11 IN DISGUISE, XIANGZI TRANSMITS A MESSAGE

A poor man has a pearl in his clothes,

Round and bright and good in its original state.

Unable to look for it in himself,

He counts instead other people’s treasures.

Counting other people’s treasure

In the end is of no benefit,

But just lets you spend your efforts in vain.

Better to recognize your own pearl,

Which is worth a million pieces of gold.¹

For now let us speak no more of how Xiangzi went off, but instead of an old man named Tang who lived in Chang’an. He used to own quite a few strings of cash, but he used up all that money because he did not run a business, but just sat and ate until his coffers were empty. Now he had no choice but to do some sharp calculating and scrape together some funds with which to open a shop for unheated wine.

He had chosen this month and this day to hang up his sign and open his shop, when Xiangzi happened to come along, beating his fisher drum and clapper and singing,

“Sun and moon circle from east to west,

Alas, human life is only a hundred years short,

No match for me who has bound his hair into two knots,

Wears cotton clothes

And straw sandals.

I make my living with the Xu You gourd I carry on me.²

What better do you want

Than to travel on clouds to the ocean isles?

Who enjoys such peace and ease as I do?”

When Xiangzi reached the old man’s door and saw the red and gold decorations above the shop, he knew that it was a newly opened tavern. Thereupon he went a step closer and said, “I transform only those with the right destiny. Do not mistake a divine immortal for an ordinary person. Venerable benefactor, today you’ve opened a new tavern. Give me a pot of wine, and you will have good trade.”

When the old man saw Xiangzi approaching, he quickly turned away, pretending not to hear or see him. Seeing this, Xiangzi drew another step closer, beat his fisher drum, and sang,

“Grandpa, I see that your temples are as white as cotton.

Today you have opened a tavern,

Just to earn a bit of money.

In doing so, you’ll rob young and old of their peace.

If you give me a pot of fragrant liquor to drink,

I guarantee that the crowds will rush in to buy your wine.

If you agree to give joyfully,

I will be for you an immortal of prosperous trade,

And promise that you shall double your capital.”

Old Man Tang said, “I was just having a good day opening this shop, until you, Daoist, came along asking for free wine to drink. Do you think I am opening an alms-giving shop?”

“Capital will bear interest,” Xiangzi said. “How could an ascetic like me dare to ask for alms from an old man like you? But on this auspicious day, you ought to donate a pot of wine as a ‘payment to ensure prosperous trade.’”

“The likes of you have absolutely no sense of decency,” the old man said. “I have just opened this shop and haven’t yet earned a single piece of silver. How can you ask me to give you a pot of wine to help my trade?”

“When the spirits of wealth come, prosperous trade comes, and with it money comes,” Xiangzi replied. “Can you call yourself a human being if you are unwilling to pluck a single hair for the benefit of another?”³

“I painfully scraped together some money and opened this shop on a good day,” Tang said. “Selling a pot of wine is like selling my own blood, yet you, master, who are strong and well-built, want me to give you alms.”

“It’s not that I absolutely want you to give me alms. It’s just that, as you just newly opened up shop and your wine must surely be good, I ask you for some token that will guarantee a prosperous trade, that’s all.”

Unable to stand Xiangzi’s persistent pleading, the old man considered for a while, his head lowered. Then, with shaking hands, he filled a wine cup more than half full, handed it to Xiangzi, and said, “Master, I offer you this cup of wine. Please drink it quickly, so as not to attract other people to come and bother me.”

“If your wine really is good, this cup will make me drunk. If I am not drunk, it means that your wine is thin. Why worry about people coming to bother you?” Xiangzi said.

“I’m giving you free wine to drink, and still you’re taunting me?” said Old Man Tang. “No wonder people like you have left the family. Get out, now!”

Xiangzi clapped his hands, laughed loudly, and sang,

“Alas, the human mind knows no satisfaction.

Morning and evening,

One’s brow is always knit in worry.

How can a common man recognize an immortal from Great Veil Heaven?

He just offends him with foolish talk.

I laugh at one like you who in his dotage still has not cultivated himself.

Opening a wine shop is futile labor.

The human mind wants satisfaction, but when will it ever be satisfied?”

Having finished his song, Xiangzi left.

