Adventures of the Mad Monk Ji Gong. Guo Xiaoting
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The superintendent of the monks first said to the abbot, “The temple master knows that here in an eminent temple Ji Dian has failed to obey the regulations. Since he has stolen temple property, he must be punished according to our laws.”
When the master of the temple, Yuan Kong, heard this, he thought to himself: “Dao Ji, if you have stolen temple property, I cannot ask them to accept this. Even though I would like to give you sanctuary, there is nothing I can say.” Then he said to the others, “Just have the people bring him forward.”
When Ji Gong came into the front room of the master of the temple he said, “Oh, there you are, Elder Monk. I have been meditating.” Whenever he saw the senior monk, Ji Gong spoke in this manner. Yuan Kong for his part did not require him to kneel and touch his forehead to the ground in the traditional kowtow.
The abbot said to him, “Dao Ji, you have not been keeping the temple rules. You have stolen temple property. How shall you be punished?”
“Destroy his garments, his rice bowl, and the certificate of his Buddhist vow! Send him out of the temple! Do not authorize him to be a monk!” exclaimed the superintendent of the monks.
The old master of the temple said to himself, “I will simply censure him severely.” He then said to Ji Gong, “Dao Ji, take out the things that you have stolen and show them to us.”
“Teacher, they are truly taking advantage of me. I have been sleeping in the Hall of the Great Treasures. While I was sweeping the floor, I noticed that there was no trash container, so I was carrying everything out in my arms. Wait and I’ll show you.” Having said this, Ji Gong loosened the flat silken cords that tied the matting, and with a thunderous noise the dirt and dust from inside fell to the floor.
The master of the temple, in an extremely angry voice, said, “Superintendent Guang Liang, you have maliciously accused a good person of stealing. This merits severe censure. Beat the sounding board and call the monks together. Instruct them that the entire temple must be thoroughly swept.”
The monks all assembled hurriedly, each one paying no attention to anyone else and each making a great deal of noise. In the confusion, Ji Gong walked out of the temple unnoticed. He went out through the monastery gate, down the mountainside, and into the forest near the West Lake.
CHAPTER 2
Dong Shihong sells a daughter to bury a relative; the living lohan rescues a virtuous man
Where does the Spirit dwell?
From home you need not part.
The way’s not deep or far.
A spring’s beneath your heart.
There’s help for those who seek;
Don’t be ashamed to ask
Nor fear that you may not
Be equal to the task.
AS Ji Gong walked into the forest beside the West Lake, he suddenly saw a man preparing to hang himself. The monk understood at once a great deal about the man, having made a quick estimate of the man’s natural inclination to goodness.
The man was surnamed Dong, with the personal name of Shihong, and his native place was Qiantang prefecture in the province of Zhejiang. His unusual filial piety was shown in his treatment of his mother, who was named Qin Shi, because she came from the Qin family. He had lost his father early in life. Dong Shihong’s wife, Du Shi, had died young, leaving a daughter named Yujie, who was very intelligent and bright.
Dong Shihong was an artisan who beat gold into sheets of gold leaf. When his daughter was eight years old, his mother, Qin Shi, became bedridden with a severe illness. Though he took care of her, the family was poor, and he was unable to manage its affairs. Therefore he pawned his daughter, Yujie, to go as a serving maid in the home of scholar Gu in exchange for fifty ounces of silver. He used the money to take care of the old lady.
When his mother did not see Yujie, she asked, “Where is my granddaughter?”
Dong Shihong said that she had gone to stay with her aunt. His mother’s sickness worsened; she was unable to get up for seven days, and suddenly she was dead. He then had to use the few ounces of silver remaining for her funeral.
He then went to the town of Jiangfu and there worked continuously, carrying the heaviest load of work possible. With great difficulty he accumulated the sixty ounces of fine silver ingots needed to repay the original amount he had borrowed, plus interest. At last, he thought, he could redeem his daughter and take her back to the family home.
Along the road he talked to no one. When he reached Linan, he stayed overnight at the Yuelai Inn outside the Qiantang gate. He had his silver with him. The next day he walked on to Baijiajuan and began asking about senior graduate Gu. The neighbors all said that old master Gu had been promoted to the foreign office, and they did not know where he was performing his official duties. When Dong Shihong heard this, it was as if he had been standing at the top of an immensely tall pagoda and had lost his footing.
At the bank of the Qiantang River, he asked all the workers who pulled the old decaying barges up and down the river whether they remembered moving the household furniture of official Gu. No one knew which way the eminent master Gu had gone, nor did they know what had become of Dong Shihong’s daughter.
When Dong Shihong came to the outside of the Qiantang gate, he had a few drinks in his sorrow at the India Street Inn. Hardly knowing it, he became drunk and entered the land of dreams. Waking, he left the inn, and shortly after stopped to look around. Without realizing it, he had taken the wrong road and was lost himself. He had also lost the silver ingots. Somehow, just as he had awakened, he had touched his clothing and the silver had fallen out. The shock of this discovery was overwhelming, and he was unable to endure the realization.
As he walked toward the forest, the more he thought, the more life lost its flavor. He thought he would never be able to see his daughter’s face again. Existence had become worse than death. He felt that he was suffering the consequence of a terrible sin. Thinking these thoughts as he walked into the forest, he unwound the long sash from around his waist and made it into a noose, intending to hang himself.
Suddenly he saw coming toward him from the opposite direction a Buddhist monk who was saying to himself, “Dead, dead! Once dead and that’s the end. Death is better than living. I want to hang myself, so I have taken off my sash. Now I want to tie it up in the tree.”
Dong Shihong was quite surprised to hear this. Raising his head, he saw that the monk presented a most unseemly appearance.
Head unshaven, face unwashed,
Drink-blurred, slanting, blinking eyes;
Whether stupid or acting so,
Or dangerously mad,
His tattered clothing full of holes,
His long sash tied into a noose,
And monks’ shoes worn to shreds,
With legs half bare and ankles red,
He’d