15 MANIFESTING HIS DIVINE POWERS, XIANGZI LIES SNORING ON THE GROUND

Human life everywhere is like a crooked path;

The affairs of this world are full of anxiety, like catkins blown away by the wind.

Within the transformations of the universe, we are children who have nothing firm to hold on to.

Coming and going,

Up and down, back and forth,

Everything in sight is like this.

Why admire the achievements of Yi and Zhou

Instead of imitating Yuanming and returning to your home?

Halt in your dangerous drift, and seek shelter.

Whether it is jade halls and golden horses

Or bamboo fences and thatched huts,

Any of these are places of no-mind.¹

When Xiangzi had collected the immortal crane and goat and gone out the gate, he considered that he still had not delivered Tuizhi and fulfilled his mission. So he returned to the gate and called, “Open up, open up!”

Zhang Qian and Li Wan blocked his way and said, “The master ordered twenty blows of the bamboo for us if we let you in. How come you aren’t afraid of the embarrassment, but just insist on making trouble? If you give no heed to the reputation of ascetics, we shall first give you a beating and then send you to the warden’s office to have you charged.”

“Stop this chattering,” Xiangzi said. “The ancients said, ‘In the monk that comes you see the face of the Buddha.’ How can you speak of beatings? I’m not afraid that you might beat me. I have things to discuss with you. Don’t be so obstinate.”

“The master doesn’t want to cultivate himself with you, so perhaps you think can deliver us, eh?” Li Wan said. “No offense, but rather than spend my life without food to eat or clothes to wear until I die of cold and hunger, I prefer to die at home. I certainly won’t go and cultivate myself with you, so save your breath.”

“Even if you bribed us to let you in, we wouldn’t do it, so don’t waste your time arguing,” Zhang Qian said.

“I haven’t come to deliver you, and have no bribe to give you,” Xiangzi said. “If the problem is that your master has ordered you to be beaten if you let me in—well, come to think of it, if you let me in, you won’t necessarily get beaten, but if you don’t let me in, you will definitely get your twenty blows of the bamboo.”

“Why should we be beaten if we don’t let you in? I don’t believe a word you are saying!” Zhang Qian said.

“I am not a three-and-a-half-year-old-child to be hoodwinked by you. I don’t believe a word!” Li Wan added.

“Do you dare say ‘I don’t believe you!’ three times?” Xiangzi asked.

“What if I said it not just three, but three thousand times?” Zhang Qian said.

“In that case, say it!” Xiangzi said.

Together the two said, “We won’t let you in! We won’t let you in! We absolutely won’t let you in!”

Using his divine powers, Xiangzi shook his sleeves, fell to the ground, and with his drum as a pillow fell fast asleep, snoring and motionless. His primordial spirit, however, went straight into the banquet room and said, “My lords, here I am again.”

As soon as Tuizhi saw Xiangzi, he became so angry that his hair stood up under his cap and his heart burned with wrath. “How did you get in?” he shouted.

“I had gone quite a way when your two servants came and said that you wanted to speak to me. So I came back,” Xiangzi replied.

“Go sit in the side room. I have business to take care of,” Tuizhi said.

Xiangzi obeyed, and played his fisher drum in the side room. Meanwhile Tuizhi called Zhang Qian and Li Wan and asked, “Has that young Daoist left?”

Zhang Qian said, “He is so drunk he can’t walk and is now sleeping on the ground outside the gate.”

“Prick up your donkey ears and listen!” Tuizhi said. “Who is beating the fisher drum?”

“I don’t know who it is,” Zhang Qian said.

“You detestable dogs! You let in a Daoist and claim at the same time that he is sleeping on the ground outside,” Tuizhi shouted. “You’re lying straight to my face. Twenty strokes each!” Other servants dragged and pulled Zhang Qian and Li Wan to the ground.

The two wailed and said, “A Daoist really is sleeping on the ground outside. Master, if you don’t believe us, we request all of you gentlemen to see for yourselves. Then it will become clear. Don’t beat us unjustly!”

The officials said, “These two are detestable, but the Daoist is indeed a strange fellow. You really mustn’t beat them undeservedly.”

