39

Heavenly Preceptors, with Their Theatrics, Claim to Subdue Drought Demons

A County Magistrate, in His Sincerity, Prays for Sweet Rain from Heaven

AS the poem says,

In olden times, there were wondrous shamans

Able to call demons to their service.

They saw weal and woe to come;

They explained yin and yang in words of wisdom.

They not only appealed to lords and dukes

But at times also impressed the emperors.

Their successors, alas, bear no resemblance to them;

Those of the new breed are nothing more than crude villagers.

They talk nothing but nonsense,

But they win the hearts of the populace.

Day in and day out, they practice their cults,

Slaughtering animals with abandon.

If only Ximen Bao could come back to life

And have them thrown into the river!1

This story is about shamanism, which dates from the earliest dawn of history. Practitioners of shamanism, both male and female, were called “lower gods” during the Han dynasty and “ghost-seers” during the Tang dynasty. They were able to enlist the service of ghosts and spirits and foretell weal and woe. Their advice for their clients on preparing for boons and guarding against perils seldom failed to work. Therefore, they gained the trust of lords and dukes, and their service was even required by the imperial palace from time to time. With skills passed on from generation to generation, they were real masters whose accomplishments were by no means fictitious.

However, the way things are with our world, any genuine achievement inevitably gives inspiration to impostors. Men and women who know nothing claim to have spiritual connections to ghosts and spirits and blab nonsense about yin and yang. Even though they accomplish nothing, they make a big splash in the villages with their theatrics. There has never been a lack of such frauds. By this day and age, the authentic art of shamanism has been lost. People of our time are left with lowlifes who call themselves priests and priestesses, claiming to be able to summon gods and ghosts, but who in fact do nothing but beguile the vacant-headed. Chanting gibberish, they pretend that gods are speaking through their mouths, but unable to disentangle themselves from their rustic ways, they come out with vulgar words of their own coinage, trying to pass them off as Mandarin. Members of the upper classes are tickled into repressed laughter, but benighted villagers take them to be bona fide, divinely inspired priests and believe deeply in them. Can there be any divinely inspired priests over the length and breadth of the empire who are unable to speak Mandarin? (MC: If in heaven there are fairies who are illiterate, it follows that on earth there are priests who do not speak Mandarin.)

There is another infuriating thing about such priests: Whenever their services are required for the sick, they would begin by saying that the illness is beyond a cure, but when the patients are reduced to begging them and desperately making all sorts of vows, they extort payment from the patients’ families even if they have to pawn the clothes on their backs and kill animals. Even so, the tearful family members of the sick are still afraid that the wonder-working priests will reject them. When the patients’ conditions worsen and the sacrificial and incense offerings fail to work, the families, rather than blaming the priests and suspecting them of incompetence, reproach themselves for not having done their best to please the priests and, if anything, grow more fervent in making their offerings. Goodness only knows how much money is extorted and how many lives are taken. What the patients get in return for feeding and enriching the deceitful priests is nothing but a great deal of improvised nonsense. The law of the land does contain harsh provisions banning witchcraft and sorcery, but there is at least the implied acknowledgment of “sorcery” as a profession. And yet, the witches and sorcerers of our day run amok, doing things that hardly qualify as “craft.” Nevertheless, their shenanigans, embraced by the benighted, are the order of the day. With no cure for this intractable problem, stories about such cases can only serve to raise a laugh from the wise and the sensible.

In Suzhou, there lived a poor man, Mr. Xia. Envious of the prosperous sorcerers and witches, he apprenticed himself to a tutor, hoping to acquire some real skills. As it turned out, however, he learned nothing to justify the tuition other than some glib rhetoric and a repertoire of secret formulas passed on from generation to generation. After practicing until he could reel them off with ease, he set up his own shop. He had a neighbor, Scholar Fan Ruyu, who was fond of teasing people. Convinced of Mr. Xia’s ineptness, he decided to help the man make a fool of himself at his first public performance. So he said to Xia, tongue in cheek, “The first time you show your divine prowess, you must accomplish something really out of the ordinary to impress the audience. As your neighbor, I feel obliged to help you take everyone’s breath away.”

“What good idea do you have?”

“Tomorrow, when you appear before the audience, I’ll hold a piece of a cake in my fist and ask you to guess what it is I’m holding. You’ll guess correctly on the first try, I’ll burst out in praise of you, and everyone will be impressed.”

“I’m a lucky man indeed if you could be so helpful to me!” said Xia the wizard.

The next day, people came in droves from far and near to see the new wizard summon gods and spirits. When Xia was onstage, gesticulating wildly and making a spectacle of himself, Scholar Fan approached him, holding something in his fist, and asked, “If you can guess what I have in my fist, you’re a real master.”