The old man said, “Look at you! You have no understanding of our times whatsoever. I’ve just opened my shop and you come to beg for alms. I quickly give you a cup of wine, and you’re still not satisfied. Instead you say that I treated you with disrespect.”

“Old man, stop grumbling,” the onlookers said. “That Daoist is a bad one. Your generosity is wasted on him.”

Old Man Tang said, “Gentlemen, please take a seat. I am now seventy-three years old, and I have seen many of this kind of Daoist. Why should I regard this one as unusual? For example, across from my door is the mansion of the vice minister Han. They had a son who was properly studying at home when suddenly two Daoists turned up, claiming to be divine immortals who had come from the Zhongnan Mountains. They lured the young gentleman away, and now many years have passed and he still hasn’t been found. Master Han and his wife were distraught with worry. They had people arrested and questioned all the time, but they never found a trace of the boy. If I hadn’t put my foot down today, I too would have been swindled rotten by this Daoist.”

The people said, “That may be so, but with only a cup of wine at stake, how could he have cheated you?” And so they kept talking back and forth.

Xiangzi paid no attention to them, but went straight to Tuizhi’s door. Just at that time his aunt, Mme. Dou, was dozing in her room. When Xiangzi saw with his eyes of wisdom that she had not yet woken up, he sent a sleep spirit to give her a dream. After awakening she would send someone to look for him, and he would use the opportunity to go and instruct her.

Mme. Dou dreamt that she saw Xiangzi standing before her and calling to her. She awoke startled and felt very unhappy. She called Luying to discuss with her whether she should send out someone to look for Xiangzi.

“It is your wishful thinking that caused this dream. Where would you have them search?” Luying said.

Mme. Dou called Han Qing and said to him, “My son, your elder brother Xiangzi just called to me, but then was gone again. Quickly, go look for him and bring him to see me.”

“My elder brother left the family many years ago. Do you know where he is that you ask me to find him?” Han Qing replied.

As they were talking, Xiangzi was sitting in the street and beating his fisher drum and clapper. Mme. Dou told Han Qing, “With the sound of a fisher drum, how can you say there is no place to look for your elder brother?”

“It is a young Daoist sitting on the tether stone outside our gate,” Han Qing said. “He’s beating a fisher drum and singing Daoist songs. A big crowd is listening to him. How could he be my elder brother?”

“Go call him in,” Mme. Dou instructed him. “Let me question him. He might have news of your elder brother.”

Han Qing quickly went outside. He saw a great number of people crowded together, stretching their necks, tilting their heads, and standing on tiptoe, even leaning on each other to listen. He said, “Don’t you have better things to do, and work to look after instead of hanging about and listening to Daoist songs? This fellow passes his days singing songs and begging for alms. Could it be that that you too can get by on Daoist songs?”

At this, the crowd murmured their agreement and scattered in all directions. Only Xiangzi remained behind, sitting on the stone. Han Qing approached him and called, “Young Daoist, my mother wants you to come inside so she can talk to you.”

Xiangzi just sat there and did not answer him. Han Qing scolded him, “You’re damned discourteous, you blasted Daoist! I am the son of the vice minister Han. I spoke with good intentions. How dare you sit there boldly and not get up?”

Xiangzi thought to himself, “When I was studying in the Fuyang Hall and my uncle saw me carrying my book bag all by myself, he was afraid that people might laugh. So he requested and obtained a son of the Zhang family, Zhang Qing, changed his name to Han Qing, and had him study with me. After I left the family, my uncle and aunt, having no son of their own, must have formally adopted him. That’s why he calls himself the young gentleman Han. Ridiculous! When he calls me again, I’ll throw some mud in his face. Let’s see what he says then.”

Just then Han Qing piped up again in that fake sophisticated accent of his, “Damned hateful Daoist. If you won’t get up, I’ll call my servants to beat you up, you dog.”

“I am an ascetic,” Xiangzi said. “I haven’t begged for alms at your door. I haven’t accosted you in the street. How can you scold me, and even beat me, for no good reason at all?” He took some mud and flung it into Han Qing’s face.

Boiling with anger, Han Qing ran inside and called his servants to go and give Xiangzi a beating. When Mme. Dou saw him running around, beside himself, she stopped him and said, “I sent you to call in that Daoist. Why are you making that face?”

