40

On the Huayin Trail, Li Meets One Extraordinary Man

The Jiangling Commander Opens Three Mysterious Envelopes

A poem says,

Everything in life is predestined;

Nothing, least of all fame, should be sought if it is not your fate.

Any number of heroes stayed in oblivion

Because no one directed them to the right way.

As they say, of all things in life, success or failure on the civil service examinations is the most mysterious secret and the least predictable. As the ancients put it, “One may have the talent but not the luck.” However gifted you are in literary composition, if fate is against you, you will lose to a child or a vegetable peddler on the exams. A case in point: In the Tang dynasty, poetic talent was an important qualification for service as a government official, and yet, of Li Bai [701–762], Du Fu [712–770], Wang Wei [701–761], and Meng Haoran [689–740], poets of eternal fame, Li and Du failed the exams at the national level and Meng Haoran never even won appointment to an official post. Wang Wei was the only one who passed the exams, and it was all thanks to Prince Qi, who introduced him to the Ninth Princess. Delighted with his new song “Yulunpao,” the princess put him at the top of the list of recommended candidates. Those who did not cultivate the favor of higher-ups had no assurance of success. If such was the case with those four giants, how much more so would it be for other people? As for inferior poems that have been consigned to oblivion, a great deal of them were authored by those who passed the examinations. Gentle reader, wouldn’t you agree that there is no justification for such a state of affairs? Hence the following two lines:

There have never been rules for grading papers;

Just watch to see if that man in red gives you the nod.1

Storyteller, the way you put it, there is no need to labor at one’s studies since everything is determined by fate.

Gentle reader, that is not the way to look at things. As another saying goes, “It is for man to strive and for Heaven to decide.” Luck goes to those who try. It is common sense that those who work hard succeed more easily in the long run. Hence the saying “Heaven helps those who help themselves.” After all, in most cases, where water flows, a channel is formed. However, ghosts and spirits do wreak havoc on the civil service examinations. For the lucky ones, good timing goes with good fortune. For the luckless, everything can go terribly wrong. Isn’t this a scary thought? This humble storyteller now proposes to relate a few anecdotes about the examinations by way of a prologue to our story proper.

[Anecdote 1:] A candidate destined to pass the exams runs into someone who lends a helping hand. In the Huguang region [present-day Hubei and Hunan], there lived a Scholar He, a provincial graduate who had passed the civil service examinations at the provincial level. While in the capital to sit for the national-level examinations, he chanced to step into a wineshop, where he saw a group of men wearing black robes and large hats drinking inside. They talked in language that was half-elegant and half-vulgar, and they looked pseudo-cultured touched with a roguish air. (MC: A true-to-life portrayal of minor government officials.) Scholar He took a table and began to drink by himself. Assuming that he was feeling lonely, those men asked him to join their table. Scholar He accepted the invitation and, in an accommodating way, joined them in their merrymaking. Delighted that the scholar put on no airs and was accessible and easy to get along with, the men enjoyed the time spent with him. After the meal was over, they all went their separate ways.

A few days later, when walking down the streets of Chang’an, Scholar He saw a drunken man lying by the roadside, his clothes and hat soiled and grimy. (MC: A common sight on the streets of Chang’an.) Upon a closer look, Scholar He recognized him as one of the men with whom he had shared a table in the wineshop the other day. Being of a kindly disposition, the scholar was saddened by the man’s sorry state and went to raise him up. Coming out of his drunken stupor, the man opened his eyes and, at the sight of Scholar He helping him up, tapped the scholar’s arm and said with a laugh, “Sir, you’re in luck!” With that, he took out of his sleeve a sash that was wrapped around a small envelope the size of two fingers. “Go to your lodging and read it,” said he to Scholar He.

Not knowing what he meant by that, Scholar He slipped the sash into his sleeve and went back to the inn where he was lodging. There were quite a few fellow exam candidates stopping at the same inn. Thinking that there was no secret involved, Scholar He unconcernedly opened the envelope in front of the others. Lo and behold! It was a list of fourteen essay topics, six on the Four Books and eight on the Five Classics.2 His fellow lodgers asked him, “Where did you get this?”