Smiling cheerfully, Xia announced, “It’s a piece of cake.”

In mock deference, Scholar Fan bowed deeply and exclaimed, “You’re right! How wonderful!” With that, he shoved the object at Xia’s lips. Believing it was cake, Xia readily opened his mouth. To his dismay, it was not cake. It was smelly and hard. He would have spit out the foul-tasting stuff, but afraid that he would thus be exposed as a fraud, he knitted his brow, braced himself, and swallowed.

Scholar Fan waited until Xia had finished eating before crying out, “The great master has just eaten dried dog droppings!” (MC: He is fond of playing pranks on people.)

Members of the audience had been somewhat skeptical when they noticed how painfully Xia had swallowed. At Scholar Fan’s announcement, they realized that Xia had been made fun of. Bursting into peals of laughter, they dispersed and went their separate ways. Word of this debacle spread, and Xia’s business never prospered.

Scholar Fan did the right thing in unmasking the fraud for what he was. The ignorant were ready to embrace the deception, but Mr. Fan, to his credit as a scholar, exposed the hocus-pocus. Otherwise, the audience would have fallen for the trickery.

The story about Scholar Fan in fact pales in comparison to that of a humble man in the Song dynasty who also did not believe in witchcraft and sorcery and reduced two sorcerers to figures of fun.

By the sea, next to Gold Mountain Temple in Huating [in present-day Shanghai], stood a shrine to General Huo Qubing [140–117 BCE] of the Han dynasty. According to local legend, the shrine was built when King Qian Liu [852–932] ruled the Wu and Yue regions after General Huo’s spirit raised a ghost army to aid King Qian.2 On a festive day in the last year of the Chunxi reign period [1174–89], a wizard of the temple assembled people of the county and, with much theatrics, claimed that General Huo had attached his spirit to him and that everyone who prayed to him was to be richly blessed. The local people believed his story and fell all over themselves in the rush to go to the temple, but there was one disbeliever. Shen Hui by name, he was an able servant of Judge Qian of the Court of Judicial Review. As he made facetious and insulting remarks about the wizard, his friends grew afraid that he might offend the deities and exhorted him with many kindly words not to be so disrespectful. The wizard said to him, “The general is wrathful and will soon be bringing calamities on you.”

Defiantly, Shen Hui argued, “Good fortune or ill is decreed by Heaven. How would some general be able to push me around? Even if the general has a spirit, he wouldn’t attach it to the body of a stupid rustic like you to dispense good or bad fortune.” (MC: A servant capable of such remarks is like the servant of He Fanghui.)3

In the midst of this exchange, Shen Hui suddenly collapsed and, drooling, slipped into a coma. Some who had gone with him to the temple ran to his home to report to his family. His wife rushed to the temple, and on seeing the state he was in, she felt certain that her husband had offended the deities. As she bowed to the wizard, asking for mercy, the wizard put on more airs and announced, “It’s now too late to repent and apologize. The general is boiling mad. He has seized your husband’s soul and taken it to Fengdu, capital of the netherworld. He’ll be dead anytime now. It’s too late to try to save him.”

Shen Hui remained in a coma, which could not have pleased the wizard more, and the latter was only too happy to overstate the danger in order to frighten her. Smitten by panic, Mrs. Shen did not know what to do except bow to the statues of the gods and plead with the wizard, but the wizard only launched into a harsher harangue. As she stroked her husband’s body, weeping, the crowd of onlookers swelled. “The gods are merciless!” they warned one another. “They are not to be made fun of !” In the meantime, the wizard grew more zestful in his shenanigans, savoring his victory.

In front of everyone’s eyes, Shen Hui jumped up from the floor. Believing that it was the work of the powerful spirit of the dead, everyone dodged away in alarm. Shen Hui leaped out from among the crowd, seized the wizard, slapped him a few times, and said, “This is what you get for your preposterous lies! Now calm down! How did you manage to see me go to Fengdu, capital of the netherworld?”

His wife asked, “But what happened to you a moment ago?”

Bursting into hearty laughter, Shen Hui replied, “With so many people putting their faith in him, I purposefully put on that show, just to have some fun with him. What a fine ‘divine being’ he is!” (MC: What a delight! How wonderful! A really able servant!)

Mortified, the wizard slunk out of the temple and went into hiding. The crowd dispersed, and from that time onward, the wizard never regained his popularity.

Gentle reader, judging from the above two stories alone, can you find any reason to believe in wizards and sorcerers anymore? Hence the conclusion: Intelligent people who are upright in character do not fall for such frauds. Only the unenlightened and the empty-headed do.

