2 SEEKING ESCAPE FROM SAMSARA, THE CRANE BOY IS REBORN

I sigh at the bustling business of the world,

I laugh at this floating life, so like a restless shuttle shooting back and forth.

Their sable coats dyed,

Their teams of horses moving in a stately manner,

People fight for fame and grasp for profit without pause for thought,

Caught in reckless thoughts, greed, and anger, and deranged by their lack of human feelings.

Heroes may have arisen and fallen since olden times,

And poor scholars still keep to their own cold windows day and night.

All this is still no match for a ride on the clouds and mists,

Seeking out a recipe for long life without death.

After Master Lü had banished the musk deer to the bottom of the lake by the Xiang River, the celestial general bowed with folded hands, reported on his mission, and left. Master Zhong then took a golden elixir pill from his bottle-gourd and gave it to the crane to eat. The crane forthwith changed his form and became a young lad clothed in a green robe. Together with his two immortal teachers, he proceeded to Changli County in Yongping Prefecture.

Just as they approached the gate of the Han family’s mansion, it so happened that Han Tuizhi came out to greet a visitor at the door. The two immortal masters saw that his countenance was dignified and his clothes were orderly and proper. Invisible to all but them, above his head there was a rosy ray of light, and he was followed by a boy carrying an incense pot. They knew right away that he was Chonghezi, the Attendant Great General of the Left, who had been banished to be reborn in this family because of his drunken and disruptive behavior at the immortality peach banquet. Unfortunately, unaware of his previous existence, he later would turn to slandering Daoism and criticizing Buddhism.

The two immortals turned around and conferred with each other. “Chonghezi is already nearly forty years old, yet he still hasn’t looked back and become awakened. If he again falls into the fiery pit, into this bustling world full of greed, hankering, and distractions, there may be no escape for him. His older brother Han Hui burns incense and lights candles all day long, praying for a son. Let’s go back and submit a memorial to the Jade Emperor, proposing to give the crane boy to Han Hui as a son. Once he has grown up, we will come again to deliver him so that he may become an immortal and complete the Way. Then he in turn can deliver Chonghezi so that he may resume his original position. Wouldn’t that solve two problems in one stroke?”

Having made their decision, the two masters turned their cloud around and ascended to the heavenly realm, taking the crane boy along. In no time at all they arrived at the Gate of Southern Heaven and reported on their mission, describing how they had received the imperial commission, traveled to the banks of the Xiang River in Cangwu County, delivered the crane, and so on. The Jade Emperor issued a new decree ordering the two masters to convey the crane boy to the Han family of Changli County in Yongping Prefecture, to be reborn there as a human and to await his later employment.

Having received the decree, they said to the crane boy, “We shall give you another elixir to swallow, which will transform you into an immortality peach. Then we’ll convey you to the womb of Madame Zheng, the wife of Han Hui in Changli County of Yongping Prefecture. One month after your birth we shall come to see you and give you a magical elixir and charm water. Once you are sixteen years old, we will teach you how to complete the Way and ascend to the ranks of the immortals to enjoy eternal life without aging. So as not to violate the Jade Emperor’s decree, do not divulge this heavenly secret.”

In tears the crane boy pleaded with his masters, “When I finally escaped from this body that I had received by way of punishment, I looked forward to achieving perfection and its attending rewards, and to roaming at ease with you, my masters. I didn’t expect that I would first have to be reborn as a human, becoming immersed in the river of blood and bound up in the dusty nets of the world. I don’t want to go.”

“The imperial decree has already been issued,” the two masters said. “Who would dare disobey it? Besides, although you have shed your animal hide, you have never compounded the great elixir. The only way for you to attain your goal of immortality is to go through the ten months of gestation, relying on your parents’ essence and blood—just like the Most High Lord Lao, who was born from the womb of a jade maiden and only then appeared to cultivate himself and realize his rewards.”

“If I have to be reborn before I can become an immortal, then why didn’t you have me reborn right away when you transformed me on the banks of the Xiang River, rather than taking me to an audience with the Jade Emperor and only then sending me back to the human world? It would have saved a lot of suffering and hassle.”

