Chapter 1 · Heaven Sends the Red-Whiskered Dragon Down; the Buddha Exiles the Golden-Winged Bird to Earth

For more than three hundred years the history of the Song unrolled, and in it the South and the North warred across the land. At leisure let me comment on the affairs of the two emperors — loyalty and righteousness that move one to grief and to admiration. Loyal and true, they endured frost and dew beneath a blazing sky; the crafty and wicked are autumn gnats in the moonlight. Glory and disgrace rise and fall, all empty fame — yet the dream of the yellow millet will not wake!

A poem says: the wars of the Five Dynasties would never rest, and only after the yellow robe was laid upon his body did a ruler find peace. Who could have known that a Southern lord who fled and entrenched himself, forsaking loyal and good ministers, would leave the myriad people to grieve? Heaven's cycle has its turnings, its rising and its decay. This very poem of mine gives rise to the account of a loyal marshal of the Southern Song who devoted himself with all his heart to serving his country.

Now in the late Tang and Five Dynasties, one morning men served the Liang and by evening the Jin, and the common people suffered. At that time, on Mount Hua in the Western March, there lived a recluse named Chen Tuan, styled Master Xi Yi, an immortal of lofty virtue. One day, riding his mule across the Tianhan Bridge, he raised his head, beheld five-colored auspicious clouds, and suddenly burst into laughter — and fell off his mule. When the crowd asked the reason, the master said, "Good, good! Do not say there is no true lord in the world — two dragons have been born at a single birth." Gentlemen, why did he speak these words? For there was an official household, surnamed Zhao, named Hong Yin, who held the post of Situ; his lady, of the Du family, bore him a son in the Jiama camp, named Kuang Yin — the mortal incarnation of the Thunderbolt Immortal of the Upper Realm — and so red light, rare fragrance, and auspicious clouds attended him. When Kuang Yin grew up he became a hero beyond compare: with one staff and two fists he subdued four hundred army-prefectures and founded the empire of the Great Song, with its capital at Bianliang. Ever since the mutiny at Chenqiao when the yellow robe was laid upon his shoulders, he was called the "Dragon of the Manifest Omen," and he passed the throne to his younger brother Kuang Yi — hence "two dragons born at a single birth." From the founder of the dynasty down to Huizong, the throne passed through eight emperors: Taizu, Taizong, Zhenzong, Renzong, Yingzong, Shenzong, Zhezong, and Huizong.

This Huizong was the mortal incarnation of the Long-Browed Immortal of the Upper Realm. He was excessively fond of gods and immortals and styled himself the "Emperor of the Way." By then the realm had long been at peace — truly: horses set free on the southern hills, swords and spears stored in the armory; the five grains ripened in abundance, and the myriad people lived content. A poem says: Under the sage rule of Yao and Shun the three-fold blessings were celebrated; the satiated sang songs across the land. With wind and rain in season the people rejoiced in their work, and the herded cattle and horses abandoned the weapons of war.

Let idle chatter be set aside. It is said that the Buddha Tathagata of the Great Thunderclap Temple in the Western Paradise of Ultimate Bliss, one day seated upon the nine-grade lotus throne, was attended by the Four Great Bodhisattvas, the Eight Vajras, the Five Hundred Arhats, the three thousand chant-keepers, bhikkhunis and bhikkhus, upasikas and upasakas, and all the protecting saints of the heavens, who together listened to the preaching of the supreme Dharma. Just as flowers rained from heaven and jewels showered in profusion, an astral official — a female bat — who chanced to be seated beneath the lotus throne listening, could not resist letting out an unclean fart. The Buddha, being the Lord of Great Compassion, thought nothing of it. But the guardian spirit seated above the Buddha's head, the Golden-Winged Bright King of the Great Roc, with golden light blazing in his eyes and auspicious radiance upon his back, beheld the filth of the female bat and grew enraged. Spreading his wings he swooped down upon her and struck her head, pecking her to death with a single bite. That one ray of the female bat's spirit shot out of the Thunderclap Temple and flew straight to the Eastern Land to seek a mother and be reborn — in the mortal world as a daughter of the Wang household, who would one day marry Qin Hui and so repay the grudge.

"This is clear cause-and-effect," the Buddha said, glancing with his eye of wisdom. "Our teaching has no use for one who, having taken refuge in the five precepts, still dares to slay." Then he summoned the Great Roc and rebuked it: "I cast you down to the mortal world to atone for this debt of wrath. Only when your work is done and your merit complete shall you return and attain the right fruit." The Great Roc, heeding the Dharma decree, flew out of the Thunderclap Temple and went straight to the Eastern Land to be reborn — of which no more.

