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, who said, “Good Ji Dian, what did you steal now? You can stop thinking about getting away.” Going over and thrusting out their arms, they caught Ji Gong and went at once to the rooms of the master of the temple.
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