The story continues: Having become the object of unwarranted calumny and suffered slander and curses, waves of anger rose up in Pilgrim, and he wanted to go slaughter them. But then he thought to himself [K. A description of when one’s mind is both clear and beclouded.], “When I left him, my master was sitting nicely on the grass. [K. Following closely this plot line.] How could he be in the World of the Green? This King of the Lesser Moon must be a demon, and that’s all there is to it.”

Good Pilgrim!¹ Without saying another word, he leaped into the air. He had just taken a turn when a walled fortress came into view right in front of him. On top of the gate, where the board with its name should be, was “The World of the Green” written in seal characters naturally formed by ivy and moss. [C. Now we see where the “World of the Green” is.] [K. “The World of the Green” forms a parallel to the New Tang earlier, but each is described differently.] The two leaves of the door were half closed, half ajar. Pilgrim was delighted and made haste to enter. What he saw inside the gate was a tall wall. He ran from east to west, then from west to east, but found no entrance, not even a tiny opening.

Pilgrim laughed. “Does it mean that there’s no one in a fortress like this? If there’s no one here, why would they build a wall? Let me take a more careful look.” He looked for a long time, but it turned out that indeed there was no way in. Annoyed, he knocked himself against the wall, east and west, above and below, until he cracked off a layer of green rock and found himself falling down into a place of dazzling light. [K. Real light? Or illusory light? All kinds of illusions in the mind, all kinds of wild thoughts, not based on reality, all come from knocking about east and west and up and down.]

Pilgrim scrutinized the place: It turned out to be an entirely glazed gallery. Above was a glazed roof, and below were glazed tiles. There were a purple glazed couch, ten green glazed chairs, and one white glazed table with a black glazed teapot and two turquoise blue glazed cups on top of it. [K. Already anticipating drinking tea later.²] Directly in front of him were eight green glazed windows, all of them tightly shut, which left him wondering how he could have gotten inside.

Pilgrim’s astonishment unabated, raising his head, he saw that the four walls consisted of precious mirrors mortared in place.³ [K. The mind/heart is the mirrors, each including the others, thus creating illusory images. The mind causes chaos in itself, producing illusion upon illusion: flowers of madness, roaming stamens—nothing is right.] There were a million of them all told, in different sizes and shapes, whether round or square. One could not describe them in detail; this is simply a general description.⁴

There were the mirror of the Heavenly Sovereign,⁵ with an animal knob; a mirror of white jade, shaped like a heart;⁶ the mirror of self-doubt; the mirror of flowers; the mirror of winds;⁷ the mirror of the feminine; the mirror of the masculine; the mirrors of smoke tree and lotus; the mirror of water; the mirror of the Ice Terrace;⁸ the mirror with intaglio hibiscus;⁹ the mirror of the self; the mirror of the other; the mirror of the moon;¹⁰ the mirror of South Seas; the mirror with which Emperor Wu of the Han mourned the passing of Lady Li;¹¹ the mirror with interlocking green motifs;¹² the mirror of quietude; the mirror of nothingness; the mirror with seal characters written by Li Si of Qin;¹³ the mirror with patterns of parrots; the mirror of keeping silent; the mirror that retains the image;¹⁴ the mirror of the principal spouse of Xuanyuan;¹⁵ the mirror of one laugh; the mirror kept inside a pillow; the mirror that does not retain images;¹⁶ and the mirror that flies.¹⁷

“How interesting!” Pilgrim said. “Wait while I, Old Monkey, go take a look at a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand, a hundred thousand reflections of myself.” He walked over to have a look but was not able to find any reflections of himself. [K. Aha! Where is Pilgrim Sun now?] Instead, in every mirror he perceived a different heaven, earth, sun, moon, as well as mountains and forests. [K. In every mirror is a different heaven, earth, sun, moon, mountains, and forests: those who find themselves there are born, grow old, get sick, and die there; they float and sink in the turbid waves there. Alas, how could the various sentient beings smash this once and for all with their fists!] Pilgrim marveled to himself. All he could do was to take a quick panoramic survey of everything.

Suddenly he heard a loud voice at his ear: “Elder Sun, you’ve been gone these many years; how have you been?”

Pilgrim looked behind himself on both sides, but there was no one to be seen. Nor in the gallery was there any aura of ghosts. The voice did not sound as if it were coming from anywhere else. Just when he was most confused, he suddenly caught sight of someone with a steel pitchfork in a square mirror with an animal-shaped knob. [K. Most fantastic.]

