5 BY CUTTING DOWN THE HIBISCUS, MME. DOU CRITICIZES LUYING

While white hair grows sadly at both temples,

The blue hills and green waters remain unchanged.

What difference is there between human life and the dream of Southern Bough?¹

You snap your fingers and eighteen years have gone by!

Yet after eighteen years this scenery is still fresh,

Separated from the dusty world by sandalwood and purple bamboo.

Soon the Dragon’s Daughter will offer up her pearl, and

A crane mount will come circling down from the Nine Heavens.

Mme. Dou thought to herself, “When my brother-in-law was still alive, he prayed to Heaven and Earth mornings and evenings. In return he received Xiangzi, but after his birth the baby cried all day long, exhausting his mind and spirit. Fortunately, we were able to raise him, and married him to Luying, the daughter of Scholar Lin. The wedding took place three years ago already, yet still there are no children. It certainly looks as if the Han family line is about to end. I have often heard that when the rhinoceros gazes at the moon, its horn produces auspicious signs; and that when an oyster contains a pearl, it will frolic in the morning sun.² Yet Luying shows no sign of becoming pregnant—what is to be done about that?”

Then she had an idea. She ordered her servant Plum Fragrance to fetch Luying, and, when she arrived, asked her, “What kind of tree is the one at the foot of the stairs?”

“Mother-in-law, it is a hibiscus,” Luying said.

Mme. Dou said, “I will order Plum Fragrance to get a blade and cut it down.”

“Mother-in-law, don’t cut it down!” Luying said. “Leave it there so I may look at it mornings and evenings.”

“I have only ever seen it blossom, but it never produces any seeds,” Mme. Dou said. “What use is it to me?”

“Flowers and humans are alike, and human life is like a flower,” Luying said. “Male flowers do not produce seeds, and male bamboo does not produce shoots.”

“Daughter-in-law, listen to what I say to you:

“If I plant a hibiscus against a rock,

Making sure its roots take firm hold in the soil,

But then it only has pretty blossoms but no seeds,

I have wasted my effort.”

Luying said,

“You may have a fertile field,

But if the lazy bull won’t plough it at night

And you don’t sow the seeds in spring—

Then where would the sprouts come from?”

“So that’s how it is!” Mme. Dou said. “Plum Fragrance, quickly fetch Xiangzi. I have something to ask him.”

“The master has locked Xiangzi up in the study, and nobody dares let him out,” Plum Fragrance reported. So Mme. Dou handed Plum Fragrance the key and told her again to fetch Xiangzi.

When Plum Fragrance opened the door, Xiangzi asked, “What does my aunt want from me?”

“She was in the hall talking with Luying, I don’t know about what. She sent me to bring you so that she may question you,” Plum Fragrance replied.

So Xiangzi had to go and see his aunt, who said to him, “Nephew, I gave you Luying as a wife, hoping that she would produce sons and daughters to continue the family line. Three years have passed already, but no child has been born. This has caused me considerable concern. Just now when I asked your wife about it, she said that you have never come close to each other. Why is that?”

Xiangzi answered, “I will explain it to you with a poem:

“Taking care of essence and pneuma, I nourish my primordial spirit.

Nourishing essence and spirit, I nourish my own body.

In the cauldron I refine the great elixir drug;

I won’t produce descendants in the world of humans.”

When Mme. Dou heard these words, she cried and said, “My son, you are so wrong! From ancient times, people have always hoped for their sons and daughters to have families of their own. You and your wife are young. Instead of speaking such heartless and immoral words, why don’t you give some thought to continuing the family line? Though your parents are dead at the Yellow Springs, they won’t be able to close their eyes in peace.”

Xiangzi said, “The Buddha said that if a man is tied to wife and children, though he may live in a house made of seven kinds of jewels, his suffering is worse than in a prison. In a prison at least one still has leisure, but with wife and children one has no hope for peace of mind. To love with emotional desire casts a man in the mire, there to drown himself. If a man can get through this pass, he will leave the world of dust. This is why Luying and I treat each other respectfully, like guests. I hope you will forgive me.”

“This is unbearable! How can he speak like this?” Luying cried, and swiftly ran to her room. Mme. Dou held Xiangzi back and admonished him over and over again.

“Aunt, don’t you know that life and death are an important matter, not to be trifled with?” Xiangzi said. “The ancients put it very well:

“Three fish with one head,

Swimming in the water with a shared heart and gall.

The dull do not understand the fishes’ meaning—

Without predestination no union would be made.”

