Suddenly the lamp flickered. Wang Liping slowly toppled and collapsed; his legs unlocked and stretched out, and both hands lay limply at his sides. He looked completely calm, not stirring at all.
The wizards checked Liping’s pulse and respiration; both had stopped. They knew he was dead. Immediately they sat in a battlefront formation, held their precious swords upright, and performed an esoteric rite. The grand master first caused the wind and rain to stop in the area, and saw to it that the spirits did not interfere; he also forbade pure yin entities from approaching. The two younger masters both exercised their extraordinary arts to create a protective seal around Wang Liping’s body. The three wizards worked unremittingly, keeping careful watch day and night.
Earlier on, the grand master had placed a memorial tablet for Wang Liping by the memorial tablets of the ancestral teachers, burning incense before it on an altar in a traditional gesture of respect for the dead.
As for Liping himself, after fasting and entering suspended animation, he felt all was void; subsequently even the feeling itself disappeared. His body had suddenly begun to float, and he was no longer aware of anything familiar in his daily life. Although he had just been through an excruciatingly painful experience, it had already faded from his memory. Now he just felt lightness and plenitude, extremely comfortable.
In an instant, there was absolute blackness all around, empty and silent, vacant and cold. Feeling he was about to plunge into an abyss, Liping began to struggle desperately, as if to climb out, but he could find no handhold or foothold; he was powerless as a floating strand of thread.
Then, all of a sudden, a dazzling brilliance appeared. Seeing it was an open road, radiant with light, Liping began to follow it. Breezing airily along, all he could see were green mountains on both sides of the road, with rushing valley streams and masses of aromatic grasses and fragrant flowers. The scene was thoroughly tranquil, clear, and fresh, without a trace of worldliness.
Wang Liping had no idea where he was going. Suddenly he saw a number of people on the road, coming toward him. All of them were dressed in old-fashioned clothing and were very proper in manner. They greeted Liping smilingly. The one who seemed to be the eldest, an old man with flowing silver sideburns, came up smiling and took Wang Liping by the hand, leading him to a cluster of houses in the shade of a mountainside wood. All the houses were simple and clean. The elder led Liping into a room and indicated that he should sit down. The others in the group filed in courteously, taking their seats in an orderly manner.
Now the elder had people bring tea and wild fruit for Wang Liping. Liping didn’t refuse, thinking to himself that this was just what he wanted. He held up the cup and drank, but he got no feeling of warmth or coolness, only a sense of fragrance bathing his lungs and chest. Then he picked up a piece of fruit and ate it. He heard no sound, but only sensed the freshness and fineness of the flavor enriching his spleen and moistening his liver.
Everyone was delighted to see Wang Liping so frisky, but the elder seemed to have something on his mind. “Your life has a long way to go yet,” he finally said to Liping. “Why are you here now?”
Wang Liping didn’t understand what the old man meant. He just kept gobbling up fruit, totally absorbed. Seeing that Liping didn’t answer, the old man didn’t ask again. Instead he began to introduce everyone, beginning with himself.
The moment he heard the old man explain that he was Liping’s own ancestral forefather, Wang Liping put the fruit down and immediately bowed to him in respect. The others, it turned out, were some of his ancestors. He also paid respects to them one by one.
Wang Liping realized that he was still young. Here he was roaming around visiting the homes of his ancestors and relatives, and even the homes of their friends, as if he already knew them. How could he have ever seen his ancestors before? Now that he was seeing them, he was happy without consciously realizing why. Liping had been cultivating refinement for several years, his nature was free, and he had now reached this splendid resort. But how could he have ever seen it in the past? In this realm not only was the scenery beautiful and elegant; the human relations were also very fine, and the organization of the settlements was orderly, with nice buildings and houses. People were all sitting at leisure, conversing or playing chess.
Liping had no idea how much time passed. All he sensed was having interacted with numerous people and having learned many things from them. In terms of terrestrial time, his experience was equivalent to several decades in our world.
The only things that Wang Liping couldn’t understand during this time were that no one worked, no one fought or held grudges; and even though he spent quite a long time there, he never noticed any births or deaths, nor did he see any sickness or aging. This was all quite strange to him.
Now one day as Liping was watching a couple of elders playing chess under an enormous pine tree on the mountainside, the eldest ancestor suddenly showed up, took him by the hand, and said, “You have to go back. You can’t stay here too long.” Then a bunch of people came and escorted Liping back to the luminous road and bade him farewell.
In the darkness, Liping heard an insistent rustling by his ear, and his physical sensations gradually returned. Slowly opening his eyes, in the dimness of the lamplight in the room he saw the three Dragon Gate wizards sitting stock still, the pale shine of their ritual swords glimmering. Realizing he was still inside the room, Liping hurriedly sat up. The whole experience seemed like one long dream.
Seeing him revive, the wizards stopped their inner work and rose to bow to the sky. Then they embraced Liping, weeping with joy and relief.
Only when he had heard his three teachers relate what had transpired did Liping know that he had been in suspended animation for twenty-eight days, and then had been dead for three days and three nights, during which time the three wizards had all kept up a relentless, exhausting vigil over him.
As he listened to their story, Wang Liping wept until tears streamed from his eyes.
Part II
REFINING THE SPIRIT
Attain the climax of emptiness,
preserve the utmost quiet;
as myriad things act in concert,
I thereby observe the return.
—Lao-tzu
6
Life After Death
Having fought a life-and-death battle for days on end, and having finally won complete victory, the wizards and their apprentice sank into a complex mixture of feelings—hardship and toil, happiness and rejoicing, fatigue and relaxation. The Wayfarer of the Infinite was the first to dry his eyes. He personally ladled out a cup of hot water and gave it to Wang Liping to drink. Immediately Liping felt refreshed and relaxed. The old masters also drank hot water to help their bodies recover from their ordeal.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен