26

In a Competition for Sexual Favor, a Village Woman Is Murdered

In Claiming Celestial Authority, a Judge Solves a Case

In the words of a poem,

Murder may lurk behind a pretty face

When a monk covets the conjugal life.

Vile debauchers, no better than rakshasas,

Reduce live beings to bloody wandering ghosts.

The story relates that there lived in Lin’an [present-day Hangzhou] a scholar Zheng who had passed the imperial civil-service examinations at the provincial level. He pursued his studies in a room called “Clear Cloud Cell” in the northwestern corner of the local Qingfu monastery. The abbot, Guangming, was a dashing and romantically inclined man who took delight in associating with officials and scholars. As the monastery was well provided for and his own purse was also abundantly supplied, literary gentlemen found his company enjoyable. Scholar Zheng, whose bond with the monastery was of longer duration than anyone else’s, shared his views and interests and was his best friend. Guangming had shown the scholar every exquisite room and secluded corner throughout the monastery except one, a small room at the end of a long, winding path. Access to the room was by key only and limited to Guangming himself, but he rarely entered it. The door always remained closed, and no one else had ever been able to gain admittance. Even a friend like Scholar Zheng, who was no stranger to all the other rooms, had never seen the inside of that room. Believing it to be the monks’ treasury, Scholar Zheng tactfully refrained from prying into the secret, as did everyone else.

One day, the bell in the main hall was struck to announce the arrival of some potentate or another. Guangming was in that very small room at the time. He rushed out in great haste to greet the visitor, just as Scholar Zheng happened to stroll leisurely past the room. Seeing the door open, he thought, “This room is always under lock and key. I’ve never seen the inside of it. (MC: Since he has never seen the inside of this room, he should take care to hold himself above suspicion if he were more prudent.) Why isn’t it locked today?”

As he was thinking these thoughts, his legs took him into the room. Impressed by the nicely laid wooden floor, he cast a look around and found that, other than its elegant furniture, the room did not boast anything out of the ordinary and not fit to be seen. Scholar Zheng said to himself, “Those who have renounced the world are a strange lot, after all. What’s so secret about this room that justifies lock and key?” At this point, his eyes happened to rest on a small bed in the room. Dangling from the hook of the bed curtain was a small and exquisitely crafted sandalwood fish with a mallet attached to it.1 With his love of fun, Scholar Zheng took the fish and mallet down from the hook, toyed with them, and playfully hit the fish twice with the mallet. All of a sudden, a bronze bell rang out from under the bed, a small panel of the floor was pushed up, and a beautiful girl’s head emerged. Startled at the sight of Scholar Zheng, the girl quickly withdrew her head. Scholar Zheng, no less surprised, took a close look and recognized the girl to be a cousin of his.

As a matter of fact, that particular panel of the floor was ingeniously crafted. It served as a door when pushed up and, once pushed back down, looked no different than the next floor panel, but it could be pushed upward only from below and could not be opened from above. The girl had struck the bell and emerged only because she had heard the signal being struck on the wooden fish. Unbeknownst even to the gods, underneath the floor was a cellar with a window and a secret tunnel leading to the kitchen with its supplies of food. Scholar Zheng said to himself, “No wonder that mean baldy keeps this door locked. Now I know why. But I shouldn’t have stumbled upon this secret of his. I may get myself in trouble.” In consternation, he put the wooden fish and mallet back on the hook and rushed out of the room, only to run smack into Guangming.

Guangming was already alarmed after seeing the door open. Then he noticed Scholar Zheng’s disconcerted air and flushed face. The sight of the small wooden fish swinging to and fro from the curtain hook confirmed his fear that his secret was out. “What did you see just now?” he asked Scholar Zheng.

“Nothing.”

“Shall we go in and sit for a while?” So saying, Guangming took Scholar Zheng’s arm and led him in. Once both were inside, Guangming bolted the door and drew a knife from the head of the bed. (MC: How ruthless!) “This poor monk may be friends with you,” said he, “but what just happened puts us at odds. It’s either you or me. I don’t want to die if I’m found out. You have your own bad luck to blame. You never should have set foot in this room. Kill yourself, now! And don’t put the blame on me.”

Bursting into tears, the scholar said, “Yes, my bad luck landed me in this mess. I know you won’t let me go. I’m a dead man. But could you please allow me to get drunk first? After I pass out from drinking, I won’t feel the pain when you cut off my head. I’ve been a longtime friend of yours. Don’t you have any pity for me?”

Recalling his friendship with Scholar Zheng, Guangming granted his piteous plea. He locked the scholar in the room and, knife in hand, went to the kitchen, where he picked up a large tin flask of wine. After he returned to the room, filled a large bowl with the wine, and offered it to Scholar Zheng, the scholar said, “I can hardly swallow the wine without some pickles to help it go down. Please do me this favor!” Again, Guangming obliged him and went to the kitchen to get pickles. In the meantime, Scholar Zheng thought, “Since I won’t be able to make it out of this place, let me find something to hit him with when he’s not on his guard.” The room was furnished with only light and exquisite items, with no bricks, rocks, or cudgels to be had, but the large wine flask gave him an idea. (MC: Desperation feeds inspiration.) He tore off a strip of fabric from his robe and hurriedly stuffed it tightly into the mouth of the flask, which, heavy with wine, weighed about five or six catties. Holding it in one hand, he positioned himself behind the door.

