Now, Ji Gong was joking with the waiter when two men came in from outside. They were dressed as personal attendants. First they paid his bill, then came over and saluted Ji Gong. “Holy monk, we two are Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu, from the Lin’an prefect’s yamen1. We serve His Honour the prefect. Our old mistress has lost the sight of both eyes, and when our master got the letter, he sent for every famous doctor to treat her. He called in ever so many, and they all said they were no good at eyes. Then a Mr Li Huaichun, known as Shuhe’s Better2 (Sai Shuhe), put your name forward to His Lordship. He said that at Chancellor Qin’s mansion you cured Big-Head Jar3, and at the Su residence you cured a fit of phlegm, and he knows you’re a holy man above this world. So we two were sent to ask you to come, and it took us no end of trouble to find you. Please come and treat her. Holy monk, show great compassion and come with us!” “I’m a man who’s left his family,” said Ji Gong. “What would I know about medicine? You two go back. I can’t treat eyes.” Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu begged and pleaded, and only then did Ji Gong agree.

This prefect was surnamed Zhao and named Fengshan. He had risen through the examinations and was an exceedingly shrewd man. He had a younger cousin named Zhao Fengming. Having lost both parents young, he had been brought up by his aunt. Lately a letter from home had told him that the old lady, his aunt, had lost her sight, and he had hurried to engage doctors, meaning to send them home to treat her eyes. But the several doctors he called in all said they could do nothing, and so Li Huaichun had recommended Ji Gong. “Ji Gong is a master of the arts of Qi and Huang5,” he had said. “The moment he lays hands on an illness, it’s cured.” That was why the prefect had sent for Ji Gong today. He promptly ordered wine set out to entertain him. “I beg you, holy monk, to go to Kunshan and treat the illness.” The monk agreed readily. “Since Your Honour asks it, how would this monk dare refuse?” “I’ll send Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu to wait on you, holy monk,” said Prefect Zhao. “No, no,” said the monk. “You’re sending these two to wait on me, sir — but look at the clothes they’re wearing! And look at the state of this monk. The two of them waiting on the likes of me — it won’t look right!” “That’s easily settled,” said the prefect. “I’ll get you a set of clothes to change into, holy monk. Your clothes are far too ragged anyway. A new set and that’s that.” “No,” said the monk. “I don’t like wearing new clothes. This is how I am. But since you’re sending these two stewards to wait on me, I’ve got one thing to say, and I want to say it plainly right here in front of your master. When these two wait on me on the road, if I say go, we go, and if I say stop, we stop. They’re not allowed to go against me. The moment they go against me, I turn round and come back, and I’m not going.” Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu nodded again and again. The prefect at once wrote a letter home and put up several ingots of gold to go with it. “Holy monk,” he asked, “will you go by sedan chair or on horseback? By cart or by boat?” “I’ll ride a lu6,” said the monk. “A lu — a deer, holy monk?” said the prefect. “Where would I find you one of those?” “Lu as in road,” said the monk. “I don’t need any of that. Just send plenty of money for the journey. Give me two hundred and fifty taels of silver.” The prefect nodded and agreed. When the silver was ready, the monk took his leave and set out with Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu. Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu did their sums. “Fifty taels is more than enough for the trip to Kunshan County and back. That leaves a hundred each for the two of us. We’ll wait on the monk properly on the road. This errand’s turned out a plum!” And they followed the monk on his way.

One day at noon the monk said, “We’ll stop at an inn.” “Yes,” said the two. At the inn he called for wine and dishes, and when he had eaten and drunk, the monk lay down and went straight to sleep, while the two of them sat there until the lamps were lit. The monk woke up and called for wine and dishes again. By the time he had finished eating and drinking, Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu were sleepy, but the monk said, “Settle the bill. I’ve had my sleep and I feel like going.” Bleary-eyed, the two of them followed him, stumbling one foot deep and one foot shallow, and walked all night. At daybreak, just as everyone else was leaving the inns, they went into one. The two were past caring about food; they lay down and went to sleep, while the monk called for wine and dishes. The two slept the whole day and woke up refreshed, thinking they would eat something and be on their way — and now the monk wasn’t in the mood. The monk went to sleep. Having slept all day, the two weren’t sleepy any more, and sat staring wide-eyed while the monk slept the whole night through. At daybreak the two were worn out, but the monk woke up, drank his wine, settled the inn bill and set off. The two were in a daze. They could not eat, and they could not sleep in peace. The monk was running them ragged, and they were truly miserable.