When Tuizhi walked out the gate with the officials to take a look, there really was a Daoist sleeping on the ground and snoring like thunder. And yet inside, in the side room, there was another Daoist beating a fisher drum and singing Daoist songs. The officials all said, “Although there are two different people, their faces and clothes are exactly alike. Clearly he is a divine immortal who can divide his body and appear in several places at once. Lord Han, you must not treat him rudely.”

Thereupon Tuizhi said to the Daoist, “Leaving the body is nothing but a fraudulent trick. How dare you come here and cheat me? I will burn this body of yours—let’s see what abode your primordial spirit will go to then.”

At that moment, the Daoist in the side room came walking out, and the Daoist sleeping on the ground woke up. The two merged into one.

On seeing this, the officials all dropped down and saluted him. “Today we have the good fortune of meeting a divine immortal. Please save and deliver us!”

Tuizhi rushed to hold the officials back and said, “Do not let your eyes be deceived. Don’t fall for the tricks of a swindler.”

“Lord Han, I am no swindler,” Xiangzi said. “I am a blood relative of yours, who cannot endure that you should fall into the fiery pit. Therefore I have gone to a great deal of trouble to deliver you. My spirit-souls may go to purgatory and my body-souls may be scattered through the Nine Heavens, but this drop of primordial spirit will never perish. How could that ordinary fire of yours burn me?”

“You are nothing but a vagrant, uncouth Daoist. What blood relationship could we have?” Tuizhi said.

“Related or not, we are still from the same native place,” Xiangzi said. “Beautiful or not, it is still our home. Even the mountains and waters will meet some day; why should humans be fated never to meet? Why do you say such unkind things?”

“The lord Han wanted to punish you several times, but each time we asked him to forgive you,” said Scholar Lin. “If you are a divine immortal, why don’t you fly high and do great deeds in faraway places, so that people hear of your reputation even without getting to meet you? Why go to so much trouble to disturb people’s banquets and annoy their guests?”

“In the mountains I heard that the family of lord Han had accumulated merit for many generations,” Xiangzi said. “Furthermore, I heard that he had good steamed buns at his house. I specifically came to beg for some to take back to the mountains and give to my master to still his hunger.”

“You should have said earlier that you wanted to beg for steamed buns,” Tuizhi said. “By all means, go and take some with you. Why do you have to talk so much and do all these tricks?” Then he ordered Zhang Qian to go to the kitchen, get some buns, and send the Daoist off with them.

Zhang Qian led Xiangzi into the kitchen and said, “How many do you want? What kind of container do you want to fill?”

“I have this flower basket,” Xiangzi replied.

“That little flower basket will hold only a few buns,” Zhang Qian said. “I’ll give you a piece of silver so you can hire a carrier to carry a big basket for you, all right?”

But Xiangzi answered, “How could I eat them all up? It’ll be enough if you just fill this flower basket.”

So Zhang Qian brought a big basket of steamed buns and started to fill the flower basket. Xiangzi performed a vanishing spell, and so Zhang Qian emptied basket after basket until he had put 356 buns in the flower basket, which was still not full. When Zhang Qian realized that no buns were left, he stood open-mouthed with amazement. He seized Xiangzi and began to shout, but Xiangzi shook his sleeves, stepped on top of the flower basket, and floated up into the air. From above he let a piece of paper flutter down.

Looking up, Zhang Qian said, “Daoist, your mind is too devious. After filling your flower basket with so many of our household’s steamed buns, you don’t even thank the master but just drop a written complaint. Who do you want to accuse? You don’t want me to fill another flower basket, do you?”

Xiangzi came down and said, “Let’s go together and see your master.”

Zhang Qian seized him again, whereupon Xiangzi protested loudly.

“Why are you holding onto the Daoist and shouting like this?” Tuizhi asked.

“He didn’t obey your orders at all, but instead seized me and shouted at me,” Xiangzi said. “I’m not an important person, but how can you govern the important affairs at court if you can’t even control two servants?”

