24
The Old Demon of Yanguan County Indulges in Debauchery
The Bodhisattva on Mount Huihai Puts the Evil Spirits to Death
As a poem puts it,
When Wang Jun’s tiered ships sailed down from Yizhou,1
The regal grandeur of Jinling began to fade.
As the long barrier-chains sank to the riverbed,
Flags of surrender arose o’er the Wall of Stone.
While we sigh at the ups and downs of life,
The hills remain pillowed on the water.
Now that the four seas are under unified rule,
Old forts lie overgrown with autumn weeds.
The above poem was composed by Liu Yuxi [772–842] of the Tang dynasty as he meditated on the past at Swallow Rock outside Nanjing.2 Swallow Rock, situated on the shore of the Yangzi River northwest of the city of Jinling [Nanjing], juts out over the river. Viewed from the river, it has the contours of a swallow, complete with head and wings, overlooking the surface of the water. Afraid that the swallow would fly away, people who were devoted to the public good in days of yore placed iron chains all over the rock and erected a gazebo on the swallow’s neck in order to hold the bird in place. The gazebo commands a panoramic view of the river, the hills, and the boats that set sail right under it.
About one li from this major attraction of Jinling stood a certain Hongji Monastery. To its left is a crag that soars into the air like a stone screen shielding the monastery. At the other end of the crag, the mountain circles back to the monastery. The monks in the old days built a pavilion in an open space. Half nestled against the crag and half overlooking the river (MC: The monks had a poetic touch.), the pavilion housed a shrine to the bodhisattva Guanyin, whose image, when reflected in the water, was so clear that every hair was distinctly visible. With such scenic splendor, especially on moonlit nights, the pavilion came to be called the “Guanyin Pavilion.” Not one day went by without tourists swarming to the place, some bringing their own wine. With so many visitors, as well as stories about the efficacy of prayers to the bodhisattva, the monastery was never short of offerings of incense. The only drawback was that what should have been a tranquil place of Buddhist worship had been reduced, regrettably, to a wineshop. In addition, among the people touring the place, pleasure seekers outnumbered donors. However, with the passage of time, the pavilion fell into disrepair due to a lack of funds for its maintenance.
One day, a merchant from Huizhou moored his boat under Swallow Rock and took a stroll to the monastery to see the sights. A monk greeted him at the gate, asked his name, and invited him to tea. After tea was over, the monk asked, “Where have you come from, sir? And where are you headed?”
“I came across the river from Yangzhou. I’ve brought some money with me for my little shop in the capital. Since it’s getting late, I moored my boat and came up here for some sightseeing.”
The monk said, “A short distance from here is the Guanyin Gate of the outer wall of the city. It’s only twenty li into the city proper from there. Why don’t you have your luggage carried here and stay the night in one of our smaller rooms? Tomorrow morning, you need only take your luggage and go by land to the capital. You’ll arrive there soon enough. If you take the boat, you’ll have to go through inspection at the checkpoint at Longjiang, which can be a time-consuming process. What’s more, the wind and waves are the worst at Swallow Rock. It’s no place for a boat to stay moored.”
Acknowledging the good sense in what he said, the merchant went back to the boat, paid the boatman, and sent the boat on its way. Then he had his luggage carried to a monk’s cell in the monastery and settled in for the night.
When the monk took him on a tour of the pavilion, the merchant of Anhui noticed its tumble-down condition and asked the monk, “With such scenic wonders, how could the pavilion have fallen into such sad disrepair?”
“We have no lack of visitors, but they’re all here to enjoy themselves rather than donate to the monastery, and we monks are too poor to afford the repairs, which is why it’s in such a state.”
“But there must be people with money and power among the tourists. Are you telling me they don’t donate?”
“There’s no lack of rich and powerful people who tour this pavilion, but they come with courtesans, just to drink and have fun. They spend freely on those women but can’t spare a penny for the bodhisattva. And then there are those heartless servants. Once their masters are gone, they polish off the leftovers while doing violence to our doors and windows. With such people messing up the place, it’s no wonder that it’s falling into disrepair!” (MC: This is true everywhere, not just at this pavilion.)
As the merchant of Huizhou sighed ruefully, the monk continued, “If you, sir, could make a donation, that would help us with the repairs.”
“I went over the accounts with my assistant yesterday and found that I do have thirty taels of silver to spare. I’ll donate those thirty taels to you for the repairs, partly out of deference to the bodhisattva and partly to make a name for myself here.”
Immensely pleased, the monk thanked him and went down from the pavilion and into the monastery proper.
The truth of the matter is that natives of Huizhou are parsimonious but inclined to seek fame. They are also devotees of Buddhist rituals. As for our merchant, he readily promised thirty taels because of the delight it would give him if word got out that the Guanyin Pavilion with its tens of thousands of visitors had been repaired with donations from him alone.
Once back in his room, he opened his luggage, retrieved a packet of thirty taels of silver, and gave it to the monk. (MC: One who fails to hide things well invites thieves.) Unfortunately, the monk’s greed was stirred when he took the packet as his prying eyes noticed that there was much more silver there. He ordered the acolytes to prepare a feast in honor of the merchant, and he went out of his way to flatter the merchant at the dinner table and assiduously plied him with wine until the merchant drank himself under the table. After nightfall, when all was quiet, the monk killed the merchant. On opening the dead man’s luggage and finding more than five hundred taels of silver, he was overcome with joy and suggested to his disciple that they dump the corpse into the river. The disciple said, “But the gate of the monastery is locked at this time of night. If we go to the abbot and ask for the key, he’ll surely demand to know why we need it, and we won’t be able to lie our way out of it. Not only will we be found guilty, but we’ll also have to share the money with him.”