“We did not dare act without an imperial decree,” Master Lü replied.

“I would like to present a poem to you,” the crane boy said.

“On the bank of the River Xiang I met my honored teachers.

Delivered by them, I flew to Heaven for an audience with the Jade Emperor.

Now that I already have escaped from my feathered body,

Why do I have to descend to earth to become a human once more?”

“I also have a poem,” Master Lü said. “Listen closely:

“You must not worry over the delay,

But serve your turn in the Han family.

Your merit completed, you will go to the Jade Palace,

As sure as the river in Cangwu will still be flowing east.”

The crane boy realized that the masters had given him their final instructions. He had no choice but to swallow the golden elixir pill, which transformed him into an immortality peach. The peach in hand, the two masters flew straight to the Han family’s mansion. It so happened that it was the third watch, and so the two masters dispatched a spirit to bestow a dream on Han Hui’s wife, Mme. Zheng. She dreamt that as the sun rose in the east like a precious mirror suspended high in the sky, an immortal crane came flying down; in its beak it carried an immortality peach, which it let fall into her womb. Beside her there appeared in a flash of light a Daoist wearing a green headcloth and a cotton gown and carrying a precious sword on his shoulder. In a loud voice he called out, “Mme. Zheng, wife of Han Hui, I am Master Two Mouths.¹ I have received an imperial decree to give you this immortality peach for a son. Remember well the command I will give you:

“Mme. Zheng, look up and listen to what I say.

The words of immortals are never false.

I send you a son to continue your ancestral line,

But later he will ride the wind to the Nine Heavens.”

Startled, Mme. Zheng awoke from her dream. Overjoyed, she awakened Han Hui and said to him, “At the first watch I couldn’t sleep. At the second watch I was still tossing and turning. When I finally went to sleep at the third watch, I had a dream. I dreamt that as the sun rose in the east like a precious mirror suspended high in the sky, an immortal crane came flying down; in its beak it carried an immortality peach, which it let fall into my womb. There was also a Daoist wearing a green headcloth and a cotton gown and carrying a precious sword on his shoulder. He told me that the peach would become our son. Don’t you think this dream was extraordinary?”

Joyfully Han Hui replied, “I had the same dream! I am now forty-two years old and still without a son. I think divine Heaven has observed our hidden sincerity, and, having decided that we should not be without posterity, has sent us a son to continue the family line. Surely this is why the divine immortal from Heaven has given this clear and explicit order. Let’s burn incense to thank Heaven and then wait and see what happens.”

“You are right,” Mme. Zheng said. She dressed hurriedly, combed her hair, and washed herself so as to look seemly. Together with Han Hui she burnt precious candles and expensive incense and bowed to Heaven eight times.

At daylight, Han Hui told the dream in all detail to his brother Tuizhi. Delighted, Tuizhi said, “According to this dream omen, my sister-in-law will certainly give birth to a worthy son who will continue the Han family line. Truly, it was not in vain that our family accumulated merit for many generations.” A poem proves a fitting illustration:

Those who accumulate goodness have a surplus of blessings.

How could misfortune not follow evil deeds?

For nine generations the Han family’s hidden merit has been abundant,

And so Heaven has bestowed a baby on their humble household.

Suffice it to say that time flew like an arrow, the days and months raced by like a shuttle on a loom, and joy filled this meritorious household. In no time at all, Mme. Zheng gave birth to a son. The boy’s earlobes were so long that they touched his shoulders; his hands reached further than his knees; his face looked as if it were powdered, his lips as if painted vermilion. Truly he was a beautiful boy. Great joy filled the household and all the relatives came to offer their congratulations. It really was like the saying “A unicorn has its seed in Heaven; in the human world, the most joyful thing is when an oyster gives birth to a pearl.”

As it turned out, however, throughout the first month of his life the baby cried incessantly day and night. When Han Hui saw the state of things, he became very worried. “This is no ordinary child,” he said to his wife. “I am sure he’ll be fine later on, but this crying reminds me of a passage I read: ‘If a baby cries at night, he will cause the downfall of his parents.’ It’s probably because I was not fated to have a son. I think we should get a relative to adopt him. Once he is grown up, we can take him back. That should work, shouldn’t it?”