Zhang Qian handed the piece of paper to Tuizhi and reported, “You ordered me to reward the Daoist with some steamed buns. He filled a small flower basket with 356 of them, and it wasn’t even full then. Then he wrote an accusation against me. Therefore I seized him and brought him to see you so that he can explain himself.”

When Tuizhi looked at the paper, he saw that it contained a poem that simply stated the miraculous properties of the flower basket:

A bamboo rod broken into splinters,

Woven exquisitely by an ingenious craftsman.

Diminutive on the outside, spacious inside,

It can hold the whole world, sun and moon.

When Tuizhi had finished reading the poem, he said, “Daoist, you really are lacking in manners. The 356 buns were intended for my guests. I meant well by rewarding you with a few. Why did you use a vanishing spell to cheat me out of all of them?”

“Don’t be so petty-minded,” Xiangzi said. “The buns are all in the basket. If you don’t want to donate them, I’ll take them out and return them to you.”

“How could this tiny flower basket hold 356 buns?” Tuizhi inquired.

“It looks small on the outside, but inside it is as deep as a dried-up well,” Zhang Qian said.

“Don’t underestimate this basket,” Xiangzi said. “Here is a song to the tune ‘Shoals amid the Waves’ to illustrate it”:

“A small flower basket,

Which had long been at the Peach Spring.

A purple bamboo rod in front of the Jade Emperor’s palace.

The Queen Mother broke it into splinters for three full years;

Lu Ban wove it for ten full years.

This flower basket

Has special origins.

Though it may hold the universe and Heaven and Earth,

It is still just a basket.”

“Extolling the flower basket is just another trick to confuse me. I don’t believe you at all,” Tuizhi said.

“It’s up to you whether you believe me or not,” Xiangzi said. “As for me, let me ask you once more for some wine.”

“I already rewarded you with wine and a table. Why are you begging for wine again?”

“The truth of the matter is, my master in the mountains is about to concoct the Elixir of Ten Thousand Spirits, but he still doesn’t have any good wine. That’s why I’m trying to get some.”

“I also know how to concoct that recipe,” Tuizhi said. “How much wine do you need?”

“Just one gourd full will be enough.”

“A gourd doesn’t hold much. How could it be enough to concoct the elixir?”

“Don’t underestimate this bottle-gourd,” Xiangzi said. “Here is a poem to show why:

“A tiny gourd just three inches high,

But it grew at the foot of the Penglai Mountains.

It can hold all the water of the Five Lakes and Four Oceans,

And still not be even half full.”

“Stop blabbing,” Tuizhi said. “Zhang Qian, hurry and give him his wine.”

“Master, where is your bamboo tube? Bring it here so I can give you wine,” Zhang Qian said.

“I have tied your skin onto the bamboo tube and made a fisher drum out of it. I have only this bottle-gourd here,” Xiangzi said.

“If you intended to beg for alms, you might as well have brought a large container, so we could give you a few jugs more,” Zhang Qian said. “How much can this small gourd hold? It will reflect badly on us as alms-givers if we give so little.”

“I don’t want much,” Xiangzi said. “Just fill up the bottle-gourd.”

Zhang Qian poured in more than ten vats of wine, but the gourd still wasn’t full. “Strange, why doesn’t it fill up?” he said.

“Pour in a few more vats, that should do it,” said Xiangzi. Then he struck his fisher drum and clapper and sang,

“A tiny gourd,

Narrow in the middle,

Thick at the ends.

Having expended much effort on the practice of Nine Cycles,

It can measure itself with Lake Dongting.

Stop deriding the small size of my gourd,

It can take in liquid until the oceans are exhausted and the rivers dried up.”

Zhang Qian reported to Tuizhi, “Master, the Daoist used the same trick again. The wine is all used up, but still hasn’t filled this bottle-gourd.”

“Young Daoist, a true divine immortal both takes and gives,” Tuizhi said. “To only take and not give does not fulfill the great Dao. It’s quite enough that you performed the trick with the steamed buns. Why did you cheat me out of my wine as well?”

“Don’t worry,” said Xiangzi. “Just bring me some empty vats and I’ll return it all to you. If a single drop is missing, I’ll give you an extra vat. Bring some big bamboo baskets and I’ll return your 356 steamed buns. If even one is missing, I’ll give you a hundred extra, all right?”

