16 XIANGZI ENTERS THE UNDERWORLD TO EXAMINE THE REGISTERS OF LIFE AND DEATH

Truth is illusory, illusion true, so truth is also illusion;

Illusion is true, truth illusory, yet illusion is not truth.

Your original nature knows no distinction between truth and illusion;

Once you laugh at the world of dust, illusion and truth become clear.

Earlier on, when Xiangzi had drunk three cups of wine and lay sleeping on the floor, everyone around thought he was drunk, while in fact he had sent out his yang spirit to go directly to purgatory.

Reader, let me tell you why Xiangzi went so hurriedly to visit King Yama. The Jade Emperor had ordered him to deliver Tuizhi so that he could achieve perfection and resume his previous post, but Xiangzi realized that it was Tuizhi’s nature to be pedantic and shallow, clinging to his own views. Tuizhi coveted high official position and a big salary and would not agree to turn back.

Fearing that Death would come quickly to Tuizhi once he was punished for a mistake, Xiangzi proceeded to the underworld palace of Lord Yama to examine Tuizhi’s file and see how many years were left to him and how much longer his official career was going to last. When his destiny was broken and his career finished—that would be a good time for a vigorous effort at delivering him. The right timing would allow Xiangzi to avoid wasting his efforts. So,

Having respectfully received the court’s mandate, he left Southern Heaven,

And proceeded straight to the subterranean offices of the underworld,

There to examine the lord Han’s file of life and death,

To deliver him that he might complete the Dao and become a golden immortal.

When Xiangzi’s primordial spirit came to the Ghost Gate Pass, thirty-six celestial generals crowded around him and seventy-two merit officers and earth gods hastened along the road to welcome him. White cranes and blue simurghs flew in pairs, and flags and banners fluttered in great numbers. Suddenly a flash of light appeared, illuminating the dark Capital of the Dead and breaking through the Blade Mountain Hell. It startled the ox-headed and horse-faced demons so much that they quavered and took fright. The ghost soldiers and underworld officials gesticulated nervously and ran back and forth. The Buddha Ksitigarbha forgot to grasp his nine-ringed pewter staff; in vain the Eavesdropping Spirit pressed his highly sensitive ears to the ground. The sweepers could not find their straw brooms, and the dust piled up in the palaces. Those responsible for burning incense destroyed their aquilaria and sandalwood, and the golden censers went cold. The Assistants to the Left carried the Registers of Good and Evil upside down, so that long and short life spans became difficult to differentiate. The Assistants to the Right held the containers of iron brushes sideways, so that life and death could not be determined.

Forthwith the ox-headed demons hit the drums and their horse-faced colleagues struck the bells to summon the Yama Kings of the Ten Palaces: Qinguang, Chujiang, Songdi, Wuguan, Yama, Pingdeng, Qinshan, Dushi, Biancheng, and Zhuanlun. Together they came to welcome Xiangzi, but they had come in such haste that their clothes were disordered and their courtesies were rushed. Baffled, they walked on tiptoe and whispered to each other, wondering why a divine immortal from the Upper Eight Grottoes had descended into the underworld.

Xiangzi spread his sleeves and stood comfortably. He held a golden tablet in his hands, proclaimed the imperial decree, and then said to Lord Yama, “Seven days in the mountains are a thousand years on earth. One day and night among humans are twelve years in the underworld. I would not come to your palace, breaking the door bolts and opening up the underworld, if I didn’t have serious business. The Jade Emperor has dispatched me to deliver my uncle Tuizhi so that he may become an immortal, complete the Dao, realize his rewards, and ascend to the Primordial Center. I tried to deliver and transform him several times, but he wouldn’t change his mind at all, remaining as obstinate as before. I fear that sooner or later he will suffer a calamity and his worldly possessions will vanish into thin air. When one day the ghost emissaries come to chase him to purgatory, my efforts will have been in vain. Therefore I came to examine how many years are left to my uncle and what career is still ahead of him, so that I may better go about his deliverance.”

Having heard these words, King Yama ordered a ghost assistant, “Quickly fetch the Register of Retribution and Rebirth and let the divine immortal examine it.”

