Gleamed treasures from ancient ruined dynasties,
Like jewels spread out upon the richest tapestry,
Gifts from the palace of the emperor
Proclaiming Chin to be that reign’s prime minister.
Headman Zhou led Ji Gong into the interior. There, Headman Zhou would make his report, and there the lohan would exercise the arts of Buddha and make manifest their powers.
As Ji Gong was led further into the residence by Headman Zhou, he saw that the old master of the temple, together with the superintendent, the attendant, and some others were standing along the veranda. When the monk arrived in front of the summerhouse, he did not kneel as the others had. Prime Minister Qin looked out at him through the bamboo blind and now realized that he was only a poor, ragged Buddhist priest.
Prime Minister Qin slapped the table before him loudly as he spoke. “You have a lot of gall for a crazy monk! I sent my household people to the temple to borrow some large timbers in a friendly way, not acting as if they were carrying out official duties. But you dared to use your demonic arts and beat my managers. Tell me the truth!”
The monk then wanted to explain how the managers had wanted to tear down the Great Memorial Pagoda, and how he had told them not to, and how the fight had started—but of these things he did not speak. Instead the monk said, “Oh great man, you still ask me! You hold the office of prime minister established by the three great councils, an office in which one should promote goodness, perform virtuous deeds, and bring about general prosperity. Now, without reason, you tear down and destroy buildings on Buddhist land—the more I think of it, the more my anger as a monk rises. Let the great man have me thrown down and given forty strokes of the bamboo and then ask again!”
When Prime Minister Qin heard these words, he broke into a rage and said, “What a brave, crazy priest! How do you dare to criticize a great minister? Come! You two from the left and right there, seize this crazy monk and throw him to the ground. Give him a good forty strokes for me.”
Now these bamboo clubs used in punishments at the home of the prime minister were more terrible than those used anywhere else, because the hollow parts of the bamboo were filled with water. No matter how strong a man might be, forty strokes would break skin and bones. When Ji Gong heard the order given to beat him and the two men were about to begin, he pulled himself loose from their grasp. He leapt between the old temple master and the superintendent of the monks and stood among the other monks.
Three of the household people came over and thrust out their arms to grasp Ji Gong and throw him down upon the ground saying, “Very good, monk! You think you can hide from us and that will be the end of it.”
One held his head down and one held his feet. The monk’s head was to the west. The man with the bamboo stood at the south so that the prime minister could witness the punishment. The man raised the bamboo and administered forty strokes. The monk said not a word. After the three had finished, they stepped aside.
When the prime minister looked, he shouted, “You dog heads! I told you to beat the crazy monk! Why did you beat the superintendent?”
The three looked and felt a bit odd. Just now they had been sure that they were holding the mad monk. How could he have changed into Superintendent Guang Liang?
Guang Liang was now able to say, “Ai ya! You have killed me!” Up to this moment his mouth had been covered and he had been unable to speak during the forty blows. There was broken skin, wounded flesh, and much blood!
CHAPTER 10
Prime Minister Qin sees a ghostly spirit in a dream; Ji Gong comes by night to exercise the arts of Buddha
Only from the most extravagant hopes in the most simple heart,
May the profoundest changes come to pass.
The serenity of moonlit mountain peaks
May be reflected on the storm-tossed sea;
The frightened boatman sees and calmly steers his craft.
Such is the peace reflected from within the Buddhist’s heart.
PRIME Minister Qin summoned a new set of executioners, saying, “Give this crazy monk forty heavy strokes for me. Now, my good mad priest, if I do not have you beaten, I swear that you need not call me a man.”
So three executioners came before the summerhouse. One seized Ji Gong and said, “This time, monk, we will not beat the wrong one.”
Ji Gong said, “You have me. I will go.”
The three men shouted, “Are you trying to waste our time? Get down!”
Ji Gong asked, “Do you monks make bedding in that shop of yours?” pretending he thought that their bamboo staves were used to beat cotton into floss.
The executioners replied, “Don’t pretend that you don’t know what’s going on. We are going to beat you more than cotton is beaten in a cotton-floss shop!”
They forced Ji Gong down. One of them sat astride Ji Gong’s head and shoulders while grasping his ears, and another sat astride his legs. The third man uncovered the back of Ji Gong’s body and raised the bamboo. Prime Minister Qin called out, “Strike! Strike! Strike!”
The executioner brought the bamboo down with great force, but missed Ji Gong by more than a foot. Not only that, but the bamboo hit the executioner who was astride Ji Gong’s head and shoulders squarely in the back with a resounding thwack, and knocked him three or four paces away.
Holding his back with both hands, the fellow yelled, “Ai yah! Ai yah! You’re trying to kill me. Good, good, good! When you wanted me to lend you two hundred cash, I didn’t, and you have been holding a grudge against me ever since.”
Prime Minister Qin was extremely angry. He told the three men to stand back and ordered another three to come forward, saying, “Give this crazy priest eighty strokes for me. If I do not beat you, you crazy monk, I swear that I will no longer be an official.”
Ji Gong countered, “I swear that if you do not get this business over with, I will no longer be a monk.”
As the new executioners came up, one said, “Let me sit astride his head and shoulders, Qin Shun can hold down his legs, and you take the bamboo. But do not let the bamboo miss the mark.”
So they stretched out Ji Gong. Then the bamboo came down with a blow, but right in the middle of the back of the one holding Ji Gong’s legs and knocked him forward.
Inside the summerhouse, as the prime minister watched, he understood. The first time, the executioners had mistakenly beaten the superintendent of the monks. The second time, the man holding Ji Gong’s head and shoulders had been struck. This time, the man holding Ji Gong’s legs was hit. These surely were examples of the magical arts arising from the monk’s heretical practices. He therefore instructed some of his household servants to go and get a large hanging scroll from the great hall. He thought that the writing on the scroll, which affirmed that he was indeed the prime minister of the present reign, would overawe the monk and vanquish his magic.
The prime minister stepped down out of the summerhouse and advanced. Lying there on the ground, Ji Gong looked up and opened his eyes. The anger of Prime Minister Qin was so clearly shown on his face that it frightened nearly everyone who saw him. When he shouted, “Strike! Strike! Strike!” this time, who dared to hinder him? The next group of evil-looking executioners came forward. One of them raised the bamboo and brought it down with great force, but it flew out of his hands and hit the prime minister. The man was frightened out of his wits by his carelessness.
When the prime minister saw how things were going, he was in a towering rage. Bending his back, he picked up the bamboo stave and looked at it, intending the beat the monk himself. Suddenly he heard a clamor from the inner apartments. Prime Minister Qin was greatly surprised. It had long been the rule in his household that other than the prime minister himself, there