The granddaughter's body had been stolen by the peevish
young official who had performed the cursory autopsy during the day. He took a length
of rough white cloth and a wheelbarrow from a barn and wrapped up the
young woman's corpse, pushing it through the wilderness.
The official passed through the forest surrounding Mt. Xishan, staying
out of the light as much as possible. He stopped briefly to catch his
breath, rolling the body toward the base of a large tree. The girl's
face shifted to the side.
The official knelt down next to the body, stretching his hands out
gently, and turned the girl's face to his as if she could still look at
him. Unwrapped from her shroud and limned by moonlight, it was difficult
to believe that she was dead. The bloom of life still marked her
features, and she was very beautiful.
Hands trembling, the official stripped the girl of her shroud and
undergarments, watching in fascination as her breasts fell free of their
bindings. He cupped her breasts in both hands; the dark shadow of his
expanding crotch fell over her white skin. Her skin was cold, but that
didn't matter; every moment that passed eroded the official's fear and
filled him with excitement. He reached down to the girl's secret
places—cold, yes, but still wet. Her hair a bit disheveled. Her beauty
in this moment was eerie, almost otherworldly.
The piercing call of a fox rang out nearby. At the same time, the girl's
eyes opened and stared at him—as if she could see the official. That
had to be impossible, but in the low light of the moon streaking through
the branches, it seemed like she was very much alive.
The official screamed and rolled away from the body, then fled like a bat
out of hell. He disturbed the wheelbarrow as he went; it rolled down a
hill. He didn't notice and kept running for his life. Unfortunately for
the half-naked man, he stumbled into a tree that conked him on the head
so hard that he died almost instantly, still exposed.
A fox emerged from the forest underbrush and crouched down next to the
girl's body, giving a sad snort.
***
Tanshi lay on a wretched bed in the elderly couple's home, staring at
the ceiling and thinking grim thoughts. Death comes to us all, rich or
poor, young or old, male or female. Old age, illness, death... suffering
is the one thing no human being can avoid. So said Amida Buddha.
"All those born into this world die," Tanshi said quietly. Life meant
suffering. Death wasn't the end. When the body perished, the soul found
another body and was reborn again. The wheel of reincarnation was
permanent, fixed; the only way to escape it was to follow Buddhist
teachings and escape the cycle of suffering, called
samsara. Escape
from samsara was called
moksha, "liberation."
1
"I can't even remember all of the people that I've mourned with Jiun
since I was a child," Tanshi murmured. "That girl, so young and
beautiful, is dead. Her grandparents will soon follow her. I, too, will
grow old and die. I think I know as much as anyone about the
impermanence of life. Didn't the Buddha preach that we should give up
our desires and not be attached to them? He did."
To put this into practice, Tanshi must abide by strict precepts and
devote himself to training. Tanshi had never committed a crime, but he
had lied, coveted others' things, and succumbed (however briefly) to
personal jealousies and hatreds. He had no confidence that he could
follow the Buddha's teachings perfectly. "I'm ordinary," Tanshi said.
"Just a normal person who couldn't even help an old couple find their
granddaughter's stolen body."
When he looked out the window of the room, it was morning. Tanshi rose
along with Chō Kin and his wife to search Mt. Xishan and the
surrounding area.
They never found the girl's body.
This world truly was hell.
***
In the afternoon, Tanshi said goodbye to Chō Kin and his wife. He
stopped at a tavern located just off the main road and had a drink. He
hadn't drunk any alcohol before, so this was his first experience of the
taste.
That's one temple commandment I've broken, Tanshi thought, though the
idea didn't disturb him too much.
There weren't many travelers on the main road, which was fortunate; the
sight of Tanshi red-faced and soused after a single drink was an odd
one. Tanshi didn't care what he looked like.
"Can the Buddha's teachings really save people from the cycle of
suffering?" Tanshi asked himself. He'd never suffered such strong doubt
before. He'd been born a monk; his childhood had been spent solely in
the temple, and his adoptive father, Jiun, was the head priest. He'd
played with temple blocks instead of toys. Up until now, Tanshi had
believed that he would always be a monk and nothing else.