The Assistant to the Left hastened to hand the ledger to Xiangzi. When Xiangzi opened and read it, the first page turned out to be about Pei Du, the Duke of Jin; the second page was on Huangfu Bo; and the third about Li Sheng. On the fourth page was written:

Han Yu of Changli County in Yongping Prefecture. Orphaned at three years of age. Later attains the degree of Presented Academician and becomes Surveillance Commissioner in Xuancheng. Transferred to posting as Investigating Censor. Demoted to Magistrate of Shan-yang. Reassigned as Administrator of Law Section in Jiangling. At the beginning of the Yuanhe reign period selected as Erudite of the National University branch in the Eastern Capital. Reassigned as Vice Director of the Criminal Administration Bureau. Then appointed Magistrate of Henan. Transferred to a posting as Vice Director of the Bureau of Operations. Then again Erudite. Transferred to posts of Director of the Bureau of Review, Historiographer, Senior Compiler, Assistant to the Director of the Bureau of Evaluations, and Proclamation Drafter. Promoted to Secretariat Drafter. Reassigned as Mentor to the Right of the Heir Apparent. Becomes Adjutant in Huaixi. Transferred as Vice Minister of Justice. Moved to Vice Minister of War. Promoted to Minister of Rites. Submits a memorial strongly remonstrating against the Buddha bone. Demoted to Prefect of Chaozhou. On the journey there, wolves block the road and snow accumulates up to his horse’s head. Suffers from hunger and cold. Almost loses his life several times. Reassigned as Prefect of Yuanzhou. Summoned to the capital and appointed Chancellor of the National University, then becomes Metropolitan Governor and Vice Minister of Personnel.¹

When Xiangzi had finished reading, he said, “My uncle still has so many appointments ahead of him—that’s why he won’t change his mind. I will now cancel his official prospects and remove his name, so as to save him further rebirths in the Register of Good and Evil, and to resolve his calamities and extend his years in the Account Book of Life and Death.” Indeed,

When you remove a name in King Yama’s palace,

It gets listed in the Purple Palace and the Jasper Pool.

The Assistant to the Right quickly dipped a brush in thick ink and handed it to Xiangzi. Xiangzi rapidly blotted out Tuizhi’s whole page. When he turned to the fifth page, it happened to contain the fate of Scholar Lin.

Xiangzi said, “My father-in-law is a reincarnation of Yunyangzi. If my uncle regains his former position, my father-in-law should also return to his post in Heaven. I might as well blot out his page to spare him another rebirth.”

The Yama Kings of the Ten Palaces together saluted Xiangzi and said, “In the six paths of rebirth, Heaven has deities and Earth ghosts. The Five Phases produce transformations; within life there is death, and within death life. By yin and yang male and female are differentiated; their combination and separation distinguish longevity and early death. Therefore the Southern Dipper records births and the Northern Dipper deaths. We carefully maintain the files as they are constituted and do not dare alter them. Now, however, you, blessed immortal, blot out entries without consulting us. We are afraid we’ll get the blame if the Emperor on High gets to know of it.”

Xiangzi said, “My uncle Han Tuizhi was the Attendant Great General Chonghezi and the academician Lin was Yunyangzi. Because they drunkenly fought over an immortality peach, broke a crystal cup, and offended the Lord of Supreme Clarity, they were banished to the world of mortals. Thus they are not ordinary humans who go through the cycle of rebirth and have their souls extinguished and scattered. Now their period of exile is almost over, and they are to resume their posts. The Jade Emperor fears that they are unaware of their previous existences and have adopted evil tendencies since falling into the realm of suffering, so he dispatched me to come down and deliver both of them. Therefore I first expunge their names to avoid having their souls punished and seized, which would create a lot of trouble.”

The Yama Kings of the Ten Palaces all bowed and said, “Unaware of these circumstances, it was discourteous of us to interfere. Now that you have clarified the imperial mandate, our minds are put at ease.” Then they followed Xiangzi to see him off.

All the ox-headed ghost soldiers and horse-faced assistants, with their green faces and long fangs, indigo-colored bodies and red hair, were lined up orderly in two rows. Prostrating themselves and kneeling down, they saw him off. Xiangzi took up his fisher drum, concealed his auspicious light, left the underworld, and returned to the world of humans. There he feigned to awaken from his drunken slumber, without letting ordinary mortals realize what had really been going on.

After Xiangzi had asked Tuizhi for a blanket to cover the little Daoist, he talked with Tuizhi for some time longer and then stepped forward again and said, “Lord Han, if you have wine, give me some more to drink.”