And of the Ancestor Chen Tuan, it is said he loved to sleep. He had attained the Way in sleep; the world called it "Chen Tuan sleeps a thousand years." One day he lay sleeping on a cloud-bed, attended by two immortal lads, Qingfeng and Mingyue. "Brother," said Qingfeng to Mingyue, "the Master has just fallen asleep, and who knows when he will wake. Shall we wander to the front mountain for a while?" Mingyue agreed, and hand in hand they strolled out of the cave. They passed pines and bamboo, until on a flat rock they saw the remnants of a chess game. "Brother, who was playing chess here," Qingfeng asked, "and left the game unfinished? Do you recall?" "I remember," Mingyue replied. "When Grand Ancestor Zhao once passed this way, the Master, with his spirit-wind, drew him up the mountain to play. He won two hundred taels from the Emperor and made him sign a deed selling Mount Hua — Xiao Qinglong Chai Shizong and the Star of the Starving Tiger Zheng Ziming were the guarantors. Later, after the Emperor took the throne, the Master carried the deed down, went to the capital to congratulate him, and begged him to remit the land-tax. This is that very unfinished game." "Brother," Qingfeng said, "what a memory! Since we have nothing to do, let me ask you to a game." Mingyue agreed, and the two sat down facing each other.

Just as they were about to move, a great noise burst forth in mid-heaven. The two looked up and saw, in the north-west, black vapors filling the sky, spreading toward the south-east. "Brother, this is bad!" Qingfeng cried. "It looks like heaven and earth are turning over!" Hurriedly they ran to the cloud-bed and knelt, calling: "Master! Wake up! The world is overturning!"

The Ancestor, roused from his deep slumber, rose and went out with them. Raising his head, he said, "Ah, it is that beast — so fierce, he cannot escape this tribulation." Qingfeng and Mingyue asked, "Master, what is this cause-and-effect? We are benighted; please enlighten us." The Ancestor replied, "Your roots are shallow; how could you know? But I will tell you. This retribution began with the present Emperor Huizong, who on New Year's Day sacrificed to Heaven. In the memorial he meant to write 'Jade Emperor.' But he misplaced the dot on the character 'jade' so that it read 'King Emperor.' The Five Emperors were enraged and said, 'The King Emperor cannot be forgiven!' — and so they sent the red-whiskered dragon down to the mortal world, to be born in the Yellow Dragon Prefecture of the Jurchen land of the North, so that he might invade the Central Plains, throw the Song realm into chaos, and bring the calamity of war upon the myriad people. Is it not lamentable?" "Master," the lads asked, "is this the red-whiskered dragon descending today?" "No," the Ancestor said. "The Buddha is afraid none can subdue it, so he sends the Great Roc down instead, to preserve the Song realm and fulfill the eighteen-emperor reign. Look — the beast is near. Watch the cave gate while I see where it is born." With that, he mounted the clouds and watched the Great Roc fly in a single breath to the Yellow River.

The Yellow River is called the "Nine-bend Yellow River," nine thousand li in circuit. In the Eastern Jin, the Perfected Lord Xu slew a flood dragon; the dragon's spirit had taken the form of a scholar named Shen Lang, married into the family of Governor Jia of Changsha, and was captured by the Perfected Lord and chained to an iron tree in a well south of Jiangxi. His wife Jia was spared, and she later went to Mount Wulong to become a nun. The dragon had three sons; two were slain, but the third fled to under Tiger-tooth Bank on the Yellow River, where in time he cultivated the Way and became the "Iron-backed Qiu Dragon." On this day he had taken the form of a white-robed scholar and, gathering shrimp-soldiers and crab-generals, was arraying his forces at the foot of the cliff when the Great Roc came flying.

The Great Roc's spirit-eyes knew it for a demon. Swooping down, he stabbed with his beak at the old dragon's left eye, and in an instant the eye bulged and burst, blood streaming over his face. Crying out, the dragon rolled into the depths of the Yellow River to hide, and the water-creatures dived in to take cover. But one ill-starred soft-shelled turtle, trusting in its strength, brandished its twin tridents and roared, "What demon dares commit such outrage!" Before it had finished, the Great Roc pecked it so that its four feet pointed skyward, and it died. Its spirit, unquenched, flew to the Eastern Land to be reborn — in time to become Wan Qi Xie, who would hound Marshal Yue in the wrongful case and bring about his unjust death at Fengbo Pavilion, in repayment of this grudge. But of this, no more.

The Ancestor, seeing clearly, sighed: "This beast, fallen into tribulation, still commits such violence — this endless tit-for-tat, when will it end!" And with his cloud he followed the Great Roc, which flew until it stood upon the roof of a house in Xiangzhou in Henan, and then vanished. The Ancestor set down his cloud, changed into an aged Taoist, and, leaning on a staff, went to pay a visit.