This humble storyteller now proposes to tell a story about how an encounter between a sorcerer with a flair for the dramatic and an uncompromising gentleman led to highly satisfying results. It is a story even more remarkable than the one about Ximen Bao throwing the sorceress into the water. Verily,

Tricksters prey on the gullible;

Victims of scams, beware!

Those believed to be deities on earth

Are fit only to eat dried dog droppings.

As our story goes, during the Huichang reign period [841–46] under Emperor Wu of the Tang dynasty, there was a Di Weiqian, magistrate of Jinyang County and a descendant of the eminent minister Di Renjie, Duke of Liang, who had helped Emperor Zhong regain his rightful place on the Tang throne. An incorruptible official of great moral integrity, Magistrate Di did everything the proper way. He had no fear of the powerful. Even his superiors went out of their way to humor him. On his watch, there was no need to bolt the doors at night throughout Jinyang County and no one pocketed anything that had been lost on the road. Every family was grateful to him, and there were none who did not sing his praises. Unfortunately, natural disasters hit the Jinyang region one after another. In spite of all he did as such a good official, a drought descended on the region and lasted from spring to summer. For four to five months, not a drop of rain fell. Behold:

The parched earth cracks;

Well bottoms gather dust.

What appear to be wisps of smoke

Are in fact shimmering shafts of sunlight.

What feels like breaths of wind

Are in fact columns of steaming heat.

Well pulleys work nonstop,

But all that comes up is half a spoonful of mud.

Waterwheels and bailing buckets stand around,

But no water is to be had.

For all the homage paid to the Dragon King,

Who makes rain over the lakes and seas,

Families now find themselves desperate,

With nothing but the wind to fill their stomachs.

Under the blazing red sun,

No dark clouds are seen over the land.

The drought was so severe that all over the hundreds of li of land in Jinyang County, the fields were parched, the hills were scorched, the tributaries and springs had dried up, the grass and trees withered, and the crop seedlings died. Gripped by anxiety, the county magistrate dismissed his attendants and guards and walked barefoot to and fro in the temple of the city god, praying as he did so, but nothing worked. He fasted and ordered that the slaughtering of animals be banned, incense be offered every day, and prayers be said throughout the night in open air. (MC: When a drought strikes during a good official’s term of office, it is time to wipe out all sorcerers and witches and commend the official’s outstanding governance.) Everything that was supposed to be done during a drought was done.

Here our story takes another tack for a while. In the same prefecture lived a good-for-nothing scoundrel called Guo Saipu. Fascinated with sorcery from an early age, he partnered with a witch from Bingzhou [later Taiyuan Prefecture, in Shanxi]. Known to the public as apprentices to the same master, they were in fact husband and wife. With the two of them teaming up, one leading and the other following, they used their gift of the gab to dupe the locals. Egged on from the outside by the man and from inside the ladies’ boudoirs by the woman, one family after another, even officials’ families, hired them to dispel disasters, cure illnesses, improve marital relations, and, in the cases of jealous wives and concubines, put curses on one another. (MC: Such is the fertile ground in which the abominable practice can prosper!) In short, their various exploits turned the entire Taiyuan Prefecture topsy-turvy. The army supervising commissioner of the prefecture was a eunuch and, like all eunuchs, had great faith in sorcery. When the commissioner was about to make a trip to the capital, Guo Saipu and his female companion wanted to go with the commissioner to try their luck because the imperial court took such unorthodox practices seriously at the time. The commissioner, meaning to raise their status, decided to take them along.

And so they arrived in the capital, a city where a motley assortment of people made their home. It was an ideal place for lawbreakers to hide and for all manner of heresies to flourish. As the two of them distributed charms and cast spells to cure illnesses and exorcise demons, news about whatever little success they happened to achieve spread far and wide by word of mouth. (MC: They must know a thing or two to be able to impress people like this.) The word was that they were miracle workers, indeed, nothing short of two divine beings now gracing the capital with their presence. To those who asked to see them, they repeated the grand overstatements in circulation about themselves and boasted about their divine prowess in the most graphic terms. With the two trying to outdo each other in eloquence, anyone with a modicum of faith in ghosts and spirits—even men of intelligence and good character—would walk willingly into their trap, the only exceptions being men of high principle who were not susceptible to cajolery.

What with their spreading fame and the commissioner’s glorification of them to all the offices of the Palace Domestic Service, the two of them began to associate frequently with the eunuchs, and the witch gained access to the living quarters of the imperial consorts, who amply rewarded her. At the eunuchs’ urging, the emperor granted both of them the title Heavenly Preceptor. (MC: So much for the Tang government!) In fact, the Daoist arts were hugely popular during the Tang dynasty, and granting priests purple robes and the Heavenly Preceptor title was hardly a rarity. The recipients of such favors were not assigned positions in government offices, nor did the title carry much weight other than that it impressed local communities. Having gained this title, Guo Saipu thought it time to go back to his home village and impress the locals. And so he returned to Taiyuan with the witch. There, everyone, of all ages and social classes, respectfully addressed them as “Heavenly Preceptor.” Putting on portentous airs, they were now in vastly different circumstances than before their trip to the capital.