“What are we going to do then?” asked the monk.
“There’s a large vat in the wine cellar. Let’s cut the body into pieces and stuff them in the vat. Tomorrow, we’ll dump the vat into the river at the first opportunity. That way, no one will know.”
“Good idea! Good idea!” The monk took his counsel and acted accordingly. Pity the merchant of Huizhou, who was cut into pieces! He donated money out of his good intentions but ended in such a tragic death!
After cleaning up and putting things back in order, the monk and his disciple went to sleep, their minds perfectly at ease. They thought their doings were unbeknownst to gods and ghosts, little knowing that they were to be overtaken by divine justice.
That very night, a police chief on river patrol also moored his boat under Swallow Rock to await new developments in a case he was handling. After he got up the next morning, he saw a woman with a bucket approach the boat from land to fetch water. Her beauty captured his attention. (MC: If she were not a beauty, he would not have followed her.) As he watched her heading, not to any ordinary house, but straight to the monastery, the police chief grew suspicious, thinking, “How can a monastery employ such a beautiful woman as a water carrier? The monks must be up to some monkey business!” He took several of his men and followed. Seeing the woman enter one of the monks’ cells, the officers kept close on her heels, but the woman then headed for the wine cellar.
At the sight of the police descending on them so early in the morning, the monks, with their guilty consciences, were smitten with panic, and the color drained from their faces. But thus taken by surprise, they had no time to dodge. The police chief assembled the monks in the main hall, whereas he himself sat in the middle and ordered two of his men to search the wine cellar. The two men could see the shadow of the woman inside, but as soon as she became aware of their presence, she dived into a wine vat. After they went back and reported what they had seen to the chief, the latter said, “That vat must be involved in a case of injustice.” Right away, he ordered his men to carry the vat outside. Then they opened it, only to see an unsightly mass of mangled human body parts and a split head inside.
The guilty monk and his disciple were duly trussed and taken to the River Security Bureau. Unable to withstand the pain of torture, they confessed to the truth. They were then marched back to the monastery to produce their spoils. With ample evidence against them, both men were sentenced to death and executed immediately.
Before their execution, the two condemned men confessed that they had killed a donor to the pavilion repairs, and everyone realized that the woman was in fact a manifestation of the bodhisattva Guanyin herself. “Namo divine and responsive Bodhisattva Guanyin,” they exclaimed. (MC: Once the others turn their backs, they will resume their evil ways.) All too clearly, the Buddhist heaven is close at hand. One must not do anything against one’s conscience.
Granted that the bodhisattva Guanyin never fails to respond to prayers and manifest herself anywhere, what was witnessed at Swallow Rock is less impressive than what was seen at the three Tianzhu Peaks of Hangzhou. Of the temples at the Upper, Middle, and Lower Tianzhu Peaks, the temple to the bodhisattva at the Upper Peak is the most popular with worshippers. The Tianzhu Peaks, located to the west of the prefectural seat and south of West Lake, commands a view of the palm-shaped lake and the ribbonlike Yangzi River.3 With the deities wonderfully efficacious in this blessed part of the land, visitors fill the temples on the three peaks to bursting year after year. And now, this humble storyteller proposes to tell a story about how the bodhisattva Guanyin manifested her holy power at the Tianzhu Peaks. Lend me your ears! But first, let me cite four poems on wind, flowers, snow, and the moon before I move on to our story proper.
O the gentle breath of the wind!
O the gentle breath of the wind!
It saddens the one pine on the wintry peak;
It sways the tender grass in the spring suburbs.
It sweeps away the clouds to reveal the bright moon;
It lifts the fog to let out the light of the sky.
It wafts the fragrance of osmanthus in autumn;
It dispels heat at the height of summer.
O the gentle breaths of the wind!
The wildflowers fall, and life withers away.
—On Wind
O beautiful flowers!
O beautiful flowers!
Their enchanting blossoms seem to be rouged;
Their delicate patterns seem to be scissor-cut.
Dewdrops enhance their color;
The wind carries their fragrance afar.
One flowering sprig may outshine all others
Among ten thousand blossoms that vie in beauty.
O beautiful flowers!
The imperial garden is the envy of all!
—On Flowers
O the swirling snowflakes!
O the swirling snowflakes!
Gleaming jade envelops the buds of plums;
Glittering salt weighs down the bamboo branches.
The snowflakes churn up white waves in the air;
They pile up on railings and seal off silvery bridges.
A thousand hills are coated with white powder;
Ten thousand trees are clad in white robes.
O the swirling flakes of snow!
Travelers on the road lament the distance ahead.
—On Snow
O the lovely moon!
O the lovely moon!
The new moon’s crescent hangs high overhead;
The full moon in its roundness shines like a mirror.
When scaling the sky, it scatters flowers’ shadows;
When casting its light down, it brightens the ripples.
Poets raise their cups in search of elegant lines;
Beauties open their windows and retire late.
O the lovely moon!
Its crystal light has lit the world since the dawn of time.