And true enough, when Zhang Qian brought the empty vats and baskets, Xiangzi rolled up his sleeves and lightly picked up the bottle-gourd, as if it were empty. He inclined it over one vat after another, until several dozen were full. Not even a drop was missing, and there was still wine left in the gourd. Nobody understood how so much wine could have been stored in the bottle-gourd.

When the officials saw this, they all applauded and praised Xiangzi. Tuizhi alone did not believe it and said, “These are just some heterodox magical tricks of the Maoshan School, fit only to deceive fools. How could a divine immortal consent to covet wine and food, and to employ his magical powers in a frivolous manner?”

When Xiangzi heard Tuizhi’s words, he again displayed his divine powers by taking out of the flower basket 356 steamed buns. Not one was missing. The officials said together, “Such magic is truly unique!” They sighed in boundless admiration.

Suddenly, Xiangzi returned the wine to the gourd and the steamed buns to the basket and secretly dispatched a celestial general to deposit them below Blue Pass. The general gave them to the local earth god to keep in storage for later use when Tuizhi came this way and needed to eat and ward off the cold. Then he beat the clapper and sang a song to the tune of “Ascending the Little Tower”:

“People say I covet flowers and hanker after wine,

But in the wine I penetrate the Mysterious Pass.

Among the flowers I meet divine immortals;

In the wine I obtain the ancient Dao.

I refine the cinnabar sand,

Revolving it nine times to return to a perfect yang body.

I only care about awakening to eternal life,

To grow as old as Heaven.”

“You’re just bragging,” Tuizhi said. “I was enjoying the good company of my guests and we were going to discuss important political matters, but you keep disturbing us. This isn’t the kind of skillful means you ascetics like to employ.” He called to the servants, “Throw him out.”

“Don’t bother having me thrown out,” Xiangzi said. “Just drink a few cups of wine with me and I won’t come again to disturb you.”

Tuizhi laughed. “How much wine can you take?”

“Just make sure I get drunk. Don’t worry about my capacity for wine,” Xiangzi said.

“Can you drink a hundred large cups?”

“With twice fifty I’ll be only half drunk.”

“Such stamina is quite good,” Tuizhi said. “Today I have 356 guests. Each one will drink a cup with you. Start with me.”

“I obey your command,” assented Xiangzi.

Tuizhi ordered wine to be served. After just three cups Xiangzi fell drunk to the floor. Tuizhi said, “Look at this Daoist, so drunk after three cups of wine. He is all big words and has no shame. How could he be a divine immortal? Zhang Qian and Li Wan, carry him out, drop him outside the gate, and pay no more attention to him.”

Zhang Qian and Li Wan used all their strength, but they could not lift him off the ground. Tuizhi got very angry and shouted, “Get several dozen more people and drag this uncouth Daoist out!” Zhang Qian called two units of police runners to drag Xiangzi out. However, Xiangzi did not seem like one fallen down drunk, but rather as if he were made of iron and copper. They could not budge him one inch.

“You dogs are all useless,” Tuizhi said angrily. “Let him sleep, and when he wakes up, throw him out right away before he can say anything.” Zhang Qian and the others bowed and withdrew.

After half an hour, Xiangzi scrambled up with a great deal of noise and said, “My lord, how is my capacity for wine?”

“You fell down drunk after three cups—do you have any capacity to speak of?” Tuizhi replied.

“My capacity didn’t measure up and I couldn’t drink with the lords,” Xiangzi said. “However, I have a fellow disciple who won’t even refuse the sort of wine that makes one drunk for a thousand days and completely intoxicated until the day the realm of Great Peace comes. How about inviting him to drink a cup with us?”

“What is his station in life, and where is he now?”

“He comes from a cellar and lives in a palace, fills his belly with wine, and will die drunk on the road. If you will permit him to see you, I’ll call him.”

“Go call him,” Tuizhi said.

“I can call him from here.”