Let us return to the severe drought in Jinyang. In desperation, Magistrate Di had posters put up: “The county yamen will substantially reward anyone—official, clerk, soldier, or civilian—who can call up rain clouds.”

As soon as the posters were up, a group of elders led some followers to the county yamen and said to the magistrate, “Heavenly Preceptor Guo of this prefecture has magic skills that are known even in the capital, and the emperor has bestowed favors on him. If he could be invited to our county temple to pray for rain, our problem will be solved as easily as turning over a hand. Our only worry is that, with his exalted status, he won’t deign to accept an invitation from the likes of us. It falls to you, sir, to invite him, in all sincerity, to come and save the people. Only then will the people of this county get a new lease on life.”

Magistrate Di said, “If his skills do work, I’ll of course humble myself and beg him to come. I’m only afraid that the likes of him are the treacherous sort who build up reputations for themselves without doing anything to deserve them. If he indeed gained fame under false pretenses and puts on high-and-mighty airs, inviting him here will only cause trouble rather than do us any good. (MC: He is right.) It would be better to look for real masters of the Daoist arts in our own locality. Who’s to say that none can be found? Those who do come forward in response to our call will surely be much better than one with a hollow reputation. I haven’t ventured to pay him my respects because I didn’t want to set a bad precedent.”

One of the elders insisted, “You’re right, Your Honor, but there can’t be any fame without substance. You can’t very well turn away the celebrated Heavenly Preceptors endorsed by the court and admired by the populace and look farther afield for some other master. It will be a case of ‘Ignoring the bronze bell right in front of you and going to the smeltery to start from scratch.’ If you’re worried about the funding, the villagers are ready to pay assessments. If Your Honor can invite the Heavenly Preceptors here, it will be an act of boundless kindness.”

“If that’s what you’re determined to do,” said the magistrate, “I have nothing more to worry about.”

Right away, the magistrate ordered that artificial flowers and bolts of silk be prepared. He then wrote a letter of invitation and sent an able clerk to deliver it on his behalf. After the clerk was led into Guo Saipu’s presence and stated the purpose of his visit, the Heavenly Preceptor arrogantly asked, “So you want a prayer for rain?”

The visitors kowtowed and said, “Yes, exactly.”

Smiling, the Heavenly Preceptor said, “A drought is a manifestation of Heavenly will. It must be Heaven’s punishment for the grave sins committed by the people in these parts and the immorality of corrupt county officials. My job is to enforce justice on behalf of Heaven. How could I go against the will of Heaven and pray for rain on your behalf ?” (MC: Finding an excuse in advance for his failure to invoke rain.)

The visitors again kowtowed and said, “Our county magistrate is a very clean and incorrupt official. It pains his heart to witness heaven’s punishment for the local people’s sins, which is why, in admiration of your fame, he extends an invitation to you and offers these gifts, oh mighty one, begging you to go to our county and pray for rain. Please don’t decline. The entire local population will be ever so grateful to you.”

Breaking into another smile, the Heavenly Preceptor said, “I’m not one to lightly accept any invitation from a tiny county like yours.” Over and over again, he declined the invitation.

After the official returned and reported as much to the county magistrate, the village elders and others burst out crying and pleaded, “Now that the Heavenly Preceptor refuses to come, we’re all doomed to die. Your Honor, please extend another invitation and make sure that he comes here!” (MC: The benighted are hopeless.)

In resignation, the county magistrate added more gifts, picked another clerk, and wrote a letter of invitation in a more earnest tone, as well as a letter to the military governor of the prefecture suggesting that an invitation from the governor would surely work. Moved by the county magistrate’s sincerity, the military governor decided to personally pay the Heavenly Preceptor a visit and plead with him.

The governor’s visit made the Heavenly Preceptor feel obliged to accept the invitation, whereupon the delegation from the county burst into earth-shaking cries of joy. They would have offered themselves in order to attain this result. The Heavenly Preceptor ordered that two sedan-chairs be prepared—one for a male passenger and the other for a female passenger—so that the witch could go with him. The county magistrate’s representative and the village elders eagerly obeyed and hired two fancy sedan-chairs, one for him and one for the witch. As the two lavishly decorated sedan-chairs were carried along, complete with incense burners, brightly lit candles, banners, and canopies, the procession looked as if it was grand enough for two living Buddhas.