—On the Moon
Gentle reader, you may well ask, who wrote these four poems? Well, during the Hongwu reign period [1368–98], there lived on Mount Huihai of Yanguan [present-day Haining], Zhejiang, a hoary old man who always wore the black robe, cotton scarf, and rope sandals of a Daoist priest. Never seen engaged in any useful line of work, he spent his days drinking and singing on the streets. After finishing a song, he would begin to dance. Jumping from tree to tree and spinning round and round, he was as weightless as a flying fish or swallow. He was also a learned man with a poetic turn. He had a sense of humor, and his laugh rippled through the air. His hair was unbound and hung loose like a cascade. Literary gentlemen who toured the mountain liked to engage him in poetic exchanges and pleasant conversations. One day, in a state of intoxication, he asked for a writing brush and an ink slab from a wineshop and wrote the above four poems on a stone wall, to the admiration of all viewers. Then the ink darkened and the surface grew shinier with each rub of the hand. Judging from everything that was so remarkable about him, his acquaintances on the mountain nurtured a suspicion that he might be a supernatural being, but they had no way of verifying their speculations. His comings and goings on the mountain never revealed any fixed abode. Although somewhat intrigued, the mountain dwellers gradually became used to his ways and gave the matter no further thought. So they ended up addressing him as “Old Venerable Priest” whenever they ran into him as they went about their daily lives.
About one li from the mountain lived a wealthy man named Qiu. He and his wife, both in their forties, were much given to charity. Being without issue, they went to a great deal of expense and had a statue of the bodhisattva Guanyin carved for a shrine at their home. Every morning and evening, they offered incense, flowers, and fruit to the well-lit shrine and prayed that their wish would be granted. On the bodhisattva’s birthday, the nineteenth day of the second lunar month, they piously abstained from meat and wine and respectfully went to Tianzhu Peak. They prostrated themselves on the ground every three steps on their way up the hill. In the temple, they burned incense sticks and prayed for a child, male or female, to carry on the family line. After three years went by in like fashion, Mrs. Qiu indeed achieved pregnancy. At full term, she gave birth to a girl one night. Overcome with boundless joy, husband and wife named her Night Pearl (MC: Good name.) because she was born at night and was as precious to them as a luminous pearl that shines in the darkness.
The years went by, and the girl came of age. She was as graceful and pretty as she was versatile in her skills, especially needlework. Her parents cherished her as they would pearls and jade. Soon she was nineteen years of age, and her parents were in their sixties, but she remained unbetrothed. Wouldn’t you agree that parents who have children later in life would be eager to have the children marry as soon as possible so that they could be cared for in their declining years? Why was a girl past sixteen years of age not yet spoken for? Well, it was because, for this beloved daughter of a distinguished family and a beautiful and clever girl at that, her parents had high expectations for her and were determined to have a son-in-law who was all perfection. After he made his mark in the world, they would expect him to take care of them for the rest of their lives. Moreover, rather than having their daughter move out, they wanted him to be a live-in son-in-law. Several of the neighboring families had approached them with betrothal offers, but they found most of them unqualified, while the few who were to their liking insisted that the daughter-in-law leave her parents and live with the man’s family. A few of the young men did have the requisite looks and scholarship, but their means were a little too slender. Those who possessed the requisite wealth and lineage were lacking in intellectual endowment. (MC: These qualities are indeed often mutually exclusive. You just can’t have both.) And so, possible candidates were either too highly placed or too lowly for her. As the matchmakers grew impatient with the picky parents, no match was made as time went by. On the contrary, word about the Qiu girl’s beauty and the parents’ fastidiousness in picking a son-in-law began to spread far and wide. All too unexpectedly, the gossip stirred the desire of one man.
Gentle reader, you may wonder who that man was. Could he be a man as rich as Shi Chong, wishing to buy Green Pearl?4 Could he be as talented a scholar as Sima Xiangru with his eye on Wenjun?5 Or could he be as handsome as Pan An, so much so that women admirers would throw fruit at him?6 Gentle reader, if so, there would have been no element of surprise. No. To give you a good laugh, it was a veritable
Lü Wang of the Zhou dynasty
Seeking a fishing partner7
Or Fu Sheng of the Han dynasty
Marrying a co-lecturer.8
So, who was he? He was the old man who wrote the four poems on wind, flowers, snow, and the moon cited above. From morning till night, he pestered one matchmaker after another, begging them to speak to the Qiu family. When the matchmakers asked him whom he was representing, he replied that it was none other than himself. The matchmakers took it as a joke. Who would be willing to act on his behalf ? They said, giggling, “Even if the Qius pick and choose ten thousand times until their daughter rots away, he still won’t stand a chance. That horny old fool is like a toad in the sewers craving swan meat!”
Ignored by every matchmaker he approached, the old priest went in all brazenness to the Qiu residence (MC: A sudden move.), unaccompanied. Mr. Qiu and his wife were consulting each other privately in the reception hall about their daughter’s dim marriage prospects. At the sight of the old priest, Mr. Qiu rose to greet him, knowing his eccentric ways. On account of his advanced age, Mrs. Qiu did not remove herself from this male presence. After an exchange of greetings, all three sat down. Mr. Qiu asked, “To what do I owe the honor of your visit, Venerable Priest?”
“This humble old man is here to talk about your daughter’s marriage.”
Assuming he was there as a matchmaker, Mr. and Mrs. Qiu hastened to call for tea and asked, “Which family is the candidate from?”
“Mine.”