“Before, we couldn’t have a son, and prayed day and night to Heaven, Earth, and the ancestors, fearing that the family would remain without posterity,” Mme. Zheng replied. “Thanks to Heaven’s protection and the ancestors’ merit, we have this child now and everything is well. I don’t think his incessant wailing means that he won’t make it to maturity and that I suffered the misery of my pregnancy in vain. If we give him up for adoption to another family, people will slight him for it later. It would be better to give him as a son to your brother. I am just afraid that my sister-in-law won’t be happy about it.”

As they were talking, they heard someone out on the street walking past their gate, striking a fisher drum and chanting a Daoist song.² As soon as the child heard the sound of the fisher drum, he stopped crying; when he could not hear it any more, he started to cry again. It was really very strange. Reader, what were the words of the fisher drum singer that caused the child to stop crying and listen? The Daoist who struck the fisher drum was Master Lü, and he sang a song to the tune of “Cassia Fragrance,” which reminded the baby of his previous existence as the crane boy. The child awakened with a start, stopped crying, and listened to the song:

“Crane Boy, awaken!

Your teacher has come to look after you.

From when I delivered you to Changli last year

Until today,

I was absent from your noble dwelling.

Don’t cry,

Don’t cry,

But listen to my command.

Are you now at ease?

Though you suffer restrictions for a while,

Later you will ascend to the Purple Empyrean,

And your name will be engraved in the Grotto Court of Heaven.

Crane child, be patient,

While for now you dwell outside of Heaven.

You may sigh at the slow rotation of summer and winter,

But in the turn of a hand, two years will have passed.

Think, little child of the Han family, think!

You have extraordinary ability,

Truly the stuff of which great ministers are made.

Originally you were a guest in Great Veil Heaven,

From whose jade-paved streets you descended because you hankered for the mortal world.”

When Han Hui saw that the baby had stopped crying and was listening to the song, he remarked to Mme. Zheng, “I think the child likes to listen to fisher drum music. Let’s call in this musician to entertain him for a while. I’ll ask him—he probably knows some music that might make the child stop crying.”

Mme. Zheng summoned the servant Zhang Qian and said, “Go and ask this fisher drum player inside.”

Zhang Qian hurried out to the street and called, “Daoist, come back! My master wants to have a word with you.”

“Would that be the Lord Han?” the Daoist asked.

“Such foreknowledge is like that of a divine immortal,” Zhang Qian replied.

“I am not quite a divine immortal,” said the Daoist. Then, following Zhang Qian, he entered the gate with a proud bearing, knocked his head in front of Han Hui, and inquired, “In what matter did you call upon this humble Daoist, my lord?”

Han Hui replied, “I have only one son, who since his birth a month ago has cried incessantly. I was deep in worries just now, unable to think of a solution, when I heard the fisher drum. The boy stopped crying and seemed to listen to it. So I asked you in to play the fisher drum and sing a Daoist song to entertain him for a while.”

“Nothing could be easier than to make this child stop crying,” said the Daoist. “Bring him here and let me have a look at him. I guarantee he will cry no more.”

“If you really succeed, you will be richly rewarded,” Han Hui told him. From behind the screen, Mme. Zheng gave the child to Han Hui, who handed him to the Daoist, saying, “This is my son.”

The Daoist felt the child’s forehead and said, “You need not cry. You will pass sixteen uneventful years before you look for me in the Zhongnan Mountains. When your merit is full, you will ascend to the Jade Emperor’s capital, and assist your family below.”

The boy seemed happy when he heard these words, and stopped crying.

“Sir, what is your name and home district?” Han Hui inquired.

“I am a poor Daoist who has abandoned his family to cultivate himself. People call me Master Two Mouths, and that’s my name. As for a home district, I do not have one,” Master Lü informed him.

From behind the screen, Mme. Zheng whispered to Han Hui, “The dream foretold that a Master Two Mouths would bring the child. Could this Master Two Mouths be the divine immortal from the dream?”

“Wandering ascetics are always using assumed names,” Han Hui said. “Why should we believe him?”