"Everyone is frightened of death, but... is it really right to live a
life devoted to the Buddha and hope for the best? Is it fate that all
most people can do is wait for death? The Buddha and gods of other
religions provide comfort to the suffering, but none of them can save us
from death. No. Everyone wants to live for a long time. Is enlightenment
the act of giving up that desire? Does the desire disappear just because
we will it so? Isn't that only possible for truly great beings, like the
Buddha?
"No, even Siddhartha realized that penance was not the path to
liberation. He sat in meditation under the Tree of Enlightenment,
awakened to the causes of suffering and became the Buddha. But even he
was powerless against death. I don't want to suffer and die. I
want to live a long life without aging, falling ill, or becoming a
victim of violence or an unexpected accident. I want the power to
predict and outlive the hellish suffering of this world.
"If mortality is destiny, then defying it means eternal life. If I was
truly born from an egg, I should be able to transcend ordinary human
limitations."
This determination was what had made Tanshi leave his temple in the
first place.
"I will climb Yunmeng Mountain, even if it turns out to be pointless."
***
Tanshi's desire for immortality was far from new. People of
the Han Dynasty (202 BCE - c. 9 CE) dreamed of eternal wealth and
longevity and created statues of immortals. These dreams weren't just
hopes and desires; many people worked to make these things real for
themselves.
Tanshi was just such a realist. He had the same high ideals as people in
the Han Dynasty, but he wanted those ideals to be real and was willing
to do anything to make them so. Daoism centered on ideas of immortality:
eternal youth and health. Methods to achieve immortality fell into two
basic categories: religious—prayers, moral conduct, rituals and
observances of commandments; and physical—diets, medicines, breathing
methods, chemicals and exercises.
The basic idea behind the Daoist diet was to nourish the body and deny
food to the "three worms"—disease, old age, and death. Immortality could
be achieved by following this diet and by avoiding ejaculation during
sex, which preserved life-giving semen, which in turn mixed with
breath and nourished the body and the brain. Forbidden foods included
many common grains, including all cereal grains (such as oatmeal and
rice).
The aim of the Daoist diet was to change the composition of the body
from flesh into durable airy material associated with long life. Many
Daoists believed that the best material for prolonging life was air and tried to take in a variety of different kinds of air—from the sea and
from the mountains, as examples—often accompanied by breathing
exercises. "Air eating" was believed to make people able to ride the
clouds and use dragons as horses.
Elixirs of immortality were also common. Many of these were made with
cinnabar, a compound of mercury and sulfur; it was considered an
essential ingredient for turning herbal medicines red. It could be
bought and sold in Chenzou, the nearest city, albeit at a high price;
Chenzou cinnabar was known for its exceptionally high quality. Rumor had
it that elixirs made with cinnabar could prolong one's life and bestow
the ability to fly through the air.
2
Empress Wu Zetian took elixirs containing cinnabar, as did six emperors
after her; all of them died. Mercury is obviously toxic, though you
could say that the elixirs did cause the souls of the empress and
emperors to fly to heaven.
3
***
Tanshi's original intention when leaving his temple was to visit the
Five Sacred Mountains of the Daoists. That was an important pilgrimage
for longevity and immortality; he'd also hoped to meet an immortal on
his travels. His first stop was to have been Mt. Heng in Hunan Province,
but he had other plans now. He turned eastward past Dongting Lake
toward Yunmeng Mountain and Hakūn-do Cave. Hubei Province was a long way
on foot.
Tanshi took some time to shave his beard, and the feel of the wind on
his bare skin as he walked was invigorating. He passed by a small
settlement where there were lodgings but didn't stop; it was too early
for travelers to seek accommodations for the evening. Tanshi, in
imitation of Peng Zu, had decided not to ride a horse or take a cart
after leaving the temple.
Peng Zu was a great master of Daoism; he lived at the end of the Shang Dynasty (around 1020 BCE) and remained a young man in appearance even
at the age of seven hundred and sixty-seven. Peng Zu was not one to court fame; he lived simply
and chose to never use a horse or cart on his journeys, always traveling
on foot. Tanshi had always liked Peng Zu's simplicity and easy-going
personality and sought to emulate it.