On this day they were going along, not far from Kunshan County. Nearby was a hamlet, and inside a fenced yard stood a three-room mud house. From over there they heard someone wailing and sobbing: “Gods and Buddhas who won’t open your eyes! Heaven and Earth with no eyes or ears! I’m so poor I’ve come to this — Mother, now you’re dead, I can’t even buy you a coffin!” Chan Master Ji Gong worked it out by his inner light and knew at once that the man living here was surnamed Gao and named Gao Guangli. He was a filial son who lived by cutting firewood and served his mother with the utmost devotion. That day, while cutting firewood, he had slipped on the mountain, fallen and hurt his leg. Someone had carried him home. When his mother saw him she was beside herself with worry. There was no money to spare — what were they to do? The worry brought her old illness back, and with an alas and alack she breathed her last. Gao Guangli could not even buy a coffin and was wailing and sobbing on his own. Just as he was lamenting, Ji Gong heard him from outside, and the monk’s heart was moved. “Everybody likes to do a good deed,” he thought, “but once silver has to be spent, they can’t bear to part with it. If this monk gives him the silver openly, I expect Zhao Fu and the other one won’t stand for it.” With that thought, Ji Gong pointed through the fence into the yard. “You two stewards, look at that treasure.” Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu looked. Inside was a stone, all jagged edges and corners, glittering, with golden light swirling about it. When Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu saw it, they asked, “Holy monk, what’s that?” “That’s a treasure,” said Ji Gong, “worth a string of cities.” “If it’s a treasure,” said Zhao Fu, “why don’t the owners put it away instead of leaving it out here?” “How muddle-headed you are,” said Ji Gong. “As the saying goes, ‘When your luck runs out, gold loses its colour; when your time comes, even iron shines.’ These people must have no luck and don’t know. If they knew it was a treasure, they’d never leave it lying here. This monk will go over and buy it. You two don’t come. I’ll go and buy it, and if there’s money made on it, you two split it down the middle, half and half8. This monk doesn’t want any.” “So long as there’s money made,” said Zhao Fu, “we two will be sure to see you right, holy monk. Go on over and buy it!” The monk hurried forward. “Anyone inside?” A woman came out, dressed in rags and tatters. “Oh, Reverend Master, who are you looking for?” “I heard someone’s died here,” said Ji Gong. “This monk is asking whether you’ll be holding a Feeding of the Flaming Mouths7.” “Reverend Master,” the woman said, “we haven’t even got a coffin here. We can’t hold any Feeding of the Flaming Mouths. Reverend Master, please go. We can’t even afford to give you a meal.” “I’m not begging a meal off you either,” said the monk. Pointing to the stone that propped the fence gate shut, the monk said, “Will you sell this treasure of yours?” “We’ve got a treasure?” the woman thought. “This stone has been lying here propping the gate ever since I married into the family. It’s good for nothing — how can he call it a treasure?” Having thought it over, the woman said, “I’ll sell!” “How much do you want?” said the monk. The woman stood dumbfounded a long while without a word, not knowing what to ask. “You needn’t name a price,” said the monk. “I’ll name one for you. I haven’t got any more than this: I’ll give you two hundred and thirty-seven taels of silver. Will you sell or not?” When Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu heard this, they thought, “He really knows how to name a price! Out of two hundred and fifty taels he’s spent thirteen, that leaves two hundred and thirty-seven — and he calls himself a good buyer, handing every bit of the silver over!” The two of them listened, fuming. Hearing the monk name his price, the woman thought of selling, but was afraid she was letting it go too cheap; she thought of not selling, but she badly needed the money. Having thought it over, she said, “Sold.” “Zhao Fu, Zhao Lu, give her the silver, quick,” said the monk. “Pick it up and run. If you drop it on the ground and frighten the treasure away, it won’t be worth a single copper.”

Zhao Fu came over and set the two hundred and thirty-seven taels of silver down on the ground. “Zhao Lu,” said Zhao Fu, “help me carry it.” “I won’t help you carry it,” said Zhao Lu. “You shoulder it first. When you can’t manage any more, I’ll take over from you.” Zhao Fu thought that would do. He heaved the stone onto his shoulder. It really did weigh seventy or eighty jin9. After walking a li or so he was worn out, every ounce of strength gone. “Holy monk,” said Zhao Fu, “what’s this treasure called?” “This is called the Dog-Pressing Stone,” said the monk. “It’s a fine treasure,” said Zhao Fu, “only the name’s no good. Why is it called the Dog-Pressing Stone?” “That’s just what it’s called,” said the monk. “Holy monk,” said Zhao Fu, “I can’t carry it any more. Can I have a rest?” “No,” said the monk. “If you put it down on the ground, the treasure will get away, and it won’t be worth a single copper.” “Where are we carrying it to sell it?” said Zhao Fu. “It won’t sell in Kunshan,” said the monk. “It’ll have to be carried back to Lin’an to sell.” At this Zhao Fu said, “It’ll crush me to death! Zhao Lu, do you want your share of the money or not?” “I want my share,” said Zhao Lu. “If you want your share,” said Zhao Fu, “don’t leave me carrying it alone. You take a turn too.” Zhao Lu took the stone and shouldered it. “Holy monk,” he said, “what if we sell it in Kunshan, would that do?” “That’ll do too,” said the monk. “You’ll just get less for it. In Lin’an it would fetch twenty thousand taels. In Kunshan it’ll only fetch ten thousand — half as much.” “We weren’t born lucky enough for twenty thousand taels,” said Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu. “Selling it in Kunshan will do fine.”

The two of them were bathed in sweat from the weight, and at long last they reached Kunshan. When they got to the busy part of town on Shizi Street10, the monk said, “You two hold the treasure on your shoulders and stand here and sell it.” Several people came over from the side and saw these two men, neatly dressed in cap and gown, standing there with a big rock on their shoulders. “What are you two up to?” the people asked. “Selling a treasure,” said Zhao Fu. “You mean this rock is the treasure?” said two of them. “It is,” said Zhao Fu. The two smiled faintly and walked off. It happened a dozen times and more, always the same: one question and off they went. Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu were standing there at a loss when they heard someone over there say, “In this world, where there are buyers, there are sellers. Go on, buy it.” Zhao Fu and Zhao Lu opened their eyes wide and looked: two buyers had arrived. At once the two of them were dreaming of making their fortune.

Who were the newcomers? To learn what happened next, read the next chapter.