The Daoist laughed. “The name is identical, but the person may not be the same. Why do you look down on people, my lord?”

“Please forgive me,” Han Hui said. “The child is happy and has stopped crying. May I trouble you to choose a childhood name for him?”

“In a distinguished scholarly family, why bother with a childhood name? Let’s choose a school name for him,” the Daoist suggested.

Han Hui thanked him. “That would be even better,” he said.

“I walked here on the road along the Xiang River and saw its billowing fog and rushing water, flowing east and turning west,” the Daoist began. “In ten thousand years it has never dried up, a truly eternal river. Now I choose for your son the name Han Xiang; his childhood name shall be Xiangzi. I pray that he will grow up easily, without calamities and disasters. Later he will become as famous and rich as the Xiang River is vast. His longevity and good health shall be as uninterrupted as the flow of the Xiang.”

“Many thanks for your instruction. Will you stay for a vegetarian meal?” Han Hui offered. But the Daoist spread out his sleeves and vanished in a ray of golden light. He left behind the fisher drum, which stood up straight on the floor. When Han Hui went to pick it up, he found that he could not lift it. Mme. Zheng came forward and tried, but she could not pull it up either. They called others to try and move it, but not even with four, five, or even ten people pulling at it could it be budged. It was as if it had taken root.

“That Daoist surely was a divine immortal!” Mme. Zheng exclaimed. “He was offended because we didn’t recognize him, and left this fisher drum as proof. Face to face with an immortal, we did not recognize him. Hurry, ask your brother to come and look. Then we’ll know for sure.”

Han Hui quickly sent someone for Tuizhi. When he arrived, Mme. Zheng said, “This is why we asked you here: Your nephew just wouldn’t stop crying. Luckily a Daoist striking a fisher drum and singing songs came by. When the child heard him, he finally quieted down. Your older brother invited the Daoist in to play the fisher drum and sing Daoist songs for the child’s amusement. The Daoist said that this boy will become a man of great talents. He spoke to him, and chose for him the school name Han Xiang. Your older brother invited him for a vegetarian meal, but he just shook his sleeves, transformed into a ray of golden light, and disappeared. He left behind this fisher drum, which neither your older brother nor several men together can lift. So we called you to have a look and see if you have an explanation.”

Tuizhi went forward and pulled lightly at the drum. It lifted off the floor with no resistance, as if it were drifting duckweed or rootless grass. On its bottom, lustrous as jade, was written “Master Chunyang.”³ Tuizhi said, “This was Lü Dongbin descended from Heaven. Naturally your mortal eyes would not recognize him. Divine immortals are not willing to explain themselves clearly, but leave behind clues for mortals to figure out.” The whole family lit incense and candles, faced toward Heaven, and gave thanks.

A year went by, and Xiangzi’s first-year test was soon to come. Han Hui was still full of joy, but ever since Xiangzi had encountered the Daoist, he seemed struck dumb, as if he were made of clay or wood. He did not cry, but neither did he laugh. It was as if (as the saying goes) they had bought him a mouth that wouldn’t open. If they gave him his three meals a day, he would eat them, but if they didn’t give him anything, he would not insist. While on the outside he thus appeared confused, within his mind he understood everything that was going on. Everyone called him “the mute little master.” Mme. Zheng did not know what to do.

Soon the boy was three years old, but still he did not make the slightest progress. Han Hui thought to himself, “At this age, Xiangzi still can’t even speak half a sentence. People are going to make fun of him unnecessarily. Truly, it’s like the saying ‘You shouldn’t insist on asking for a son, if it is your fate not to have one. If you do insist, you may get one, but your worries will then only increase.’ In the past Bodao didn’t have a son and could cast off all his worries.”⁴

Han Hui was very unhappy. Worrying day and night, he contracted a disease and died. Weeping, Tuizhi performed the mourning rites, prepared the coffin, ceremonially placed Han Hui’s body in it, and buried him in the ancestral tomb.

