Xiu Zhibing was extremely refined and intelligent. He agreed at once to the monk’s request and asked everyone to sit down and drink with him.
At the third watch they heard a sound outside, and a voice. “I am the spirit and I have come. Senior Monk Ji Gong, who is above others, I have brought the five-thunder, eight-trigram prince’s tally scroll.”
Ji Gong quickly went out and saw Zhao Bin and Yin Shixiong on the roof.
Earlier that evening, after handing over Xiu Zhibing to Ji Gong, Zhao Bin had returned to the flower garden. As soon as he met Yin Shixiong, they immediately hurried over to the five-story pavilion. This pavilion had twenty-five rooms, all of spacious proportions. It was entirely covered inside, with paper folded into pleats for extra warmth and comfort. In the center of the building outside was a hanging balcony. Yin Shixiong climbed up and went into the adjoining room.
There on a table he saw a small hardwood box. Opening it, he saw that inside was the actual prince’s tally. On it were the characters “five thunders” surrounded by the eight sets of trigrams, each consisting of three whole and or broken parallel lines in various combinations, as they were used for divination.
Zhao Bin said, “We have finished, brother. Let us go together.”
Yin Shixiong replied, “After we leave, things will be in chaos here.”
Zhao Bin asked, “What do you mean?”
“Think about it,” Yin Shixiong said. “The person who bought the scroll is the prime minister of this present dynasty. If he loses this treasured piece, would he not go to the local officials? Would not the local officials carry out extensive investigations to get to the bottom of it? Could the great numbers of suspects escape from being brought in to be questioned, and perhaps from being beaten to death?”
So saying, he took out fire-making implements and set fire to one of the paper-covered window lattices. As the two men fled from the estate over the roofs, they could see the light from a great fire behind them.
It was like a golden serpent leaping wildly with a trail of sparks. Then the fierce power of the blazing flames broke through everywhere. The fire followed the winds like waves. There was a sound of “Hu! Hu!” as if a monster were breathing within the concealing smoke, while a red glow illuminated heaven and earth.
Well before this, the two men had sped away over the walls of nearby estates. Using their skills, they flew over the houses until they reached the rooftop of the Li home, where Zhao Bin called out: “I am here. The spirit has come!”
Ji Gong came out and, reaching up, took the scroll from Zhao Bin and handed up to him a yellow bag. In it were five hundred cash, an incense burner filled with rice, and five bowls filled with small cakes. Such a gift was indeed appropriate for a temple image.
The monk said, “Take it, venerable Wei Tuo. This contains the material thanks of this household.”
Up above, Zhao Bin took it and called out, “I, the spirit, am leaving.” Then, with Yin Shixiong, he went home to his mother.
Now Ji Gong took the five-thunder, eight-trigram prince’s tally scroll inside. When it was unrolled, it was seen to be the correct one. Li Guoyuan quickly sent it by a trusted servant to give it to Li Chunshan.
Li Guoyuan and his guests sat drinking and talking through the rest of the night. When morning came, Ji Gong took his leave. Li Guoyuan wanted to give him gold or silver, but Ji Gong said, “If you want to thank me, let our relationship simply continue as it is now. As a monk, I will appreciate your care in helping Xiu Zhibing to go on with his studies.”
Li Guoyuan agreed and Ji Gong left.
As he walked straight along on his way, he saw a man standing in front of him. The man, who seemed to be an attendant, said, “Where is Ji Gong going?”
The monk asked, “Who are you?”
The attendant replied, “The man who owns our inn has been given forty strokes with the bamboo, and he has wounds from the beating. I hear that you, sir, have the pill of the immortals containing a subtle medicine. I beg you to cure him.”
The monk asked, “Who is the owner of your inn?”
The attendant replied. “The man who founded the Thrice Lucky Inn is Han Dianyuan. He was the superintendent of the prime minister’s estate. Because last night the great pavilion in the flower garden was lost in a fire, the prime minister was very angry. He said that Han Dianyuan had neglected his duty. Han Dianyuan was given forty strokes with the big bamboo and is now suffering from pain.”
When the monk heard this, he went with the man to the Thrice Lucky Inn. As soon as he entered the cashier’s room, he saw Han Dianyuan, who was lying down and groaning continuously. Several friendly waiters were standing around him, advising and trying to comfort him. When they saw the monk come in, they said, “Success! The honorable teacher indeed has the pill of the immortals made from subtle medicine. The great teacher is especially compassionate.”
The monk laughed and pointed at the suffering man. “Even with subtle medicine it is difficult to heal an illness that is a punishment for a person’s own evil acts. Heaven above quickly requites merciless men.”
These words struck Han Dianyuan to the core. He thought to himself: “This monk knows things that others do not. During the night I sent Yin Shixiong to kill Xiu Zhibing, to whom my daughter has long been promised. I did not see Yin Shixiong return, but the young man and his servant went away. Then for no reason the great pavilion was lost in a fire.” He thought about it and then asked, “Holy monk, could Your Reverence save me? I repent.”
The monk replied, “I will take care of you and cure your sickness. Will you give your daughter in marriage to Xiu Zhibing, or not?”
Han Dianyuan answered, “If I can be better, I will gladly ask Xiu Zhi-bing to return and give him my daughter. I will have no more evil thoughts. I have been driven out of the prime minister’s estate. I now do not dare to let evil rule my heart. If I were to let evil into my heart again, I fear that heaven and earth would destroy me.”
The monk gave him some medicine that immediately relieved his pain. The monk then told him to go to the home of Li Guoyuan to receive back Xiu Zhibing as the husband-to-be of his daughter. Han Dianyuan bowed his head in assent.
CHAPTER 8
A false order from the prime minister commands that the Great Pagoda be pulled down; the vagabond saint manifests his powers to punish the evil lower officials
NOW, from that day when Ji Gong had left the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat, he had been staying sometimes at the home of Su Beishan, and sometimes at the home of Zhao Wenhui. Today he had been playing chess in the home of Su Beishan with Su Yuanwai. Suddenly Ji Gong moved a chess piece that committed him to the attack. At the same moment, Ji Gong’s thoughts turned to the temple, and by the light of his intuition he knew what was taking place there.
At once he slapped his hand on the table three times and said, “Su Beishan, I cannot remain here in your home. I must go immediately. Prime Minister Qin has sent people to demolish the Great Memorial Pagoda in my temple. I am going to fight with this Prime Minister Qin.”
Su Beishan said, “Saintly monk, you cannot. It is he who is the prime minister. He ranks with the most glorious nobles. My teacher is a man who has left the world.
