did not dare to keep him because he was obviously a runaway from a good family.
Li Xiuyuan next went to the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat that occupied a large tract of ground facing the city from across the West Lake, considered to be one of the most beautiful spots in China. There he asked to see the master of the temple.
The abbot, Yuan Kong, a Buddhist of the ninth degree, was aged and feeble, but his mind was still strong and his understanding profound. When Xiuyuan was brought before him, the old monk knew at once that the youth was the reincarnation of the golden-bodied lohan who subju-gates tigers and dragons. Lohan were commonly believed to be powerful spirits of former teachers of Buddhism, filled with infinite compassion. However, in order to enter Nirvana, the state of having attained enlightenment and the freeing of the self, these lohan had to pass through countless reincarnations because of the burden of their human faults.
The abbot could not change the direction of the boy’s destiny, but he could help him with his teaching. The abbot was master of nine different schools of Buddhism. He, therefore, was able to train a disciple in whichever of these denominations seemed most suitable. After observing Xiuyuan’s natural gifts and disposition, the old man decided that the boy should become a Chan monk, “Chan” being the Chinese pronunciation of “Zen” in Japanese. The abbot named him Dao Ji, meaning “salvation through Buddhist wisdom.” He would no longer use the name Xiuyuan.
Chan Buddhism stressed meditation, but it also laid great emphasis on using insight and rational thinking to solve problems and find practical solutions. Chan monks during the Song dynasty had already earned a reputation for challenging Buddhist rules and ignoring conventional social behavior.
Even in tranquil courtyards bright with flowers,
You dare not say all’s well. Though walls and gates
Be higher than the tallest tall man’s head,
Malicious spirits that may hear such words
Will fly like locusts to invade each quiet spot.
Confucian duties, Daoist spells
And Buddha’s promise of release from karma’s chains
Together share the minds of thoughtful folk.
Both heaven and hell with countless gods and demons
Mirror the earth in all its vast complexity.
Souls of the dead roam ceaselessly
Until they may be born on earth once more.
On earth among the living, wandering monks of Chan
Respect what seems the best in every discipline,
Yet mock pretense and all external trappings
And work mysteriously to gain their ends.
The prevailing practice in the Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat was more conservative, however, and many of the monks felt that this Chan novice was pursuing ideas contrary to their own. It was inevitable that he should be criticized, and even taunted. Once, while meditating, he remained so long in concentration that he became confused and disoriented. As a result, some of the others began to call him Ji Dian, meaning “Mad Ji.” Thereafter the rumor persisted, and even spread beyond the monastery, that he was indeed insane.
In spite of efforts to destroy his reputation, he afterward became known as Ji Gong by many people outside the monastery. During some earlier dynasties, “Gong” had been the title of a duke. Thus, when people called him Ji Gong, it was very much like calling him High and Noble Lord Ji. It was a title reserved for those most revered and appreciated.
As for the young Dao Ji, he passed through his three years of training, ignoring the taunts. He received his certificate and became a full-fledged monk. Even then, however, he was not accepted by the other monks, and his isolation from them grew.
Here and there about the monastery Dao Ji observed that individuals had little hoards of money that they had kept from the offerings of the visiting faithful. This all too common practice of subtracting a percentage of everything that fell into one’s hands was called a “squeeze.” The monks used their squeeze for new robes or sandals, or for some extra food beyond the day’s single meal.
Every few days Dao Ji would take the money from one or two of the little hoards and disappear from the monastery. He would spend the money in restaurants dining on dishes made with meat and fish and drinking wine, all of which he particularly loved. When people used to say to him that monks should eat only vegetarian meals, he responded with half-concealed mockery, saying, “The founder of Buddhism left us a verse which goes, ‘Some improve their hearts but neglect their mouths; others help their mouths but neglect their hearts.’ If I only improve my heart but neglect my mouth, then I would be failing to maintain my body and so be ungrateful to Guang Liang, the superintendent of the monks, who is like my father and mother who gave me this body.”
After a day or two in the city, he would return and, except for attending the noon meal, he would usually spend his time studying alone in the upper part of the Great Memorial Pagoda.
Shortly before this period, the superintendent of monks was transferred to another temple. The monks chose one of their group, Guang Liang, to be the new superintendent. He ranked next to the abbot in authority. Guang Liang was just a little bit fat from the tidbits he snatched between meals, and his smooth, moon-shaped face had a look of calm and benign authority. However, Dao Ji knew that the new superintendent was a man without learning and that there was certainly nothing holy about him. Dao Ji could see nothing in him except an ambitious desire to control the great Monastery of the Soul’s Retreat.
The old abbot who had been Dao Ji’s teacher was a wise and saintly man. The thought that Guang Liang would one day take the place of the abbot was intolerable to Dao Ji. When the costly silk patchwork robe was placed on display before being presented to Guang Liang by the monks, Dao Ji waited for his chance. When no one was watching, he stole the robe and pawned it. That night he feasted in the city. In the morning he returned and pasted the pawn ticket high on the monastery gate.
When Superintendent Guang Liang saw that the robe was gone, he sent the monks looking for it everywhere. The monks were not permitted to paste announcements or anything else on the monastery gate, so when some of them saw the piece of paper pasted high on the gate, they removed it. When they saw what it was, they took it to redeem the robe. Guang Liang meanwhile went to the master of the temple, the abbot, and complained: “The crazy monk in this temple is not peaceful and virtuous according to our rules. He constantly steals all the monk’s clothing, money, and other things. These actions call for severe measures! We must control him now and punish him for his offenses!”
The master of the temple, Yuan Kong, countered: “Dao Ji has no stolen goods in his possession; he cannot be punished. What you should do is carry out a secret investigation and, if there is evidence of theft, bring him to me.”
Superintendent Guang Liang dispatched two acolytes to keep Ji Gong under secret observation. Ji Gong was sleeping in the Hall of Great Treasures with his head on the altar table. The two little monks, Zhi Ching and Zhi Ming, exercising great caution, watched him each day. One day they saw him come out stealthily from the great hall and go around looking everywhere for some time. Afterward he looked in at the hall, went back inside, and came out again, walking furtively. He was holding close to his chest an old mat wrapped around something. Just as he was walking along the center of an old alley between some buildings in the temple grounds, he saw Zhi Ching and Zhi Ming,
