Now, Zhao Bin was just about to untie the knots binding Wang Xing when someone behind him suddenly threw his arms around him. Zhao Bin meant to wrench himself free, but to his surprise he could not budge. He turned his head to look: it was Elder Ji Gong. “Master,” said Zhao Bin, “let go of me, quick. I thought Chancellor Qin had done away with you, old sir. I never imagined you’d still be here.” Only then did Ji Gong let go. “Zhao Bin, undo the knots in their ropes and come with me into the house. I have something to tell you.” Zhao Bin freed Wang Xing and his wife and let them down. Ji Gong took out two pieces of medicine and healed the wounds the beating had left on Wang Xing and his wife. The monk went into the house and sat himself down in the seat of honour. He gulped the wine, grabbed the food by the fistful and smeared grease all over his face. “Fine,” said Zhao Bin, “so this spread was laid on for you, Master.” “Zhao Bin,” said the monk, “go to the inner room at the north end of the west wing. There are four chests there. In the third chest is a box of gold weighing a hundred taels, and six packets of silver weighing three hundred taels. Bring them to me.” Zhao Bin hurried over and searched, and sure enough, it was just as Ji Gong had said. Zhao Bin brought the gold and silver over, and only then did Ji Gong ask, “Wang Xing, where are you from?” “My family comes from Yuhang County,” said Wang Xing. “Wang Xing,” said Ji Gong, “take this gold and silver. Tomorrow hire a boat with your mother and flee back to Yuhang County. The battered things in your house you can give to Zhao Bin. With this gold and silver you can buy some land when you get home and do a bit of business, and that will be plenty for you all to live on.” At this Wang Xing hastily threw himself down on the ground and kowtowed to the arhat1. “Zhao Bin,” said Ji Gong, “you see the two of them off.” “Master,” said Zhao Bin, “will you be all right here? I meant to kill Chancellor Qin to avenge you, old sir.” “Never you mind,” said Ji Gong. “I have my own plans. In three days you’re sure to hear news of it.” Zhao Bin nodded and agreed.

They were just about to leave when they heard someone over there say, “Come on, boys, follow me. Let’s see whether Wang Xing’s wife will give in to me or not.” The vicious servants answered, “Yes, sir.” Lanterns came into view: it was the second young master, Qin Huan, the Life-Chasing Ghost (Zhuiming Gui), back from Chancellor Qin’s mansion at the head of a pack of vicious servants. He had heard that the East Mansion2 was haunted and had gone to pay his respects to Chancellor Qin. Chancellor Qin doted on his son and, afraid he would be frightened, would not let him in, but told him to go back to his own garden and rest. That was why he had come back with all his men. The moment he reached the garden, he remembered Wang Xing’s wife. “Boys, go and see whether Wang Xing’s wife will give in to me or not. If she won’t, I’ll beat her to death on the spot.” Zhao Bin was horrified. “Master, this is terrible! They’ll have us cornered in here!” “Never mind,” said Ji Gong. The monk pointed outward with his finger and chanted the six-syllable mantra: “Om mani padme hum3.” All at once Qin Huan gave a shiver and toppled to the ground with a thud. His servants rushed up to help him, and everyone was thrown into confusion. Taking advantage of the confusion, Zhao Bin led Wang Xing and his wife straight to the side gate of the garden, out through it, and saw them home. Early the next morning Wang Xing hired a boat and fled with his mother and his wife, and gave the battered things in his house to Zhao Bin. But of that no more.