Just as Mme. Dou and Xiangzi were arguing, Tuizhi returned from court. On seeing them, he inquired, “What are you talking about, my wife?”

“I am admonishing Xiangzi to study,” Mme. Dou replied.

“I locked Xiangzi up in the study,” Tuizhi pursued. “Who let him out?”

“I took the key and let him out,” said Mme. Dou.

“Xiangzi, come here and let me ask you: which books have you studied and what have you done the last few days?” Tuizhi said.

“Confucius’s disciple Zhongyou said, ‘The prefecture of Bi has people in it and has the altars to the soil and grain in it. Why is it that only by reading books one can be considered learned?’”³ Xiangzi quoted.

Tuizhi struck Xiangzi a blow with his bamboo cane. “You fool, do you also know that Confucius replied to Zhongyou, ‘It is for this reason that I hate those people with a glib tongue’?”⁴

“Confucius inquired after the rites with Lao Dan, who is the founding father of the immortals and the leader of the Daoists. Didn’t Confucius once say that one should ‘withstand others by means of smart speech’?⁵ Why then do you call me ‘glib’?” Xiangzi said.

“To know the male but keep to the female, to know the white but keep to the black—those are the teachings of Lao Dan. When did Lao Dan’s writings ever serve to conceal faults and gloss over wrongdoings? If you want to study the Dao and cultivate perfection, you must study and understand principles. Why do you throw away gold to pick up a moldy brick? I’ll just beat you to death, you useless beast, and be done with you!” He raised the stick and gave Xiangzi a savage thrashing.

Xiangzi cried out, “Aunt, save me! Uncle is beating me too hard!”

Mme. Dou knelt down and admonished her husband, “When your brother and his wife were close to their deaths, they repeatedly ordered you to take loving care of Xiangzi. When today you beat him like this, those who understand will say that you’re teaching an unfilial son a lesson, but those who don’t understand will say that you’re violating the orders given by your late brother and his wife, and that you are not taking proper care of Xiangzi. I hope that you will forgive him this time.”

“Everyone who raises a son hopes that he will grow up to achieve success in the examinations and bring honor to the family,” Tuizhi said. “Our family has only this unfilial child who refuses to study and strive for advancement. Instead he studies the calling of those vagrant beggars, wasting the precious time of his youth. Alas that I am already old. Who is to blame for this? A proverb says, ‘If mulberry branches grow in a bushy cluster when small, they will remain entangled and crooked later.’ How can you tell me not to beat this beast?”

“The Han family has only this one descendant,” Mme. Dou told him. “If there are to be regrets, then regret that you made the mistake of employing the two Daoists who led him astray.”

“When I hired the Daoists, my hope was that he might practice the civil and study the military arts. He was to become a well-rounded man in both spheres, so that he could exert himself for the court and for the Han family. Who could have known that the Daoists would beguile him into leaving the family, leading him astray for the rest of his life? Now let’s talk no more about it. The only thing to do is to subject him to intensive instruction. Then he will come to change his mind quite by himself,” Tuizhi said.

“Please spare yourself the trouble,” Mme. Dou said. “Leave it to me to urge him to study properly.” Finally, Tuizhi let go of Xiangzi.

Xiangzi returned to the study, depressed and unhappy. He sat down to adjust his spirit and circulate his pneuma. Two servants came forward and said, “Don’t fret. We’ll find a way to lift your spirits, all right?”

“What is there in the world that could lift my spirits?” Xiangzi asked.

“Playing cards and games of chance should work,” they replied. “Chess. Throwing dice. Football.”

Xiangzi said, “For all these types of gambling one needs to dissipate one’s essence and spirit, and waste one’s time. I do not like to engage in them.”

“Then wine might cheer you up,” one servant proposed.

“If wine is all right, let’s fetch some right away and you can drink a few bowls to chase those worries away,” agreed the other.

“What help would wine be?” Xiangzi said.

“Wine was invented by Yi Di,” the servant said. “Good wine is sweet and fragrant, clear and pure. People call it the ‘Administrator of Qing Province.’ Bad wine is turbid and muddy, weak and sour, and is named the ‘Inspector-General above the diaphragm.’⁶ In the springtime there are green leaves and red blossoms to find pleasure in. In the summer you’ll find cool arbors and pavilions by the water where you can escape the heat and enjoy the shade. The autumn brings chrysanthemum blossoms and cassia fragrance, which you can smell as you crumple the flowers in your hands. In the winter there are the days of clearing skies deep in the mountains, where you can relax in idleness and pleasure. Taking advantage of the fresh and beautiful scenery of the four seasons, you take along a wine jug and raise your cup. If you invite two or three friends and pleasant female company, then amid the toasting and convivial merriment all worries are soon lost and all sorrow is thrown off. That is what is meant by this poem:

“To dispel all the worries of your life, there is only wine.

