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The Sorceress' Revolt: Ko Biji's Story - Part 1 Chapter 1

 The Sorceress' Revolt

Author: Toriumi Jinzō

Translator: Ainikki the Archivist


Ko Biji's Story


Part One: The Way of Shattering Earth


Chapter One

    The Yuan River was one of the longest in China's Hunan Province, flowing in three directions: north, south, and west. The tributaries met and merged into Dongting Lake to the northeast. 
    Chenzou was an ancient city in Hunan Province. It was early autumn there; signs of the season were obvious on the outskirts of the city. The surface of the Yuan River shone red in the softening light of the western sun. Willow trees grew along the riverbank, sporting crimson-dyed leaves that fluttered in the breeze. 
    A lone monk wearing a shallow hat with a round top1 and carrying a pewter staff2 gazed out at a boat floating downstream. His face was partially concealed by the hat, but the light reflecting off the river's surface was bright enough to wreathe the unshaven beard dangling from his chin. He was tall and strongly built. He wore a white monk's robe with a black formal coat over it and straw sandals. A cloth bundle was strapped to his back. He'd traveled far; his hat showed signs of sun damage, his sandals were practically worn through and his light-colored robe had darkened from long use and exposure. 
    Monks from many orders wandered, but this man's attire and equipage identified him specifically as a Daoist. He paused for a time, then walked west at a slow pace. There was no need to hurry on this journey. He was seeking a path to the forbidden arts, but all he desired at the moment was a place to stay for the night. With that in mind, he wandered alongside the western tributary of the Yuan River.
    Before things progress too far, it should be noted that Buddhism had its roots in India and spread west to China before anywhere else. Buddhism took off in China when when the aristocrats of the later Han Dynasty adopted it around 401 CE. Kumārajīva3 was the monk responsible for translating Indian Buddhism into Chinese. After that, many Buddhist texts were translated into Chinese by other monks who had contact with India. Despite this, Indian Buddhism and Chinese Buddhism were not precisely the same. Translations into Chinese were made to suit the tastes and conveniences of the time.
    Returning to the present moment: In the first year of Qianxing (1023 CE), Renzong, the fourth emperor of the Northern Song Dynasty, ascended the imperial throne.4 At the end of that year in autumn, the monk began his long journey. Unlike in modern times, where Confucianism, Buddhism and Daoism can exist in harmony, during this time period there were repeated clashes between different religions. 
    The westering sun finally set at a narrow crossroads ahead of the monk. Everything seemed peaceful at first glance, but appearances were deceptive. The province was not at peace. China's history was marked by conflicts and wars with foreign powers. The Khitan Empire5 honored the Chanyuan Treaty,6 but didn't stop mustering armies. The Khitan Empire was steadily gaining power, exhibiting signs of aggression by raiding the border. The Song Dynasty had been weak in terms of military affairs since it adopted the doctrine of pacifism after the founding of the Taejo Dynasty in Korea.7 The Imperial Court finally adopted the policy of enriching the country and strengthening the military, but the financial burden of this policy was causing farmers to suffer immensely.
    Due to this unrest, the Imperial Court feared foreign spies and required travelers to carry a license issued by the province's government office. Monks were granted privileges as long as they carried a token called a dochō. 
    The monk, of course, carried a dochō. It would exempt him from paying lodging fees wherever he decided to stay. Still, he didn't decide to stop just yet, perhaps because it was a hassle to cook one's own food in a shared room. Individual rooms for travelers were rare and expensive. 
    Dusk fell as the monk approached the foot of Mt. Xishan. The moon rose, shedding a little light in the eastern sky. The monk walked along the side of a stream that flowed through a bamboo grove. Suddenly, he stopped, raised his hat and looked out into the distance. His face was youthful—he was perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old. His short hair poked out from underneath his hat, much abused by days of wind and rain. His bedraggled looks made him appear even younger than he was.
    The monk pursed his lips and set his jaw in determination. His dark eyes shone with the strength of his will. There was a forest in the middle distance, but no sign of human habitation anywhere nearby. At once, the monk's expression changed from one of determination to one of anxiety. He must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. His Daoist training had prepared him to camp in the wilderness if necessary, but he was hoping it wouldn't be required of him.
    A silver fox barked behind the monk, the sound echoing in the bamboo grove. The young monk looked behind him. 
    Like the monk, the fox was young. It stood in the middle of the bamboo grove unafraid, staring at the monk with naked curiosity. The fox's fur gleamed beautifully in the low light. It was an adult of breeding age, though there were no cubs around. The fox's limbs were lithe, supple and strong. 
    It was believed that foxes could transform into beautiful women by donning a skull.  Since ancient times, foxes have been considered lewd and tawdry beasts. When they disguised themselves as beautiful women, they stole the very essence of the men they seduced. 
    Not all impressions of foxes were so negative. They were worshiped as gods of grain for a time, and silver foxes were considered especially auspicious. In northeast China, a powerful fox spirit called Kosen8 was sometimes worshiped as a god.
    The young monk considered all this and looked at the fox with a smile on his face. The fox blinked its eyes, and it was unclear whether or not it was a source of good luck or ill omen. The young monk stared, and the fox stared back, its blue eyes twinkling in the twilight.
    The moment passed, and the monk resumed his journey. The fox darted ahead of him, jumping over a narrow stream and running a little way onward. Then it looked back at the monk again. The monk stopped walking, tilting his head in confusion. Was the fox trying to lead him somewhere? It certainly seemed so. 