When Guangming pushed the door open with his body, Scholar Zheng aimed the flask at the spot where he thought the monk’s shaved head should be and struck down with all his might. Guangming was hit right on the head. His head spinning and his vision turning blurry, Guangming quickly raised a hand to feel his head, only to be hit two or three more times on the head. With a thud, Guangming fell unconscious to the floor. Taking advantage of the situation, Scholar Zheng whacked the monk’s head dozens of times as if he were washing clothes by pounding them with a wooden club. Guangming’s brain matter splattered out, and death overtook him.

Scholar Zheng locked the corpse in the room (MC: A man of action.) and walked out of the monastery, unobserved. In all haste, he went to report the matter to the county yamen. The magistrate forthwith dispatched runners plus a team of officers to the monastery. Upon arrival, some of the men stood guard outside the room, while the others burst in. All they saw was a monk, his head battered, lying dead in a pool of blood in that small room, but there was no woman to be found.

At this point, Scholar Zheng said with a grin, “I know how to bring her out.” So saying, he took the wooden fish down from the bed curtain hook. He struck it twice, and, sure enough, a bell rang, a panel of the floor was pushed up, and a woman emerged. The officers gave a shout and held the panel before it went down again. As the woman shrank back, the officers followed her down and found themselves in a tiled cellar with bars on all sides and a window facing a courtyard enclosed by a stone wall. It was a place that outsiders had never visited.

The five or six women in the cellar were led out one by one. Queries as to their backgrounds revealed that they were all village women who had been abducted and brought to this place. Scholar Zheng’s cousin had been offering incense and praying for a son when the monks got her sedan-chair carriers drunk and spirited her inside. Her family had filed a complaint with the yamen, and the two sedan-chair carriers remained in jail. Guangming had not been charged because of his connections and the lack of evidence against him, but was the one who had held her all this time. The county magistrate ordered that all the monks involved be executed.

Gentle reader, wouldn’t you agree that monks, well fed and clad and sleeping under fine quilts in clean rooms—all thanks to donations from everywhere—have nothing else to occupy their minds than that business? Although they do find release with a young page boy or two, as the proverb puts it, “Steamed buns are poor substitutes for rice.” And to make matters worse, our women choose to visit monasteries to offer incense and pay homage to the Buddha. (MC: Womenfolk, mark these words!) With the women parading themselves in front of the monks, how would the latter not long for the prettier ones in the still of the night? So they try every conceivable means of indulging in debauchery, a crime that by itself is serious enough to justify the death sentence. And then, as they say, “No shave, no knave. No knave, no shave. The cleaner the shave, the bigger the knave. The bigger the knave, the cleaner the shave.” Acts of debauchery all too often lead to fierce fights, murder, and arson. Let’s take, for example, that monk of Lin’an in the story above. Given his friendship with Scholar Zheng, he needed only to beg the scholar or pay him not to let on to anyone about the secret. Surely it was not something for which one would go so far as to kill, and it all ended in his own death. This serves to show that divine justice does catch up with those monks who can be so diabolical even when unprovoked.

I now propose to tell of an even more diabolical monk. Please lend me your ears! There is a poem in testimony:

Murder follows on the heels of adultery;

What adds fuel to the fire is jealousy.

Had the crime not come to light through a young man,

With what shall we warn against lust and evil?

The story tells that in Wenchuan County of Chengdu Prefecture, Sichuan, there lived a farmer named Jin Qing. His wife, Du-shi, who had some claim to beauty, yearned for romance. She did not get along well with her husband, whom she found too rough-hewn and uncultured. Day after day, she kept making grievances out of nothing. (MC: Digging her own grave.) One day, after an altercation, she went in a huff to her parents’ house, where she stayed for about ten days. After a great deal of coaxing on her parents’ part, her anger subsided, and she decided to go back to her husband. The two residences were only a little more than three li apart, and Du-shi often walked back and forth by herself. But something was destined to happen that day. She was on her way when she was caught in a downpour. She had no rain gear with her, and, being in the middle of nowhere, she could find no shelter. At this point, the ringing of bells came to her ears from afar. She noticed a small trail leading to a monastery. She was thus obliged to make a detour in the rain and go to the monastery for shelter, intending to resume her walk home after the rain stopped.

That monastery, called “Peace Monastery,” was located in a deserted place. There were about ten monks residing in the monastery. Occupying the cells by the gate were an old monk Dajue, who made all the decisions, and his two young disciples—fresh-faced and winsome—Zhiyuan, his darling, and Huiguan, a novice only eleven or twelve years old. At age fifty-seven or fifty-eight, Dajue’s carnal desires remained as unbridled as those of a young man. Every night, he slept with Zhiyuan in his arms. Whenever the two of them brought up the subject of feminine charms, they would be aroused and amuse themselves with the other’s male member. Their depravity defies description.

That day, the two of them were standing idly at the gate when suddenly they saw a beautiful woman enter to take shelter from the rain. Like a mouse delivering itself to a cat’s mouth, she ignited a flame in their hearts. The old monk darted a meaningful look at Zhiyuan and said, “The bodhisattva Guanyin is here. Give her a proper greeting.”

Zhiyuan walked up to Du-shi and asked ingratiatingly, “Young lady, might you be here to wait out the rain?”

