be a ghost. Earlier those two ghosts in the shapes of a woodcutter and a fisherman already led me by the nose for a whole day. Now I’ll recite a passage from The Book of Changes to subdue him. Let’s see if that frightens him.” And right away he recited several times the classic’s opening: “Great and originating, penetrating, advantageous, correct and firm.”¹

When Xiangzi heard Tuizhi reciting from The Book of Changes, he secretly laughed and said, “As beings of pure yin, ghosts are destroyed by the two lines in The Book of Changes, ‘The union of seed and power produces all things / The escape of the soul brings about change.’² Hence they fear The Book of Changes. I, however, am a being of pure yang. It was The Book of Changes that awakened me to the Great Way of the Agreement of the Three. Why should I fear this formula? But I’ll let him recite it and won’t reveal my secrets prematurely.”

Tuizhi recited these syllables many times, until he realized that the peasant was standing before him upright and unmoved. He thought to himself, “It is by no means certain that the woodcutter and fisherman were ghosts, but this peasant definitely is a human being.” Then he stepped forward, greeted him, and said, “May I ask you, Brother, how far it is from here to Chaozhou?”

The peasant answered,

“A farmer only knows to plough his fields,

And doesn’t understand the high mountains and manifold peaks.

He doesn’t know, either, how many trees and creeks there are on these peaks,

Or how many cypresses and pines grow at the foot of these ranges,

Or where waterfalls and springs come from and where they go,

Or what drums and what bells Buddhist and Daoist clerics strike.

Although you wear embroidered clothes and sit on a fine horse,

Although you drink a thousand cupfuls of wine from jade goblets,

Although your wealth far exceeds the Northern Dipper,

Although you are so full of yourself,

When all is said and done, you are no match for a farmer.”

Having spoken these words, without looking further at Tuizhi, the farmer left. Tuizhi wanted to run after him and hold him back, but because he feared that the fellow was simply ignorant and would just grumble away and waste their time, he could not make up his mind whether to go after him.

“We should resume our journey here and now,” Zhang Qian said. “What are we waiting for?”

“I think we should inquire further with the peasant and get some information from him,” Tuizhi said.

“If you want to know the road down the mountain, you must ask passing travelers, not a peasant who plants his fields in the mountains and probably never travels any distance to other places,” Li Wan said. “Why take the trouble to ask him anything?”

Nagged by Zhang Qian and Li Wan, Tuizhi had no choice but to give his horse the whip and move on, but from his eyes tears streamed down. Truly, the limitless pain of the heart is contained in two welling tears.

They had traveled more than ten miles, hoping to find an inn where they could rest, when suddenly ahead of them two fierce tigers jumped out from among the trees, truly frightening to behold.

In the deep mountains, hidden in the mist, the tiger’s fur rivals in elegance that of the panther. Amidst a rising storm, its teeth and claws compete in sharpness with those of the dark lion. Only on high cliffs will it roar, with proud head and waving tail shaking mountains and rivers. On precipices it faces the wind fearlessly, with angry eyes and frowning brows terrifying woodcutters and shepherds. Even if you are Bian Zhuang come back into the world, it is hard to act the hero when you are hungry and cold. Suppose you are Feng Fu born again, how can you apply your fists and cudgel when you are freezing and starved?³ Tuizhi meeting a tiger today is like having a leaking roof and then suffering several nights of constant rain, or running into a head wind while traveling by boat. If his soul does not go straight to King Yama’s palace, it surely is about to fly away into the air.

Zhang Qian turned around and came running back, shouting, “Master! Ahead two fierce tigers are rushing toward us!”

When Tuizhi heard this, he tumbled from his horse and collapsed in a swoon onto the ground, with hardly a breath left in him. The two tigers came rushing on, seized Zhang Qian and Li Wan in their mouths, and carried them off, so that Tuizhi alone remained behind. Truly, life is transitory, like the moon atop a mountain at the fifth watch, or like a lamp whose oil is used up at the third watch.

Let’s digress here to say that after Xiangzi had made the mountain god transform himself into fierce tigers come to carry Zhang Qian and Li Wan off and scare Tuizhi into an unconscious state, Lan Caihe said, “Immortal Brother, your uncle is in a deep coma. Quickly go wake him up, otherwise his perfected nature might be thrown into confusion.”

“Immortal Brother, my uncle is of no mind to die, but is still intent on going to Chaozhou and taking up his official duties,” Xiangzi said. “I’ll create a gust of cold wind to wake him up, and materialize a thatched hut farther down the road. In the hut I’ll place the buns and the fine wine that he once gave me, the ones I put in my flower basket. With these he can fill his stomach and warm himself against the cold. The next day I’ll collect his horse’s soul so that it will die and he will lose his means of transportation. And then I will come to convert him.”