After telling them about his encounter with a group of men in a wineshop the other day and with one of them on the street some moments earlier, Scholar He went on to say, “This was given to me by that man. I have no idea how he got hold of it.”

“This must be a scam. Don’t believe him!” (MC: Those who choose not to believe the man are too lazy to write so many essays in advance.)

Of all the lodgers present, only a Mr. An thought, “So what if it’s a scam? It would be a good thing if we could prepare the essays in advance.” And so, by mutual agreement, he and Scholar He each wrote one essay per topic. Then they searched the bookshops for fine essays on these topics and, using them as a reference, polished their own works.

As it turned out, seven of the fourteen topics appeared on the examination. Since He and An had written their essays in advance, both passed. As a matter of fact, the drunkard was secretary to the chief examiner, and he had copied the topics—half of which were alternates—from the chief examiner’s office. Delighted that Scholar He was helping him sit up in his drunken state, he had offered the list to the scholar. As chance had it, Mr. An also benefited. As for those fellow lodgers who didn’t believe in the list, they passed up the opportunity, as their fates dictated.

The drunkard was but a mortal,

But the revelation was made by divine will.

Those who believed and those who did not

Henceforth went their vastly different ways.

[Anecdote 2:] A candidate destined to pass the exams runs into a ghost who lends a helping hand. A scholar from Xinghua County, Yangzhou Prefecture, went to Yingtian [present-day Nanjing] to sit for the examinations at the provincial level. He slept straight through the first day of the examinations. By the time a warden woke him, a whole day had gone by. In a panic, he went to the outhouse and saw that another exam candidate was already there.

The candidate asked our scholar from Xinghua, “Have you finished your essays?”

“No. I slept through the session and didn’t write a single word. I suddenly felt the urge to go and couldn’t hold it any longer’, so here I am!”

“Well, I’ve finished my essays and have written them down on scratch paper. I’m too sick to go back to my booth to copy them onto the exam paper. Since you haven’t written yours, I’ll give you mine. If you pass, you can give me a hundred taels of silver by way of thanks.”

Our candidate from Xinghua was beside himself with joy. The sick candidate handed a large sheet of scratch paper to him, on which, sure enough, were seven complete essays. The sick candidate said, “I’m So-and-So from the Yingtian Prefectural School, but I live in a remote village. I have a nephew who makes a living in Yingtian as a firewood dealer. If you go see him, he’ll take you to my home.”

Thus advised, the scholar from Xinghua took the paper to his own booth on the examination grounds and made a clean copy of the draft, thus completing the required writing assignments. After all three sessions of the examinations were over and his name appeared on the list of successful candidates, he immediately took one hundred taels of silver and went to see the firewood dealer to get his uncle’s address. The dealer said, “I do have an uncle who sat for the last round of exams, but he died of dysentery on the exam grounds. (MC: Can someone in the throes of dysentery come up with fine essays? This goes to show that those who pass the exams may not be the finest scholars.) I certainly don’t have another uncle who sat for this year’s exams.”

Our Xinghua candidate was appalled. He realized that it was a ghost who had helped him. He had the dealer take him to the dead man’s home and offered his impoverished family the promised hundred taels of silver. A hundred taels of silver being something beyond their wildest dreams, the entire family rejoiced, and the scholar found solace in the thought that his money had bought him a place on the list of successful candidates.

His literary talent did not die with him;

The ghost from the last exam helped a newcomer.