Han Qing had no choice but to stop and reply, “I went to call in that damned criminal, but he wouldn’t get up, and even threw mud at me. Now I’m having him brought in, strung up, and given a sound beating. Only then will my anger be assuaged.”

“Surely it was because you browbeat him, relying on the power of your family, that he dared throw mud at you,” Mme. Dou said. “Go inside and stop making such a fuss, or you will incur your father’s displeasure.”

Han Qing had to obey and went inside. Mme. Dou then called Zhang Qian and Li Wan and said, “That Daoist playing the fisher drum outside the gate—ask him politely to come and see me. Don’t shout at him or abuse him.”

Zhang Qian went and called to Xiangzi, “Little master, my lady asks you to come in and sing a Daoist song to dissipate her sadness. Watch yourself when you enter her presence. Don’t be impudent or rude.”

Thereupon Xiangzi followed him inside, met Mme. Dou, and said, “My lady, I knock my head in greeting.”

“Boy, how many years ago did you leave the family?” Mme. Dou asked. “How old are you now?”

“I left the family when I was sixteen years old and have since gone through several summers and winters, but I have forgotten how many,” Xiangzi answered.

“Ascetics don’t have as much money in their purses as they had in worldly life, nor do they have as much rice in their jars as before,” Mme. Dou said. “They have to go around begging—what’s the good of it? At so young an age you abandoned father and mother, wife and children to pursue such a calling!”

“You don’t understand,” Xiangzi said. “I have a poem I would like you to listen to:

“One bowl of food can feed a thousand families,

All by myself I can travel ten thousand miles.

It is to seek escape from the road of life and death

That I pass the seasons in begging.”

Mme. Dou said, “You speak of food for a thousand families, yet not all food is the same. There is rice and wheat, rotten food, damp food, dried-up food. What’s the good of eating that? You are all alone at your young age. You don’t live in a temple or monastery, but drift around like a floating cloud, like a lonely crane. Sometimes you eat, sometimes you go hungry—how can that be a happy way to pass your days? Think back to the time when you first had the idea of abandoning your relatives and leaving the family—you acted just like my Xiangzi. I am afraid today your regrets would come too late.”

“I have no regrets. I have only left my mountain temporarily and come here to deliver the parents who raised me,” Xiangzi said.

“From which mountain do you come?”

“I come from the Zhongnan Mountains.”

“How many Zhongnan Mountains are there in the world?” Mme. Dou asked Zhang Qian.

“In all the fifteen circuits and all the 358 prefectures, there is only one Zhongnan mountain range,” Zhang Qian answered.

Then Mme. Dou asked Xiangzi, “How far is that mountain from here?”

“It is 108,785 miles by road, plus another three thousand miles by waterway.”

“How long did you travel to get here?” Mme. Dou asked.

“I am not deceiving you when I say that this morning at the sixth watch I was still on the mountain taking leave of my masters. By the noon hour I arrived in Chang’an.”

Mme. Dou laughed and said, “Did you travel on a cloud, then?”

“I can’t ride clouds. I just caught hold of some mist and thus was able to get here so quickly,” Xiangzi explained.

“If you can straddle clouds and mists and travel in the sky, you must surely be a divine immortal,” Mme. Dou said.

Xiangzi said, “The crown of my head is like Mount Tai, my feet tread the Great Earth, my hands carry the sun and the moon, I wear the blue sky at my waist as a cudgel. Walls do not obstruct me; nothing in this world affects me. Fearing that I might inadvertently lose my essence, I established a foundation and refined myself. My merit has already reached the number of three thousand. I subdue dragons and tigers, and do not yield to an immortal from Great Veil Heaven.”

“What is your name?” Mme. Dou said.

“My surname is Zhuo, my personal name Wei.”⁴

“As you have come from the Zhongnan Mountains, I’d like to ask you for some news.”

“What do you want to inquire about?”

“Several years ago two Daoists lured my nephew away to the Zhongnan Mountains,” Mme. Dou said. “To this day I’ve had no news of him, and don’t know if he’s still alive. I am kept in uncertainty from morning to evening. Therefore I’d like to ask you about him.”

“What is your nephew’s name?”

“His name is Han Xiang; his childhood name was Xiangzi.”

“On the mountain there are two Xiangzis, but I don’t know which of them is your nephew,” Xiangzi said.

“About how old are they?”