One of Peng Zu's life-extending techniques was a vitality absorption
skill, which purportedly extracted female energy into the male body
(harvesting from yin to supplement yang) through intimacy. He was known
for fathering hundreds of children with forty-nine different women. He
wrote: "No matter what kinds of high-quality elixirs you consume, you
will never attain eternal life without knowing the key points of sexual
alchemy."
Tanshi had read those words largely without knowing what they meant. His
religious upbringing had been strict and he had no experience at all
with women. Something in him had stirred at the sight of the beautiful
young girl who'd died, but of course his thoughts of her were not
impure. Even if he'd been experienced, he would never have considered
such a thing.
***
There was a teahouse at the edge of the settlement where they were
selling steamed rice cakes and household goods. There was a crowd around
the storefront: children buying sweets and their parents buying cooking
implements and groceries. Tanshi paused in front of the teahouse and
lifted his hat to take a better look.
This was a quiet little place; nothing out of the ordinary about it and there was
no reason to stop. Tanshi had seen a hundred of
these little shops before.
But then an old woman screamed inside the teahouse.
"Ah! Murder!"
The crowd shifted. Tanshi took an involuntary step back. The men around
him appeared just as apprehensive as he was; women and children
scattered like leaves until Tanshi alone remained near the storefront,
in front of the teahouse door.
The men and women who remained on the street looked at Tanshi with eyes
full of fear and distrust. Tanshi barely noticed. He was too preoccupied
with what was going on inside the teahouse. He slid the door open and
looked inside.
An obese itinerant monk was beating an old woman with a club. She had
fallen to the teahouse floor, still conscious. The monk's head was
perfectly shaved: the kind of bald head that shone and made people look
twice.
"Yo, old lady! I gave you a blessing; you should give me alms!"
The woman tried to crawl away from him, but the bald monk kicked her
with his stocky legs and stepped around her to prevent her escape. His
monk's robe was filthy; his face, unattractive at the best of times,
twisted hideously with anger.
Itinerant monks were similar to wandering monks like Tanshi, with a few
differences. They went on pilgrimages, but their goal was to find a
place of seclusion in the mountains and seek enlightenment there. They
carried all of their possessions in a sack hanging from their chest
(from which their shortened nickname was derived)
4
and relied on the charity of others to support their worldly needs.
"Now let me go on my way, you hag, or I'll kill you," the bald monk
said, raising his club.
Before he could strike again, Tanshi knocked him down by slamming his
pewter staff into the man's side.
"Who are you?" the bald monk asked as he staggered upright, glaring at
Tanshi with a raptor-like stare.
Tanshi stood near him, unafraid, staff in hand.
"Why are you getting in my way?"
Tanshi surveyed his opponent calmly. He had only participated in any
kind of fight once, when an armed gang of robbers had stormed the
temple. From that experience, Tanshi had learned that it was best to
take initiative. The one who showed weakness first broke, and lost. By
seizing his moment, Tanshi gave himself time to look for weaknesses in
his opponent and to come up with a plan.
That was all Tanshi had needed to do at the temple fight: plan,
delegate, and strike quickly as a distraction to help more experienced
fighters. This time, he believed that wouldn't be enough. This was a real fight that he'd stumbled into. As he looked down at the poor old
woman on the floor, he remembered Chō Kin's wife collapsed on the
ground next to her granddaughter's empty bed.
Tanshi was the kind of man who couldn't tolerate anyone bullying old
women.
"We're both monks. If ya stay outta my way, I'll stay out of yours," the
bald monk said in slangy informal dialect.
"We're both monks, and you should stop," Tanshi said.
"What?" The bald monk was steady on his feet again.
"A monk should have compassion for others."
"That's why I gave her a blessing. What's wrong with asking for alms in
the name of the Buddha?"
"Giving alms is not something to be forced. The person must choose to
give them to you."
"Are ya lecturing me, boy?" the bald monk asked, snorting out an
irritated laugh.
"It's my duty to preach to the ignorant," Tanshi said, overly polite.