“Yes. I was on the road and got caught in the rain. I’d like to stay here for shelter for a while.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Zhiyuan said, “The rain isn’t likely to stop any time soon. There are no chairs here, and we can’t let you remain standing. Please take a seat in a room inside and enjoy a cup of tea before you resume your journey when the rain stops.”

If she had been a woman of moral rectitude, she would have ignored the suggestion and remained standing outside until the rain stopped and she could resume her walk. A monk’s cell is not a place for just anyone. Unfortunately, Du-shi was a sensual woman and had taken a fancy to the good-looking, fair-complexioned, and articulate young monk. She thought, “Why stand here with nothing to do while waiting out the downpour? There can be no harm in taking him up on his offer and sitting inside.” Step by step, she followed the young monk into the monastery.

Now that the woman was on her way in, the old monk rushed inside to get ahead of her, so as to open the bedroom door and lie in wait. (MC: The old monk is burning with impatience.) The young monk kept exchanging glances with Du-shi as he led her in. After Du-shi sat down inside, the novice served tea on a tray. Zhiyuan picked a fine porcelain teacup, smoothed out his sleeves, and offered her the cup with his own hands. Du-shi hastened to take it and felt even more attracted to Zhiyuan, with his graceful manners. In her distraction, as she stole glances at him, she spilled her tea all over her sleeve. Zhiyuan said, “Young lady, your sleeve got wet with tea. Please go to an inner room to dry it over the brazier.”

On hearing his offer to take her to an inner room, Du-shi gained a pretty good idea of his intentions. Since an inner room was where she wanted to go anyway, she did not demur but asked which room it was. Zhiyuan took her to his master’s bedroom, knowing that his master must be waiting inside. He was determined to defer to his master. Once Du-shi was in the room, he said, pointing to the brazier, “Please put your sleeve on it. A fire is going inside.” With that, he withdrew from the door.

Puzzled by the young monk’s withdrawal, Du-shi thought, “Maybe he doesn’t dare to make a rash move.” She was about to put her sleeve over the brazier when she saw an old monk jump out from behind the bed. As he took her into his arms, she screamed like a pig about to be slaughtered. The old monk said, “There’s no one around to hear you. It’s useless to scream. Why did you enter my room in the first place?”

Du-shi tried to dash out of the room, but the young monk had thoughtfully locked the door from the outside. The old monk seized her and rubbed his member against her through their clothes (MC: Burning with impatience.), and Du-shi was slightly aroused as she tried to fight him off. “Where has the young monk gone?” asked she. “Why are you replacing him?”

“So you fancy my disciple? He’s my darling. After you and I are done, I’ll call him in for some fun with you.”

Du-shi thought, “I had my eye on that young one. Too bad this old geezer is attaching himself to me. But things having come to this, I guess there’s no getting out of it. I might just as well get him off my hands first. The young one will then surely be mine.” So thinking, she reluctantly allowed herself to be carried to the bed and began to cavort with the old monk.

He was on fire, his moves hurried and brusque;

She was bored and passively went through the motions.

By destiny, he took what came to him;

By chance, she became a flower of the wrong owner.

He, all eagerness, moved like the bellows;

She, in her boredom, took him for a bag of blood.

Though he was uncouth and unromantic,

She did have fun, albeit unfulfilling.

The old monk’s energy was not equal to his lust. When he had first tried to embrace her over her objections, he had already discharged some semen, and he ejaculated soon after intercourse began. Du-shi was displeased with him in the first place, and his poor performance added to her disappointment. As she rose and tied her skirt, she grumbled, “Why would such a useless old thing want to harass women and make a fool of himself ?”

Knowing he had spoiled her fun, the old monk felt quite put out and quickly told his disciple to open the door. When the door swung open, Zhiyuan greeted his master and asked, “How was it?”

The old monk said, “She’s delicious! Too bad I failed to perform and made a fool of myself.”

“Let me add to the fun!” said Zhiyuan. He rushed into the room, closed the door, turned around, and gathered Du-shi into his arms, saying, “My darling, how you suffered at that old geezer’s hands!”

Du-shi said, “You lured me into the room but set that old thing on me!”

“He’s my master! What can I do? But do let me make it up to you!” As he tried to carry her to bed, she demurred, feeling humiliated by her experience with the old monk, and said, “The way you, master and disciple, take turns harassing a woman, don’t you have any sense of shame?”

“My master was the vanguard and the first one to perish, but you and I are a perfect match in age and looks. Let’s not miss out on this predestined bond!” With a plop, he fell to his knees.

Du-shi raised him to his feet and explained, “I said those words out of resentment against that old thing for going ahead of you and insulting me. In fact, I do love you!”

In the excitement of the moment, Zhiyuan held her tightly, planted a kiss on her lips, and began to sport with her in bed. This encounter was of quite a different order from the last one.

He, in the presence of a beauty,

Was like a hungry tiger attacking a sheep.

She, in her longing for the young man,

Was like a thirsty dragon at the water’s edge.

The lusty farmer’s wife was hungry for sex;

The monk showed his prowess as a veteran.

One took, the other gave; neither gave in.

One came, the other went; both tried their hardest.

The old monk may have had a head start, but

The disciple was the one who carried the day.

In the prime of his youthful prowess, Zhiyuan was a bundle of energy. Du-shi delighted in his good looks, and both had such a passion for each other that they did not stop until more than two hours later. Fully satisfied, Du-shi said, “I’ve long heard about monks’ prowess. (MC: That’s why she so readily entered the monastery.) That old thing is a disgrace, but I had no idea you were so delightful. I’ll sleep with you tonight right here.”