Not knowing where the old man lived with his family, Mr. Qiu was more than a little vexed and forced himself to say, “We’ve been acquainted for some time now, but I never knew you had sons.”
“I’m not talking about any son of mine. I know that your daughter is not to be married to an ordinary man, so I’m wooing her myself.”
Displeased that the old man was getting out of line but not taking him seriously, Mr. Qiu said, “Venerable Priest, you do love a joke.”
“No, this is no joke. I do wish to be your son-in-law, and the marriage will surely take place. It’s no use turning me down.”
Those preposterous assertions enraged Mr. and Mrs. Qiu. Mr. Qiu said hotly, “My daughter is such a fine girl that unqualified families don’t even dare make a proposal. Who do you think you are, letting your tongue run away with you like that?” So saying, Mr. Qiu rose to his feet and gave the old man a push, but the latter remained where he was, quite unruffled.
Then the old man rose and said, respectfully clasping his hands in front of his chest, “My father-in-law, you’ve got it wrong. Picking a son-in-law matters to you only because you want to be taken good care of in your old age. Now, if you marry your daughter to me, I’ll do my filial duty by you while you’re alive and take care of your burial with all due ceremony after you’re gone. I’m a highly dependable person when it comes to serious business. If I don’t qualify as an ideal son-in-law, I wonder who would.”
Mr. Qiu shouted at the top of his voice, “Don’t you know that people aren’t supposed to marry across social classes and age groups? Why didn’t you give the matter some thought before barging in to make fun of us? You’re either deranged or depraved! But why am I even talking to you?” With that, he told the servants to get the canes and drive him out. Mrs. Qiu confined herself to a string of angry words from the sidelines.
The old priest said with a grin as he headed for the door, “There’s no need to drive me out. I’m leaving of my own accord. But should you regret it in the future, you can forget about coming to see me!”
Pointing a finger at him, Mr. Qiu continued, “You heap of old withered bones! Why would I want to see you? I know this for a certainty: The day will come when you’ll be lying by the roadside, at the mercy of dogs and crows!”
Stroking his beard, the old priest gave a long, drawn-out laugh and took himself off. (MC: An unfathomable laugh.)
After Mr. Qiu had the servants close the gate, he and his wife continued to seethe with rage. They grumbled to each other, “We suffered such humiliation only because no betrothals are coming our girl’s way.” Promptly, they told the servants to spread out and bring matchmakers to them. When the matchmakers came and learned that the old priest had been there to act on his own behalf, they abandoned themselves to peals of laughter. One of them said, “How can there be such a shameless old geezer under heaven! Some days ago, he also pestered us. We all turned him down, so he had to come himself.”
Mr. Qiu said, “The old man has some literary talent and loves to use it to play pranks on people. He did this to humiliate us because, on account of our strict standards in picking a son-in-law, our daughter remains unbetrothed. Now please keep an eye out for us and find us a son-in-law quickly. I’ll settle for anyone who’s just roughly up to the mark. I’ll have hefty rewards for you!”
The matchmakers acknowledged the order and went their separate ways. So much for them.
Two days later, Night Pearl was embroidering a shoe by the window when a pair of beautiful, large, yellow butterflies with red wings, black antennae, and purple feet flew up to her. They kept circling around her, as if attracted to the sweet smell of her body. Pleasantly surprised, Night Pearl cast her silk handkerchief at them but failed to catch them. As the butterflies flew a little distance off, Night Pearl could no longer hold herself back and laughingly called out to her maid and told her to come and also bat at them. When they flew farther away, Night Pearl and her maid followed them all the way to the tree-peony bed in the back garden. There, the two butterflies gradually grew in size until they were as large as eagles. In less time than it takes to tell, they swooped down on Night Pearl, and, looking like two large pointed bamboo hats, one on each side of the girl, they held her under her arms and lifted her into the air.
As Night Pearl screamed at the top of her voice, the appalled maid reported to Mr. Qiu. By the time Mr. and Mrs. Qiu arrived in the back garden, the two butterflies carrying Night Pearl had already flown over the garden wall. Mr. Qiu cried out in alarm, but there was no hope of rescuing her. The old couple burst into wails of grief. “Some sorcerer got her!” they lamented. Clueless as to her whereabouts, they sent out search parties everywhere, but more of them later.
Let us turn to Night Pearl at the moment when she was lifted into the air by the two butterflies, one on each side of her. Feeling as if she was riding on a cloud or a fog, she knew she was under the spell of a sorcerer, but, with her feet not touching the ground, she was in an entirely helpless state. She did, however, see clearly that she had flown over quite a few brambly paths and precipitous cliffs. Finally, she was slowly let down on a steep peak in front of a cave with a mouth no larger than a human head. No paths were seen nearby. The two butterflies disappeared, leaving in view only an old man in a Daoist priest’s robe, standing with his hands respectfully clasped in front of his chest. Delighted at the sight of Night Pearl, he grabbed her hand and cried out in the direction of the cave. With a thunderous boom, the mouth of the cave suddenly opened wide, and Night Pearl found herself and the old priest inside the cave. Quickly, she turned around to look and saw that the wall of the cave had already closed in around them, making exit quite impossible. In consternation, she stole a glance at the inside of the cave and found it to be as spacious as a reception hall. More than twenty monkeys with human faces came to greet the old priest, addressing him as “Master of the Cave.” The old priest said, “My bride is here. Start preparations for a banquet!”
