Now, when the girl pushed Xiangzi out of the door, there was neither moon nor starlight and he could not make out the path. All he could do was collect his spirit and steady his breath, and sit at the foot of a big tree to wait for daylight. Little did he know that back in the house the girl was grumbling at the old man: “Such a handsome little Daoist lad — he could never have stood much suffering. If you’d let me string him up from the beam at the back, he’d have married into the family soon enough. And then my old grandfather has to go and drive him off, just like that! What if he meets tigers or wolves on the road — won’t they bite him to death? Where will I ever find another handsome young gentleman like him?” A moment later she was cursing Xiangzi: “That little thieving Daoist won’t so much as look at a person. He’s so terribly rude! He must have been born out of a hollow mulberry1 tree, or else he came floating down the river at birth, like the monk Jiangliu. Now he’s gone out of my door tonight, and if a tiger doesn’t maul him, a snake is sure to bite him, and then the pigs will drag him about and the dogs will chew him up. And all my warm-hearted kindness wasted!” A moment later she was calling out again: “A fine-looking man like you — surely you’re not dull inside. Why harden your heart so, and not soften one little bit? Are you Liuxia Hui2 born again, or Feng Zhi come back to the world?” A moment later she was calling to the old man: “Grandad, I’m sorry to put you out, but quick, light a torch and go and bring that young gentleman back. Don’t let him throw his life away for nothing.” And a moment later: “Old as you are, your eyes are dim and your ears are deaf, and you’d never find him in the dark. He can’t have gone far. I may have only my tiny bound feet, but I’ll go myself and coax him back.” Every one of these soft, sweet, coaxing speeches was carried on the wind, phrase by phrase, right into Xiangzi’s ears, in the hope of moving him. But who could have known? Xiangzi’s resolve to cultivate the Way was firm as gold and stone, and not a hair of it could be shaken. Hearing these voices and words only made him more impatient than ever, and without a thought for the pitch dark or the rough ground underfoot, he stumbled straight on ahead. He had gone no more than thirty or fifty paces when he heard the wind weeping in the trees and water babbling, chang ghosts3 shrieking and mountain goblins answering behind them. There was nothing for it but to force himself on at a run for two or three li. Far ahead he saw two lamps shining bright. A great gust of wind came roaring up from the ground along with them, and their light shot straight toward Xiangzi without once flickering in the wind. Xiangzi murmured to himself, “My masters have heard me and answered! They’ve seen me groping about in the pitch dark, unable to find my way, so they’ve sent two lamps from far off to light my road.” Before he had finished murmuring, the lamps drew nearer and nearer, till they were only half a bowshot away — and they were not two lamps at all, but the gleaming eyes of a fierce tiger. When the tiger saw Xiangzi, it put on all its terrible might. And how fearsome was that tiger’s might?