Now, in that household the master was Yue He, whose lady was of the Yao family. She was already forty years old when she bore this one son. When the maid came to report the happy news — the master, nearing fifty, overjoyed to have a son, hastened to light candles and incense at the family shrine. Just then the Ancestor Chen Tuan, in the form of a Taoist, came swaying to the gate, saluted the old gatekeeper, and said, "I am a poor Taoist, hungry, come to beg a meal; I beg your convenience." The old gatekeeper shook his head. "Master, you have come at an unlucky time! Our master is most generous in good works — but today his lady has just borne a son, and so the house is not clean. I dare not disturb him." The Taoist said, "Please go in and tell your master that this mendicant, having cultivated for many years, knows the art of warding off ill fortune, and has come to rid the young master of any evil stars and so dispel calamity." The gatekeeper, half-believing, went in to report; and the master stood at the door, saw the Taoist's singularly refined and lofty bearing, and came down the steps in haste to greet him.

He welcomed the Taoist into the hall, exchanged courtesies, and they took their seats, host and guest. Yue He said, "Master, it is not that your disciple makes excuse, but that my wife has just borne a child, and I fear the uncleanness would offend you." The Ancestor replied, "'Though good works are unseen by men, the heart's purpose is known to Heaven.' May I ask your honorable name?" Yue He said, "This disciple is surnamed Yue, named He; our ancestors dwelt in Tangyin County of Xiangzhou. This is the Yonghe Township of Xiaodi Li. Because I have a little property and farm a few mu of fields, people call this place the Yue Manor. May I ask your Dharma-name, and where you practice?" The Ancestor said, "This poor Taoist is named Xi Yi; I wander the four seas, making my home wherever I am. Today I chanced upon your manor at the very moment the master has gained a son — is this not destiny? But may I see the young master? Let me look for any inauspicious stars, that I may dispel them." "That will not do!" said the master. "The uncleanness would offend the sun, moon, and stars — not only for me, but even for you, Master, it would be a sin." "No matter," the Ancestor said. "Only have a rain-umbrella opened and hold it over him, and it will neither offend heaven and earth nor frighten the gods." "Since it is so," Yue He said, "please sit, Master, while I go and consult my wife." He went into the inner rooms, gave order for a clean vegetarian meal, then entered the bedchamber and asked his lady, "Are you well?" "Thanks to the gods of heaven and earth and the protection of our ancestors, I am quite well," she said. "Look at the child — is he not fine?" Yue He took the child, held it in his arms, delighted, and said to her, "A Taoist has come to beg alms; he says he has cultivated for many years and knows how to dispel ill fortune. He asks to see the child, so that if there be any evil star, he may remove it." "A child just born," said the lady, "I fear the blood's uncleanness would offend the gods; it is most unseemly." "I thought so too," said Yue He, "but he gave me a method — to open an umbrella and shield the child as we go out, and then there is no harm, and all evil will keep far away." "If it is so," the lady said, "carry him out carefully, and do not startle him."

Yue He answered, "I will be careful," and holding the child in both hands, had a servant open an umbrella and shield his head, and so carried the child out into the hall. The Taoist gazed on him and praised him without end: "What a fine son! Has he been given a name yet?" "The child was born this very day; he has no name yet," Yue He said. "Then let this poor Taoist presume," said the Ancestor, "to give your son a name. What say you?" "If the Master will grant a name, nothing could be better!" said Yue He. "I see the young master's features are majestic," said the Ancestor, "and when he grows he will surely go far, soaring high. Let him take the character 'Fei' — to fly — for his name, and 'Pengju' for his style." Yue He was overjoyed and thanked him again and again. "There is a wind here," said the Ancestor; "carry the young master in." Yue He answered "Yes," and carried his son back in and laid him down, and told his lady in detail the name the Taoist had given. The lady was delighted too.

The master returned to the hall to entertain the Taoist. The Ancestor said, "Let me tell you one thing, Master. I came here with a fellow Taoist; he went ahead to the front village to beg alms, and I came this way, having agreed that whichever of us found a patron should share. Since you have done me such honor, I should like to go and invite my companion to share your kindness — do you permit?" "By all means," said Yue He. "But where is this Master? Let me send someone to fetch him." "A practitioner's path is uncertain," said the Ancestor; "let me go and find him myself." And he stepped out of the hall — where he espied two objects in the courtyard, and at once cried out, "Good!" — and because of what the Ancestor saw, it came about that the city of Xiangzhou would suffer a flood of raging waves, and in Neihuang County a band of gallant heroes would gather. In truth: all things are fixed by Heaven's decree, and a lifetime is the arrangement of fate. As for what happened after — listen to the next chapter.