The monkey-men acknowledged the order.
Night Pearl then noticed another room, off to one side, that was as clean and tidy as a monk’s cell. On a table by the window were writing brushes, ink slabs, and books. Also there were a bamboo couch and two rows of stone benches on which sat four or five beautiful women, with six or seven maidservants standing behind them. In front of the couch was a table laden with incense, flowers, wine, and fruit. There was no trace of meat or fish. The old priest announced, “Let my wedding ceremony begin!” As he tugged at Night Pearl, wanting her to sit by his side, she stood rooted to the spot, resentful and afraid. Losing his temper, the old priest barked an order at the monkey-men, telling four or five of them to seize Night Pearl and force her to her seat. At this point, Night Pearl sat down in resignation. Greatly pleased now, the old priest tried to ply her with wine, but she declined the offers. The old priest drank alone, one large bowlful after another, and soon got ferociously drunk. A woman and a maidservant helped him to bed, and all three lay down to sleep. Night Pearl squatted by a stone bench, distraught with grief. Thinking of her parents, she kept weeping and passed the whole night without a single wink of sleep.
The next morning, on seeing Night Pearl’s tear-stained face and swollen eyelids, the old priest caressed her back and offered her these words to assuage her grief, “Your family isn’t far away, and we’ve just made each other’s acquaintance. Why don’t you try and have some fun while you’re still young? Why torment yourself like this? If you yield to me, I’ll take you back home to see your parents for a reunion. That can easily be done. But if you continue to resist me, you’ll never be able to leave this place, not even when the rocks crumble and the oceans dry up! It’s up to you which way to go!”
On hearing this, Night Pearl thought, “I’ll never submit to him. Since I’ll never be let out of this place, why would I want to hang on to this life? I’d be better off dead!”
As she ran toward the wall, headfirst, meaning to kill herself, the old priest quickly told the women present to stop her. They did and said gently to her, “Since you’re already here, young lady, you’re no longer in control. Calm down and try to make yourself at home. Don’t treat life so lightly.”
Night Pearl kept weeping and refused to accept food and beverage, meaning to starve herself to death. To her surprise, she was not any the worse for it after more than ten days of fasting. Since her death wish had come to nothing, she found herself at her wit’s end and grew afraid that she might not be able to save herself from defilement. Inwardly, she kept praying to the bodhisattva Guanyin for help. (MC: What else can she do?)
The old priest sported with the other women day after day in order to arouse Night Pearl, but she remained as adamant as ever. Considering her gloominess, the old priest did not force himself on her but performed magic tricks to cheer her up so that she would yield herself to him in a good mood. Day in and day out, he showed her various tricks, partly to please her and partly to flaunt his prowess so that she would give up all hope of getting out and submit herself to him with all her heart.
You may ask, what were his tricks? It being autumn, he collected clusters of flowers from rice plants and hid them in a stone chest. Every day, he put one-tenth of a liter of rice flowers in a pot and turned them into fragrant grains of rice. (MC: His tricks should produce enough amusement in the cave. Why would he even need sex?) He would also put a pinch of the rice grains in a jar of water, seal the jar with a piece of paper, and hide it in a pine grove. After two or three days, he would open the seal and reveal a jarful of aromatic wine, enough for everyone in the cave. They were thus amply supplied with wine and rice without any effort. On rainy days when they all stayed inside, he would make paper cuts for fun, producing butterflies, phoenixes, dogs, swallows, foxes, apes, snakes, and mice. Then, if he ordered them to go to a certain house and bring him a certain thing, they would go and be back in an instant with the desired object. The butterflies that had brought Night Pearl to him were products of this trick. The miscellaneous household items that they brought were returned after use. As for the peaches, plums, and other fruits, they were not stolen but were plucked daily from trees on the mountain by two monkey-men, taking turns, and were complete with leaves and stems. Night Pearl marveled at his daily performances, but she remained unshaken in her resolve not to submit herself to him. The moment the old priest tried to make advances to her, she would scream and wail, threatening to kill herself, until his patience ran out and he went to find amusement with the other women. Luckily for her, the old priest would cavort only with women in a jovial mood, rather than one weighed down with grief. Therefore, Night Pearl’s body remained undefiled even after she had stayed in the cave for quite some time.
One day, while the old priest was away, Night Pearl said to the other women, “You and I are all born of parents, not spirits of the mountains and forests. Why do you submit to that sorcerer and bring such humiliation on yourselves?”
With a sigh, one of the women said to Night Pearl, “Yes, we’re all human beings. Why would we willingly become a sorcerer’s kept women? It’s just our bad luck that we fell prey to his sorcery and ended up here in captivity. We sorely miss our parents and our husbands, but there’s nothing we can do. We swallow the humiliation and hang on to life only because we tell ourselves that we could have fared worse and been reincarnated as pigs, sheep, dogs, or horses in this life. Things being the way they are, what’s the use of crossing him? We might as well relax and let the days go by as Heaven dictates. There may come a day when his evil doings catch up with him. Then we’ll be able to go back to the human world.” At this point, every one of the women dissolved in tears. There is a ci poem to the tune of “A Gourd-Bottle of Vinegar in a Shang Mode” about these women:
The beauties secretly lamented their fate;
They fell prey to an evil spirit.
Though they enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh,
His looks struck fear in their hearts.