“I’m so glad you don’t find me beneath you, but which family are you from? Would it be all right if you stay here?”

“My maiden name is Du. My husband’s surname is Jing. The Jing residence is nearby. I had a spat with my husband the other day, so I went back to my parents’ house and stayed there for a few days. I was on my way back to the Jing residence when I was caught in the rain and came here to stay out of the rain. That’s how I met you, my sweet foe! The Jings don’t know about my return, and they don’t communicate with my parents. So no one will be any the wiser if I stay here secretly for a couple of days.”

“I’m a lucky man!” exclaimed Zhiyuan. “Let’s make a night of it! But my master will want to share the bed with us.”

“I don’t want that old thing!”

“But he’s the one who calls the shots around here. We can’t turn him away. You only need to go through the motions to get him off your hands.”

“But I’ll be too bashful! How can three people do it together?”

“The old one has more lust than prowess. We’ll do it together by turns. If he doesn’t perform, you’ll be through with him. The two of us will then be able to enjoy ourselves and just let him be.”

The two of them hit it off so well that they went on talking, leaving the old monk standing outside. As he listened for the longest time to the noises emanating from the bed, he regretted having finished the job too quickly without much enjoyment, and he was consumed with jealousy at the way they were having fun. His patience was wearing thin, but his disciple still failed to make an appearance. Unable to bear the suspense any longer, he opened the door and barged in, only to see the two in a tight embrace, their tongues in each other’s mouths. The old monk felt his temper rising. (MC: He doesn’t know his own limits.) He thought, “She wasn’t that passionate with me!” With a twinge of jealousy, he shouted, “Now that you’ve had a taste of the sweetness, it’s time to work out a long-term plan. How can you go on sleeping in broad daylight behind a closed door?”

At this outburst from his master, Zhiyuan said, all smiles, “For your information, Master, it’s going to be a long-lasting sweetness.”

“What do you mean?” asked the old monk.

“She’s staying the night.”

Putting on a smile, the old monk said, “We’re not letting go of her, anyway.”

“If we force her to stay here, we’ll have to watch out for trouble. But she volunteered the idea, so we have nothing to worry about.”

“Which family is she from?”

After Zhiyuan repeated Du-shi’s words to him, the old monk jubilantly went off, in a hurry to prepare supper. Then the three of them shared a table in that very room and ate their supper. Not much of a drinker, Du-shi declined the old monk’s offers of wine but drained the cup that Zhiyuan handed her. While seated at the table, she and Zhiyuan kept exchanging sickeningly amorous glances. The old monk awkwardly made passes at her, but all his lewd remarks fell flat. (MC: Du-shi, the farmer’s wife, is too straightforward and does not know how to feign cordiality. She is to suffer the consequences.) Her iciness toward him was not lost on the old monk, but like a dog trying to lick a plate of hot food, he just would not let go. After the table was cleared, he unabashedly went to share the bed with the other two.

Once in bed, Du-shi and the young monk fell into a tight embrace and paid no attention to the old one. Having ejaculated earlier in the day, the old monk was not able to get that member of his up again. He meant to wait until their shenanigans aroused him. Sure enough, the noises those two made so excited him that he planted a kiss here and there and inserted an arm left and right. He masturbated with one hand and caressed their crotches with the other. When he felt his lust stirring, he tried to push the young man aside and spring into action himself. However, Zhiyuan, carried away in his enjoyment, would have none of it. And with Du-shi enfolding the young man in her arms, the old monk failed to dislodge him. The young monk cried, “Master, I can’t stop now! If you’re enjoying the moment, why don’t you amuse yourself with me?”

“No!” said the old monk. “Why should I forage in my own kitchen when there’s wild game to be had?”

As the old man kept applying his mouth and his hands (MC: Really disgusting!), the young monk saw no choice but to dismount Du-shi and yield to him. Greatly displeased, Du-shi vented her ill humor on the old man and dodged resentfully each time he thrust. The old monk had been in a frenzy of desire, and now, unable to hold himself in any longer, he ejaculated while gasping for breath and went limp. Du-shi said with a scornful smile, “Why even bother?”

Smarting from the humiliation, the old monk dared not utter a word. Gloomily, he turned to face the wall so as to yield the rest of the bed to those two for another round of heated battle. In their youth, they went on and on, stopping only for a little nap before resuming. The old monk could do nothing more than swallow his own drool and continue to make disgusting moves.

Du-shi rose at daybreak and, after she had done her hair and washed, said to Zhiyuan, “I’m going home today.”

Zhiyuan objected, “Didn’t you say yesterday that you could stay for a couple of days? What’s more, this is an out-of-the-way place. No one will know. You and I are at the height of our enjoyment of each other. How can you have the heart to go? What a thing to say!”

In a subdued voice, Du-shi said, “It’s not that I want to leave you. It’s just that I can’t stand that old geezer. If you want to keep me, let’s take up the whole bed, just the two of us, without him!”

“He won’t hear of it.”

“In that case, I’ll have to go.”

Left without a choice, Zhiyuan went to his master and said, “Madam Du wants to leave. What’s to be done?”

The old monk said, “I thought she was quite attached to you. Why would she want to go?”