[Anecdote 3:] A candidate destined to pass the exams gets help from a deity through a human hand. In Ningbo, two young men were studying in the Asoka Temple by Lake Mirror, one frivolous but clever and the other dull but sincere. The dull one was a Buddhist. Every morning and evening, he offered incense at the foot of the statue of the Buddha and prayed that the Buddha would show him the seven topics of the examination essays. (IC: What a fool!) Witnessing his ceaseless kowtows, the clever one laughed at his foolishness and decided to play a prank on him. He thought up seven topics, used a lit incense stick to burn the characters into a large piece of paper, and hid the paper under the altar. The next morning, the dull one saw it when he prayed to the Buddha and was greatly impressed that the Buddha had indeed transmitted the secret to him in such a wondrous way. He collected all available good essays on these topics from all over town, including essays written by outstanding classmates as homework, produced seven nice essays, and committed them to memory. The clever one, rightly surmising from these activities that the dull one was taking the topics seriously, secretly laughed at his being “tricked by a ghost.” (MC: Secretly laughing at him is quite justifiable.) Who would have thought that these seven topics would turn out to be exactly the ones given out at the examination! Without a single pause, the dull one completed the essays and passed. Didn’t the Buddha hand the topics to him through the help of that frivolous but clever one?

The dull one prayed in all sincerity;

The clever one was put to good use.

The ghosts and the deities

Brilliantly play their little tricks.

[Anecdote 4:] A candidate who was destined to pass the examinations is helped by his own spirit. One examination day in Huguang, one of the examiners was grading the papers on the examination grounds when he felt tired and dozed off. While in this drowsy state, he heard a sigh right by his ear, followed by the comment, “Such grinding poverty! Oh, to be lifted from poverty!” He woke up with a start and, after a moment of reflection, concluded that some candidate who was destined to pass must have been playing a prank on him. He listened more intently and realized that the voice was coming from one of the boxes that contained exam papers. Each time he took a paper from it, the voice whispered into his ear, “No, not this one.” And so it went until he came to the last paper. “This is it!” said the voice. The examiner read it and found that the essays were indeed well written. As soon as he gave the candidate a passing mark, the voice stopped. After the results of the examinations were announced, the candidate went to see the examiner.

“Did you have any extraordinary experiences after the exams?” asked the examiner.

“No.”

“But something quite strange happened during the exams. Do you have any pet phrases that you keep repeating?

“I’m so poor that each time I finish a writing assignment by my window, I cry, ‘Such grinding poverty! Oh, to be lifted from poverty!’ (MC: But most other such manifestations of spirits don’t work. Why?) These are the only things I often repeat over and over.”

When the examiner told him about what he had heard while grading the papers, both marveled at the mystery. Even the candidate himself could not figure out what could have happened. Wasn’t that a manifestation of his spirit and his tenaciousness?

Sincerity opens all doors;

Courage moves the deities.

[Anecdote 5:] A candidate who was destined to pass the exams is helped by spiritual beings and two mortals who happen to work in cooperation. In the Zhejiang region, there lived a well-learned scholar who had, from his early youth, sat for the examinations quite a few times, but he failed each time. His last attempt was made when he was already well along in years and no longer counting on success. Since there was this chance to take the exams, he wanted to convince himself that at least he had tried. On the eve of the first day of the examinations, he had a dream in which a man said to him, “You’ll surely pass this year’s exams, but you must not write even one character on the exam paper. If you do, you’ll fail. Just hand in a blank sheet of paper.”

When he woke up, the scholar said to himself, “What a strange dream! This is unbelievable!” And so he thought nothing of it.

After he went to the examination grounds and received the examination paper, he was about to set his thoughts to paper when he heard that voice again, saying, “No! You must not write anything!”

“How very strange!” he said to himself. As he gave thought to the topics, he felt hot in the head, and no words came to mind. In frustration, he thought, “This must mean that I’m going to fail again.” Gloomily, he drifted off to sleep.

Whom should he see at this point but his grandfather and his father! They told him, “Be sure not to write even one character! We’ll guarantee your success on the exam.” (MC: This is to say that anything committed to paper means failure.)

On waking up, he sighed and said to himself, “What’s going on? With dreams and ghosts tormenting me like this, it’s impossible for me to produce anything worthy. Why should I go on feeling miserable? I might just as well give up, hand in the blank sheet of paper, and clear out of the place!”