Upon its arrival on the border of Jinyang County, Magistrate Di went forward to salute the distinguished guests. After the two Heavenly Preceptors stepped out of the sedan-chairs and exchanged greetings with the magistrate, the latter put artificial flowers, red bunting, and pieces of colorful fabric on them and asked each of them to mount a horse. With the magistrate leading the horses and a band of percussion musicians at the head of the procession, the two guests were taken to the temple. (MC: Such undeserved respect would ruin what little fortune might have been allotted to a good-for-nothing scoundrel and a village woman. How could they not fail?)

After a sumptuous feast was served, the two guests were taken to nice rooms in the inner section of the temple, along with their luggage. The magistrate bade them good-bye and departed, to await the demonstration of their prowess the next day. Of him, no more for now.

Once they were left alone, Guo Saipu said to the witch, “The people of this county are sincere in their wish for us to pray for rain, and they’ve shown us such ceremony. We couldn’t have done otherwise. Now everyone in this county, from officials to villagers, is desperately hoping for rain. If, by a stroke of luck, it rains after we put on our show, everything will be all right. But if we’re not so fortunate, how are we going to get these people off our hands?”

The witch said, “Haven’t you been playing these tricks for years now? Don’t you know better than to worry about such a trifle? Tomorrow, let’s set the rain date far into the future. An extended dry spell will surely be followed by some rain. Even if it’s just a few drops, the credit goes to us. In case it still doesn’t rain, let’s just lay the blame on them for one thing or another. When their patience runs out, we’ll throw a tantrum and insist on leaving. By that time, they’ll feel sorry for having ruffled our feathers and failing to keep us, and they’ll be in too much of a frenzy to badmouth us.” (MC: The witch is even more of a crafty scoundrel.)

“Good idea!” conceded Guo. “They have such respect for us that I don’t think they’ll see through us. (MC: This is what emboldens him.) Let’s just brazen it out.” And so they settled on what to do.

The next day, the county magistrate went to the temple for the prayer service. Guo ordered that a small altar be set up in the temple. In front of the statue of the city god, the two sorcerers put their tongues to work, jabbering strings of balderdash. Then they mounted the altar, with Guo banging the tablets and the witch beating a nine-ring leather drum. After burning quite a few charms, Guo looked all around from his elevated position and saw faint signs of clouds in a northeasterly direction. He thought, “As the saying goes, ‘A north wind goes before a summer rain.’ Maybe rain is coming in a few days. Let me announce this in order to win their appreciation.”

So he stepped down from the altar and announced to the magistrate, “I sent my charms up to the Upper Realm to request rain, and the Lord on High has replied, saying that as long as you’re all profoundly sincere, rain will come in three days.”

When this announcement was spread around, tens of thousands of the people of the region jumped up and down for joy. Officials and commoners from all around the county gathered together to wait for the rain.

Three days went by amid eager expectations, but it was obvious to everyone that the weather was drier than ever.

With the sun blazing overhead

And not a puff of cloud in the sky,

Happy locusts ride on the waves of heat;

Fish and turtles fidget in hot-water ponds.

The air is hardly stirred by any breeze;

The flags and banners stay straight and stiff.

Without even a drop of rain,

Wails of grief fill the air.

The county magistrate and several villagers approached the Heavenly Preceptors and said to them, “The three days are over. Why is there still no sign of rain?”

Guo replied, “Droughts do not occur without reason, and the reason in this case is the immoral conduct of the county magistrate. That’s why the Lord on High still does nothing, but I’m going to pray hard for you again.”

Feeling apologetic on hearing this remark about his supposedly immoral conduct, the magistrate said, “Any retribution should be visited on me, and me alone, for my faults. Why plunge so many people into this misery? Please do intercede for the people! I’d rather sacrifice any luck I have in exchange for rain, to relieve the misery of the people. I’ll be ever so grateful to you.”

Guo said, “A drought is the work of the drought demons. I’ll pray for rain while I hunt them down. I guarantee that you’ll see rain in seven days.” (MC: Coming up with another money-extorting idea.)

“There is indeed mention of drought demons in The Book of Songs and The Book of History,” said the magistrate. “But how are you going to hunt them down?”

“They must be in some village. You just leave the search to me.”

“How nice if they can indeed be found so that rain will follow! I leave it to you.”

Thereupon, Guo told the witch to go to the villages and search for the drought demons. Whenever she saw a woman far along in pregnancy, she would declare that the woman was carrying a drought demon and therefore must take medicine for an abortion. Panic began to spread through the villages. Since a woman was not denied access to any home, the witch inserted herself into the inner quarters of every house. As a result, no family could hide a pregnancy from her. Rich families saw no alternative but to buy her silence with money so as to avoid scandal. Thus greatly enriched, the witch brought a few poverty-stricken women to the county yamen and, accusing them of being mothers of drought demons, poured water over them. Knowing all too well that this was nothing but nonsense, the county magistrate nevertheless chose not to give voice to his anger and instead humored her in every way. The seven-day deadline came and went, but not a drop of rain fell in response to all the shenanigans, as this poem attests:

Drought demons in human fetuses?