Using a magical technique employed by immortals, Xiangzi waved his hand toward the sky and called, “Brother, come quickly.” Suddenly, an auspicious cloud appeared and carried a man to the ground. What did he look like? Here is a lyric to the tune “West River Moon” to show it:

A black face,

Glistening eyes.

A head like a mortar and a wide mouth, large yet spiritual.

His teeth bared and his Adam’s apple prominent.

A Nine Yang cloth on his head,

Two tasseled sashes around his waist.

With the red face and the staring eyes of a drunkard,

He could be compared to Li Bai or Liu Ling.

This Daoist stood in front of the stairs and called a greeting to the officials, “My lords, I knock my head.”

Tuizhi said, “Your brother claims that you are a hardy drinker. How much can you really take?”

“When the guest of honor is in his seat, with servants at the sides; when people bow and yield to each other in a pleasant manner, and clothes are complete and proper; when the seating mats are uncomfortable and sweat trickles down my back—on such formal occasions I can drink two or three pints,” he said. “When I am among good friends and we roll dice and gamble; when a red-skirted beauty holds my goblet and a jade hand lifts my cup; when we sing together and watch marvelous dances at the banquet—then from morning to evening I can drink two or three pecks full. When it has gotten late and the drinkers are few and the guests have dispersed; when the host sees off the last guests and only I remain; when I am led to a secluded room where lamps and candles shine, skirts and sleeves link behind the bed-curtains, and shoes become mixed up; when a jade-like body is close in my embrace and a powdered face snuggles up to my soft chest; when the host is so merry he doesn’t recognize me, and I so exhilarated that I forget the host, but throw off my clothes and go wild without restraint—at such a time I can drink two gallons.”

“How can an ascetic speak the words of that crazy Chunyu Kun?² Disgusting! I have no use for you here—get out!” Tuizhi said.

“I don’t stand for idle words either, but you should by all means drink some wine,” said Scholar Lin. “If you drink a lot, you will confirm your brother’s recommendation. If you don’t drink much, we’ll have your brother punished.”

“All right, fetch the wine and let me drink it,” the Daoist said. Thereupon Tuizhi ordered Zhang Qian and Li Wan to set two or three jars of good wine before him.

He quickly drank up one after the other until he had finished several dozen flasks. Then he finally nibbled some fruit, stretched out, and said, “Good wine! In less than an hour I finished three jars. Now I feel a little drunk.”

Tuizhi said to Scholar Lin, “Such capacity for wine is more like it.”

“You look like you’re drunk. Can you still drink more?” Scholar Lin asked the Daoist.

“If you keep it coming, I’ll drink it,” he replied. Tuizhi then ordered Zhang Qian and Li Wan to carry in a large jar of wine. The Daoist did not use a flask or a bowl, but drank to his delight directly from the jar. Very quickly he finished it and fell to the ground motionless.

“My brother is drunk,” Xiangzi said. “It is not seemly for him to sleep on the ground. If you have a blanket, I would like to borrow it to cover him. When he wakes up, we’ll leave together.”

Tuizhi ordered a blanket brought to cover the Daoist and then said to Xiangzi, “You’ve performed a lot of false tricks. Only this drinker was real. I won’t argue with you, just leave quickly and don’t come back. If you do return, I will have you dealt with by the law.”

“The law only applies to officials,” Xiangzi said. “I don’t covet fame or profit, don’t hanker after the world’s red dust, and pay no heed to the passing of time. Why would I fear those fetters and shackles?”

“If you keep talking rubbish, I shall fast and bathe and then submit a memorial to the Jade Emperor, requesting that the criminal Daoist who covets wine and food and confuses the world and its people be sent to purgatory and forever sink into the realm of suffering,” Tuizhi said.

Xiangzi laughed to himself and said, “You say I brag and talk bigger than I act, but you, Uncle, can make empty threats as well. Only I can have an audience with the Jade Emperor. How could an ordinary mortal like you submit a memorial that would actually reach his desk? Such grandiose words wouldn’t even frighten a ghost, let alone someone like me.” Alas,

Many words have been spoken,

But all in vain.

The clever awaken only by way of stupidity—

Why do the clever not become immortals?

If you don’t know what Xiangzi did next, please listen to the next chapter.