After he left the examination grounds, he assumed that his name would top the list of candidates to be denied admission to the second session of the exams. And yet, when the gate of the examination grounds was opened and the list of failing candidates was posted, he did not see his name on it, although it was a long list, with descriptions of all manner of reasons for failing: incompleteness, missing sheets of examination paper, deviation from the topics, and so on. There was no mention of blank sheets of exam paper. Indulging in a roar of laughter, he said, “The examination sealers and graders must have lost their mental faculties!”3

After another two days went by without anything being amiss, he followed other candidates to the examination grounds for the second session, just to have some fun, since his name was not on that list and no one was any the wiser. The moment he picked up his writing brush, the voice in his ear started up again. Cheerfully, he said in response, “You need not say another word. Since I handed in a blank paper at the first session, what’s the good of writing anything at the second session? No one can be that stupid in the whole wide world.” He made a show of occupying himself with the exam, and after a decent amount of time went by, he handed in his blank paper and exited the grounds, thinking that he would not be spared this time.

To his surprise, his name was again absent from the long list of failing candidates at the second session. And again, he followed other candidates to the examination grounds for the third session and, needless to say, again handed in a blank paper. Now that he had gone through all three sessions of the exams, his friends flocked to him to ask for his advice on literary composition. He could only laugh into his sleeve and refrained from coming out with the truth.

When the successful candidates’ names were announced, amazingly enough, his name was high on the list. (MC: The height of absurdity.) With no idea of what could have happened, he thought he was in a dream. The pomp and circumstance of the banquet in honor of the successful candidates filled him with delight at this unsought good fortune. When he was given back his examination papers, he saw that the papers for all three sessions were filled with beautiful essays. He stood transfixed, his eyes unblinking, his mouth hanging open. He was totally at sea.

What had happened was that the two examination sealers responsible for checking the identities of candidates were county magistrates with jinshi degrees. Both had passed the national-level examinations at a young age and were men of fine sensibilities. Resentful that they were not assigned as graders, they itched to show off their literary prowess at the sight of the essay topics and wanted to write something just to see if they could still pass. The only problem was that there were no blank sheets of exam paper available that bore the government stamp. Some candidates handed in their papers without finishing their essays, but the partially filled papers were of no use to the two examiners. Imagine their joy when they laid hands on the completely blank sheets of paper! They committed the examinee’s name to memory and began to compose one essay after another, consulting each other and polishing each other’s work until they were satisfied. Then, following standard procedure, they sealed the corner of the exam paper where the candidate’s name was entered and sent it to be copied out. This happened at all three sessions of the examinations. Sure enough, our candidate, who didn’t write a word, passed. Secretly, the two examiners brimmed with smugness and, marveling at our candidate’s good luck, sent for him and asked him why he had left the examination papers blank. After he told them about his dreams and the voice in his ear, the two examiners observed, “So, what we took to be our impromptu writings were in fact inspired by divine will for your sake.”

Overwhelmed with gratitude, our candidate became the two examiners’ friend and disciple.

When a Mr. Zhang takes wine,

A Mr. Li yields to its influence.

When you are destined to pass the exams,

Even one word is superfluous.

The above anecdotes are all about candidates destined to pass. As for those who are not so destined, there is also an infinite variety of strange anecdotes.

[Anecdote 6:] A candidate who is not destined to pass falls victim to a prank that a divine being plays on him. In the Kuiwei year [1583] of the Wanli reign period [1573–1619], there was a provincial graduate, Guan Jiugao, who, before the examinations at the national level, dreamed that a divine being showed him seven essay topics. After waking up, he was still able to recall every character. The next morning, he sought out model essays in circulation and memorized the best ones. Once on the examination grounds, he was thrown into raptures when he saw that the seven topics given were exactly the ones he had seen in his dream. Writing as fast as his brush pen could go, he regurgitated what he had memorized without pausing even once for reflection. (MC: Since he was copying old essays, there was naturally a bad smell to them. Let this be a warning to plagiarizers!) He thought that, with help from a divine being, his success was a foregone conclusion.