The bald monk's irritation finally boiled over into rage. "Don't you
know who I am? I am Seki, the itinerant monk, and no one who knew of me
would seek to waylay me as you have."
"I'm sorry, sir, but we haven't been introduced before so I'm not sure
how I was supposed to know who you are."
The physical fight Tanshi feared hadn't materialized yet, but this was
certainly a battle of words.
The bald monk adjusted his grip on the club.
The old woman crawled to Tanshi. "He—that man put his hands on my
daughter. When she resisted, he beat her to death."
And Tanshi saw it now: the body of a young woman, still and silent in
the corner of the room. If Tanshi had to guess, he would say that she
was about the same age as Chō Kin's granddaughter. She had gone to her death
without blessings and rites, which enraged him as much as the death
itself. The utter lack of respect that the bald monk held for this woman angered him to his soul.
Tanshi removed his hat with one hand and threw it into the corner. There would be no walking away from this.
The bald monk looked Tanshi over and gave him a crooked smile. He could
see that Tanshi was young; perhaps that made him think that he would be
easy pickings. His poisonous gaze fell on Tanshi, making him feel
nauseous.
"You're just a kid. If you walk away now, I promise that I'll spare
you," the bald monk said.
A muscle in Tanshi's cheek twitched. "Don't underestimate me, Seki the
itinerant monk." He was done being polite; his voice came out as a
shout. Anger at what had happened to Chō Kin's granddaughter mixed with
the fresh outrage of Seki's murder of an innocent woman.
Seki was briefly taken aback by Tanshi's tone. He readjusted his stance,
red-faced, embarrassed: it was shameful for an older monk such as
himself to be chastised by a junior from another order. His expression
became predatory, like a tiger stalking its prey.
"You insult me to my face and refuse to take my instruction," Seki said,
petulant. "I won't forgive you."
The onlookers watched with great interest, but made no move to
intervene.
The old woman kept crawling away from the monk, safer now that there
were many witnesses. "You speak well, young monk, and I thank you for
it, but please do not get yourself killed," she said.
No one expected Tanshi to win this encounter. He was like a puppy
sitting in front of an angry tiger. Slowly, Tanshi and Seki circled one
another. From Seki's clumsy movements, Tanshi knew that Seki had no
training whatsoever in the martial arts. His club was a good enough weapon against those equally ignorant, but it posed little threat to
Tanshi.
"Do it, you young fool. Attack me!"
Some monks excelled at martial arts. Monks were soft targets because
they were seen as gentle people who served the Buddha. Tanshi had
started learning the staff when he was ten, but he'd had little
opportunity to use that knowledge. Offerings and alms had been freely
given to his temple; with the exception of bandits one time, neither his
temple's goods nor his person had been attacked before.
Tanshi had never fought an opponent like this, one-on-one and carrying a
weapon.
Seki kept circling around Tanshi, seeking an opening to strike. His
experience fighting was all done against civilians with no training and
those too weak to fight back. Tanshi readied his staff and kept moving
around Seki.
Seki let out a barbaric yawp and attacked. At the same time, Tanshi
swept the club out of his hand with his staff. The club flew through the
air and thudded against the wall, rolling into a corner.
Disarmed and ashamed, Seki flushed red and made a frustrated grunt low
in his throat. His shoulders shook and his expression was pained; the
force of Tanshi's blow had numbed his hand. He was obviously angry,
while Tanshi remained calm. Tanshi had directed the path of the club
with his strike so that it wouldn't harm anyone as Seki dropped
it.
"May the Buddha damn you, young monk," Seki said.
Tanshi offered him a cynical smile. Seki looked strong, but his arms and
hands were weak. He was a villain who got by on bravado and little else.
Some of the onlookers pressed in closer.
"Oi! Get back, ya stupid louts!" Seki yelled. He regained his composure,
determined to put up a strong façade even if he could only do that with
words. Everyone had seen Tanshi disarm him. Most of the people watching
weren't afraid of him anymore.
"Fuck you, shithead," Seki snarled at Tanshi. Weaponless, he curled his
fists and hurtled toward the onlookers, only to find Tanshi standing in
his way.