“Big Xiangzi is a man from the country of Aolai east of the ocean. He is a disciple of the long-browed great immortal Li and is about a thousand years old,” Xiangzi said.

“You must be mistaken. He surely is only a hundred,” Mme. Dou remarked.

“Little Xiangzi is a man from Changli County in Yongping Prefecture,” he went on. “He is the disciple of the masters Zhongli and Two Mouths on the mountain, and not yet thirty years of age.”

“Little Xiangzi must be my nephew. How sad! When will he come back?” Mme. Dou said.

“I heard him saying that he would never return,” Xiangzi replied.

“What are his clothes like? What does he get to eat?”

“Xiangzi imitates the Three August Emperors, wearing clothes made of grass and eating leaves. He passes his days in hardship, just like myself.”

“Xiangzi, you are suffering so much in these foreign parts,” Mme. Dou wept. “If only your family knew, your uncle, who wears the golden belt and purple robes of a high official, wouldn’t hesitate to have you brought home.”

“My lady, do not cry,” Xiangzi replied. “I almost forgot. When I got up this morning, Little Xiangzi begged me to take along a letter to his family.”

“Thanks be to Heaven and Earth, there is a letter! Then we can send people to look for him,” Mme. Dou said. “Where is my nephew’s letter, sir? Give it to me and I will reward you handsomely.”

Xiangzi pretended to feel around his waist and then said, “Oh, because I got up rather early this morning, I took a nap on that rock where the immortals gather and must have dropped Xiangzi’s letter. What am I to do?”

“My nephew went through endless difficulties to send a letter to his family and you lose it? You betrayed his trust!” Mme. Dou said.

Xiangzi thought for a while and then said, “Although the letter is lost, I was watching when Little Xiangzi wrote it. I can still remember it and will recite it to you.”

“What was written in the letter? Quick, I can’t wait to hear it.”

Xiangzi said, “He wrote a poem to the tune of ‘Painted Eyebrows.’ Please listen to my recital:

“A letter sealed by the son to be opened by the mother.

My brush not yet inked, but my tears already like pearls.

In my youth misfortune struck; my parents died.

Yet I was blessed to be taken in by my uncle and aunt,

Who raised me to the youthful age of sixteen.

Although I married Luying of the Lin family,

I abandoned her to leave home and cultivate myself.

More than six years have passed since then,

Which I spent refining cinnabar sand in the Azure Sky grotto palace.

I respectfully send this letter asking for reply.

My aunt, you must not worry,

You must not worry!”

When Mme. Dou heard these words, she wailed and cried loudly. Truly,

Among all the sad things in the world,

Nothing is sadder than to be separated in life or by death.

Today as she suddenly heard Xiangzi’s message,

The matron cried more sorrowfully than ever.

When Xiangzi saw Mme. Dou wailing and crying, he struck up his fisher drum and clapper, and sang a song to the tune “Shoals amid the Waves”:

“When I first left home,

I was full of anxiety.

I abandoned my wife’s love and cast away my parents.

Spurning even ten thousand ounces of gold,

I left to hide from Death.”

Mme. Dou said, “I can see that you, too, have not a piece of good clothing on you. It is very sad. There really is no need to leave the family.”

Xiangzi sang again,

“I am dressed in tattered clothes,

Patched in a thousand and stitched in a hundred places.

A begging bowl in hand, I have come to your door,

Asking you to be compassionate towards me

And give me some vegetarian food, give me some vegetarian food.

The Caoxi River flows vastly, right up into the Hall of Light.

After ten days, the embryo body gives off a fragrance.

When there is a body outside the body, the perfected being manifests itself.

What Death do you fear, what Death do you fear?”

When Mme. Dou heard this, she laughed and said, “A Daoist like this is in such dire straits he must pass his days begging for food, but still he boasts and brags of his abilities. Where there is life, there is always death. Even the Buddha did not avoid nirvana, even the Lord Lao could not forgo release from the corpse. Why do you hide from Death?”

“Fortunately I was successful in this endeavor,” Xiangzi said.

“Confucius left behind the virtues of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness. Lord Lao left behind the Five Phases. The Buddha left behind the ideas of birth, old age, illness, death, and suffering. Please sing me a song about the five Buddhist concepts,” Mme. Dou said.

Xiangzi lightly struck the fisher drum and sang to the tune “Shoals amid the Waves,”

“To be born and leave the mother’s womb

Is as difficult as blossoms opening on an iron tree.