As it turned out, however, the chief examiner that year happened to detest the stereotyped writings in fashion and had sought out all such essays in circulation that were relevant to the seven topics. He kept the collected essays in his inner office and compared them against the examination papers he was grading. Whenever he came upon papers that matched the existing essays, he failed the candidates. Therefore, Mr. Guan failed the exam and opted to accept an official appointment as a mere provincial graduate. If he had not dreamed of the seven topics, he would have written the essays on his own, probably with happier results. Wasn’t the divine being playing a prank on him?

Dreams are omens; this one spelled disaster.

Divine beings delight in playing pranks.

[Anecdote 7:] A candidate who is destined to fail passes the exam by resorting to forceful measures, but he is punished by divine beings in the end. In Shanyin of Zhejiang, there was a scholar named Zhuge Yiming who applied himself industriously to his studies in the mountains and did not even return home for New Year celebrations. On New Year’s Day of the Gengwu year [1570] of the Longqing reign period [1567–72], he rose before dawn and, after washing himself and combing his hair, went to pray at the local temple. On his way there, he encountered a procession of men, with criers shouting to clear the way. He thought, “This is certainly a rare occurrence in these mountains!” So he stepped aside to watch. Musicians playing wind and percussion instruments were followed by a horse laden with an object. A gold-armored divine being brought up the rear. Realizing that it was a divine being from the netherworld, Yiming walked up and asked respectfully, “Mighty god, what is it that goes before you?”

“The board inscribed with the list of successful candidates at this year’s provincial-level exams.”

“I’m Scholar Zhuge Yiming. Is my name on the list?”

“No. But your name is on the list of successful candidates for the next round of exams.” (IC: Good enough.)

“But my family is so poor. I can’t afford to wait. (IC: Another impatient and luckless one.) Could you move my name forward to this year’s list?”

“That would be difficult. But our meeting here means there’s a predestined bond between us, so I’ll try to do it for you. If you do pass, you must burn a lot of sacrificial money so that I can bribe high and low to make sure that there will be no setbacks. Otherwise, I’ll be held accountable.”

Yiming promised. When the list of successful candidates was publicized, Yiming’s name was the last one, topped by a vermilion seal. What had happened was that the list was already complete when one examiner approached the chief examiner, strongly recommending Yiming’s paper. He was so emotional that the chief examiner, against his better judgment, deleted the last name and replaced it with Yiming’s name. This was the work of that divine being behind the scenes. (MC: That person is innocent. It’s the candidate and the cheating deity who are infuriating.)

Yiming was so elated that, in his rush to attend the celebration banquet, he forgot to offer sacrificial money. On returning from the banquet, he saw a ghost with disheveled hair crying in front of his horse and saying, “You got me in trouble!”

Recognizing him to be the gold-armored deity, Yiming said apologetically, “I hope it’s not too late for me to burn sacrificial money to save you.”

“It is late, but you can try.”

Yiming forthwith bought some sacrificial money and burned it.

When the time for the national-level examinations rolled around, the deity came to tell him, “I can help you pass. Here are the seven essay topics.”

Yiming prepared in advance before entering the examination grounds. Sure enough, to his immense delight, the seven topics were the correct ones. Before the second session began, Yiming was about to enter the grounds when the deity appeared again to offer him the topics.

“It’s too late,” said Yiming.

“Just put the crib sheet in your head scarf. I’ll cover you,” said the deity.

Yiming did as he was told, but as soon as he found himself in the presence of the proctor, the crib note fell from his head scarf even before he was subjected to a body search. He was charged with cheating and was immediately put in a cangue and pilloried in public, and he was disqualified for all future examinations. The deity had come to take revenge on him. (MC: Why is the deity so vengeful? It’s because the deity had suffered severe punishment in the netherworld for having helped Zhuge pass the exams three years ahead of time.) It can thus be seen that if you are not destined to pass, you must not force it, not even when you are destined to pass later.

One too eager to win success

Ends up losing what he already has.