“Being from a good family, she’s a little too shy for a threesome. That’s why she wants to leave. As I see it, it may be better if I set up a bed in the opposite room and spend a night or two with her there, to trick her into staying longer. You, Master, can make your move when the timing is right. After she gets more used to us, we can take our time and make it a threesome. Otherwise, it will be in no one’s interests if we ruffle her feathers and make her leave.”

These words reminded the old monk of his unfulfilled desires and the nuisance he had made of himself when all three of them were sharing the same bed. That was not much fun, but he was also afraid that, with her gone, there would be even less chance for fun. He thought, “It might be better to let the two of them do their thing behind my back. Once in a while, I can go to that room and have her for myself for a whole night. That will be just as well. Why make a pest of myself ?” Aloud, he said to Zhiyuan, “That’s a good idea. As long as she stays, both you and I will get to have some fun. What’s more, you’re my darling. Your happiness is also mine.” While mouthing these words, the old monk was hiding his pangs of jealousy, but he saw no other way than to grant Zhiyuan’s request. He would wait and see.

Imagine Du-shi’s joy when Zhiyuan told her that the old monk had approved his request to set up a separate bed! So she stayed, looking forward to the nocturnal unions of delight.

When night fell, the old monk called Zhiyuan to him and gave him these words of instruction: “I’m going to store up my energy tonight. You two have a good time. Be sure to use sweet talk and make her stay. But give her to me tomorrow.”

“Of course! If I don’t stay with her and if last night’s foul-up repeats itself, everyone loses, and we won’t be able to keep her. Let me get to know her better so that you’ll surely find her to your liking when I lead her to you.”

“Now you’re talking, my darling!”

And so Zhiyuan went to Du-shi’s room, closed the door, and went to bed. That night, free from all restraints, they enjoyed themselves to the full.

In the meantime, the old man, who had granted the young man’s request because he was afraid that the woman would leave, spent the night alone in his room in the absence, not only of the woman, but also of his disciple.

Already vexed at his loneliness, he was kept all the more wakeful by the thought of those two enjoying themselves, and he spent the whole night tossing and turning and pounding his bed. After rising the next morning, he said to Zhiyuan, “What a good time you must have had! Leaving me by my forlorn self in my room!”

“But that was the only way to keep her here.”

“It’s my turn to have some fun tonight!” declared the old monk.

When night came on, Zhiyuan dared not contradict his master and tried to talk Du-shi into entering the old man’s room. Du-shi adamantly refused, saying, “I told you I’d only stay with you. Why do you want me to be with that disgusting old thing?”

“But he’s my master!”

“I’m not married to your master. Why should I be afraid of him? If you press me too hard, I’ll go back home before the night is out!”

Knowing her disinclination full well, Zhiyuan said to his master, “She’s still a little shy and refuses to come to you, Master. Why don’t you go to her room instead?”

Heeding his advice, the old monk groped his way into the room. Du-shi was already in bed, waiting for Zhiyuan to come and go into action. When the old monk jumped into bed, she thought he was Zhiyuan. When she clasped him to her bosom and kissed him on the mouth, the old man felt as if all his bones had melted. Realizing her mistake when they began to do what he was there to do, Du-shi lashed out: “It’s you again, you disgusting old thing! Why do you have to torment me like this?”

Not knowing any better, the old monk thrust with all the force he could muster, hoping to please her, but having overexerted himself, he burst into gasps. Du-shi had been slightly aroused by his mighty thrusts, but now that the battle was called off, she knew he was about to ejaculate. Bitterly disappointed, she turned on her side and savagely pushed him off the bed onto the floor. (MC: She does have a savage streak in her.) As a consequence, the old monk’s sticky seminal fluid spilled all over the edge of the bed and his legs.

Scrambling to his feet, the old monk thought, “What a vicious woman she is!” Burning with hatred, he headed for his own room. Noticing his master’s departure, Zhiyuan dived in to fill the vacuum. Vexed because her desires, stirred up by the old monk, were still unfulfilled, Du-shi was overjoyed that Zhiyuan had come to slake her thirst. Finding no time to talk, they fell into each other’s arms and started afresh.

While they were thus engaged in feverish activity, the old monk thought, his anger unabated, “They’re having a merry time of it while I’m here all alone. Let me go and listen to what’s going on.” When he walked up to the door and heard the earth-shaking noises from the bed, he said to himself, rubbing his fists in rage, “That woman is so unfair! Why can’t she spare some of her sweetness for me, so that I can get a share of the delight? Oh well, I’ll let them be for now, but tomorrow, woe to everyone!” Moodily, he went to sleep.

On waking up the next morning, the old monk felt that his member had started to itch and hurt. When he urinated, only a few drops trickled out. What had happened was that as a result of his fall from bed the night before, the flow of his seminal fluid was blocked and had caused inflammation. All the more enraged, he said to himself, “That evil woman ruined me!”

After Du-shi rose, the old monk cheekily made a few flirting remarks to her, but her stony silence embarrassed him. As he watched her and Zhiyuan merrily whispering to each other, malice filled his heart.

When evening closed in on them, Zhiyuan said to Du-shi, “Let me go to the old man first and tire him out, so as to spare you from his torment.”

“Go quickly. I’ll be waiting for you in bed,” said Du-shi.

Once in the old monk’s room, Zhiyuan said, assuming his usual seductive air, “I’m sorry for having abandoned you, Master, for two nights. Let me sleep with you tonight.”