Our story turns to Ji Gong. Once Zhao Bin and the others had gone, he ate and drank his fill and went back to the empty room in the East Mansion as before. Meanwhile, Qin Huan had taken a tumble and was left shaken and frightened. His servants helped him into his room. “Oh, it’s hot!” said Qin Huan. Qin Yu took off his hat for him. “Hot!” said Qin Huan. The servants took off his robe. Qin Huan still cried that he was hot, so they hurriedly took off his inner robe. “Hot,” said Qin Huan. Qin Yu took off his boots and socks. “Hot,” said Qin Huan. Qin Yu took off his gown and his trousers. Qin Huan cried that he was hot, and Qin Yu ordered them to fan him, quick. Even with the fanning he was hot, so Qin Yu had two blocks of ice carried in. No sooner had the men brought the ice in than Qin Huan cried that he was freezing, and the ice was thrown out at once. “Cold,” said Qin Huan. They put his gown and trousers back on him. He still cried cold, so they put his socks and boots back on too. “Cold,” said Qin Huan. They put on his inner robe, and he still cried cold; they put on his robe, still cold; they added his hat, still cold; they covered him with two quilts, and still he said he was cold. Qin Yu called for a brazier, but the moment the brazier was lit, Qin Huan started shouting that he was hot again. They took the brazier out, and he was still hot, so off came his clothes again. But there is no need to tell it all. Like this, from cold to hot and hot to cold, it went on four or five times, and the night was far gone. Suddenly Qin Huan said, “My head itches! It itches something awful. Somebody come and scratch it for me, quick!” Qin Yu went over and scratched it with his hand, but who would have thought it — the more he scratched, the bigger it got, and in a moment the head had swollen to the size of a grain peck. Qin Yu was so frightened he dared not scratch any more, and the servants all stood there gaping, struck dumb. By now it was already light. “Shouldn’t we send word to the East Mansion, quick?” said Qin Yu.

Chancellor Qin was on leave and had not gone to court. With ghosts making a commotion half the night, he had not got round to questioning the monk either. Now that day had dawned he was just about to rest when a servant came in from outside and reported, “Someone has come with a message: the young master is ill.” When Chancellor Qin heard this — father and son are joined at the heart — he hurried with his attendants to Qin Huan’s garden. Entering the room, he saw Qin Huan rolling about on the heated brick bed, his head as big as a peck measure. Chancellor Qin lost his temper. “You slaves4, you’re truly infuriating! The young master is this ill — why didn’t you send word to me sooner?” “There is something Your Excellency does not know,” said Qin Yu. “Last night, when the young master came back from the East Mansion, he happened to take a fall, and as soon as he got into the room he cried that he was hot. When we undressed him he said he was cold, and when we dressed him he cried hot again. It went on like this several times, and afterwards he cried that his head itched, so your slave scratched it for him. The more I scratched, the bigger it grew. It’s a strange illness, this.” Chancellor Qin at once ordered, “Quick, send for a famous physician to treat him.” The servants answered.

Now, in the city of Lin’an there were two famous physicians. One was Tang Wanfang, known as the Restorer of Life at a Touch (Zhixia Huoren); the other was Li Huaichun, known as Shuhe’s Better5 (Sai Shuhe). The servants hurried to Li Huaichun’s house to fetch him. When Li Huaichun heard it was Chancellor Qin’s mansion, he could not refuse. He went with the servants to the gate of Chancellor Qin’s mansion, and word was sent in. Chancellor Qin, burning with impatience, at once ordered him shown in. A servant led Li Huaichun inside. Chancellor Qin saw that Li Huaichun wore a four-cornered carefree scarf on his head, a blue robe and cloak, and official boots with patterned soles; he had a fine bearing and a most distinguished air. Qin hastily invited him into the room, and tea was served. Li Huaichun took the young master Qin Huan’s pulse and was baffled. His eyes told him the head was enormous, yet going by the cun, guan and chi positions6, the six pulses and the twelve channels, there was nothing wrong with him. He examined him for a long time and could not tell through which channel this illness of the head had come; he simply had no idea what medicine to use. At last he said, “As for the young master’s illness, my skill is meagre and my learning shallow. Your Excellency had better seek someone more able. I truly cannot cure it.” “How should I know who is more able?” said Chancellor Qin. “Mr Li, you must know. Recommend someone to me.” Li Huaichun thought, “If I can’t cure it, Brother Tang can’t either, and an illness he can’t cure, I can’t either. Apart from the two of us, who else is there to recommend?” Having thought this, he said, “Your Excellency, I really have no one to recommend.” At this Chancellor Qin truly lost his temper. “Since you can neither cure my son’s illness nor recommend anyone, don’t you dream of leaving this mansion of mine today!” “All he knows is how to crush people with his power!” Li Huaichun thought. Then suddenly it came to him: “Why don’t I recommend Master Ji?” Having thought this, he said, “Your Excellency, if you want the young master cured, there’s only one man — only he’s a drunk and a madman and his clothes are a mess, and I’m afraid Your Excellency will take offence.” “What does that matter,” said Chancellor Qin, “so long as he can cure my son’s illness?” “But he’s a man who has left home for the religious life,” said Li Huaichun. “Never mind whether he’s left home,” said Chancellor Qin. “So long as he can cure the illness, that’s all that matters. Tell me who he is, and go and fetch him quick!” “It’s Crazy Ji of Lingyin Temple by West Lake,” said Li Huaichun. “So it’s him!” said Chancellor Qin. “That mad monk is locked up in my east courtyard right now.” When Li Huaichun heard that Ji Gong was locked up, it all became clear to him. “No wonder the boy’s grown a head like a great jar7.” Chancellor Qin hurriedly ordered a servant, “Go and call the mad monk here. If he can cure my son’s illness, I’ll let him go back to his temple and pardon his offence.”