“You fell to the ground after just three cups,” Tuizhi told him. “The other Daoist has not yet awakened after getting solidly drunk. And yet you want to beg for more?”

“I didn’t fall down drunk, but instead went before King Yama in the underworld to examine a lord’s career prospects and lifespan,” Xiangzi explained. “That’s why I went to sleep. My brother, who drank with you, left a long time ago already, while we were talking. How can you say he hasn’t woken up yet?”

“Nonsense,” Tuizhi said. “If your brother has already woken up, who then is that under the blanket?”

“Lift up the blanket and you will see,” Xiangzi said.

When Tuizhi ordered Zhang Qian to lift up the blanket, he didn’t see a drunken Daoist, but instead a large vat of good wine. Startled, he went to tell Tuizhi, “He has vanished—there is only a large wine vat.”

“I acknowledged that that wine drinker had a real capacity for liquor, and now it turns out to be another trick,” Tuizhi said. He called to Xiangzi, “Let me ask you, you uncouth Daoist, which lord’s career and life-span did you examine in the underworld?”

“One of those present here,” Xiangzi said.

“There are 356 officials present here. Be more precise as to who it is; then we can see later whether you spoke the truth. Who will believe what you say if you are so muddle-headed and discourteous?”

“I only examined the records of Lord Han, Minister of Rites,” Xiangzi said.

“Why did you examine mine?” asked Tuizhi.

“I want to deliver you so that you will cultivate yourself, but I was afraid your life span wasn’t long enough. Therefore I went to the underworld to gain clarity.”

“I am now fifty-seven years old. What did you find out about my career and life span? Out with it or I shall certainly have you punished as a criminal Daoist who boasts shamelessly and confuses the world with his aberrant talk.”

“Well, don’t blame me for speaking openly. If you want to continue in your official career, you will be exiled next year and there will be little more than a year left of your life span. If, however, you agree to follow me and cultivate yourself, you can live as long as sun and moon and will never age.”

“Since my childhood I have seen countless fortune-tellers and physiognomists,” Tuizhi said. “All of them said I would become an official of the first rank and single-handedly govern the affairs of state. I would live to be a hundred and pass my days in good health. How dare you talk such nonsense?”

“A life span is difficult to calculate, and it is up to you to prolong it. If you do not cultivate yourself, you throw yourself into the snare of Death.”

“You’re just a vagrant Daoist,” Tuizhi said. “You are not Death himself living in the world, nor have you ever died and returned as a ghost. How could you get to see the Registers of Life and Death in the underworld?”

“While I was lying here, my spirit traveled to the underworld,” Xiangzi said. “At the Ghost Gate Pass, the Yama lords, ghost assistants, hell wardens, and underworld soldiers all came to welcome me. I sat in the Senluo Palace, took the Register of Life and Death, and examined it thoroughly. I saw your name in it. It said that you are now fifty-seven years old and that at fifty-eight you will pass away and go to the realm of the dead. Word for word, line for line, I saw that it was true. As for dying and returning as a ghost—if I didn’t have enough time to save myself, how would I have the leisure to examine the records of other people?”

“These are clearly the words of a ghost! I don’t believe it!” Tuizhi said.

“It’s up to you whether to believe it or not. I’m just afraid that next year when you want me to come, you won’t find me anywhere,” Xiangzi said.

Tuizhi’s wrath rose like thunder and he shouted at Zhang Qian to throw Xiangzi out. Only one step out of the gate, Xiangzi turned back once more and called, “Let me in to see your master. I have something important to talk about with him.”

Zhang Qian said, “Daoist, you really are too shameless, aren’t you? Not only is the master annoyed, but the two of us also detest you. Off with you.”

“Why do you detest me, too? This is what is meant by ‘A dog biting Lü Dongbin does not recognize the heart of a good person,’” Xiangzi said.

“The sage put it well: ‘Blind is he who speaks without watching the countenance of his superiors.’² You aren’t blind in both eyes. Having seen that the master was so angry that he had you chased out, you should know to get lost. By blabbing on you’ll just bring further humiliation upon yourself,” Zhang Qian told him.

“I have a face like the husk of a bamboo shoot—you can peel off layer after layer, and still I can take more humiliation. Have a heart and let me in. Once I have spoken to Master Han, I will leave.”

“You may scold or beat me, but I won’t let you in,” Li Wan said. “You’ll just pester the master and mistress for tea and food. I won’t suffer all that trouble on your behalf.”