“Isn’t there a woman here? Why should we go back to our old ways? Get her in here. I want her company tonight.”

“She won’t listen to me. You’ll have to go ask her yourself.”

The old monk said savagely, “She won’t refuse me tonight!” He went straight to the kitchen and picked up a kitchen knife before he entered Du-shi’s room, thinking, “If she still doesn’t know what’s good for her, I’ll bump her off !”

Zhiyuan having been gone for quite a while, Du-shi thought he had pacified his master. When she heard footsteps approaching her bed, she thought it was Zhiyuan. “My love!” she cried out. “Close the door, quick! I’d hate to see that disgusting old thing again!”

Having heard the words all too clearly, the old monk exploded with rage. He said sharply, “The disgusting old thing insists that you sleep with him tonight!” So saying, he reached out and tried to drag her off the bed.

Alarmed by his vehemence, Du-shi said, “How can you get violent? I’m simply not going!” As the old monk strove with might and main to pull her off, she desperately clung to the bed, crying, “I’m not going even if you kill me!”

In a boiling rage, the old monk said, “If you insist, try a taste of my knife! That way, no one gets to have fun!” He pinned her neck down and struck. Being at the height of his anger, he struck hard and cut through her throat. Du-shi twitched a couple of times and died.

After the old monk left his room, Zhiyuan lay down in bed to await word from his master. Then he heard cries from the opposite room, followed by thumping sounds. Full of misgivings, he rushed out to see what was happening and ran square into the old monk on his way out of her room, knife in hand. On seeing Zhiyuan, he said, “That filthy woman was so hateful! I’ve made short work of her!”

Appalled, Zhiyuan said, “Master, did you really?”

“I sure did! Did you expect me to let you have all the fun for yourself ?” (MC: Zhiyuan is also in danger.)

Zhiyuan took a lamp and went into the room to see for himself. With a mournful shriek, he said, “Master! How could you have been so ruthless!”

“That filthy woman rejected me, so I did it in a rush of rage. Don’t blame me. Now that things have come to this, there’s no time to lose. Put the body away. I’ll find a good replacement for you to enjoy soon enough.”

Reduced to silence in spite of his grief, Zhiyuan put the corpse on his back, followed the old monk’s instructions, dug a grave with an iron spade, and buried Du-shi. Shedding furtive tears, Zhiyuan thought, “Had I foreseen this, I would have let her go home, and she wouldn’t have died!”

Afraid that Zhiyuan might be upset, the old monk went out of his way to please him, and what had happened remained a watertight secret. The little novice did wonder at the woman’s disappearance, but being a mere child, he asked no questions. So no one was any the wiser, but we will not pursue this thread of the story for the moment.

Let us turn our attention now to Du-shi’s parents. After their daughter had been gone for two or three days, they wondered if she had warmed up to her husband again. (MC: She warmed up to a monk.) So they sent a servant to the Jing residence to make inquiries. It just so happened that the Jing family had sent a servant to the Du residence to bring Du-shi home, and both went away empty-handed. The Jing family accused the Dus of having married Du-shi to someone else because the couple did not get along, and the Du family accused the Jings of having secretly done away with their daughter for the same reason. Entangled in mutual recriminations, both lodged formal complaints with the county yamen.

The post of county magistrate was vacant at the time, with only the judge of the county military commission in charge. Lin Dahe by name and a native of Fujian, the judge had been but a student at the Imperial Academy, but he had proved himself to be a competent official with a keen intellect. When he called the two families together for questioning, Jing Qing said, “My wife and I quarreled, and she returned to her parents in a huff. My father-in-law hid her instead of returning her to me. He means to play me false. Please uphold the law for us, Your Honor!”

Mr. Du said, “It’s true that she returned to us after a quarrel with her husband and stayed for a few days. Then, three days ago, my wife and I managed to talk her out of her anger and sent her off to her husband. But they must have gotten into another fight, and she must have been tormented to death. And now the Jings have turned the tables on us! Please do right by us, Your Honor!” Having said that, Mr. Du broke down in a flood of tears.

Impressed by Jing Qing’s look of a simple and honest farmer with none of the air of an evil man, Judge Lin asked him, “Why don’t you get along with your wife?”

“It’s just that that she finds me uncouth and not to her taste. That’s why she always picks quarrels with me.”

“What does your wife look like?”

“She’s a pretty woman.”

The judge nodded. Then he called Mr. Du forth and asked him, “Your daughter is displeased with this match and looks down on her husband. You and your wife, as her parents, are naturally willing to overlook her faults. Could it be that you’re telling a lie so that she can remarry? Such things do happen.”

Mr. Du said, “My house being so near my son-in-law’s house, how would we be able to conceal a thing like a marriage? And I don’t have the heart to hide her in order to marry her off secretly to someone in a faraway place and never see her again. One’s marriage status is something that’s known to all. How could I ever dream of doing a thing like that? Why would I hide her? The only explanation for her disappearance is that the Jing family has done her in.”

Judge Lin reflected for a while before saying, “No, that’s not it either. She must have met with some mishap on her way home when neither of you two families were in touch with her. I’ll let you out on bail and notify you upon completion of the investigations.” He issued an order for extensive investigations and sent detectives out in all directions. Much time went by with no news.