They finished the business in a hurry;
He was no Mr. Liu of Peach Blossom Cave.9
There is another poem about Night Pearl of the Qiu family:
She was a rare pearl that glowed at night,
But she fell into mud before gaining glory.
With her purity undefiled,
The sorcerer’s lust made him a figure of fun.
Once the sky cleared and the sun came out,
His gain might turn out to be a loss.
While the women were pouring out their woes to one another, consumed with grief, a monkey-man suddenly appeared with the announcement “The Master of the Cave is back!”
Afraid that he might detect something amiss, the other women all wiped away their tears and dispersed, leaving Night Pearl behind, her face still wet with tears. When the old priest arrived, he said to her, “You’ve been here for quite some time now. Why are you still in tears? I was hoping that you’d gradually warm up to me so I’d win your heart and we could both enjoy our time together. I didn’t want to force myself on you. That’s not my way of doing things. So I didn’t put pressure on you. (MC: He’s an old hand at this business.) But now, after so many days have gone by, you remain as stubborn as ever. If you make me angry, I’ll have several servants pin you down and force myself on you. Where can you go? To the sky?”
Horrified, Night Pearl dared not indulge in sobs but kept praying silently to the bodhisattva Guanyin for rescue and protection. Let us leave her at her prayers and return to Mr. and Mrs. Qiu.
Ever since their daughter’s disappearance, the old couple had missed her day and night. They put up posters on major thoroughfares that said, “He who offers information about our daughter will win her as wife as well as our family fortune.” And yet no word came to them despite the passage of time. Moreover, those who had witnessed the girl rise into the air recognized the power of sorcery, which was beyond human intervention. At their wit’s end, Mr. and Mrs. Qiu could do no more than pray daily, with bitter tears, to the statue of the bodhisattva, “O Bodhisattva so responsive to prayers, you blessed us with this daughter in answer to our prayers. Now that she’s been snatched away by a sorcerer, if you don’t go to her rescue and return her to us, why didn’t you refuse to give her to us in the first place? Please manifest your divine power!” Day after day, they cried out their prayers at the top of their voices. (MC: How sad!) Their earnestness could have brought clay statues of deities to life.
One day, a canopied pole with an object hanging from it was suddenly seen standing atop Mount Huihai. As no such pole had ever been seen on this mountain, the sight caused quite a stir and attracted a large crowd of spectators. Failing to recognize the object hanging from it, they indulged in wild guesses.
Among the crowd was a scholar named Liu Deyuan. The scion of a distinguished family, he was steeped in learning despite of his youth and had an inquisitive mind. The unusual sight of the canopied pole triggered his scholarly impulse to get to the bottom of the matter. He had several servants make a rope ladder and bring him long-handled hooks, a steel fork, and wooden boards. “Those who want to watch, follow me!” he cried. Applying his abundant intelligence, he used the steel fork to hoist the rope ladder into big trees so that he could ascend the mountain, where there was no trail in sight; he laid the wooden boards on the ground whenever the surface was too rough and uneven; and he hung on to the long-handled hooks when the going was too dangerous. With him pressing ahead in front, more than ten people, including his servants, followed behind so they could be part of the action, and they all managed to reach the top of the mountain.
Once there, they found the ground quite level. Having thus gained a firm foothold, they saw a large open cave on a cliff halfway down the mountain. In the cave were more than ten women, some sleeping, some sitting, all apparently in an intoxicated trance. Several tens of old monkeys lay in pools of blood, their heads chopped off. From their vantage point high above, the men had a clear view of everything in the cave. On turning their eyes to the object hanging from the pole, they saw that it was the skeleton of an old rhesus monkey. Liu Deyuan was astounded. He had heard about the missing-person posters that the Qiu family had put up and thought, “Could the Qiu girl be among these women?”
With great dispatch he went down the mountain, sent a messenger to the county yamen to report the matter, and went himself to inform Mr. Qiu. Beside himself with joy, Mr. Qiu went with him to the country yamen to await instructions for action. Losing no time, the county magistrate sent a team of police officers to go and investigate. Li Deyuan led the officers up the mountain, while Mr. Qiu, being advanced in years, would hardly be able to make it up the mountain and waited in front of the county yamen for news. With Deyuan leading the way, the officers soon arrived.
As a matter of fact, the cave was visible from above but completely cut off from its surroundings below, which was why the evil spirits could hide so many people inside. From the peak of the mountain, the police officers had a clear view of the women. Holding on to the brush and vines, they blazed a trail to the cave and brought the women out one by one. When the procession arrived at the county yamen, Mr. Qiu wondered if his daughter was in it or not. When he detected her across the distance among the group of women, her hair disheveled, he went up and stopped her. Father and daughter fell on each other’s shoulders and broke down in tears.
Upon the group’s arrival in the courtroom, the county magistrate called the women forward and questioned them on their backgrounds. After they told the magistrate everything, including what they had witnessed day after day, the magistrate was convinced that they were decent womenfolk who had fallen prey to sorcery. He asked further, “Who killed the evil spirit today?”
“He was going to rape Night Pearl of the Qiu family (MC: Night Pearl puts these women to shame.) when it turned dark all around us, and we were rendered half unconscious, but we did hear loud noises and sobs and the clanging of swords. We had no idea what could have happened. We didn’t come to until the police officers came to our rescue. We saw all the monkeys dead on the ground, but the evil old sorcerer was nowhere in sight.”