One day Tuizhi ordered Zhang Qian, “My deceased brother had only this one child. He was hoping that his son would grow up, marry, and have children of his own, who would continue the Han family line. Who would have expected that at three, he would still not be able to speak? He must be mute, and it is useless to raise a mute child. Go out and find a good fortune-teller who can calculate his fate on the basis of his eight characters.⁵ If I later have a son of my own, he can become the one to sweep the family tombs.”⁶

Up in the clouds, Master Lü heard Tuizhi’s words. He traveled down on a cloud and took the form of a fortune-teller, walking up and down the Han family’s street and shouting in a loud voice, “Fortunes told! Fortunes told!”

How was this fortune-teller dressed?

A folded headcloth, crooked in front, rucked up in the back. A green cotton gown, skewed on the left and wrinkled on the right. Two restless eyes regarding the blue sky, two nervous hands swinging an abacus.

He shouted, “I can explain the original fate and understand its roots and sources. If one of my fate calculations turns out to be wrong, I’ll happily pay a penalty of two cash.”

Zhang Qian quickly invited him into the house to see Tuizhi. “What is your name and where do you come from?” Tuizhi asked him.

“I am called Kai Kouling.⁷ I have been traveling for many years and am very skilled in calculating accurate fortunes. When I meet a crown prince, my calculations reveal him to be a member of the imperial family. When I meet a divine immortal, I can calculate that he is a descendant of Lord Lao. When I meet a wife, I can calculate that her husband is the prime minister or some other high official. When I meet a monk, I can calculate that he is destined to lead a celibate religious life.”

“The way you put it, fortune-telling seems to be a meddlesome business,” Tuizhi commented.

“The way I put it, a person’s eight characters hold many obscure marvels,” countered Master Lü. “What would be your question, my lord?”

“Please divine my nephew’s fate. If you get it wrong, I will fine you two cash.”

“Since I set out this morning, I haven’t had much business,” complained Master Lü. “If you want to fine me, pay me my fee first. That way I can pay the fine if I go wrong.”

“If you come out with this kind of obnoxious talk, I won’t trouble you for your services.”

“Please tell me his eight characters,” Master Lü said.

“First year of the Jianzhong reign period, the noon hour of the first day of the second month,”⁸ Tuizhi replied.

“That makes a gengshen year, jimao month, xinyou day, and jiawu hour. Gengshen is the position of the white monkey sitting on the immortality peach tree. Jimao denotes the jade rabbit returning to the Penglai Isles of the Immortals. Xinyou means the golden chicken entering the Sun Palace. Jiawu is the simurgh flying to the Jade Palace. These eight characters are not those of an ordinary mortal. Their owner has the lot to serve three emperors as a high minister, and the talent of seven generations of top graduates in the metropolitan examinations. By the age of twenty, he will have had his name entered in the Purple Office and at the Jasper Pool; all of his relatives will achieve perfection, and the whole family will attain divine status. However, if he is willing to study, he will achieve the highest official position, but then his life span will be short. Currently the owner of these eight characters is undergoing the effects of a ‘tomb store’ fate constellation; as a result his mind is darkened and his tongue mute, so that he is like a useless, discarded object. When he is seven or eight, his fate will change and he will naturally excel over others.”

“Right now he is like a mute and cannot even read,” Tuizhi said. “As for studying to become an immortal, the world holds only celestial immortals, terrestrial immortals, divine immortals, ghost immortals, and—at the lowest rank—the so-called obtuse immortals.⁹ How could there be a mute immortal?”

“His face is clear and extraordinary, his appearance of classical simplicity; his mind is highly perspicacious, and his nature is endowed with high intelligence. The day he opens his mouth to speak, it will be as if Confucius’s disciples Yan Hui and Zigong were born again,” Master Lü replied. The two men were immersed in animated conversation when Master Zhong, who had descended on a cloud and transformed himself into a physiognomist, called in a loud voice outside the mansion, “By examining face and shape, I can recognize a future emperor in the yellow mud of an impoverished hovel. By examining words and studying expressions, I can recognize a future high minister in a commoner’s household. If it is an immortal descended into the world of dust, I also know his past, present, and future.”