Embracing me, my mother would suffer dampness to keep me dry.

Without the protection of deities and Heaven,

How could I have become a child?”

“Once people are born, what happens when old age comes?” Mme. Dou asked.

Xiangzi sang,

“White hair hastens to the temples,

Gradually one weakens.

The waist is bent, the back stooped; walking becomes difficult.

The ears are deaf and do not hear the words of others;

The eyes fear the blowing of the wind.”

Mme. Dou asked, “What happens when you fall ill in old age?”

Xiangzi sang,

“When you fall ill, you lie on your inlaid bedstead,

Depressed by the pain.

Wife and children are all very worried.

Day and night you don’t sleep, but only keep screaming in pain,

And offer worship to the God of Medicine.”

Mme. Dou asked, “What happens when you die?”

Xiangzi sang,

“When a man dies he is all alone;

Husband and wife are separated.

His head to the south, his feet to the north, his hands east and west.

His ten thousand ounces of gold he cannot take along,

As his body is buried in the soil and mud.”

Mme. Dou asked, “How about the suffering after death?”

Xiangzi sang,

“Having died, you meet King Yama.

In pain you move back and forth restlessly.

Two lines of pearly tears fall on your breast.

You implore King Yama, ‘Show me compassion,

And send me back home.’”

Also:

From a melon seed buried in the ground

Will grow forth a blossom.

From red roots and green leaves a purple flower opens.

When that flower undergoes all manner of suffering,

Who is there to grieve for it?”

“Master Zhuo, what do you have to say about our time in this floating world?” Mme. Dou said.

“People in the floating world bustle anxiously about, competing for fame and grasping after profit, all to feed and clothe this body,” Xiangzi said. “Sons and daughters are pits of fire, which bind and press us. When will it ever end? An old saying goes, ‘A hundred years are like a fire flaring up, a lifetime is like a floating bubble in the water.’ When you come to think of it, a person may own a hundred thousand acres of good fields, eat a pint of rice every day, possess a thousand houses, and sleep in a bed seven feet wide. Why does he have to betray Heaven and Earth in his heart by his refusal to cultivate himself? The reason is the love between husband and wife, and between children and mother. But when it is time to part, suddenly he becomes incoherent with anxiety and has to do the bidding of others. What advantage is there in this?”

“Master Zhuo, as my nephew doesn’t want to come back, I’d like to help you out with your travel expenses and trouble you to carry a letter to my nephew, calling upon him to return home soon so as to spare us further worry. Are you willing to carry the letter?” Mme. Dou said.

“I’ll carry the letter, but I have no use for travel expenses,” Xiangzi said.

“Your clothes do not cover your body; your food does not fill your mouth. If you accept some travel money, you can save yourself begging for alms on the journey. Why do you have no use for it?”

“I will explain it with a poem:

“I don’t serve a ruler, I don’t plant any fields;

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

After getting up, I transmute myself some gold.

I don’t have to earn the money of sin among ordinary mortals.”⁵

“What is it you call ‘the money of sin’?” Mme. Dou asked.

“The money of officials is all beaten with cudgels out of hapless prisoners subject to excessive punishment and wrongful interrogation,” Xiangzi said. “The money of Buddhists and Daoists is all swindled out of the pockets of lay benefactors. The money of dealers and pedlars has all been accumulated by tortuous means and devices. The money of butchers has all been exchanged for the lives of many animals killed. The money of gambling hall owners is gained by shameless fraud. All of these I call ‘money of sin.’ I will not touch it.”

Mme. Dou said angrily, “I meant well and wanted to help you with your travel expenses, yet you respond with such offensive nonsense.”

Xiangzi chanted another poem,

“I am never a bother to others,

When I am hungry I beg, when I am full, I sleep.

I can sell wind, thunder, rain, and snow,

I can change stone to gold and silver, I can change soil into money.”

Angrily, Mme. Dou said, “Wind, thunder, rain, and snow are divine things of Heaven. How could they be sold to suit your needs? Stones and soil are base things. How could you change them into gold and silver? Zhang Qian, chase this uncouth Daoist out of the house!”

