Now, Ji Gong had Yang Ming, Lei Ming and Chen Liang follow him north, and they had not gone far when the three heroes looked round and Ji Gong was gone. They looked again: there in the grove ahead stood Hua Yunlong with another man. The three heroes took a look at him. The man was a full zhang tall1, with a head as big as a grain measure. On his head was a six-panel warrior’s cap of black satin; he wore a black satin robe with archer’s sleeves, a silk sash with luan birds at his waist, an unlined jacket beneath, and thin-soled boots. His face was like the bottom of a black cooking pot, with thick brows and big eyes, a straight nose and a wide mouth. On his shoulder he carried a four-edged mace2 of fine steel. Yang Ming looked him over carefully. It was none other than a man from Jiangfeng County, surnamed Lu and named Tong.

This man had been born a great hulking fellow. His father died early; his mother was Madam Wang. The family was poor, and they lived entirely on the needlework old Mrs. Wang took in. By the time Lu Tong was sixteen, he understood nothing whatever of the ways of the world. One day old Mrs. Wang said, “Son, you’re a big boy now, and yet you can’t carry a load on your shoulder or a basket on your arm. Your mother’s getting old. What can you do to find us something to eat?” “That’s easy,” said Lu Tong. “I’ll go find some.” And out he went. Soon he came back with two jin of flatbread. “Here, Ma,” he said. “Eat.” The old lady looked at it. “Where did you get that?” she said. “I just went out,” said Lu Tong, “and saw a fellow holding some bread. I went over and slapped him across the face and grabbed the bread.” When the old lady heard this, she said, “You foolish boy, how can you be so thick! The realm has its laws, and the code is written plain. If you rob people in the street and they catch you, there’ll be the devil to pay! No more robbing from tomorrow.” But Lu Tong was a simpleton, and once he had got into the habit of going out to rob, he grabbed from anyone he saw. Nobody dared cross him, because he had been born with such strength that no one could beat him. Now, there was a provincial graduate in those parts named Wu, a wealthy man who loved nothing better than doing good, and who kept a great many shops. When he saw Lu Tong grabbing things at the door of one of his shops, Graduate Wu said, “Who is this? What nerve! Robbing in broad daylight! Seize him, and send him to the yamen with my card3 to be punished!” An old man standing by, a good-hearted sort, said, “Master Wu, you don’t know him, sir. He’s called Lu Tong, and he’s a simpleton. There’s just him and his old mother at home, with nothing to live on. Thick as he is, he’s the most dutiful son4 to his mother — he robs things to feed her. If you were to help him out, sir, it would be a good deed.” Graduate Wu was a kindly man at heart, and when he heard that Lu Tong was a dutiful son — and a dutiful son is someone everyone respects — he called Lu Tong over. “What’s your name?” he said. “My surname’s Lu and I’m called Tong,” said Lu Tong. “Stop robbing,” said the graduate. “Every day you can go to the Deyu Grain Shop and collect a string of cash to keep you and your mother. How’s that?” “You’ll give me a string a day?” said Lu Tong. “Good lad!5” When Graduate Wu heard that, he thought it not bad at all: give away a string of cash and be called a good lad for it — not bad at all. He knew Lu Tong was a simpleton, so he didn’t hold it against him. From then on Lu Tong took his string of cash every day and bought food. He gave his mother hers first, and ate up all the rest himself. One day, after he had eaten, he took an iron staff from the house and went out into the hills to roam about. It so happened that twenty-one families of hunters were holding a ring hunt and had driven down a great many river deer, wildcats and wild deer. When Lu Tong saw them, he went over, beat every one of them to death with his staff, slung them on a pole and made off. The hunters came running up. “Those are beasts our ring drove down,” they all said. “Don’t you go carrying them off, you big black brute.” “You won’t let your granddad take ’em?” said Lu Tong. “Then grab ’em yourselves. Whoever grabs ’em keeps ’em.” The hunters came at him, but they were no match for him.

There was nothing they could do, and they let the beasts go. Lu Tong carried them off on his pole and sold them. He had no idea what they were worth, and sold them for whatever he was offered. He brought the money home and stopped going to the grain shop for his string of cash. Every day he went into the hills to kill game, and none of the hunters dared cross him. They talked it over among themselves. “Lu Tong makes trouble for us every day,” they said. “Let’s make a deal with him: we’ll give him a string of cash a day to help us hunt, and save ourselves from being robbed.” The next time they ran into Lu Tong, they put it to him: a string of cash a day, and he would help them kill game and share it out among the hunters. Lu Tong was willing. Every day he brought home a string of cash and bought food for his old mother. Then one day his old mother died. When Lu Tong came home he didn’t understand. He saw her lying on the kang, not saying a word. “Ma,” he called, “come and eat.” A neighbour came over and took a look. “Your mother’s dead!” he said. “What’s dead?” said Lu Tong. “When you’re dead you don’t talk any more and you don’t eat any more,” said the neighbour. “Buy a coffin and bury her. Otherwise, leave her a couple of days and she’ll stink.” “So this is called dead?” said Lu Tong. “Don’t talk any more, don’t eat any more. Buy a coffin and bury her, otherwise leave her a couple of days and she’ll stink.” “That’s right,” said the neighbour. Lu Tong went over, hoisted his old mother onto his back and headed out the door. “Where are you going?” said the neighbour. “To the coffin shop,” said Lu Tong. “I’ll see which coffin’s good and put her in it, and that’s that.” “You really are a dolt!” said the neighbour. “Nobody runs through the streets with a corpse on his back. Put her down. Go find the hunters and have them buy a coffin and bury her.” Lu Tong agreed and went to the hunters’ houses. “What have you come for?” they asked. “My old mother’s dead,” said Lu Tong. “Doesn’t talk any more and doesn’t eat any more. Buy a coffin and bury her, otherwise in a couple of days she’ll stink. I’ve come to get you to buy the coffin.” They all thought, “Well, that’s something — he’s a dutiful son.” And some of the good-hearted among them said, “This is a good deed. Let’s all chip in for a coffin and bury his old mother.” Now Lu Tong was left all alone, and he went on helping the hunters as before, taking a string of cash a day. None of the twenty-one hunting families liked it, but they didn’t dare not pay him. One day one of them, a man surnamed Yin who went by the nickname Yin All-the-Way6 (Yin Daodi), said, “A string of cash every day to Lu Tong — aren’t we being robbed?” “There’s nothing for it,” they all said. “If each of you hands me one string of cash,” said Yin All-the-Way, “I can send him packing.” “If you can pull it off,” they said, “the twenty of us will hand you twenty strings.” Yin All-the-Way agreed, and they gave him the money. So one day he invited Lu Tong to a meal.