“Good,” said Lan Caihe.

And indeed, Tuizhi lay in a deep coma for a long time, but then a gust of cold wind made him shiver all over so that he revived and struggled to his feet. He looked around and saw that Zhang Qian and Li Wan were gone and only the horse was left. It stood there exposed to the wind, yet not moving. Two tears ran down Tuizhi’s face as he sighed, “I, Han Yu, was loyal and filial to the utmost and acted for the nation and the people. My only wish was that my name would be displayed in the historical records and my reputation would live on after my death. Who could have known that my memorial on the Buddha bone would destroy my household and separate me from my wife? Just a while ago there were still three of us, but now two of them are buried in the bellies of fierce tigers and I alone am left. If I meet another tiger, I will be hard pressed to escape with my life. Well, I guess what I brought upon myself, I should suffer myself. If my life is to end in this place, I might as well find a way to put an early end to it. If someone takes pity on a masterless orphaned soul and digs a hole to bury me in, then at least my body will be in one piece, which is better than being ripped to pieces by a tiger.”

Having considered his options, Tuizhi proceeded to a dense cluster of trees, took off his girdle, and tried to hang himself. However, he was not destined to die by hanging. Whenever he fastened the girdle, it slipped off again. Tuizhi then picked a robust tree branch and said, “On that forked branch I can hang it securely.” Yet when he hung up the girdle, even that branch broke off.

Tuizhi said, “It appears that I am not to die by the rope, but to perish by the sword. It was for this reason that the emperor wanted to have me beheaded at the execution grounds. Because Scholar Lin and the other officials made such an effort to come to my rescue, I was banished to Chaozhou, but now it seems that I cannot avoid going down that path after all.”

Quickly he untied the sword from his luggage, but when he wanted to cut his own throat, the blade was stuck in its sheath as if it had taken root there. He pulled as hard as he could, but he couldn’t pull it out.

Distressed, Han Yu called out, “Heaven! I, Han Yu, have come to this place where I can’t find life when I seek it, and can’t obtain death when I want it. It is no use leaving me behind all alone.”

The echo of his voice was still reverberating among the mountains when he heard in the distance the sound of a fisher drum. “Good! Good!” Tuizhi said. “My nephew Xiangzi has come to save me.” But when he lifted his head to look all around, he saw only snowflakes whirling everywhere like butterfly wings and goose down, blown about by a strong wind. Where was his nephew Xiangzi? And where the fisher drum and the clappers?

Tuizhi wanted to run, yet there was no road; he looked around, yet there was no one in sight. Quickly untying its tether, he said, “Horse, I have ridden you all this time and we have never been separated for a single day. When I die, as I definitely will soon, don’t yearn for me. If you don’t want to die yourself, run straight back to Chang’an, lest you be mauled to death by a tiger.”

While he was speaking to the horse, two lines of tears streamed down his face, and he sobbed chokingly. Suddenly he heard the sound of the fisher drum again. After listening to it for a while, he said, “It must be my nephew Xiangzi who is beating that drum. Why do I just hear the sound, but not see his shape? Formerly he said he would come to the Blue Pass to rescue me—why then has he still not come, but let me suffer such loneliness and hardship?” Looking up to Heaven, he called for Xiangzi several times in a row, but there was no reply.

Anxious and at a loss what to do, he heard the fisher drum once more, and this time he saw a young Daoist braving the snow to make his way toward him. The youth’s hair was bound into double knots, and he wore a single-piece gown of dark cloth. In one hand he held the fisher drum, and on his shoulder he carried a flower basket. Not one of the big snowflakes stuck to his body, and he had the fresh appearance of an immortal, with red lips and white teeth. He was singing these Daoist songs, the first to the tune of “Mistletoe,” the second to that of “Goat on the Mountainside”:

“My home is in the wilderness of the deep mountains,

Where I have no neighbors in the east or west.

All I see are clear and secluded mountain streams,

The birds flying and singing,

The deer running.

By evening,

Signs of humans are few,

The birds have stopped singing,

And the air is cold and clear.

My companions are

The waning moon and the morning star sitting on the tree tops.

“Think back

To the time when you used to drive in a noble chariot.

Why have you come to this dangerous place, the Blue Pass?

Where is your heroism now?

You fear your horse may become exhausted and you yourself perish!

Trepidation fills your heart,

You are separated from your wife,

And this snow is piling up,

Piling up in layers of silver.

Turning to look back toward your home district, the road is lost.

Alas!

In this predicament

Who will bear the burden of loneliness and anxiety in your stead?

Even if you were to change your mind soon, it would be too late.”

When Tuizhi saw the youth’s graceful bearing and refined appearance, and heard his fervent words and urging tone, he prostrated himself before him and said, “Divine immortal, save me!”