At this point, Liu Deyuan and the officers presented the skeleton and the canopied pole to the magistrate, saying, “This skeleton, which was hanging from the pole, must have belonged to the evil old sorcerer. He must have been slain by the gods.”
The county magistrate asked, “Has this canopied pole ever been seen on the mountain before?”
“Never,” answered everyone in chorus.
“How strange!” exclaimed the magistrate. “Where could it have come from?” He ordered Liu Deyuan to bring the pole to him for closer examination. There, on the pole, were inscribed several vertical lines of writing in small characters, complete with the date. The canopied pole, in fact, was part of the paraphernalia in the temple to the bodhisattva at the Upper Tianzhu Peak. Realizing that the bodhisattva had been manifesting her divine power, the magistrate was awestruck. He immediately ordered that the officers do a roll call of the women and send notices to their families so that they could come and reclaim their women.
Mr. Qiu, who was already waiting outside, was the first to make a claim. After signing the receipt, he took Night Pearl out of the yamen. Just as if he had acquired a luminous pearl in the darkness of the night, he kept calling her one term of endearment after another.
When they arrived home, mother and daughter wept as though they would never stop. Mrs. Qiu asked Night Pearl, “When you were lifted into midair by sorcery, the two of us rushed over, only to see you fly over the wall and out of the house. Where were you taken, and what happened?”
“I was lifted into midair by two giant butterflies. My mind was clear. I just couldn’t get down. I heard your cries. I arrived at a place where an old man dressed like a Daoist priest greeted me and took me into a cave. Evil spirits in the cave called him ‘Master of the Cave,’ and he tried to force me to marry him. Those women were already in the cave. They were also victims of his sorcery. They advised me to submit, but I held my ground.”
Mrs. Qiu said, “I’m so happy that we get to see you back home again! Even if you’ve been defiled, you’re not to blame because you couldn’t help it.”
“Mother, it’s not like that. Because I rejected him and threatened to kill myself, that old demon debauched other women instead of pestering me, so I managed to preserve my chastity. Last night, it was after he had given up all hope of my submission that he resorted to force and had several monkey-men pin me down by my hands and feet, and two or three of the women took off my underwear. When he was about to defile me, I thought that this time there was no way I could get out of it. In desperation, I cried out ‘The divine and responsive Bodhisattva Guanyin!’ A gust of wind sprang up, and everything went dark as the evil spirits began to wail. It was so dark that I couldn’t even see my own hand in front of me, and I passed out. I didn’t come around until many people entered the cave to rescue us. I saw that all the monkey-men had been killed and the old demon was gone. I have no idea what happened.”
Mr. Qiu said, “Since your disappearance, your mother and I have been praying day and night to the bodhisattva Guanyin. Many people have been moved by our earnestness and asked around for information out of sympathy for us, but nothing came of their searches. Amazingly enough, it was indeed the bodhisattva Guanyin who manifested her divine power and killed the demon. When that old priest came some time ago to make an offer of marriage, we were annoyed with him because he didn’t know his limits. We had no idea he was a demon. And now, he got his comeuppance in this very life. Be all that as it may, if Scholar Liu had not taken it upon himself to lead a team of people to find out what was hanging from the canopied pole, how would the secret of the cave have ever been brought to light? Plus he reported the matter to the county yamen for a rescue effort and then came to notify us. We must never forget what we owe him.”
In the midst of their conversation, several women came with their relatives and friends to visit Night Pearl and her parents. All three of them went out to greet the visitors and ushered them in. They were women who had shared the cave with Night Pearl and had been released to go home. The fact was that on reuniting with their families, they learned that they owed their delivery to Mr. and Mrs. Qiu’s fervent prayers and Night Pearl’s firm resistance and appeals to the bodhisattva, who then acted in response. That was why they had come to the Qiu residence together to offer their thanks. Only then were Mr. and Mrs. Qiu convinced of the truth of what Night Pearl had told them. After expressing their gratitude, the women began to talk about pooling their resources in order to build a temple on top of the mountain in honor of the bodhisattva Guanyin. Everyone rejoiced.
While they were thus engaged in conversation, Scholar Liu also came to visit the Qius. With his scholar’s curiosity, he was there for no other purpose than to inquire about details of life in the cave so as to complete his record of the event. He never expected to stumble upon so many people, who turned out to be victims from the cave and their families and friends. On learning that the visitor was the very Scholar Liu who had led a group of men up the mountain and reported what he had seen to the magistrate and was therefore their savior, they all saluted him and bowed their thanks.
“Why are so many of you gathered here?” asked the scholar.
The assembled women told him that they were there partly to thank Mr. and Mrs. Qiu for their fervent prayers and Night Pearl for her rejection of the demon and her appeals to the bodhisattva, who then delivered them from their misery, and partly to talk about pooling their resources to build a temple. “It’s such a rare opportunity that we should run into you, Scholar,” said one of the women. “Now that we’ve become acquainted, could you please write a petition for us? We’ll bring the matter to the attention of the county yamen tomorrow and act together.” (MC: Exactly the kind of thing a scholar should be involved in.)
Scholar Liu said, “Yes, just leave it to me! I’ll go to the county yamen tomorrow and make an appeal to the magistrate—first, about building a temple and, second, about praising Miss Qiu. It was, after all, her chastity and strength of character that brought the response from the bodhisattva.”