The county yamen had a gatekeeper by the name of Yu. At twenty years of age, he was a delight to the eye and possessed a shrewd brain. Fujian natives tend to be attracted to male beauty, so it goes without saying that Judge Lin was quite taken with him. As was only to be expected, the gatekeeper was made presumptuous by the favor Judge Lin showed him and engaged in some improper behavior. One day, his wrongdoing was exposed right there in the courtroom. Judge Lin did want to exonerate the young man, but he could find no reason that would be credible in the eyes of the law. (MC: An official with a regard for the eyes of the law is a good official.) So he thought up a plan to help him out, so that he could gain a credit to offset his offense. In secret, he summoned the gatekeeper to his office and said, “You should be fired because of your offense. There will be a lot of gossip in the yamen if I go easy on you, so I have to dismiss you from the yamen and post the notification on the wall to stop tongues from wagging.”

On hearing that he was to lose his job, the gatekeeper began to kowtow nonstop, saying he was willing to accept the punishment. The judge said, “It’s not what you think. I mean to help you. There has to be an explanation for the disappearance of that Du woman. Now, I want you to run away from the yamen, ostensibly because you offended me. But in fact, I want you to investigate on the quiet. Search for clues at every place along the road between the two houses, be it a village, a marketplace, a temple, or a monastery. You’ll surely find something. If you offer me information, I’ll not only reinstate you but also give you a hefty reward. When that happens, I’ll be above reproach.”

Seeing no other way, the gatekeeper acknowledged the order and went off. Indeed, he made inquiries everywhere. Being but a boy, he did not come under suspicion when he chatted with people and watched their expressions. But he found out nothing.

One day, seeing a group of good-for-nothing loafers gathered together gossiping, the gatekeeper drew near them to listen to what they were saying. One of the men saw him and commented surreptitiously to the others, “What a good-looking young man!”

Another man said, “A young monk of nearby Peace Monastery is even prettier. (MC: Two threads of the story are nicely joined together.) Too bad his master the old monk is lecherous and jealous. A real scoundrel.”

The gatekeeper feigned a lack of interest on hearing this and nonchalantly walked away while saying to himself, “What kind of young monk is he to be worthy of such praise? Why don’t I go seek him out?”

The gatekeeper was an expert in matters concerning sexual relations, and that mention of the young monk’s good looks piqued his interest. So he asked the way to Peace Monastery. On entering the gate, sure enough, he saw a young monk with extraordinarily fine and delicate features sitting on the threshold. “This must be him,” thought the gatekeeper.

The sight of a good-looking youth also raised a flutter in the young monk’s heart. He stood up to greet Yu the gatekeeper, saying, “Brother, what brings you here?”

“I’m here just to while away some time.”

The young monk eagerly invited him in and served him tea. Liking the monk for his prepossessing exterior, the gatekeeper merrily followed him in. On seeing his disciple leading a young man inside, the old monk knew that he was in for a treat. Beaming with delight, he asked the young man his name and where he lived.

The gatekeeper replied, “I used to be a gatekeeper at the yamen, but I was fired for some reason or another, and I’m wandering about because I have nowhere to go.”

The old monk was ecstatic. “We do have a nice room for you,” said he. “We won’t mind if you stay for a few days.” And so he and his disciple kept the young man and danced attendance on him, offering him tea and wine. On the strength of two cups of wine, the old monk spirited the gatekeeper into his room, took off his trousers, and had his way with the young man. The gatekeeper was an old hand at this business and tolerated the old man, unlike that picky village woman who had not seen much of the world. The old monk was beside himself with joy.

Gentle reader, mark this: It is the poorly endowed who are partial to men. You may ask why. Well, the man at the receiving end tends to go through it grudgingly, without much enjoyment, and doesn’t mind the degree of firmness of the you-know-what or how long the game lasts. He is just glad when it’s over. That is why men are easier to deal with. (MC: A thorough explanation.) But a woman, when aroused, can be displeased if the man stops halfway there. She can grow frantic and is therefore difficult to please. With men, however, it is possible to derive fun on one’s own. This time, the old monk was satisfied.

After the game was over, Zhiyuan came to say to him, “I led the little brother in, but you got to enjoy him first. He belongs to me tonight.”

The old monk laughed and said, “Of course, of course.”

The gatekeeper did wish to stay in the monastery, and so he slept with Zhiyuan that night, as attested by this quatrain:

Neither young man let the other off—

First one, then the other.

Zhiyuan may have been the first to go;

Courtesy demanded taking turns.

As is said in the above quatrain, the two handsome young men took turns and went to sleep in each other’s arms.

The next day, the old monk came again to make advances to the gatekeeper and tried to drag him to his own room for another go. In spite of his harrowing experience last time, Zhiyuan, surprisingly, grew jealous and said, “In all fairness, this little brother should be mine. You shouldn’t snatch him away from me.”

“Why not?”

“You always find release in me, but I don’t have any outlet, and I have a hard time suppressing my desires. The one who was here some time ago was good enough, but you made a mess of the whole thing and put a stop to it. Now that I’ve brought this little brother here, it’s only right that I should have some fun with him. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

The old monk was infuriated by the young man’s uncompromising tone, but he felt that he was in no position to give the young man offense. Both sulked and felt low.

The gatekeeper, with an ax to grind, asked Zhiyuan at night at the height of their sport, “You said earlier today about someone good enough and something that the old one made a mess of. Tell me more!”