To break the ten thousand sorrows, nothing surpasses wine.

Black lines like the contours of distant mountains let me dip into the autumn waters,

If I don’t drink from them, bystanders will laugh at me.”⁷

“Wine can confuse one’s perfection and throw one’s nature into disorder,” Xiangzi retorted. “It attracts disasters and calamities. That’s why the Great Yu disliked wine and rejected Yi Di. Only poets, and dissolute fellows who willfully forget common decency, use wine as a broom to sweep away sorrow and as a hook to fish for poetry. I don’t like to drink it.”

One of the servants said, “In the sky there is a Wine Star, on earth there is a Wine Spring. Among the sages and worthies there is the ‘virtue of wine.’ Yao and Shun could drink a thousand cups, Confucius a hundred goblets. Zilu drank in small sips, but he could still drain ten tankards.⁸ Li Bai attained the Dao by hankering for the cup. Liu Ling became an immortal through his love of drink. From ancient times to the present, not only sages, worthies, and gentlemen wouldn’t let go of wine, but even the divine immortal Lü from Heaven on high got drunk three times in Yueyang without anyone recognizing him. There’s never been one who abstained from drink—why then do you say that it is so bad?”

“How do you come to realize that wine is not good?” Xiangzi answered. “There is an old poem that makes the point. I’ll recite it to you:

“In his day Yi Di created the roots of calamity—

Unbearable how he confused perfection and disordered human nature.

When drunk, a man foolhardily embraces the universe,

While in fact bringing upon himself calamities and disasters.”

“If wine won’t lift your spirits,” one of the servants said, “let’s take you to the pleasure quarters, and invite along a few friends who understand your heart and want to help with your troubles. You’ll have delicacies prepared, and engage in ribald conversation. You’ll softly chant poetry while sipping wine and dallying with courtesans. By late morning, simurgh and phoenix will still be tumbling about in bed. Like the butterfly in love and the bee wild with lust, you’ll feel the joy of sexual union penetrate your heart and bones. This is sure to lift your spirits!”

“Since you mention lust,” Xiangzi commented, “this is another trap for men to fall into. How could it lift anyone’s spirits? An ancient poem is to the point:

“At sixteen a beautiful maid’s body is white and soft as butter,

But in her loins she carries a sword to decapitate an ignorant man.

Though you don’t see a head roll,

Secretly she sucks your marrow dry.”⁹

“The ancients have another poem, which speaks especially of the ills of wine, lust, wealth, and temper. I’ll recite it to you:

“Wine, lust, wealth, and temper are four high walls—

How many lost souls are imprisoned within them?

If only a mortal can jump over them and escape—

That is the divine immortals’ recipe for eternal youth.”

The servant said, “The way you talk, it would seem that people all pass their days in the city of sorrow. How could they be happy for even a day?”

“Humans indeed pass their days in the city of sorrow,” Xiangzi said. “There is a song to the tune ‘Goat on the Mountainside’ to illustrate it. Please listen:

“In my view it is in vain that people busy themselves all their life.

What will it help you to amass the family’s fortune?

See, as you age, your looks fade away gradually.

Your sons and daughters may be dear to your heart,

But when one day death arrives,

Who will take your place on the wheel of rebirth?

Alas! How much longer will you wait before you turn back?

Alas! Where will the falling leaf finally end up?”

“You are still young,” the servant said. “Where did you learn to talk so much? You should not be ungrateful for your uncle and aunt’s kindness in raising you.”

“Stop worrying and go to sleep; don’t keep gabbling on,” Xiangzi retorted.

The servants obeyed and withdrew, but held a secret discussion.

“The master has ordered us to guard Xiangzi carefully. We must take care not to make a mistake.”

“Let’s pretend to be asleep, and listen outside his door to what he is saying. If he comes out, we’ll grab him, and report to the master.”

“You’re right. Let’s be careful.”

Inside the room Xiangzi thought to himself, “My uncle is so strict and fails to understand how important cultivation is to me. As I reckon it, out of the thirty-six moves, moving on is the best. If I don’t make a run for it now, when will I have another chance?”