***

    The light of the moon reflected off the forest canopy in the distance; it was now full night. The rings on the monk's pewter staff jangled with every step forward. The fox stopped running at the forest's edge. There was a double-sided gate just ahead; one of the gate doors swung wide open.
    When the fox saw the young monk approaching, it ran through the gate without hesitation. The monk stood by the gate for a moment, looking at the faintly glowing light coming from the farmhouse beyond it. Moonlight shone through the trees, illuminating the desolate building. The front garden was overrun with weeds, obscuring the well and watering can. The roof of the farmhouse had obvious holes; paint peeled from its walls. The roofs of the barn and storehouse were also dilapidated and covered with grass and debris. 
    Passing through the front garden, the monk came to the front of the farmhouse and looked around, but he saw no fox. He approached the front door and called out, "Please excuse my intrusion! I'm a traveler, and I'm looking for a place to stay for the night."
    He heard a voice coming from inside the farmhouse. A moment later, the door opened a crack, and an old woman peeked out through the gap. Bright moonlight shone on the figure of the monk, lighting him up clear as day.
    The monk bowed his head. "Hello. I would like to borrow a corner of your barn, if I may. Just for the evening."
    Although he was obviously young, he was a monk and his tone was polite. The old woman appeared surprised by this. "Honored husband!" she called into the house. "There's a monk outside."
    Then the door of the farmhouse opened wide.
    The monk bowed his head again. 
    The old woman took a step out of the house, revealing her stooped back. "Now, now, young man; we'll not put you in the barn tonight. Please come inside."
    "No, thank you. I'd really prefer to stay in the barn." 
    "Why? Are you doing penitence? You've come here by chance, so let us make this a pleasant meeting. Come inside."
    The old woman took the monk by the hand and led him into the farmhouse.
    The elderly owner of the farmhouse lay inside on a shabby bed in the main living area. He was as thin as a withered tree, likely from long illness. He and the old woman appeared to be the house's only inhabitants. There was little by way of furniture. The inside of the farmhouse looked as dilapidated as the exterior.
    To the side of the bed was a low table. The monk sat down on a chair in front of it and listened to the old man's painful cough. The old man cleared his throat, then said, "I know we don't have much, but you're welcome to share what we have."
    "Thank you very much," the monk said. "I hope I'm not putting you out."
    "No, no," the old man said. "It's been a long time since we had a guest. My honored wife and I are pleased to welcome you." He smiled.
    The old woman brought over a large steaming bowl of porridge on a tray and set it on the table. The steam was scented with mint and other spices. 
    "Refresh my memory; can monks eat fish?" the old woman asked. 
    Monks were prohibited from eating certain foods, mainly pungent vegetables like onions, garlic, and leeks.9
    The monk smiled. "I am permitted to eat fish, yes."
    "That's good," the old woman said. "It's the best thing for when you're tired. Come on, dig in while it's still warm."
    The monk said words of gratitude over the food, placing his palms lightly together. Then he picked up the bowl of porridge, feeling steam rise against his face. He sipped from the edge of the bowl—there were no utensils—and let out a cry of delight.
    "This is delicious!" the monk said.
    The old woman smiled and nodded as if he'd just said something very obvious. The monk ate at speed in large bites.
    "Is it salty enough?" the old woman asked.
    "It's perfect," the monk said.
    "I see. Very good."
    The warm porridge made the monk forget his fatigue. The old woman watched him, smiling, until he finished eating.
    "Thank you for the meal," the monk said. He placed his palms together again and bowed his head.
    "There’s more, monk."
    "I've had enough, thank you."
    "There's no need to deny yourself."
    "I promise that I'm not."
    "Is that so?" The old woman bent to retrieve the tray.
    "Please pardon me; I've been ill and so we can't feed you as well as we usually would," the old man said. 
    "I can't remember when I last had such wonderful porridge," the monk said. His effusiveness broke through his usual monk's politeness, showing that he was still a boy at heart. He meant every word. 
    The old woman set the tray and bowl over in the kitchen area, then returned, rubbing her hands and looking down. "Monk, I have a favor to ask you."
    "Huh?"  The old man interjected as if to scold her. "Wife, no. He is a wandering monk; let him be."
    The old woman looked away as if she were ashamed.
    The monk blushed. "I'm very sorry if I've caused you any trouble."
    The old woman waved her hand quickly to dismiss this objection, but she wasn't very convincing. "No, you haven't, and I won't take payment for lodging or meals."
    The monk looked at the faces of the elderly couple. He'd stumbled on some argument or point of contention. "If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know. I arrived here by chance, and I feel fortunate to have a place to stay overnight."
    "No, no, there's nothing we need you to do," the old man said. "There's no need to concern yourself."
    "If you're sure..."
    The monk's repeated desires to help them put the elderly couple at ease, but he still didn't understand what their near-argument was actually about.
    Then the old woman finally told him what was troubling her. 

