Now, the prior Guangliang was sighing over all this when he saw Ji Gong come drifting slowly towards him along the Su Causeway2 on West Lake. A word of explanation: since the day he had left Lingyin Temple, Ji Gong had been staying these many days at the houses of Su Beishan and Zhao Wenhui. Today he was in Su Beishan’s rooms, playing chess with Squire Su himself, when all of a sudden he shivered. Ji Gong consulted his inner light1 with three claps of his hands and had already worked it all out. “Su Beishan,” he said, “I can’t stay here with you. I have to go. Chancellor Qin has sent men to pull down the Great Stele Tower at my temple. I’m going to take on this Chancellor Qin!” “Holy monk, you mustn’t,” said Su Beishan. “He is chancellor of the reigning court, high in office and noble in rank. Master, you are a man who has left the household life. How could you afford to cross him?” Ji Gong did not argue. He stood up and left. Su Beishan hurried out to see him off, but Ji Gong was already far away. The monk made straight for the far side of the Qiantang Gate, and as he walked along the Su Causeway he sang a song. It went:

Singing as he went, the monk came to the temple gate. Guangliang saw him. “Brother3, you’re back. This is terrible! A disaster big enough to bring down the sky has fallen on our temple!” Ji Gong knew perfectly well, but asked anyway. “Brother, what disaster big enough to bring down the sky? Never mind, there’s always me, Crazy Ji. We can’t stand for anything like that. Who would dare bully the monks of this temple?” “Brother,” said Guangliang, “this is someone you can’t afford to cross. Chancellor Qin has sent four stewards — their lordships — to pull down our Great Stele Tower and build the Getian Tower at Chancellor Qin’s mansion.” “Ha!” said Ji Gong. “So because he’s chancellor of the reigning court, he sends down an order to pull down the Great Stele Tower, and down it has to come? In a couple of days the commander of the capital garrison sends an order to pull down the Main Hall — do we let him pull that down too? That would be outrageous! A couple of days after that, Lin’an Prefecture sends word to pull down the east and west side halls — do we let them pull those down too? A couple of days after that, Qiantang County and Renhe County4 send word to pull down the Sutra Library — do we let them pull that down too? That would be outrageous! I begged the alms for5 this Great Stele Tower, and I won’t let him pull it down!” “Brother,” said Guangliang, “if you dare stand in their way, their lordships the four stewards are sitting in the meditation hall inside right now. Go and find them yourself. Only I’m afraid that if you stir up trouble, you won’t be able to cope with what comes of it.” Ji Gong gave a faint, cold laugh. “Brother, never you mind.” With that he went straight in and headed for the meditation hall.