When Xiangzi heard him speak like this, he blew a mouthful of magical pneuma in their faces, whereupon Zhang Qian and Li Wan sank into a deep slumber. Xiangzi dashed inside and beat his fisher drum.

“This vulgar Daoist has come again to bother me,” Tuizhi said. “This really is revolting. I’ll order the servants to give him forty strokes and then display him in a cangue outside the gate to serve as a warning to vagrant Buddhists and Daoists.”

When the servants moved to seize him, Xiangzi calmly blew a mouthful of magical pneuma at Scholar Lin’s horse groom Wang Xiao’er, whereupon the latter changed into the likeness of Xiangzi.

When Tuizhi saw his men running around in confusion, he shouted, “Are you blind? The Daoist clearly is standing in the corridor over there. Go seize him and stop chattering and prevaricating!” When the servants saw Tuizhi’s anger, they right away seized Wang Xiao’er, pinned him to the ground, and beat him with the bamboo stick. The real Xiangzi they did not see.

When Wang Xiao’er was seized and beaten, he screamed angrily, “I am Wang Xiao’er of the household of Scholar Lin! Why are you beating me?”

“That is the voice of my servant,” Scholar Lin said. “Lord Han, what business do you have beating him? If my servant has offended you, you should explain it to me before beating him. A proverb says, ‘When beating a dog, pay attention to its owner’s face.’ Why do you treat my servant in such an irregular fashion and without regard for propriety?”

“My apologies, but I am not to blame,” Tuizhi said. “I just ordered that criminal Daoist beaten. How would I dare beat your servant Wang Xiao’er? I believe the Daoist used the trick of ‘transferring the staff’ to deflect the strokes onto the body of your servant.”

“The vile scoundrel!” Scholar Lin said. “Where is he now? Let me lay hands on him and give him a sound beating in return.”

Xiangzi came forward and said, “Here I am.”

“We wanted to beat you because you came to disturb the lord Han’s banquet,” Lin shouted. “If you couldn’t bear the shame or pain, you should have escaped quickly—that would have been the proper course of action for an ascetic. Why do you insist on making trouble here and even let my servant be beaten in your place?”

“My lord, please do not blame me,” Xiangzi said. “This was a miraculous technique of the immortals, called ‘the golden cicada escapes its shell.’ I only dared to have your servant beaten in my place because he deserved it anyway. In this way I have helped him pay off some sins which otherwise would have brought him further calamities.”

“Wang Xiao’er had given no offense,” said Scholar Lin. “He suffered this beating for nothing, and yet you speak of paying off sins. I reckon you will now find it impossible to avoid your own calamities. Why don’t you just do some paying off on your own account?”

Wang Xiao’er said, “You and I both have skin and flesh given us by our parents, and being beaten hurts us both. You are generous at the expense of others, and you just do as you please. Take care not to overdo it!”

“He is a cunning and criminal Daoist. Don’t waste your breath on him,” Tuizhi recommended. “I’ll just chase him out. Only then will we have any peace.”

“It so happens that I won’t go,” said Xiangzi.

“If you refuse to go, what is it that you are waiting for?” asked Tuizhi.

“I will leave once you agree to leave the family with me,” Xiangzi told him.

“Agreeing or declining to leave the family depends on a person’s conviction,” Tuizhi said. “If you keep trying to force people into it, who will want to listen to you?”

“It isn’t that I don’t understand proper conduct and am trying to force you,” Xiangzi said. “It’s just that if you go wrong this time, you will suffer innumerable calamities and I will have no way of fulfilling my imperial mission. You, my lord, will fall into the realm of suffering to die and be reborn—I really have no choice.”

“Fulfill what imperial mission? Fall into what realm of suffering? Your words are irksome. Let me ask you something. In the four or five days since my birthday, you’ve disturbed my banquets every day, all the time claiming that you are a divine immortal. I have only heard you saying inauspicious things, but not seen you offering me any extraordinary object of the immortals as a birthday present. Shame on you!”

“You’re right,” Xiangzi acknowledged. “I have a magical painting to present to you. I wish you ten thousand years without end.”

“I have many good paintings, each worth at least 110 ounces of silver. In what way is your painting magical?”

“My lord, you may have many good paintings, but they are all dead. This painting of mine is alive. If you want it to grow, it grows. If you want it to shrink, it shrinks. The people in it can all be called out. Surely you have no such painting in your collection.”