Translator's Notes



1 饅頭笠: Shallow hat with a round top, which looks a little like a manjū cake. The literal meaning is "manjū hat."



2 錫杖: A staff topped with metal rings traditionally carried by Buddhist monks, particularly in East Asian Buddhism.



3 鳩摩羅什: Kumārajīva (344 CE – 413 CE) was a Buddhist monk, scholar, missionary and translator from Kucha (present-day Aksu Prefecture, Xinjiang, China). Kumārajīva is seen as one of the greatest translators of Chinese Buddhism.



4 仁宗: Emperor Renzong of Song (30 May 1010 CE – 30 April 1063 CE), personal name Zhao Zhen, was the fourth emperor of the Northern Song Dynasty of China. He reigned for about 41 years from 1022 CE to his death in 1063 ACE, making him the longest reigning Song Dynasty emperor. 



5 遼朝: The Khitan Empire, also known as the Liao Dynasty, existed between 916 CE - 1125 CE. Founded around the time of the collapse of the Tang Dynasty, at its greatest extent it ruled over Northeast China, the Mongolian Plateau, the northern part of the Korean Peninsula, and the northern tip of the North China Plain.



6 澶淵之盟: The Chanyuan Treaty was signed between the Northern Song Dynasty and the Khitan Empire in 1005 CE, and marked a pivotal point in Chinese history. The treaty laid the foundation for approximately a century of relative peace between the two major powers, which lasted until the 12th century CE. The diplomatic framework that set the peace would continue to be emulated throughout East Asia until the establishment of the Mongol Empire in the 13th century CE.



7 太祖 王建: Taejo of Goryeo (c. 31 January 877 CE – 4 July 943 CE) was the founder of the Korean Goryeo Dynasty. Taejo ruled from 918 to 943 CE.



8 胡仙: Kosen, translates to "fox fairy" or "fox spirit."



9 Vegetables like garlic and onions can disrupt digestion and make it more difficult to meditate, so Buddhist monks of this time period were forbidden from eating them.


Additional Notes



度牒: Dochō, an identifying token for monks in ancient China that allowed them to travel freely.



牀: Bed; couch; bench; chassis. A very old kanji not in common usage.


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