“Elder Sun,” he spoke again in a loud voice, “don’t be surprised. I am your old friend.”

Pilgrim stepped forward and took another look: “You appear a little familiar [K. “Appear familiar”: the root of Dao is still with him.], but I can’t place you just now.”

That man continued, “My family name is Liu, and my given name is Boqin. I too lent a helping hand in getting you released from under the Five Phases Mountain.¹⁸ [K. Ties this book to the previous one. It also looks back to what the Supreme Old Master said, as was retold by the Space-Walkers, in the previous chapter.] If you’ve totally forgotten about me, it shows what kind of man you are.”

Pilgrim, in haste, made a low bow, saying, “My apologies to you, Senior Guardian,¹⁹ my benefactor. What occupies you now? Why are you here in the same place with me?” [K. May I ask Elder Sun, what occupies you now, and why are you here, too?]

Boqin replied, “Why say ‘in the same place’? You’re in someone else’s world, and I’m in your world. These worlds are not the same, not the same!”

“If we are in different worlds,” asked Pilgrim, “how can we see each other?”

“You wouldn’t know this,” Boqin replied, “but the King of the Lesser Moon had this Gallery of a Million Mirrors constructed. [C. Pointed out.] Each mirror relates to one world, which contains everything, every blade of grass, every tree, every movement, every moment of quietude. Look for whatever you wish, and those things will appear before your eyes. So this gallery is called the ‘Great Chiliocosm.’ ”²⁰ [C. Made explicit.]

Pilgrim turned this over in his mind. He was just to ask about the Son of Heaven of the Tang, so as to determine whether the New Tang was real or unreal [K. The author constantly highlights the theme, and then brushes it away: like the “Three Isles of the Blessed” in the sea—one can glimpse them but cannot reach them.], when suddenly an elderly woman stepped out of a black wood. She made three or two somersaults and pushed Liu Boqin inside, and he was not to be seen again.²¹

Pilgrim grudgingly withdrew. From the position of the sun, he could see that it was nearly evening. He thought to himself, “It’s getting dark soon, and it’s unlikely that I can find my master anywhere. I’d better take a careful look at some of the mirrors, and then decide what to do.” [K. He does not rouse himself to search for his master but fiddles around by looking into the mirrors. All this is to describe how muddleheaded the deluded and bewitched person is: he has completely lost track of his true nature.]

Thereupon, he started from the one designated with the character “Heaven No. 1.”²² There he saw someone putting up a roster; on it was written:

The First place among the Budding Talents in the palace round of examinations: Liu Chun.²³

The Second place among the Budding Talents in the palace round of examinations, Wu You.²⁴

The Third Place among the Budding Talents in the palace round of examinations, Gao Weiming.²⁵

Within moments there gathered a crowd of a thousand, ten thousand people; talking and shouting, they thronged and pressed forward to take a look at the roster.

At first there was only the noise of people speaking; then it was followed by the sound of sobbing, then that of angry cursing. Soon these people dispersed, going their separate ways. One sat on rocks, stupefied. One dashed to pieces a ceramic inkstone with mandarin duck motifs. One with disheveled hair was being chased and beaten by his parents and tutors. One opened the case he had always carried with him, took out his valued zither, and burned it, all the time weeping bitterly. One drew the sword hung by his bed to kill himself, while a woman grabbed the weapon to prevent it. One, with his head lowered, was lost in thought, reading his essay for the palace examination again and again. One, roaring with laughter, beat his fists on the table, shouting, “It’s fate, fate, fate!” One, with his head lowered, was vomiting blood. Some elderly persons were each contributing some money to buy wine to comfort one who had failed in the examination. One was composing a poem all by himself: he chanted a line, then kicked a stone with his foot. One would not allow his pageboy to say that his name was not in the announcement. One feigned indignation on the outside but began to smile inside, as if saying the honor was deserved. One was truly grieved and resentful, but he put on a smiling face. [C. Such descriptions are precisely like a painting of those who have failed in the examinations. Liu Zongyuan of the Tang had nothing on this.²⁶] [K. Where are you able to see such scenes not meant to be seen?]