When the second watch struck, he took off his clothes, bound his hair in a yin-yang pattern, and changed into a cotton gown. Softly he walked to the door of Mme. Dou’s room, knocked his head and said, “From an early age, I, Han Xiang, have received your favor. You brought me up, yet I never repaid you. Today I am unfilial and desert you. When will we meet again?”

Then he went to Luying’s door and said, “Although we have been married for three years, all this time we have shared the same bed, but not the same pillow; the same mat, but not the same blanket. We were married in name only, and in this I have done you a great wrong. This morning I take my leave from you to cultivate myself. You must not be sad at our separation.”

Having said his good-byes, Xiangzi heard the drum on the look-out tower strike the third watch. He wanted to leave by the front gate, but found it locked. So he had to climb over the wall, but not before leaving the following poem:

Unwilling to study, afraid to become an official,

Though the sun stands high I am still asleep, cradling my zither.

This morning I escape the ranks of confused souls,

And place my trust in that other world inside the immortal’s pot.

When at daybreak the two servants could not find Xiangzi, they clutched their robes and pretended to cry.

Tuizhi came and asked them, “Why are you two crying? Where is Xiangzi?”

One of the servants called out, “Master, I hardly know how to say it—it’s so strange! A toad has grown wings! Yesterday he was locked securely in the room, but at some point he must have quietly flown off.”

“It’s extraordinary!” the other chimed in. “A headcloth can walk! Yesterday evening it hung properly on the wall, and this morning the only thing that remains on my head is a patch of hair.”

“You two dogs, what were my orders to you?” Tuizhi said. “You let Xiangzi get away, and now you try to shirk responsibility? You think you’ll get a reward from those Daoist crooks—that’s why you set him free to follow them. I’ll hand you over to the magistrate to be questioned on Xiangzi’s whereabouts.”

“Please don’t be angry any more, Master,” the two replied. “Now that Xiangzi has run away, we will take his place.”

“How could you take his place?” Tuizhi said.

“You don’t have a son, and the two of us are almost like adopted sons to you. If you looked at us with different eyes and raised our status, we’d be the same as Xiangzi.”

“This dog has gone crazy!” Tuizhi said.

“I am not crazy,” the servant said. “You have not been successful in the union of the Young Boy and the Lovely Maid, and you couldn’t keep your only nephew—how can you be the head of the family?”

When Tuizhi heard these words he let go, wailing, “Xiangzi, you have forsaken your family! Where have you gone? I am fifty-four years old and without sons or daughters. Once King Yama summons me and ghost emissaries come to take me away, who will wear the hempen garb of mourning for me and sacrifice at my tomb? The pain is unbearable!”

A poem may illustrate his plight:

The hair at both temples resembles silver threads,

A half-withered tree fears to be swayed by the wind.

The family may have innumerable ounces of gold,

But without a son, all is in vain.

When Mme. Dou and Luying heard Tuizhi’s wails, they quickly came to see what was going on. When she saw Tuizhi lying on the floor, crying, Mme. Dou hurried to help him up and said, “What’s going on?”

“Xiangzi has left the family,” Tuizhi said.

“Is this true?” asked Mme. Dou.

“Aren’t these clothes his? He stripped them off, scaled the wall, and left.”

Crying, Luying said, “Although never close, he and I respected each other like guests, and there was never a bad word between us. A proverb says, ‘A woman without a husband is like a body without a soul.’ Now that he has left to cultivate himself, how can I still look people in the eye?”

“You will have to endure the disgrace, my daughter-in-law,” Mme. Dou said. Crying, Luying retreated to her chamber.

“My wife, it is obvious that our nephew has betrayed our kindness in raising him,” Tuizhi said. “It saddens my heart to look at his clothes and things. Let’s light a fire and burn them.”

“It would be a pity to burn them,” Mme. Dou said. “Let’s give them to the servants.”

So Tuizhi handed the things to Zhang Qian and Li Wan, and then sent them out to post handbills for Xiangzi everywhere, in all prefectures, subprefectures, counties, inside and outside the cities, at passes and fords, in streets and markets, in all kinds of places, even at mountain monasteries and other secluded locations. The announcement read as follows:

Vice Minister of Justice Han posts the following search notice: In the Han family of this prefecture (originally from Changli County in Yongping Prefecture), unfortunately, on this day in this month at the fifth watch the family’s main son Han Xiangzi climbed over the wall and ran away, looking for his Daoist masters. His hair is bound in a yin-yang pattern. He wears a dark brown patched robe. He beats a fisher drum, sings Daoist prayers, and wears tied hemp sandals. Whosoever detains him will receive a cash reward. Whosoever brings news of his whereabouts to my home will receive one hundred ounces of silver. The above notice be made known to everyone.