This was surely nothing but a scam.

The magistrate was to dispense with the usual practice

And bring thunderbolts cracking overhead.

More than ten days elapsed in like manner. Heaven did not cooperate. If there had been even a light sprinkle of rain, the two sorcerers would have taken credit for it and, flaunting their prowess, proudly accepted their rewards. However, as it was, there was not even a thunderclap to herald the coming of rain. Feeling quite awkward, the two defended themselves by saying, “This area is simply not meant to have rain. It serves no purpose for us to remain here.” (MC: A clever excuse.)

As they began to put their things together in preparation for their return home, the benighted villagers cried out frantically, “No rain comes while the Heavenly Preceptors are here. After they’re gone, there will be even less chance of rain! (MC: The benighted will always remain benighted.) Can it be that the people in these parts are doomed to die?”

They went in droves to see the county magistrate and pleaded with him to keep the Heavenly Preceptors. Being an official who cared deeply about the people, the county magistrate followed their wishes and implored the sorcerers to stay. (MC: If the magistrate had pleaded because he had been as benighted as the villagers, there would be nothing remarkable about him. The fact that he knew the Heavenly Preceptors were frauds yet stooped in submission to them on behalf of the people sets him apart as a worthy man.) He said, “Since Your Reverences already took the trouble of coming here for the sake of the local population, I beg you to make an extra effort and pray for a response from heaven so as to bring relief to the affected population. You must not go and let all your efforts come to naught.”

With the magistrate politely pleading and the villagers desperately begging him, Guo was at a loss for words. He thought, “If I don’t put on a stern face, how am I going to shake these people off ?” His face darkening, he lashed out at the magistrate, “You’re an incompetent official ignorant of the way of Heaven. It’s your incompetence that dooms this area to destruction. When it’s just not the right time for rain, what’s the use of keeping me here?”

The magistrate did not think it proper to answer back. Instead, he said, “Heaven will surely punish me for my sins. I wouldn’t dare impose on you further. But since Your Reverences have taken the trouble to come here, we have at least the obligation to set out a thank-you banquet tomorrow. So please do us the honor of staying for one more night.”

Only then did the Heavenly Preceptor’s expression soften. “But tomorrow will definitely be our last day here,” said he.

The magistrate took leave of him and, on returning to the county yamen, assembled the yamen employees and said to them, “As for these crafty characters, I know only too well that their theatrics will get us nowhere but the ignorant, gullible villagers would blame me for not submitting to their will and therefore blocking the rain. Now, I’ve shown the utmost humility to them and pleaded with them with the utmost sincerity. Indeed, there were no lengths to which I wouldn’t go. This is the best I can manage. Instead of blaming themselves for their heretic ways, he hurled insults at me. As a humble official thus humiliated by a sorcerer, I can hardly hold my head up again in my future career. Tomorrow, you must all support me when I give you instructions as to what to do. I’ll be solely responsible for whatever happens. Don’t hesitate or act too slowly.”

The magistrate, in his dignity and authority, had always impressed everyone at the yamen with his benevolent rule. How could anyone disobey him? They all acknowledged the order before they dispersed.

Before the yamen gate was opened the next morning, word came that the Heavenly Preceptors were busily preparing their horses for their return journey and urging the yamen to get ready to send them off. (MC: Retreat is the best strategy.) The administrative assistant asked the magistrate, “Is the send-off banquet to be set in the yamen or in the temple? I need to start preparations well in advance so I won’t have to rush things.”

The magistrate responded, with an icy smile, “Why would we need to rush things?”

He told the employees to follow him into the temple to bid farewell to the Heavenly Preceptors. The followers were skeptical, thinking, “Nothing has been done to prepare the banquet. How are we going to bid farewell to them?”

In the meantime, in the temple, Heavenly Preceptor Guo was also wondering whether the farewell banquet was to be set out in the county yamen or the temple. Without a sign of anything astir, the Heavenly Preceptor was losing patience. Breaking out in a fury, he said, “With such a disrespectful man as the county magistrate, how will there be any rain?”

In the twinkling of an eye, the magistrate arrived at the temple. Giving him a withering look, Guo cried out, with the witch giving vocal support, “We’re ready to go. Why hold us up like this for no good reason? Why don’t you get on quickly with the send-off banquet?”