Of that group whose names were on the list, one changed into new clothes and shoes; one tried hard not to smile; one wrote a poem on a wall; one read his composition—read it a thousand times—and went away with it tucked in his sleeve; one complained on behalf of others; one purposefully said that the officials in charge of the examination were incompetent; one made others read the roster—they were unwilling to read it but forced themselves to read to the end; one harangued others, saying how fair this year’s examination was; one was telling how his dream on New Year’s Eve had foretold this; one said that his composition this year fell short of his own expectations.

In no time, someone had made a copy of the composition of the first-place winner and read it aloud in the wine shop, wagging his head rhythmically.

A young man sitting by him asked, “Why is it so short?”

The reader answered, “The composition is long enough, but I only copied down the best lines. Let’s have a look together: we can learn something about rhetoric, so that we may pass next year.” The two of them read it out loud together:

The renewal and revival of the Cause that was left incomplete,

And the promotion and enhancement of Human Relationships:

These are the pure Truth of Learning,

And the perfect Spirit of Government. [C. The several uses of the character zhi (of) are marvelous.]

How so?

This Vision is as irretrievable as the Primordial Chaos;

This Principle is as indispensable as breathing.

Therefore,

The Essence of Human Nature has not diminished;

And the embers of the burned books are all potent.

To sum up,

The First Task in the Creation

Should not be sought beyond the Mean;²⁷

The Silent Work of Spirits

Can be grasped in the subtlety of the Mind.²⁸ [K. Such vivid imitation. The author would have won the first place had he participated in the palace examination.]

Pilgrim Sun laughed loudly. [C. This section will shame to death the scholars of the world.] “Five hundred years ago, when I was in the Eight Trigrams Cauldron [K. Harking back to the parent book and anticipating the episode about the golden gourd.], Old Monkey heard the Old Master discussing the fortunes of writing with the Jade Historian Immortal.²⁹ [C. What a strange idea.] ‘From Yao and Shun to Confucius was the “Phase of Pure Heaven,” which is “Great Prosperity.” From Mencius to Li Si was the “Phase of Pure Earth,” which is “Medium Prosperity.” Five hundred years after this will be the “Phase of Water and Thunder,” when writings may be long in length but short in spirit, which is “Lesser Decline.” Eight hundred years after this will be the “Phase of Mountain and Water”: that will be even more dreadful, more dreadful.’³⁰ [C. Another name for today’s writings is Mountain and Water writings.] [K. Qian (Heaven), Kun (Earth), Zhun (Difficulty at the Beginning), Meng (Youthful Folly): only four phases, and writing becomes like this. I do not know when it will be from Bo (Splitting Apart) to Fu (Return, or the Turning Point).³¹]

“At that time the Jade Historian Immortal then asked, ‘How will it be dreadful?’ The Old Master said, “Alas! There will be a horde of earless, eyeless, tongueless, noseless, handless, footless, heartless, lungless, boneless, muscleless, bloodless, breathless men, who will be called ‘Budding Talents.’ [K. Is the author not afraid of all the Budding Talents of the world signing formal complaints against him?] Their ideas will not fill up one sheet of paper in a hundred years, and when their coffins close they will not even leave so much as two sentences. Their writings may have something else bizarre about them: Hundun, the Primordial Chaos, has been dead for tens of thousands of years, and they won’t leave it alone.³² Yao and Shun are securely seated in the Yellow Court, and they are dragged out. What is inhaled and exhaled are subtle and fine matters. They are provoked rather than nourished. The essence and spirit are the treasures of the entire being, but they are not left in tranquility but roused. What kind of writings are they? They are called writings to win a Gauze Hat. [K. Now called writings to win a hat top.³³] If one can write a few lines of such stuff, it would be one’s good fortune: one will be flattered, fawned upon, and feared.’

“Hearing this from the Old Master, the Jade Historian Immortal took his leave, in tears. Now that I think of it, the first place winner’s essay must be from the ‘Phase of Mountain and Water.’ I will just leave it alone and take a look at ‘Heaven No. 2.’ ”

[C. Pilgrim’s entrance into the New Tang is the first level; his entrance into the World of the Green, the second level; his entrance into the mirror, the third level: each level is more critical, and more perilous, than the previous one.]

[K. Mountain Man of Wuling says: The Han, Wei, and Western Jin constitute the Phase of Water and Thunder; the Eastern Jin to the Northern Song, the Phase of Mountain and River. The latter also anticipates the episode of bringing Qin Hui to justice.]