However, in spite of the wide distribution of this handbill, there was not a trace of Xiangzi, and Tuizhi was greatly saddened.

After Xiangzi had left the study and scaled the wall, he ran in the darkness to the city gate. The gate was still closed, and many traders and dealers were crowded in front of it, waiting for it to be opened. Some talked about their household affairs, others about official corruption. There were those who discussed business plans and those who debated the affairs of other families. Some were trading bawdy ballads, others hummed popular opera tunes to themselves. There was great confusion and noise, and everyone was in a bustle. Only Xiangzi calmed his mind, settled his nature, and sat on a rock without making a sound.

Among the crowd was a man who held a small lantern in his hand and walked back and forth. When he saw that Xiangzi made no sound and showed no emotions, he called out, “Master, since ancient times it has been said very well, ‘The ministers at court are in the audience waiting hall in the cold of the fifth watch and the iron-clad generals cross the passes at night, but the monks in their mountain monasteries have not yet risen when the sun stands high, reckoning that fame and profit are not equaled by leisure.’ For the little bit of profit our livelihood offers, the likes of us need to get up early in the morning and go to bed late. You ascetics, on the other hand, eat anywhere and dress however you like. As you don’t desire fame or profit and are not concerned with honor or shame, gain or loss, at such an hour you should be in your plum-blossom tent on your mat of soft grass, stretching out your legs and slumbering peacefully. Why do you bother getting up so early and waiting for the gate to be opened?”

Before Xiangzi could reply, someone in the crowd cut in, “Friend, how can you know what’s in the mind of this Daoist? He is a beggar who travels from place to place, speaking of true recipes and selling false medicines in the street, swindling people out of their money with a glib tongue. If you ask me, he’s dressed up this way because he is too timid to be a robber and too lazy to be a burglar. Friend, how can you compare the eminent monks in the mountains with him?”

Another man said, “Friends, your roads are different, but your home is the same. You seek to benefit yourselves, but surely this little master is no immortal either. If he gets up early and goes to sleep late, it’s because his own mind is full of desire to benefit himself. Why do you say he isn’t fit to be a robber or a burglar?”

“Maybe he’s a convict who has scaled the walls of his prison and escaped. He’s disguised himself like this, and is afraid to speak in case he gives himself away. That’s why he keeps his mouth shut tight,” someone else suggested.

“He’s so young,” another man said. “Probably he didn’t study hard, was beaten and scolded by his parents, and couldn’t bear it. Or perhaps he failed in an examination and couldn’t stand the shame. Or perhaps someone slept with his wife and he couldn’t stand the anger, and crept away in disguise, swallowing his humiliation.”

Another cut in, “Brothers, everyone has his own opinion. Why bother gossiping about others and worrying about other people’s troubles? The Thousand Character Essay says it well, ‘Don’t speak of the shortcomings of others and don’t presume upon your own superiority.’¹⁰ There’s also a verse that runs, ‘Everyone should sweep the snow in front of his own door and not concern himself with the frost on other families’ roofs.’ Once the gate is open, everyone will be rushing out gaily. Let’s not stay here and waste our breath with idle talk.”

“This brother is right!” the others said. Everyone clapped their hands, stomped their feet, and laughed. His eyes open and his mouth speechless, as if he were deaf and mute, Xiangzi did not dare reply.

They were still talking when a city official came and opened the gate. Everyone ran out, struggling to be the first. Only Xiangzi remained behind, thinking to himself, “Today I am like a big fish who has escaped from the net, like a bird in distress that has left its cage. Now is the time to leave!” And so he hurried forth, singing a Daoist song to the tune of “Cassia Fragrance”:

“Finally today,

I leave the city,

To visit the immortals

And become a better man.

Just look at you officials—

What are you scheming for?

I have left my relatives,

I have leaped out of the fiery pit.

I speak no more of wine, lust, wealth, and temper—

I have made a clean break with them.

Luxurious halls and fine houses I do not love,

What I love is to sleep in the shade of a pine.

“The sky is clear, the moon bright.

The white clouds play their tricks.

I have extracted myself from the waves of the karmic sea,

Paying no attention to the old and young in my family.

I have cut the ties to my family, I have cut the ties to my family!

I travel to the mountains to study the Dao,

Exerting myself every day.

If only I succeed in my efforts,

I shall fly up to the Nine Heavens.”

If you don’t know what happened after Xiangzi’s departure, then listen to the next chapter.