"If you want to keep fighting, retrieve your weapon," Tanshi said.
Seki had lost what little face he'd had coming into this encounter.
Breathing heavily, he went to his club and picked it up. He focused on Tanshi
with his eyes full of hatred.
"You little brat, I'm just a little drunk," Seki said. That was likely
true.
"Would you like to sleep it off before we continue? I'll wait," Tanshi
said.
Seki was tipsy, to be sure, but far from falling down drunk. Tanshi
didn't think that Seki's level of inebriation should affect the fight.
Seki's overpowering rage was having a much more significant effect.
Raising his club, Seki struck a blow with his full weight behind it.
Tanshi dodged to the right, bent down quickly, and thrust his staff into
Seki's chest. Seki staggered backwards, grunting in pain. The back of
his head slammed against a millstone in the corner of the room as he fell. When he
collapsed, he didn't rise.
The onlookers cheered.
This was the first time Tanshi had ever fought for real on his own. If
Seki had just left the poor woman he'd killed alone, she would be alive
now and might have a chance at a happy life. Tanshi had never struck a
human being in anger before, but Seki had cut an innocent woman's life
short. He was surprised by his own strength and the efficacy of
his training; he hadn't expected Seki to just fall over like that.
Tanshi waited for Seki to get up and continue the fight. He planned to
get Seki to surrender, then lead him to the prefectural office where he
could be jailed.
Rough footsteps echoed behind Tanshi. He turned to see three prefectural
officers carrying spears. They'd been patrolling nearby and someone had alerted them to the fight
in progress, so they'd come to investigate.
"A monk is fighting another monk!"
Now the officers knew that the informant had told the truth, and they
surrounded Tanshi. Tanshi was relieved to see them; now he wouldn't have
to lead Seki to the prefectural office. The officers could take Seki
away, and that would be the end of this mess.
"Were you fighting?" one of the officers asked.
"I was, sir."
"Who were you fighting? Where is he?"
Tanshi looked down, scratching his head. "I might have gone a little too far."
Another officer caught sight of Seki on the floor and shook his head.
"That moron. If only he could die twice."
Tanshi looked more closely at Seki. Regardless of their differences, he
had no intention of killing the bald monk. This was his first real fight,
after all. All he'd needed to do was poke Seki a little and the bald
monk had gone down. He hadn't planned for Seki to slam his head on the
millstone; that was a complete accident.
But that accident proved fatal to Seki.
Stunned, Tanshi brought his hands together and prayed. "Namu Amida
Butsu..."
5 He prayed sincerely,
but the officers seemed to think he was mocking the dead man.
"Monk, you cannot recite the Nembutsu over someone you killed," one of
the officers said.
"I didn't want to kill him," Tanshi said. "I didn't plan for that to
happen."
But the officers viewed this incident as just another fight, nothing
more. "Silence, monk," an officer said.
"Come with us to the prefectural office," another officer said.
"I was only defending myself," Tanshi said. He wasn't much more than a
child, and he'd killed a grown man on accident. Surely the officers
didn't believe him capable of cold-blooded murder?
The old woman crawled out from where she'd been hiding. She was weeping
when she said, "Officer, this monk has avenged my daughter's death.
Please forgive him."
"What?" The officers looked at the dead woman's body.
The old woman knelt before the officers and said, "I beg you. Please
overlook this event for the sake of my daughter."
"No. You're also coming as a material witness."
The old woman turned pale. "What?"
Tanshi couldn't fight the officers, of course. He felt sorry for the old
woman, who'd gotten caught up in this terrible situation. "I'll
cooperate with you," he said. "Take my staff. I will follow you to the
prefectural office." He handed over his staff and put his hands behind
his back.
He had avenged a death by killing another. What an horrible disaster.
There was nothing but suffering in this world.
It was so strange: yesterday and today, Tanshi had come across the
deaths of two young women and mourned for them, each in a different way.
Tanshi was a murderer, now.
Having broken the precept of drinking alcohol, I have also broken the
precept of taking a life. I can no longer be a monk, Tanshi thought.
The officers took him and the old woman away.
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