The magistrate’s face hardened. “You’ve got your nerve, you scoundrels!” he roared. “You sorcerers have been playing your tricks long enough! Now that you’ve delivered yourselves into my hands, today is the day you die! How dare you even talk about returning? Officers! Seize those two!”

Would any yamen employee refuse to carry out his order? They thundered their acknowledgment and, with the speed of an eagle snatching a sparrow, clapped iron chains around the necks of the two sorcerers and overpowered them.

Turning to the statue of the city god, the magistrate said, “Those two filthy sorcerers have been playing tricks on ignorant people and blaspheming the gods. I hereby ask for permission to eliminate them on behalf of the gods.” He ordered that the two culprits be made to kneel before the statue of the city god and said, “I’ll send you off now!” (MC: This exciting moment calls for torrential rain.)

Both culprits were given thirty strokes of the whip on the back. Their skin split, their flesh ripped, and their blood splashed across the floor. Then they were trussed up and dumped into the pond in front of the temple. How bizarre that Guo Saipu and the witch of Bingzhou, after a lifetime of evil doings, died such violent deaths on this day!

The unyielding magistrate held his ground;

The sorcerers were proved to be frauds.

The gods ignored them when they were beaten;

Water jars that stay by the well break by the well.

All turned pale as they witnessed County Magistrate Di kill two Heavenly Preceptors within such a short space of time. An older and wiser county employee went up to the magistrate and said, “Your Honor did the right thing in eliminating the two swindlers. However, the title Heavenly Preceptor was bestowed by the imperial court. What’s to be done if reproaches come from the upper authorities and the imperial court?”

The magistrate replied, “Although those two had no roots, they knew how to maneuver their way into power. To keep them would be to perpetuate the bad blood and fall victim to them. With the two of them dead and gone, it will be as if the fleabanes are blown away and the stalks are broken. No kith or kin of theirs will rise to defend them. Even if the imperial court holds me accountable for the unauthorized executions, the worst-case scenario will be my dismissal from office. Nothing more than that.” Everyone present humbly voiced agreement in admiration of his courage. (MC: It’s more than courage. It’s great insight.)

The magistrate then said to himself, “Now that I’ve gotten rid of the Heavenly Preceptors, ignorant people will lay the blame at my door and accuse me of offending the gods if rain still doesn’t fall. I do believe in spiritual connections between mortal beings and the gods. It’s just that those ridiculous and vulgar characters were in no position to move the gods to pity. If a respectable county magistrate pleads to the gods on behalf of the people, his sincerity will surely be appreciated.” So thinking, he kowtowed to the statues of the gods and prayed piously, “I’ve eliminated those scoundrels with their dirty tricks, lies, and blasphemies against the gods. If the gods don’t grant rain to black magicians, they must be reserving their favors for the upright and the virtuous. If there’s still no response forthcoming, I can only conclude that the gods have failed to distinguish between the good and the evil. If indeed I’m to blame for my misdeeds, the responsibility rests with me alone. The local population should be spared such severe punishment. With these kowtows to ye gods, I, Weiqian, vow from the bottom of my heart that I’ll expose myself to the scorching sun on top of the hill behind the temple and stand there without rest until it rains, even if I die from the heat.” (MC: This is the same spirit showed by the Foolish Old Man who tried to remove the mountains and the Jingwei bird that tried to fill up the sea with pebbles.) Having said that, he kowtowed again and departed.

The hill behind the temple was about a hundred feet high. The magistrate lost no time in ordering that a mat be prepared and incense lit. He then donned his official’s headgear and robe and stood on the mat, holding his memorandum tablet in hand. (IC: Quite a sight!) He ordered his followers to leave him and await further instructions.

When they heard about what the magistrate had done, people throughout the county were appalled. Some said, “How could he have killed the Heavenly Preceptors? The Heavenly Preceptors can’t have died. The magistrate’s violent act will surely lead to extraordinary disasters. What’s to be done?” Others said, “The magistrate is standing on the hill behind the temple to pray to Heaven.”

As the news spread, everyone rushed to the spot to view the sight. As a wall of humanity took shape, the strangest thing happened. Indeed, it was a case of sincerity bringing about a spiritual connection. When the magistrate had just reached the top of the hill, the sun was beating down in all its fury, searing the sand and stones, but as soon as he gained a firm foothold, a black cloud the size of a carriage canopy appeared over his head, completely blocking the sun all around him. Gradually, more dark clouds moved in to merge with the first one. After several thunderclaps, a heavy rain came down in sheets. Behold:

A thousand hills disappear from view;

Everything is shrouded in a thick haze.

The splashing drops of rain fly about

Like dragons dancing in the air.

The wind howls wildly in fury

Like ten thousand horses galloping from afar.

Streaks of lightning flicker across the sky;

Thunderclaps growl like drumbeats.