“Please, don’t be angry,” Zhang Qian objected. “If this Master Zhuo says he can change stone into gold, why not let us see him do it? If he can’t do it, we’ll send him to the police station and charge him with vagrancy and swindling, as well as with confusing the world and misleading the people. With such big crimes, he will have to give in.”

“You’re right,” Mme. Dou said. Then she called to Xiangzi, “Since you say you can make gold, will you let me see you transmute some stones?”

“Go ahead and have some stones fetched and I’ll transmute them,” Xiangzi said.

Mme. Dou called to Zhang Qian, “Go to Sleeping Tiger Mountain and fetch a few big stones.”

Zhang Qian chose several others to accompany him. “Elder Brother, where are we going?” they asked.

“The young Daoist says he can turn stones into gold,” Zhang Qian said. “If he succeeds, we’ll ask if we can keep the gold.” Having heard this, they couldn’t wait to carry a whole load of stones, and rushed hot-headed to Sleeping Tiger Mountain.

Xiangzi said to himself, “My aunt has sent people to fetch stones. I have to come up with a plan, or she won’t believe that I am a divine immortal. I’ll make all the stones on Sleeping Tiger Mountain disappear. Let’s see how she handles that.” Then Xiangzi manifested his divine powers and blew a mouthful of pneuma towards Sleeping Tiger Mountain. And really, not one little stone was left. The servants looked all over the mountain, but there was not a single stone of even the smallest size.

At first they were struck dumb, then they said, “Who carried off all the stones on this mountain? If they weren’t stolen by deities or taken by ghosts, it surely must have been that young Daoist, who knew he could not transmute them and therefore used a magic trick to make them vanish.” They had to return and report to Mme. Dou, “We looked everywhere, but there is not a single stone to be found.”

“If there are no stones on the mountain, I’ll have that stone lion carried in,” Mme. Dou said.

“We don’t want to exhaust the men by having them carry the lion,” Xiangzi said. “I just need a handkerchief and a bowl of pure water. If you burn incense and pray, I’ll make that stone lion come walking in by itself.”

And so Mme. Dou told Zhang Qian to quickly fetch a handkerchief, pure water, and an incense burner. When Zhang Qian had brought them, Xiangzi placed the handkerchief on the lion. Mme. Dou knelt down and offered incense. Xiangzi blew a mouthful of immortal’s pneuma on the lion, which moved as if it were alive and came bounding inside. What did this lion look like?

On his head his mane swirled and curled; golden pupils peered from the corners of his eyes. The fur covering his body resembled copper needles; his paws clawed about restlessly. His teeth were arrayed terrifyingly like swords and lances, his tongue licking his chops menacingly. Tigers and leopards would all be startled by him; he was afraid only of being bound by the bodhisattva Samantabhadra.

When Mme. Dou saw the lion bounding in, she jumped up in alarm.

“Beast, stop! You mustn’t startle respectable people,” Xiangzi ordered. Whereupon the lion stopped and became again a gate-guarding stone lion, completely motionless.

Mme. Dou said, “Although I am just a woman, I also know a bit about Daoist principles. If you want to turn stone into gold, you need to use some herbs. Quickly say which ones and I will send for them.”

“Turning stone into gold is not easy, but just watch, please.” Xiangzi once more placed the handkerchief on the lion. He let a grain of golden elixir roll from his bottle gourd and placed it in the lion’s mouth. He spat a mouthful of water on the lion, recited something under his breath, and then, pointing with his right hand, shouted, “The white tiger of the western mountain goes wild. The green dragon of the eastern sea cannot be kept in check. Grasp them in both hands and have them fight to the death—thereby they are transmuted into a lump of purple-gold frost.⁶ Transform now!”

Suddenly Heaven and Earth turned dark. After a while, a rosy light appeared, so intense one had to shield one’s eyes from its glare, and auspicious pneuma abounded in many colors. When Xiangzi removed the handkerchief to look, the lion had turned into gold. Here is a song to the tune “West River Moon” to illustrate it:

It had been an insentient stone from the deep mountains,

Which a skilled craftsman had chiseled into shape.

With a fierce and vicious expression

It quietly guarded gate and courtyard.

Today destiny and fortune will have it

That its skin and fur have changed into gold.

Do not laugh at this as a clever trick;

The affairs of this world can change in a moment,

And this event is no different.

When Mme. Dou saw it, she said, “It truly is a golden lion.”