When Zhang Qian heard these impressive words, he hurried inside and said to Tuizhi, “My lord, this fortune-teller isn’t that extraordinary. Outside there is a physiognomist who claims to be Tang Ju reincarnate and Xu Fu reborn.¹⁰ Why not invite him in?”

Master Lü knew that it was Master Zhong, who had come to the human world. He said, “My lord, you say that my fate calculation is not accurate. Let’s invite this physiognomist in and see whether what he says accords with my own judgment.”

So Tuizhi ordered Zhang Qian to invite him in. Zhang Qian brought the physiognomist into the hall, where he seated himself opposite the fortune-teller. Tuizhi then pointed to Xiangzi and said, “Please read the face of this child.”

The physiognomist peered at him closely. “His earlobes hang down to his shoulders; purple mist coils around him. His hands extend below his knees; a golden light is manifest. The corners of his eyes are rich and full; his lower cheekbones are upright and rounded. His spirit is clear and his pneuma bright. His bones are firm and complete. If he does not become a personal retainer of an emperor, he will certainly become an immortal of the Penglai Isles. This boy is not a common person.”

“The arts of astrology and physiognomy are different in their techniques, and each arrives at its own conclusions, yet today they agree,” Master Lü said. “How could that not be due to the young gentleman’s eight characters and physique?”

“I would ask you, my lord, to sit upright so I can examine your physiognomy,” Master Zhong added. “How about it?”

“I was just going to request it,” Tuizhi replied.

Master Zhong lifted Tuizhi’s headcloth. “Your forehead is high and broad; the lower cheek bones are square yet rounded. The ears are high above the shoulder. The nose is well developed. The upper cheek bones point heavenwards, a sign that you will wield authority over ten thousand miles. The bones of your brow rise up, which shows your complete loyalty to one school of thought. Forehead, cheekbones, chin, and nose all bow toward Heaven—your name will be on the yellow list of top examination graduates. The temple bones show that you will suffer few illnesses in your life. The tread of a crane and the breathing of a turtle are signs of a celestial immortal. Bones and spirit tell me, however, that in the end you will suffer misfortunes. In my humble opinion:

“Dragon and Tiger are difficult to part,

But phoenix and simurgh must leave the flock.

After eight thousand miles in wind and frost,

There will be a certain person waiting for you.”¹¹

“Thank you very much for your instructions, but what do your words mean?” asked Tuizhi.

“These four verses contain the course of your life and will be verified by later events,” Master Zhong told him.

“My nephew Xiangzi is four years old, but still can’t speak, just like a mute,” Tuizhi said. “What can be done about this?”

The Masters said, “What difficulty is there in getting the young gentleman to speak? Here is a pill. Tomorrow at the fifth watch, have the young gentleman take it with some ‘rootless water.’¹² He will then be able to speak.”

Overjoyed, Tuizhi received the pill. He ordered Zhang Qian to divide up two ounces of silver into two packages and presented them to the two masters, but they just laughed and would not accept a single coin. Into Xiangzi’s ear they whispered the following order:

“Do not worry, Crane Boy.

You need to understand earlier causes and their later effects.

The elixir drug will sweep clear your demonic obstructions,

And you will be sure to ascend to the Isles of the Immortals soon.”

With these words, they walked out the door with their heads held high. When Tuizhi sent someone to run after them, they had disappeared mysteriously. He could see only auspicious clouds swirling in the sky and a propitious crane flying and calling beyond the clouds. Tuizhi thought to himself, “Perhaps these two were immortals, but perhaps not. Let’s wait until the fifth watch when my nephew takes the pill, and see if it works. However, he said that my name will be on the yellow list of top examination graduates and that I will be appointed a minister. I wonder how many years this will take. Tomorrow I’ll gather my travel money, go to the capital, and sit for the examinations. Then I will know more.”

A poem puts it well:

When your time comes, the wind will convey you to the Pavilion of King Teng,¹³

But when your destiny retreats, lightning will destroy the Stele of Recommended Blessings.¹⁴

One day just like the flood-dragon achieving his wind and rain,

A young talented scholar will reach his ambitions and return home clothed in brocade.

Did Tuizhi go to the capital or didn’t he? Listen to the next chapter to find out.