“Where is it now? How big is it? Get it and hang it up here in the middle of the hall, so that my guests can appreciate it.”

“It’s twelve feet long and eight feet wide. It should just fit into your hall,” Xiangzi replied.

“Zhang Qian, get the picture fork and hang up this Daoist’s painting for me to look at,” Tuizhi directed.

Zhang Qian took the picture fork. “Sir, where is the painting?” he said.

“In my sleeve,” Xiangzi said. “Let me take it out.”

“You said it was twelve feet long and eight feet wide, and yet you claim to have it in your sleeve. Are you sure that you can make good on your boast?” said Zhang Qian.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Xiangzi responded. “Let me take it out and you’ll understand.”

In a leisurely manner Xiangzi pulled a painting from his sleeve and handed it to Zhang Qian, who hung it up. And indeed it was twelve feet long and eight feet wide. On it were painted many beautiful women, each one very lifelike and ravishing. Here is a poem to describe them:

Leaning on chiseled balustrades, they stroke their feathered headdresses,

Famous flowers who bring down nations by their seductiveness.

Beautiful eyebrows sweep the moon with their even, blackened lines;

Their cloud-high and raven-piled hair surpasses the Two Qiao Daughters.

On the bank of the Luo River an exquisite courtesan leaves a jade pendant;

On the phoenix terrace an immortal bestows a jade flute.

Although for lifelike portraits there is the brush of Sengyou,

Even in his paintings Mount Wu is cut off from the onlookers and the road is far.³

“I must admit, the painting is excellent,” Tuizhi said.

“As you have to come to congratulate the lord Han on his birthday, why haven’t you painted something with a longevity theme instead of these beautiful women? Do you want to compare the lord Han to Shi Chong?”⁴ asked Scholar Lin.

“The lord Han stands at court with a correct expression,” Xiangzi replied. “He walks his path uprightly. How could I compare him to that money-grabbing and petty miser? Just for the lord Han’s birthday, I went to the Bixia Grotto in the Zhongnan Mountains and borrowed these immortal maidens of the Eight Grottos from the Perfected Lady Bixia to congratulate him.”

“The beautiful women are well painted, but they are merely the works of a gifted artist. Why should they be immortal maidens of the Bixia Grotto?” Tuizhi said.

“All I desire is to deliver you, so that you may leave the family. So I borrowed the immortal maidens to serve wine to the assembled lords.”

“Only if you call them down will I believe that they are immortal maidens,” Tuizhi said.

“Nothing could be easier.” He pointed toward the picture and called, “Immortal Sisters, come down and offer wine to the guests.” And indeed, two of the beautiful women stepped down from the painting. What were they like?

Golden hairpins pointing downward at an angle, hair piled high like clouds obscuring the sun. Kingfisher-blue sleeves ingeniously tailored, lightly covering skin as white as auspicious snow. Cherry mouths, a light mist of delicate red. Spring bamboo hands, light and tender. Graceful, with slender waists; skirts of green gauze, showing the tips of golden lotus feet. White bodies, light yet full, red robes favoring their jade-like wrists. Their faces lovely as all the peach blossoms of the third moon, their eyebrows excelling the poplars and willows of early spring. Their fragrant flesh celebrated in songs to the tune “Jasper Terrace Moon,” their temples enveloped in kingfisher-like hair like clouds on the peaks of Chu.

The two maidens stepped forward and said, “Ten thousand blessings to you, lords.”

When the guests saw their matchless beauty, they said, “Lord Han, if Chang’e from the Moon Palace isn’t among them, they must at least be immortals from the Penglai Isles. If the Daoist were not a true divine immortal, how could he have invited them to descend?”

Xiangzi beat the fisher drum and called to the maidens to sing a song to the tune “Graceful Steps” and offer wine to the guests. The immortal maidens sang,

“The sea of suffering is vast, and many fathoms deep.

In all ages many were those who perished there—

Even heroes could not avoid it.

We steer the boat of compassion,

Securely carrying you away from the stormy waves.

If today you do not awaken to the threat of Death,

In the end you will like ordinary fish fall into its nets of green silk.”

(To the tune “Fresh Water”)

“If you are willing one morning to wave good-bye to your ruler,

Shed your court robes,

Don a cotton gown,

And leave the imperial palaces,

You will reach the land of waters and clouds.