Zhang Qian objected, “On the outside the lion is golden, but on the inside it’s still just stone. Don’t believe him.”

“Master Zhuo, this gold is false,” Mme. Dou called to Xiangzi.

“Chisel off a piece and have a look. Then you will see whether it is genuine or false,” Xiangzi responded.

Mme. Dou told Zhang Qian, “Fetch a hammer and chisel to see whether it’s gold or stone. If it is gold, I shall believe that this gentleman is a divine immortal.”

Zhang Qian hurriedly fetched hammer and chisel and knocked off one of the lion’s claws. When he looked inside, the interior was an even deeper gold than the outside.

Zhang Qian was so surprised that he stared open-mouthed and drew back three steps.

Mme. Dou said, “How extraordinary!”

Zhang Qian knelt down and suggested to Mme. Dou, “This divine immortal has, by transformation, produced an excellent golden lion. You should reward him with food and wine.”

Mme. Dou told the cook to prepare a table of vegetarian food for Master Zhuo. Zhang Qian set up a table in the study and then went to invite Xiangzi.

Originally Xiangzi was not going to eat the meal, because he knew that Zhang Qian and Li Wan wanted to use the opportunity to steal the immortal elixir in his bottle gourd. However, as he could not very well show that he knew of their designs, he followed them to the study and sat down. Zhang Qian and Li Wan stood against a side wall.

Xiangzi said, “I cannot eat and drink so much wine and so many delicacies. If you do not detest my company, why don’t you sit down and drink a cup with me?”

“Poverty and wealth, high and low rank are all determined by destiny,” Li Wan said. “You are a divine immortal and we have been fated to meet you. We offer you some wine so that you may drink your fill.”

“My capacity for wine is small. I get drunk after just three to five cups,” Xiangzi said.

Eventually the two servants also took some wine and drank merrily, toasting Xiangzi and being toasted by him. After drinking several cups, Xiangzi feigned deep drunkenness, fell to the floor, and pretended to sleep soundly, snoring like thunder.

Zhang Qian right away untied Xiangzi’s bottle-gourd, but Li Wan said, “If the bottle-gourd is gone when he wakes up, he’ll search everywhere and we will have to return it. It would be better to steal some of the elixir drug. Let’s just take out some golden pills for our use.”

So Zhang Qian tipped the gourd and let a pill roll out. However, when it rolled into his hand, it changed into a flame, which he tried in vain to drop. Li Wan did not believe it and poured out another pill, but it changed into a variegated snake which coiled around his palm.

Frightened out of their wits, they dropped the things on the floor. The snake and the fire returned into the bottle-gourd.

Just then Xiangzi awakened and asked innocently, “Why are you making such a noise?”

Zhang Qian said, “You were sleeping, master, and we hadn’t yet reported back to Mme. Dou. We were afraid she might scold us and were discussing what to do.”

Then Xiangzi went with them to thank Mme. Dou. She said to him, “We have another stone lion outside the gate. You might as well turn it into gold as well. When my husband comes home, he’ll present it to the court and request an official appointment for you. What do you think?”

“I don’t want him to do that,” Xiangzi said. “Here is a poem to explain myself:

“Official rank is not so eminent after all—

It is like a sash made from a paper cord.

It looks good while it’s dry,

But in water it falls apart.”

Mme. Dou said, “This uncouth Daoist just keeps messing up his chances for advancement. How dare you hurt my feelings with every word you speak? I’ll give you a poem in return:

“To be an official displays your achievements,

Your reputation is spread all within the four seas.

If you are a withered willow tree,

How can you become a ridgepole?”

Xiangzi said, “Although the willow may be withered now, once it is spring it will put forth blossoms and leaves. I will present you with another poem. Please listen:

“Although the willow may be dead,

It can still become a ridgepole.

But if you are an official and a turn of fate comes about,

Failure will be difficult to face.”

When Mme. Dou heard this, she became very angry and ordered Zhang Qian to chase Xiangzi out.

Xiangzi said to himself, “Although my aunt is so old, she doesn’t understand life and death, and her attachments have no end. What shall I do? For today I shall leave and think of another approach.” Truly,

When you drink with an intimate friend, a thousand cups are not excessive,

But if you speak at an inopportune time, half a sentence is too much.

If you don’t know whether Xiangzi came back or not, listen to the next chapter.