The Daoist quickly caught hold of Tuizhi and said, “What kind of man are you? What is your business in coming to this forsaken place?”

“I am the Minister of Rites Han Yu,” Tuizhi said.

“If you are a high minister at court, you should be preceded by banners and flags and surrounded by heralds and attendants,” the Daoist said. “On such a wintry day, why aren’t you in the red towers and warm pavilions roasting lambs and heating wine, sipping liquor and humming songs to give expression to your exuberant spirit? Why do you instead walk all alone with just one horse on this road?”

“I, Han Yu, once knew how to enjoy myself. It is because I refused to follow my nephew Xiangzi’s admonitions to cultivate myself that I have come to suffer such hardship in this place. I can’t find a store or inn to stay in, and have lost my servants, Zhang Qian and Li Wan. I am left all alone, beset by difficulties left and right. Therefore I sought a way to end my life. Fortunately I met you, Immortal Brother. May I ask you, how far is it from here to Chaozhou?”

Pointing with his hand, the youth said, “Ahead there is the Fortress of Blue Pass.”

As Tuizhi lifted his head to look, the youth vanished into thin air. Tuizhi thought to himself, “I am probably not destined to die here, and therefore Heaven has sent down this young Daoist to show me the way. I shall press on a few more steps, find an inn to stay at, and then make further decisions.”

However, the snowfall got even worse. Shivering with cold all over, the horse fell to the ground and would not get up. Tuizhi said, “I am suffering this ordeal because of my offense against the court. But, horse! what guilt do you have that you should suffer hunger and cold in this place?” Slowly he helped the horse up, rearranged saddle and reins, and mounted to continue the journey. However, the horse was already too badly affected by the cold, and could hardly walk. As it stumbled with every step, Tuizhi almost fell off. By that time he had almost found his faith in Xiangzi as a divine immortal, and he had almost completely abandoned his ambition to be an official.

After less than half a mile, he saw a thatched hut by the side of the mountain and said to himself, “That hut is not a teahouse or tavern. It must be a place where an ascetic cultivates himself. I shall go there and seek shelter from my misfortunes.”

Quickly he led the horse to the door of the hut, only to find that it was shut tightly with no sign of human presence. Tuizhi said, “Strange. How come there is a house, but no one near it? Perhaps the owner is sleeping, or he is ill in his bed and cannot get up. Or he has gone out to beg and has not yet returned. Or he has gone to look for his teacher or visit a friend. Or he is taking a walk in the snow to seek poetic inspiration. Or he has been killed by a tiger or wolf. Or his soul has been confused by sprites.”

He went on, “Having said all this, although this is an uninhabited mountain area, there still ought to be a few Daoists to look after this house. It can’t be that there is no one in the house, can it?” But when Tuizhi tethered the horse and pushed the door open, there was no one inside.

The only things inside were a table and a chair. On the table stood a flower basket, filled with buns. Steam was rising from them as if they had only just tumbled from the steamer. Beside the basket there stood a gourd filled with hot wine. As Tuizhi was hungry and thirsty, he took a bun and began to eat it.

He had just taken the first bite when a thought suddenly struck him: “This bun looks just like the ones prepared at my birthday.” When he looked at it closely, he realized that these indeed were the buns prepared by his cook Zhao Xiaoyi, which he had given that day to the emaciated Daoist. “The Daoist used trickery to fill his flower basket with 356 buns. How did they get here? Why are they so hot? It’s really strange!”

Then Tuizhi said, “That Daoist said I would be snowed in at the Blue Pass and that was why he gathered 356 of my buns. Let me count the buns in this basket. If there are 356, I won’t have anything more to say. If there are more or less than this number, then these buns were materialized by some other ascetic, sent by Heaven to place them in this house so that I may assuage my hunger and thirst.”

Immediately Tuizhi began taking the buns out of the basket one by one. There were exactly 356 of them, not one less and not one more. Tuizhi sighed and said, “I have eyes, yet did not recognize a worthy man. That Daoist truly was a divine immortal and truly had the powers of one. I shall quickly eat some buns to still my hunger, and drink some wine to quench my thirst.”

When he had eaten a bun and drunk a mouthful of wine, Tuizhi felt refreshed in spirit, and his body felt relaxed and warm. He thought to himself, “The horse shared my suffering, but I have no hay for it to eat. I shall feed it some buns.” However, the horse hung its head, tears filling its eyes, and would not eat anything.

When Tuizhi saw it in this state, he said in his anguish, “Zhang Qian and Li Wan were dragged off by tigers and I only have this horse left as a companion. If anything were to happen to it, what should I do?” As he was stroking the horse and sighing, the sky darkened and dusk fell. He had no choice but to sit inside the hut for the night.

Even though I know that he is not my companion,

In an emergency we still have to follow each other.

Please listen to the next chapter.