Now, Ji Gong had made sport of Guanghui by turning his peaches into a few eggplants. Ji Gong said to Zheng Xiong, “Go into the inner courtyard and ask the old lady to come out. I’m going to do a rare conjuring trick, and I’ll let the old lady see it clearly.” “That won’t do,” said Zheng Xiong. “My old mother has been blind in both eyes for a good two years. How could she see it?” “It’s because the old lady is blind in both eyes that I want her to watch,” said Ji Gong. “If it were someone with eyes, it wouldn’t count as any great skill.” Zheng Xiong knew the monk was no ordinary man, so he went to the back and invited the old lady out.

I’ll clear out a house just for you and your wife to live in. Holy monk, for your mercy, let me give you a change of clothes.” “No need to change my clothes,” said Ji Gong. “This monk is asking you for alms: give your two qing3 of rice paddies outside the Qingbo Gate to Liu Taizhen of Sanqing Temple as endowment land4 for that temple, and that will count as thanking this monk.” Guanghui sat to one side watching Crazy Ji show off his wonders, and he was seething with resentment. He stood up. “Lord Zheng, I know there’s a monster haunting the garden behind your house. I’m willing to go back there, catch it and cleanse the house, and I won’t take a single copper, not a thing. All I want is to match my magic against Crazy Ji’s and see which of us can do it and which can’t.” “Fine,” said Ji Gong. “Since you put it that way, I’ll go back there with you to catch the monster and cleanse the house, drive off the ghosts and cure the sickness, and I’ll even let you work your magic first. If you catch the evil spirit, I lose. If you can’t, this monk takes over.” “Very well,” said Guanghui. “Let’s go now.” “Don’t be in such a hurry,” said Ji Gong. “We’ll go after we’ve eaten. Nobody catches monsters in broad daylight. The evil spirits don’t come out.” “This garden of mine,” said Zheng Xiong, “I don’t know whether it’s a monster or an immortal. Often when my servants sleep upstairs in the building back there, they get thrown down out of it. Or else the things in the rooms clatter about and get flung all over the floor. Or there’s nobody upstairs, and the lamps light up. But no one has ever seen anything. I don’t know whether it’s a monster or a demon, and I can’t make head or tail of it. It’s been going on for a good half year.” “No matter,” said Guanghui. “Tonight, whether it’s a monster or a demon or a ghost, I’ll summon it here and finish it off with my monk’s knife.”

Everyone chatted until it grew dark. “What will you two monks need?” Zheng Xiong asked. Guanghui took a brush and wrote out a list, and Zheng Xiong had the servants prepare everything just as written and set it all out properly in the garden. When the two monks came into the garden and looked, there was an Eight Immortals table, one chair, a set of incense burner and candle spikes, one stick of long-life incense, one set of paper offerings5, an inkstone, a piece of bletilla root6, a packet of cinnabar, two new brushes, a sheet of yellow rough-edged paper, a sprig of coriander, a dish of the five grains and a bowl of rootless water. Guanghui looked it over. First he lit the incense and candles, then he prayed to the gods passing by: “Protect your disciple Guanghui and let him catch the monster, and he will go back to his temple, burn incense, make offerings and give thanks to Heaven above.” His prayer done, he ground the cinnabar with the bletilla in rootless water, took up a brush and drew three talismans. He burned them himself, turning them into magic charms, and muttering an incantation he said, “Burn the first talisman, and a wild wind will rise; the second will summon the evil spirit here; with the third, my monk’s knife will finish it off.”

Zheng Xiong stood to one side with one bold servant, watching. Ji Gong stood there holding a wine pot and said not a word. He watched Guanghui mutter his incantation, light the first talisman and toss it out, and nothing happened at all: not a breath of wind. The servants all snickered. “Monk Guang is all talk. He can’t do a thing.” Guanghui threw out the second talisman, and again nothing happened. Now Guanghui was truly getting desperate. He flung the third talisman out, and at once a strange wind blew in from outside, stirring up sand and ash and sending the dust flying. What was it like? There is a verse of praise to prove it:

When the wind had passed, the door of the three-bay building opposite swung open, and out came an aged old man with a face like a boy’s, crane-white hair and a hoary beard. On his head was a bronze-coloured square-cornered scarf, on his back a bronze-coloured cloak; he wore white socks and cloud-patterned shoes and held a fly whisk in his hand. He pointed at Guanghui. “Very well, Guanghui! There’s been no grudge between you and me, past or present. Why have you come specially to disturb me? What for?” With that he pointed his fly whisk, and a stream of white vapour shot at Guanghui. Guanghui’s head swam, everything went black, and he toppled to the ground. Ji Gong, wine pot in hand, gave a hearty laugh. “You’re one who cultivates the Way. You’ve stepped into the red dust7 for no reason, and you even dare bully a disciple of the Three Jewels8?” When he had said this, the monk slapped his head and revealed his three lights9. Now, that immortal was a cultivator of the Way who lived upstairs in the building, with several thousand years of cultivation. It was only because Zheng Xiong’s servants were often unclean and had offended him that he had made trouble upstairs.