Quite carried away by the ecstasy of the moment, Zhiyuan blurted out, “Some time ago, we asked a woman who lived nearby to stay with us, just to have some fun, and what fun it was! But who would have thought that the old thing would get jealous because she preferred me. He made a mess of things. To this day, I still feel bad.”

“Where is that woman now? Why don’t you bring her here again?”

With a sigh, Zhiyuan said, “Where is she to be found?”

Detecting a clue in these words, the gatekeeper tried to probe deeper, but to his frustration, Zhiyuan clammed up.

The next day, seeing the little novice all alone, the gatekeeper asked him in a low voice, “Was there a woman in this monastery some time ago?”

“Yes,” replied the novice.

“How long did she stay here?”

“Just a few days.”

“Where has she gone?”

“She didn’t go anywhere. She just disappeared one night.”

“What did she do when she was here?”

“I don’t know. I only saw the old master and the young master busying themselves for two nights, and then, after she disappeared, they had a lot to say to each other. I have no idea what happened.”

Although he did not get very far with his questions, the gatekeeper felt sure that he was on to something. Feigning unconcern, he walked up to the two monks and said, “I’ve been here two days now. I’d like to take a walk outside. I’ll be back soon.”

The old man said, “Be sure to come back! Don’t just go away!”

Throwing the gatekeeper a meaningful glance, Zhiyuan said with a grin, “He won’t go away. He can bear to part with you but not with me.”

The gatekeeper also gave a Zhiyuan a knowing look and said, “I’ll be back soon enough.”

After passing through the gate of the monastery, the gatekeeper went straight to Judge Lin and repeated the words of Zhiyuan and the novice to him. With a nod, Judge Lin said, “Yes, that explains it! But it looks like the woman died at the hands of those evil monks. Otherwise, if she wasn’t in the monastery three days later, why wasn’t she at home either? Where else could she have gone? The case has been dragging on for half a year now, but she’s still nowhere to be seen.” Then he admonished the gatekeeper, “Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

Early the next morning, Judge Lin mounted his sedan-chair and went to the monastery with an entourage. At his behest, the forerunner went to the monastery first and announced, “Judge Lin had a dream and is on his way to offer incense at the monastery.”

Thereupon, all the monks in the monastery assembled to greet the judge. After he stepped down from his sedan-chair, he bowed to the Buddha’s image and offered incense, and the abbot served him tea. As he walked down the dais, on either side of which stood the monks, Judge Lin raised his head to look upward, as if to listen to someone talking. After a while, he suddenly bowed, as if to someone in midair, and said, “Your subject understands.” Then he raised his head again and said with another bow, “Your subject now knows who he is.” With brisk steps, he went up the dais again and thundered, “Yamen runners! Arrest the murderer!”

The yamen runners acknowledged the order with a roar. Judge Lin took a furtive look around the hall and saw that the monks were somewhat surprised but remained standing respectfully without looking disconcerted. There was one exception: a monk past middle age went pale, his teeth clattering as if he felt cold. Pointing a finger at him, Judge Lin ordered the runners to tie him up. “Did you see?” he addressed the assembly of monks. “The Lord on High told me, ‘The murderer of Du-shi, Mrs. Jing, is that man called Dajue.’ Out with the truth now!”

The unsuspecting monks were impressed. They thought, “His Honor has never been here before. How did he know Dajue’s name? All too clearly, the Lord on High did indeed speak to him.” Little did they know that the information had been acquired by the gatekeeper and reported to him in advance.

Caught by surprise, the old monk was not in the least prepared. Believing that the Lord on High was manifesting his power, the old monk was frightened out of his senses and could not manage to say anything in his own defense. He made one kowtow after another but was unable to get one word out. On Judge Lin’s orders, the squeezers were applied to him. Sure enough, he confessed everything about how he and Zhiyuan had fornicated with the same woman and how his jealousy had led to murder. Judge Lin then ordered that the squeezers be applied to Zhiyuan as well. Of delicate build, the young monk was even less ready for it. Before the squeezers were tightened on him, he came out with the truth. “Yes, my master murdered her. The corpse is buried in the backyard.”

On Judge Lin’s orders, the runners marched the two monks to the backyard and began to dig. They did unearth the bloody corpse of a woman with a broken neck. Judge Lin barked orders for the two monks to be taken back to the county yamen, where he had their confessions recorded and put on file. Dajue was sentenced to death for the crimes of fornication and murder. Zhiyuan was sentenced to three years in prison for the crimes of fornication and failure to report a murder. After completing the prison term, he was to return to secular life and work as a servant. The judge then summoned the Jings and the Dus and had them identify and claim the corpse and make arrangements for its burial. Only then were the two families’ suspicions of each other dispelled.

Judge Lin gave Gatekeeper Yu a handsome reward and reinstated him. People of the entire county praised Judge Lin for his divine wisdom and condemned the monks for their depravity. Later, with the approval of higher authorities, the old monk was executed after the Autumn Assizes, to everyone’s gratification. Word got around that Judge Lin, with his abundant intelligence, could communicate with the Lord on High (MC: So gullible are the general populace.) and had solved a baffling case. To this day, this story is still in wide circulation in Sichuan, as the following poem attests:

The farmer’s wife was too picky about men;

The sex fiend in his jealousy was too savage.

The wise Judge Lin put the gatekeeper to use

And staged a show to fool the monks.