While he was mouthing the words “We wouldn’t presume,” Mr. Qiu, impressed by Scholar Liu’s articulateness and expansive spirit, began to have ideas.
“Scholar, who might your father-in-law be?” he asked.
“I’ve frittered away my youth. I’m not yet betrothed.”
“This old man has made a vow: Anyone who brings me information about my daughter will have my family fortune and my daughter as wife. This is known to everybody. Now you went up the mountain, found my daughter, and reported to me. I can’t go back on my word. In the presence of so many witnesses, I propose that we form a marriage alliance. How does the idea strike you?”
The visitors all broke into cheers. “Wonderful! Wonderful! A brilliant scholar and a beautiful maiden—this is a perfect match!”
But Scholar Liu would have none of it. “Please don’t say this, sir. It was just out of curiosity and for the fun of it that I took the risks and went on the search. It was by chance that I found the truth. It had been some time since you put up the missing-person posters on the streets, so in the excitement of the moment, I came to report the good news to you, but I didn’t have the reward in mind. If that’s the way you see it, you’re taking me for less than I am, as if I acted out of selfish motives. With all due respect, I can’t oblige you.”
As the visitors all took Mr. Qiu’s part, Scholar Liu felt hurt. Unable to come up with an appropriate reply, he took leave of them, though he agreed to meet the women the next day at the county yamen.
After he left, everyone praised him for being such a scholarly and honorable gentleman, saying that a good man like him was a rare find. Mr. Qiu said, “Tomorrow, I’ll ask a matchmaker to bring off this match for my daughter.”
An older and wiser person walked up to him and said, “We’ll be going to the county yamen to present our petition anyway. While we’re at it, why don’t you speak to the magistrate and ask him to intervene? Wouldn’t that be nice?” (MC: Yes, very nice.)
Everyone said in unison, “Good idea!”
After the visitors left, Mr. Qiu talked with his wife and his daughter about Scholar Liu’s many virtues, and they were all filled with admiration.
The next day, after the county magistrate opened his court session, Scholar Liu was the first one to step forward. He gave a report on how the bodhisattva had manifested her divine power, how the victims wanted to pool their resources and build a temple, and how Miss Qiu had protected her own chastity and moved the goddess to wipe out the evil spirits. Only then did the women present their signed petition. The magistrate approved construction of the temple and pledged ten taels of silver from the county treasury. He drew up a document to that effect, affixed the county seal to it, and gave it to the oldest and most respected member of the assembled company. The petitioners thanked him and told him about Mr. Qiu’s wish to have Scholar Liu as a son-in-law out of gratitude to the latter.
Turning to Mr. Qiu, the magistrate said, “Tell me more about this.”
“However grateful we are to the bodhisattva for manifesting her divine power and slaying the evil spirits who kidnapped my daughter, my daughter also would have died in the cave if Scholar Liu had not made the effort to go up the mountain. In our joy over the family reunion, I sincerely wish to marry my daughter to him. To my surprise, Scholar Liu refused, which is why we’re petitioning Your Honor together, hoping that you’ll support me.”
The magistrate told Scholar Liu to approach the bench and said to him, “There’s a chorus in favor of your marriage with Miss Qiu. This is a good thing. Why don’t you agree?”
“I did this out of curiosity about something out of the ordinary. I had no marital intentions. If I accept this marriage offer, uninformed outsiders will take me to be a greedy man with ulterior motives. What a loss of face that will be for me! Moreover, I was just telling Your Honor about Miss Qiu’s fortitude in protecting her chastity. If she were to become my wife, those words of mine can be construed as selfishly motivated. With what little learning I have, I value honor, integrity, and self-respect above all else. Therefore, I won’t venture to oblige you.” (MC: Scholar Liu deserves respect.)
The county magistrate stomped a foot and exclaimed, “Such a man is hard to come by! Miss Qiu’s fortitude in protecting her chastity, Mr. Liu’s sense of honor, and Mr. Qiu’s eagerness to repay a kindness—these are all highly worthy qualities. Being privileged to witness such an event, I’m duty bound to bring about your happiness. I’ll officiate at the wedding. My worthy friend, you can’t refuse!”
Without a moment’s delay, he ordered that ten taels of silver be taken out of the county treasury to help with the betrothal gift and that a band of percussion musicians escort the party out of the county yamen to the Qiu residence for a betrothal ceremony. (MC: Good magistrate!) Then, on a chosen auspicious day, Scholar Liu moved into the Qiu residence and became the old couple’s live-in son-in-law.
One month later, the newly wedded couple made their way to the Upper Tianzhu Peak to make an incense offering to the bodhisattva Guanyin and to return the canopied pole. Before long, the new temple on the peak was completed, thanks to concerted efforts from all, and it goes without saying that the young couple went there to offer incense and light candles. Later, Scholar Liu passed the civil service examinations and brought glory and high status to himself and to his wife. Mr. Qiu and his wife lived to a ripe old age and passed away on the same day while intoning the sutras, but this happened later.
Let us return to the stone wall on Mount Huihai. After the evil spirits were exterminated, the four poems—on wind, flowers, snow, and the moon—vanished as if washed away. It was by then evident to everyone that the old priest was an old demon rather than a decent man. There is a poem in testimony:
The old ageless demon on the mountain
Found secluded shelter in the stone cave.
To slay him, the bodhisattva was suddenly called upon;
Remember that Buddhist restraint conquers evil.