The pelting rain enraptures the farmers;

The roar of thunder strikes fear into evil hearts.

The rain lasted for more than two hours, until the ditches overflowed and the fields were waterlogged. Everyone clapped and whooped for joy, grateful for the pains the magistrate had taken for them. Thousands of people climbed up and escorted the magistrate down the hill, shielding him from the rain with their own clothes. All along the way, bedraggled women, children, and the elderly kowtowed to him and sang his praises. Feeling a little apologetic, Magistrate Di said, “Please don’t do this! This is all the work of Heaven. I had nothing to do with it!”

The more benighted among the crowd, knowing nothing about the importance of sincerity in the spiritual connection with Heaven, transferred their pious worship of the Heavenly Preceptors to the magistrate after learning that he had killed the Heavenly Preceptors and invoked rain, showing greater divine prowess than the Heavenly Preceptors. (MC: That is why the ancient sages invoke the gods in their preaching.)

After arriving at the county yamen, the magistrate told the crowd to disperse. Then he collected data on the volume of rainfall in all the communities of the county and gave the report to higher authorities.

In the meantime, the military governor of the prefecture had heard that the county magistrate had killed the sorcerers and faulted him for his recklessness. Since the sorcerers had been invited with proper etiquette, they certainly did not deserve death, even if they failed to bring rain. Wasn’t the magistrate guilty of killing the innocent just because their prayers for rain had been ineffective? However, by the time the report, with its data on the bountiful rainfall, was delivered, letters from people in the county came pouring in, extolling the magistrate’s many virtues, including his standing under the merciless sun while he prayed for rain. It was only then that the military governor realized, sighing deeply in admiration, that the magistrate was a man of honor with extraordinary achievements to his credit. The governor had a mind to commend him, but afraid that the imperial court would reproach him for the beating deaths of the two sorcerers, he felt obliged to write a memorial to the court to state the facts. The gist of his memorial is as follows:

Sorcerer Guo and his accomplice used black magic to hoodwink the public. Whatever titles were bestowed on them had been obtained under false pretenses. They were guilty of blasphemies against the gods, harming the people, and bullying the county magistrate. The magistrate did not go too far when he eliminated the two sorcerers for the benefit of the public. With enough strength to eliminate the evil, and enough sincerity to move Heaven, Magistrate Di achieved extraordinary results by exposing himself to the harshness of the elements in order to bring on rain. Such a capable official serving the imperial court deserves the highest honors.

At that time, military governors of strategically positioned outlying prefectures were very powerful, so the imperial court deemed it prudent not to contradict the governor’s recommendation. Moreover, Guo Saipu and his accomplice had been undocumented riffraff in the first place. After they flaunted their ill-gotten imperial favor in the capital for a time and left for the countryside, they were gradually forgotten. As they had no supporters or close friends in the capital to be concerned about them, no one felt sorry about their deaths. The killing of two Heavenly Preceptors was thus looked on as nothing more than the killing of two commoners, just as Magistrate Di had predicted.

Jinyang being the northern capital of the empire at the time, the fame of Magistrate Di quickly spread through the court and beyond. Everyone admired his moral character. Before long, an imperial decree was issued in recognition of his virtues:

Di Weiqian, a good county magistrate, a loyal subject, and an outstanding descendant of Lord Di Renjie, prayed at the Jinyang Temple and eliminated sorcerers the way Ximen Bao had done in Ye County, in order to relieve the drought that inflicted misery on the local populace. By stationing himself on a hilltop under the harsh sun, he was doing no less than letting himself die from the heat. In praying for rain clouds, he did not hesitate to put himself in harm’s way in the manner of King Tang, whereupon the drought abated and sweet rain fell.4 Since Heaven was moved by his piety, how can We neglect to commend him for his virtues? Mr. Di is hereby awarded a vermilion robe and a copper official seal. This commendation is issued for the purpose of making his reputation last and his extraordinary achievements widely known.

An award of five hundred thousand cash was forthwith granted to the magistrate by way of acknowledging his merit. Henceforth, Magistrate Di gained fame as an official of the Tang dynasty. Later, after he was promoted and left the county, the local people built a shrine dedicated to him, out of gratitude for him, although he was still alive. The shrine has never been short of worshippers, and prayers for sunshine or rain have never failed to be effective. (MC: How does it compare to those shrines dedicated to people still living today?) All this is attributable to the magistrate’s moral integrity. It can thus be seen that good defeats evil after all. Goodness only knows when the souls of those sorcerers with their theatrics will find redemption after their drowning deaths! Those who worship sorcerers are advised to read and reread this story. There is a poem in testimony:

All say sorcerers work wonders.

Why did these two not rise again from the water?

Consider how rain came in this story,

And you will see that sincerity is divine.