This courtyard was closed in by buildings on three sides. A dozen or more Third Masters6 stood in the courtyard, and the four stewards were drinking tea in the main room on the north side. They saw a poor monk come in, his clothes in tatters. One of the Third Masters quickly stopped him. “Who are you?” “It’s me,” said Ji Gong. “And who are you?” said the Third Master. “Their lordships are talking in there. What’s a poor monk like you doing here? Which temple are you from?” “I’m from the nunnery,” said Ji Gong. “That’s no way to talk,” said the Third Master. “You’re a monk. What are you doing at a nunnery, men and women all mixed up together?” “You don’t know,” said Ji Gong. “The old nun at the nunnery died, and the young nun ran off with somebody, so I’m minding the place. I hear their lordships have come for big timber. At our big temple we’ve got crossbeams and roof beams piled up like a mountain, really big and really thick. Say you lay one of the crossbeams down on its side, with a man squatting on this side and a man squatting on that side — the man on this side can’t see the man on the other side of the crossbeam.” “Some crossbeam!” said the Third Masters. “At that temple of ours,” said the monk, “lay one of the roof beams down on its side, with a man squatting on this side and a man squatting on that side, and the man on this side can’t see the man on that side.” “Some beam!” said the Third Masters. “At that temple of ours,” said the monk, “lay one of the rafters down on its side, with a man squatting on this side and a man squatting on that side, and the man on this side can’t see the man on that side either.” At this the Third Masters all burst out laughing. “Monk, what are you after? Do you want to sell them? Or give them to our lordships?” “I won’t exactly sell them to their lordships,” said the monk. “Let their lordships tip me a few coppers so I can get myself a new pair of trousers, and that’ll do.” Inside, Qin An had heard every word. Here was a bargain, he thought, and he hurriedly ordered the monk brought in. “Monk,” said a Third Master, “our lordships want you. When you see our lordships, mind your manners — none of your monkey-headed, dog-brained antics.” The monk said nothing. He stepped up, lifted the door curtain and went in. Qin An, Qin Shun, Qin Zhi and Qin Ming looked: it was a poor, wretched monk. “Monk,” Qin An asked, “your temple has big timber?” Ji Gong rolled his eyes up at them. “Where are you four from?” “We’ve been sent from Chancellor Qin’s mansion,” said the four. “His Lordship has ordered the Great Stele Tower pulled down to build the Getian Tower in the garden of the mansion.” “So you four have come to pull down the Great Stele Tower on the orders of the lordship of your house7?” said Ji Gong. “There’s no lordship in our house!” said the four. “Your house hasn’t even got a grown-up?” said Ji Gong. “No wonder you don’t know how things are done. Go back and tell your lordship — say this monk told you — that he holds office as chief minister and stands among the Three Eminences8: ‘a seat among the Three Dukes, blending the flavours in the cauldron; a great minister, setting yin and yang in order.’ By rights he ought to do good, store up blessings and earn merit. Why would he tear down holy ground for no reason? Go back and tell him this old fellow says no!” How would these stewards stand for talk like that? Before they could help themselves, anger rose in their hearts and rage swelled up from their gall. “What an ignorant monk!” said Qin An. “I’ll hit you first!” He swung his hand and struck straight at Ji Gong. Ji Gong dodged aside. “You want to fight? Let’s the two of us go outside.” Qin An got up, followed close on the monk’s heels outside and ordered the servants, “Beat the monk for me!” The Third Masters crowded round, every one of them swinging his fists. They pinned the monk down and punched and kicked him until he groaned without stopping, and they heard him shout, “Stop hitting! It’s me!” “It’s you we’re hitting,” said the Third Masters. “You had no business coming here. You’ve come looking to get yourself killed. You’ve really gone and stirred up the wrong people — digging earth right over the Grand Duke’s head.” In the middle of the beating, Qin Shun came out from over there. “Stop! That voice doesn’t sound right. Take a look before you hit him again. Good heavens! The monk’s standing over on the east side!” The servants looked, and there indeed stood the monk, laughing away. They looked down again: the man they had been beating was the chief steward, Qin An himself, battered all over. The servants came over. “Steward, how did we come to beat you, sir?” “You’re settling private scores under cover of orders!” said Qin An. “I tell you to beat the monk, and you beat me. I said, ‘It’s me,’ and you said it was me you were hitting. Fine, fine, fine.” Qin Zhi and Qin Ming came out and looked. Seeing how badly Qin An had been beaten, they said, “Right, this has to be the monk’s black magic. Everybody, go and beat him for us!” At this the Third Masters, every one of them glaring and scowling, rushed at the monk together. “Very well,” said Ji Gong. “Goodness, goodness. A good man gets bullied, a good horse gets ridden.” He recited the six-syllable mantra: “Om mani padme hum! Om! By command — he!” It gave the Third Masters such a fright that they all shivered, and every one of them was suddenly angry with the others. Zhang Sheng looked at Li Lu. “Just seeing you makes me mad. I’ve been wanting to bash your dog’s head in for ages.” “Right,” said Li Lu. “Let’s settle which of us comes out on top.” Over there it was the same: A grappled with B, C and D went at each other to the death, and the eighteen servants fought in nine pairs. Qin Ming looked at Qin Zhi. “Qin Zhi, your nickname’s Pepper Qin. I know you’re sure to be a hot one to handle. I’ve got to beat you.” And they set to with their fists. Qin Shun looked at Qin An, battered all over. “Let me tell you, Qin An, the sight of you makes me mad. You let the whole crowd beat you black and blue, and now you’ll want to take it out on me.” He went over and slapped him across the face, and those two came to blows as well. Ji Gong stood off to one side, doing nothing but laughing and egging them on. “Hey, how come you just let him hit you?” “I’m no match for him,” said the servant. “I’ll give you a hand,” said the monk. “Get a few blows in and turn him over, and you’ll be on top.” The monk watched them fight. One man twisted his mouth sideways and bit the other man’s ear off. The other man got really desperate, turned his head and bit off the first man’s nose. While they were all brawling, the prior came over and looked. “Daoji, this is no small trouble you’ve stirred up! You’ve had His Excellency Chancellor Qin’s stewards beaten into this sorry state — this is outrageous! Won’t you take that spell off?” “Brother,” said Ji Gong, “if you weren’t pleading for them, I’d have this gang of swindlers beat each other to death. I’ll let them off today. Stop fighting, you lot!” At those few words, sure enough, they all came to their senses and began blaming each other. “Brother Zhang Sheng,” said one servant, “you and I are the closest of friends. Why did you beat me so cruelly?” “How should I know?” said Zhang Sheng. “Look at my ear — you bit it off!” “Don’t start,” said the other. “Wasn’t that my nose you spat out of your mouth?” The Third Masters all blamed Qin An for stirring up trouble out of nothing. Qin An turned to the prior. “That mad monk — which temple is he from? Don’t let him get away. If there’s no mad monk when I come back, I’ll hold you answerable for him.” He ordered the Third Masters to bring the horses, and they left Lingyin Temple. All the way they whipped the horses on and still thought them slow. They came in through the Qiantang Gate and did not dismount until they reached Chancellor Qin’s mansion. There a colleague came out, and on seeing them all he said, “How did you come back in this state?” Qin An told him the whole business from beginning to end. “When you see His Excellency,” said the man, “don’t tell it the way it happened. Ask His Excellency to see you righted and arrest this gang of savage monks.” Qin An went to the study. Chancellor Qin was reading, and said as he read, “You four went to Lingyin Temple to borrow timber. Why have you come back like this?” “Your slave went on Your Lordship’s orders to Lingyin Temple on West Lake to borrow timber,” said Qin An. “The monks of that temple were all willing to lend it to Your Lordship. Only one mad monk not only refused to lend it but beat and insulted us. I beg Your Excellency to see us righted.” “So Lingyin Temple has another mad monk now?” said Chancellor Qin. “He dares to beat my servants — this is infuriating!” At once he marked a warrant with his vermilion brush and sent it to the capital garrison headquarters, calling out two officers and five hundred soldiers, while the prefecture and county yamens were each to bring their constables and troops to surround Lingyin Temple and arrest Ji Gong in chains.

To learn what happened next, read the next chapter.