Teacher.
The superintendent replied, “As the Emperor wishes to save the people you must carry out his orders. You must therefore purify yourself by fasting, dress in plain rough clothes, then go by yourself with the Imperial edict on your back, step by step up the mountain, and then you may have the chance of seeing the Heavenly Teacher. But if your heart is not truly sincere, that may spoil your chance of meeting him.”
“Since I left the capital,” said Hong Xin, “I have been a strict vegetarian so how could my intentions be other than absolutely sincere? Such being the case I will follow your advice and go up the mountain tomorrow.”
The following morning about 4 A.M. the priests prepared the fragrant water and invited the envoy to bathe. After bathing he put on new rough clothes and straw sandals; wrapped the Imperial edict in yellow silk and fastened it on his back; took a silver bowl with burning incense in his hands. He took leave of the priests and set off saying prayers as he walked. After some time the path became steeper, and he had to take hold of bushes and trees to pull himself up. He had traversed several summits, and began to feel extremely fatigued. It was now very hard walking, and he became hesitant as to whether to go forward or not. He thought of the pleasant, easy times he used to have in the Capital with rich varied food and comfortable beds. There he never wore rough clothes, and straw sandals, and was never tired like this. Why did they send him to experience such bitterness of soul? How could he find the Heavenly Teacher?
He struggled on for about fifty paces more, but was now panting for breath. A strong gust of wind blew down the ravine, and roared through the pines. Just then he saw a tiger rush out from the trees, and was so afraid and startled that he fell down. The tiger examined the envoy, walked round him, but after roaring returned to the forest. Hong Xin lay there, his teeth grinding and his heart beating like “a chain of buckets raising water from a well.” His sensation became numb, and he seemed paralyzed. His legs could not move, and seemed like a defeated cock after a fight. He began to whine about his fate.
But after a short time his spirits gradually revived, and he continued his walk. He was, however, still short of breath, and began again to complain of the hardness of the way. He muttered, “The Emperor gave me a very hard task,” but before he had finished this a very noxious wind burst forth. He stared round, and saw an enormous speckled snake rattling among some bamboos. He was startled and throwing away his bowl, fell down near a large stone, exclaiming, “I shall certainly die this time!” The snake glided towards him, and coiled up at his side. It showed a yellow light in its eyes, opened wide its mouth, and blew a poisonous vapor in his face. This so frightened him that he fainted, but the snake soon left him.
When he regained consciousness he saw that his body was as chilly as having been thrown into an icy river. He soliloquized, “I was almost frightened to death! I never suspected that priest of deceiving me. What a shock I had! If I don’t find the Heavenly Teacher, I shall have something to say to that priest when I get back.” He, however, picked up his incense bowl, put on his headdress, straightened his garments, and prepared to try again. He had taken only a few steps when he heard the sound of a flute which was being played somewhere among the trees. Looking round he saw an acolyte riding on a yellow ox playing a flute, with a smiling countenance.
Hong spoke to him, “Where do you come from? Do you recognize me?”
The boy did not reply, but continued playing the flute.
Hong asked the same questions several times, and at last the boy laughed and pointing his flute at him replied, “Have you come here to see the Heavenly Teacher?”
“As you are only a cowherd how is it that you know my affairs?”
“Early this morning I waited upon the Heavenly Teacher, and he told me that you had been commissioned by the Emperor to bring an edict here inviting him to go to the Capital to offer prayers to Heaven to stop the pestilence. He said that he was going to mount his stork, and fly off to the Capital at once. So I think he may have gone, and may not be at the temple. You need not go up the mountain as there are many poisonous snakes and fierce beasts on this mountain, which might endanger your life.”
“You cannot lie to me,” said Hong, but the acolyte did not reply to this, and went on his way playing his flute.
The envoy thought, “How can the boy know as much as he says, it may be that the Heavenly Teacher has told him to say this so as to test my perseverance. But as I have already met so many frightful things perhaps it would be better if I now get back.” So he retraced his steps.
Upon reaching the temple at the foot of the mountain he was asked by the priests whether he had seen the Heavenly Teacher. He told them what frightful experiences he had had, and said he suspected them of merely trifling with an Imperial Envoy.
“How dare we poor Taoists treat you disrespectfully?” replied the abbot. “These trials might have been arranged by the Heavenly Teacher to test your perseverance. The snakes and tigers on this mountain do not injure people.”
“As I was going to struggle up the mountain, I saw a cowherd coming out of a pine forest on a yellow cow, playing a flute who told me that the Heavenly Teacher had flown away on a crane this morning to the Eastern Capital, and so I returned.”
“What a pity that you missed such a fine opportunity! That cowherd was the Heavenly Teacher himself!”
“In that case why did he appear in such a strange way?”
“Because he is not an ordinary man. He is only young, but his supernatural power is unbounded. He is not a common person. His power is omnipotent. The people all praise him as the Master of the Tao.”
“I am so ignorant that I have failed to deliver the edict.”
“Never mind! As the Heavenly Teacher meant to go, I think the prayers may have been over and the pestilence already vanished when you get back to the Eastern Capital.”
The Imperial edict was replaced in the cover, and put in the Hall of Three Purities. A feast was then prepared for the envoy.
After breakfast the following morning the abbot suggested that they should stroll round the monastery for a sight-seeing. They did so, and spent some time going round all the temple buildings. One of these attracted Marshal Hong Xin’s attention. It was surrounded by a red mud wall; the entrance had a large red door with two leaves which were fastened by a very big lock. There were about ten strips of paper sealing the door, and these were all stamped with red seals; above the door was a board with four gilt characters, “The Subdued Demons Hall.” The envoy asked what the Hall was used for, and was informed that a previous Heavenly Teacher had subdued many demons, and imprisoned them there.
“But why are there so many seals on the door?”
“During the Tang dynasty the Heavenly Teacher Dong Xuan subdued the king of the demons, and locked him up inside this Hall. The succeeding generations have each added another seal so that is may never be opened. If those devils ever got out there would be a great calamity. Now about nine generations have passed, and no one ever attempted to tamper with this arrangement. Molten copper has been poured into the lock so that it is impossible to unlock the door. I have lived here for thirty years, and this is all that I have heard of but nobody knows what is inside.
Marshal Hong Xin felt very curious at this, and had a desire to investigate so he said to the superintendent, “Please open the door, and I will see what this king of the demons is like.”
“We dare not do that. Our former masters enjoined us not to open it and we cannot presume to disobey the order.”
The