Your sleeves fluttering,

Your sleeves fluttering,

Seek a recipe for eternal life without aging.”

Having finished their song, they suddenly disappeared and were seen no more in the painting. Xiangzi waved to the remaining immortal maidens in the painting and said, “Again I ask two immortal sisters to come down.” With an elegantly swaying gait two more maidens stepped down. A poem describes them well:

Eight lengths of gauze skirts, shoes three inches long,

Their seductive bodies betraying their immortal nature.

Jade maidens from the Nine Heavens have come to the ordinary world

To deliver Han Yu so he may return to his original home.

Slowly the immortal maidens stepped forward and uttered a greeting. Then Xiangzi beat the clapper and called, “Immortal Sisters, the lords are assembled here to celebrate a birthday and drink wine. How about singing a song to the ‘Mistletoe’ tune?” The immortal maidens put a cup of wine to Tuizhi’s mouth and sang,

“Alas, wealth and prestige are like candles in the wind,

A fleeting reputation like a bubble on water.

We admonish you: exchange your black silk hat for a cotton headcloth,

A patched robe, a fisher drum, and a blanket of auspicious clouds.

Who can reach the marvelous realm of the immortals?

Yet roaming free among the Five Lakes and Four Seas

Is better than a royal family’s patent of nobility.

“Strong winds make the waves foam;

Mice nibble until the withered cane falls.

Time is running out for you to let go and turn back.

Don’t wait until the mats are cold, the feast has broken up, and everyone has left.

Once you sink into the sea of suffering,

It will be difficult to drag you out and save you from eternal calamity.

Once your spirit is dispersed, your body will be changed beyond recognition.

How often will you find yourself in the den of ghosts?

In life your will is strong,

But you can’t win against time.

At that point, what use will high rank and office be?”

“Please return to the grotto palace,” Xiangzi said. “I ask two more maidens to come down and give their birthday congratulations.” The previous two maidens suddenly vanished, and two more danced in front of the assembled guests. Looking at them, the guests felt that they were even more elegant and beautiful than the last ones. How beautiful were they? Just look:

Loose hair in cloud-like fashion, pinned with azure jade. Graceful, slender waists, bound with six lengths of crimson silk skirt. Pure white gowns enveloping their snow-white bodies, light yellow soft stockings in curved shoes. Beautiful eyebrows knit in a pretty frown; alert phoenix eyes rivaling bright pearls. Painted faces looking down; fine, fragrant skin putting auspicious snow to shame. If it is not Chang-e of the Moon Cave, it must be the Xiang Empress or the Consort of the Luo River Banks.

Swirling and dancing in the air, they sang,

“Alas, throughout their lives people busy themselves for nothing.

Before they notice it, their temples have become frosted.

Although you may have accumulated a thousand loads of rice,

And gathered many thousand ounces of gold,

You ponder in vain,

And waste your energies in worrying.

You would hate not to own as much property as Shi Chong,

Not to be as rich and powerful as Wang Kai,

And not to have the Lord of Mengchang’s long rows of retainers.

But, when all is said and done, it is difficult to sleep in two beds,

Or eat a peck of grain in a day.

When one day the Great Limit is upon you,

Which of your own sons

And your own daughters

Can enter Death in your stead?

A recipe for not dying cannot be bought;

Not being subject to Death cannot be bought.

Even if you had the Venerable Lord Li’s elixir,

The face of the Buddha Shakyamuni,

The literary skills of Confucius,

The divinatory abilities of the Duke of Zhou,

The magical recipes of the famed physicians Bian Que and Cang Gong—

Each and every one of them has perished!

Who among the people of the world will dare measure his strength with King Yama?

Say you were to imitate the king of Liang,

And buy fields

To leave to your sons.

What if you beget a wastrel

Who will squander everything?

In the third month, when the flowers open,

Everyone hangs paper money outside the cities,

A hundred kinds of offering will be carried out and set out before the graves,

Where filial sons shed streams of tears.

Yet how many of the dead have ever been moistened by them?

Today you still have things to eat

And things to wear.

Quickly turn back and study immortality;

Then you will attain freedom.

If you refuse to soon extract yourself,

You won’t avoid a deep slumber in the realm of shades.”

“Whichever way you change it, it is always just two maidens. What’s special about that?” Tuizhi said. “You say this and you say that, but it always just comes down to saying that it isn’t good for me to be an official—not really novel, either! From now on anyone arguing against officialdom will be slapped on the mouth ten times—not excluding that young Daoist.”