Now that he saw Ji Gong reveal his three lights, the immortal, being a cultivator of the Way, did not dare come near, for fear that if Ji Gong’s three lights shone on him, five hundred years of his cultivation would be stripped away. Men have the speech of men, and beasts the speech of beasts; but this fox immortal could take human form, so his arts went deep. He said hastily, “Holy monk, don’t be angry. This isn’t my fault. Zheng Xiong’s servants offended this little fox. They don’t know how to behave, so I was teaching them a lesson.” “Get yourself out of here, quick!” said Ji Gong. “If you don’t go, I’ll call down thunder10 to strike you.” And at once the immortal turned into a cool breeze and was gone. Only then did Ji Gong take out a pill and cure Guanghui.

Guanghui was so ashamed his face burned red to the ears. He took his leave and went back to the Sanqing Shrine. Ji Gong stayed at Zheng Xiong’s house. Early next morning Zheng Xiong treated him to wine and food. Since Ji Gong had cured his mother’s eyes, he was deeply grateful and wanted to give him new clothes. “If you want to thank me this time,” said Ji Gong, and he whispered thus and so in his ear. Zheng Xiong nodded and agreed, and only then did Ji Gong take his leave. He left the Zheng residence and walked on, heading straight for the Qiantang Gate. Outside the Qiantang Gate he saw a dog-meat seller’s carrying-pole load by the side of the main road. The dog-meat seller himself was squatting at the foot of the big spirit screen across from Yuhuang Pavilion11, relieving himself. Ji Gong opened his eyes of wisdom and looked, then consulted his inner light with three claps of his hands. “Truly the most filial son in the whole world!” said Ji Gong. “If this monk doesn’t come and save him, thunder is sure to take him.” With that thought, the monk called out, “Whose dog-meat load is this?” He asked three times, but no one answered.

A word of explanation: this dog-meat seller was surnamed Dong, and his name was Dong Ping. He lived inside the Qiantang Gate, and at home there was only his mother and the wife he had married, Madam Han. By temperament Dong Ping was very much given to suspicion, and he was often unfilial to his mother. Not that he did anything very wrong; it was only that his words to her were contrary. First thing in the morning he would bicker with his mother and tell her she didn’t know what was good for her. His wife, Madam Han, was a good and virtuous woman and often reasoned with him: “Mother is so old. You shouldn’t go making trouble out of nothing and upsetting her.” Then Dong Ping would hold his tongue and go out to do his business. That day Dong Ping put the meat on to boil at home and told Madam Han to watch the pot while he went out to buy a dog. In the Song period people were allowed to buy dogs and sell dog meat. Dong Ping came to a lane and saw a man standing at a gate on the north side, thirty-some years old and dressed like a tradesman. “You buy dogs to sell the meat?” the man said. “That’s right,” said Dong Ping. “I never wanted to keep a dog,” the man said. “Last year a stray turned up. I chased it, but it wouldn’t go, and when I shut the gate at night, the dog got shut inside the yard. One night I heard it barking, got up to look, and there was a thief prying at the gate. I chased the thief off, and I thought, this dog is some use after all, so I kept it. This year it had a pup, and the two dogs fight each other. I’m afraid they’ll knock into the children, so I’ve a mind to sell it. But how can it be right to raise a creature kindly and then have it slaughtered like an enemy? I don’t want any money. Just take it for nothing.” This is a stroke of luck, Dong Ping thought. He tied up the big dog with a rope, hoisted the pup onto his shoulder, thanked the man and led the dog home. At home he left the big dog in the yard and went straight inside and fetched a knife to kill it. He set the knife down in the yard and went back in for a basin, and when he came out, the knife was gone. “Did you take the knife?” Dong Ping asked his wife. “I haven’t seen it,” said Madam Han. Dong Ping searched, and found that the pup had carried the knife in its mouth over to the east side and was hiding it under its body, with only the handle showing. Dong Ping came over, kicked the pup aside, took the knife and went to slaughter the big dog. The pup ran over and threw itself across the big dog’s neck, baring its teeth and staring at Dong Ping, tears falling from its eyes drop by drop. Dong Ping let out a great shout, flung the knife to the ground and ran into the house, leaving Madam Han staring dumbstruck. What could the reason be?

To learn what happened next, read the next chapter.