The servant hurried to the empty rooms in the east courtyard and looked: everyone in there, the monk included, was up. “Monk,” the servant said, “great fortune is coming your way8.” “A great fire in the stove?” said Ji Gong. “That burns a lot of firewood.” “His Excellency wants you to go and treat the young master,” said the servant. “If you can cure him, you’ll be let go back to your temple.” “Your master the chancellor had me brought here in chains,” said the monk, “meaning to put me on trial. If he calls me for that, I’ll come the moment I’m called. But if he wants this monk to treat an illness, you tell him I said: scrubbed9.” “Fine,” said the servant. “I’ll go and give His Excellency exactly that answer.” The servant went back and said to Chancellor Qin, “Reporting to Your Excellency: I went and told him the Chancellor wanted the monk to come and treat an illness. He said if it was to put him on trial, he’d come the moment he was called, but if it’s to treat an illness, he says: scrubbed.” Chancellor Qin did not understand the phrase and asked Li Huaichun what ‘scrubbed’ meant. Li Huaichun smiled faintly. “That’s just a joke. If Your Excellency wants him to treat the illness, you must use the word ‘invite’.” Chancellor Qin doted on his son. “Very well. Go and tell him I invite him to come and treat the illness.” “That monk’s luck really is in,” the servant thought. He hurried to the east courtyard, found the monk and said, “Monk, you really do put on airs. His Excellency has sent me to invite you to treat the illness.” “Your master the chancellor holds the office of chief minister and ranks among the Three Eminences10,” said the monk. “This monk has never had any dealings with him. If he goes making friends with monks and Taoists and the censors get wind of it, they’ll impeach him.” “Some monk you are!” said the servant. “Fine talk! I’ll go and report you — off to see His Lordship.” He went off on his own to the West Garden, found Chancellor Qin and said, “Reporting to Your Excellency: I went over there and saw the monk. Your slave told him Your Lordship invites him to treat the young master. He said Your Lordship holds the office of chief minister and ranks among the Three Eminences, that he and Your Lordship have never had any dealings, and that if Your Lordship makes friends with monks and Taoists and the censors hear of it, they’ll impeach Your Lordship.” At these words Chancellor Qin flew into a rage. “What an insolent monk!” “Don’t be angry, Your Excellency,” said Li Huaichun. “If you want the monk to treat the young master, Your Lordship must go in person.” Chancellor Qin saw the young master rolling all over the bed and could do nothing else. “Mr Li, you must come with me. When we get there, we’ll see what the monk does.” “Yes, sir,” said Li Huaichun, and he went with Chancellor Qin to the courtyard of the empty rooms in the East Mansion.

Chancellor Qin cleared his throat — meaning, let the servants know I’ve come, and you’d all better behave. Sure enough, the servants in the room heard it and all stood up. “His Lordship is here.” “Everybody,” said Ji Gong, “that’s a dog barking.” The servants hastily hushed him. “Don’t talk nonsense. His Lordship is here.” Chancellor Qin came in with Li Huaichun and stepped up before Ji Gong. “Monk,” said Chancellor Qin, “my young son has been taken with a strange illness, and I have come in person to invite you to cure it.” “I was brought here in chains by Your Lordship,” said the monk. “Nobody invited me here to cure any illness.” At this Chancellor Qin flew into a rage. “Very well, very well.” Li Huaichun saw that things were going badly and said quickly, “Your Lordship, calm your thunderous wrath for a moment. I’ll go over and be sure to get Ji Gong to come.” Chancellor Qin had no choice but to step back. Mr Li went over and had a few words with him, and the holy monk set his Buddhist magic to work and made a grand show of his supernatural powers, meaning to make sport of Chancellor Qin.

To learn what happened next, read the next chapter.