“My lord, why do you have to get annoyed?” The immortal maidens said. “Let us sing you a song to the “Golden Oriole” tune:

“We admonish you not to be angry

And explode in fury.

Good and bad luck, calamities and blessings, are sent down by Heaven;

Even among those standing in the halls of the court,

Who dares to resist?

How long can high office last?

Think about it carefully:

Once the ruler’s wrath is roused,

You will be banished to a faraway place.”

“I am upright at court and honest and frugal in my private life,” Tuizhi shouted. “For what offense would I be banished? Even these girls talk in a disorderly fashion. Throw them out, and don’t allow them to stir up trouble here!”

“My lord, don’t be angry,” Xiangzi said. “Another immortal maiden is coming to drink with you.” To the tune “Dragon in a Turbid River,” the maiden sang,

“Your seat is at the top of officialdom,

Placed at the highest rank, you enjoy honor and glory.

True, you are honest and frugal,

And serve the court with uprightness.

At the palace you attend upon the ruler wearing your jade-hung girdle;

At home you feast guests for days in a row.

You trust to your power and might,

And your reputation in all quarters.

Great men in high office have always faced calamities equally great.

While traveling through dangerous waters, it is difficult to turn your boat around.

I am afraid one morning you will submit a memorial,

And in the evening be banished without mercy.”

Tuizhi was greatly enraged and called to his attendants, “Take this girl and deliver her to the Judicial Office on the charge of fabricating lies and insulting an official.”

Xiangzi said, “As a former Vice Minister of Justice, you surely know that for any offenses of a woman her husband is held responsible. However, this girl is right in saying that it is risky to hold a high office. She did not mean to be disrespectful to you. Furthermore, she doesn’t have a husband here. How would you find him and send him to the Judicial Office? Please don’t be angry. Here’s another immortal maiden. How about listening to her sing a song to the tune ‘Black Gauze Robe’?”

“Sir, you need not upset yourself,” Scholar Lin said. “These people are like birds in a basket or fish in a cauldron—if you want to detain them, you can do so at any time. Where could they escape to? Why not listen to this girl sing?” Xiangzi beat the fisher drum and the immortal maiden sang,

“Those who are soft and weak can live in peace and freedom,

Those who are hard and strong bring calamities and disasters upon themselves.

If you idly fight and like to struggle, trouble will come;

If you shut your mouth and hide, no harm will come to you.

If you peacefully keep your lot,

Your worried frown will relax and open up.

Time is limited;

If success does not come in youth,

You need to be patient.”

“A well-sung song,” Scholar Lin said. “Have another cup.”

“This girl admonishes people to patience, which is quite right. Sing another song and I will reward you richly,” Tuizhi said.

“You can’t make up previous omissions by wearing fur coats in summer,” the immortal maiden said. “The wastrel son can’t be reformed with a thousand pieces of gold. I’d rather drag my tail in the mud and take up residence in Elysium and the Penglai Isles. I am not sullied by a mind keen on profit, so why do you speak of rich rewards, sir?” Xiangzi beat the fisher drum and she sang once more:

“I admonish you, sir, to be calm.

How long can spring flowers remain red?

What use are piled up gold and jade?

I sigh at the fate of Shi Chong of the Golden Valley.

I laugh at Zhuge Liang, the Sleeping Dragon of South Yang.

Present and past are all but dreams.

Study it carefully and you will find

That Fan Li who returned to the lakes

Attained true peace and honor.”

“You got talk like this from that vulgar Daoist,” Tuizhi said. “It’s revolting! I don’t want to listen to it here. Throw her out, now!”

As soon as Tuizhi said “Throw her out,” Zhang Qian, Li Wan, and many others crowded in to chase the immortal maiden and evict her. She, however, vanished into thin air. On the wall there was left hanging an empty sheet of white paper, without a single immortal maiden, or any poems or landscape. Hanging there just like the funerary scrolls made in scroll-mounting shops, it excited Tuizhi’s rage. Viciously he said, “This criminal Daoist is clearly out to bully and insult me by acting in such an inauspicious manner. Disgusting!” Truly,

Seeing off guests with pleasant words keeps one warm through the winter months.

Harming others with malicious talk makes you shiver in summer.

What was the outcome of Tuizhi’s wrath? Please listen to the explanations of the next chapter.