Be it humans or ghosts,

All involved will be in for punishment.

Gentle reader, these anecdotes serve to show that success in the examinations is predestined. Do not ever attempt to seek the impossible. Hence,

Speak not of fate when studying by the window;

Talent may not mean success on the exams.

The average person is so inundated with talk about destiny that his head swirls. This humble storyteller now proceeds to our story proper, one about a man whose exam success and allotted span of life were all revealed to him.

In the Tang dynasty, there was a Mr. Li who was deputy regional commander of Jiangling. Early in his youth, before he passed the civil service examinations, he went from Luoyang to Chang’an to sit for the exams at the national level. When passing Huayin Trail, he stopped to lodge at an inn. There, he saw a white-clad lodger whose refined looks and graceful deportment set him apart from the others in spite of the humbleness of his clothing. The inn was teeming with people, but no one was paying any attention to him. Mr. Li, with his agile mind and abundant intelligence, took notice and thought, “This is by no means an ordinary man.” (MC: Even an immortal can feel he has met an intimate friend when a mere mortal singles him out from the vulgar.) He moved his seat closer to the man and engaged him in conversation. His eloquence and ready answers to Li’s questions won him even greater respect from Li. They drank together by the same stove and found great pleasure in each other’s company.

The next day, they set out on their journey together. On reaching Zhaoying [near Huayin, Shaanxi], Mr. Li said, “Out of admiration for your otherworldly qualities, I’d like to swear brotherhood with you. If you don’t scorn my lowliness, please tell me your name and your age so that I know how to address you.”

The man in white replied, “I have no name or age. (IC: How extraordinary!) You may call me ‘Older Brother’ and treat me like one.”

Mr. Li complied and swore brotherhood with him. That evening, the man in white said to Li, “I’m a hermit on Mount Hua, out on a casual pleasure trip. I’m grateful to you for your friendship. I have an engagement that obliges me to go into the city tomorrow morning. May I be excused?”

“I’m a lucky man to be able to make your acquaintance. Now that we have to say good-bye suddenly, do you have any advice to enlighten me?”

“Is it your future you want to know?”

With repeated bows, Mr. Li said, “If I could know what will happen in the future, I’d be able to avoid pitfalls and not grope around in the dark. Yes, such is my wish.”

“But divine mysteries are not supposed to be revealed to mortal ears. I’ll seal three envelopes for you. What is written in them will be borne out later.”

“I pleaded for enlightenment because it would be wonderful to know about the future. But if I wait for things to happen and to be borne out later by the contents of the envelopes, what good will that do?”

“That’s not the way to look at it. Fame and fortune may be a matter of destiny, but I, with my prophetic powers, can point you toward the right path. If you open the envelopes at the right time, you’ll find them useful in securing fame and fortune for you.”

Thus advised, Mr. Li gladly asked for the envelopes. The man in white took three sheets of paper and a writing brush pen and wrote something by moonlight. Then he folded the sheets and stuffed them into three envelopes, one each. Handing them to Li, he said, “These three envelopes contain information about all the important events in your life. There’s an order to the envelopes, each with a secret message. In times of emergency, open them one by one in the right order and they’ll begin to work. Do as I say, and you stand to gain, but in the absence of an emergency, opening them will not do you any good. Remember this well!”

With another bow, Mr. Li took the envelopes and stored them carefully in a box. The next day, they bade each other farewell and went their separate ways.

Mr. Li went to Chang’an and sat for the national-level examinations but failed. Li’s now deceased father had been the magistrate of Songzi and his family fortune had been quite ample, but on his way to the capital to seek a promotion, carrying his money with him, he died of illness at an inn, and the family was reduced to poverty. Grieving over his father’s death and the family’s straitened circumstances, Mr. Li was determined that he would return home only after he passed the exams so that he could rebuild the family fortune. He took an extra amount of travel money with him and tenaciously held on to his lodging in the capital, determined not to leave until he passed the exams. Made presumptuous by his own intellect, he thought success on the exams was within easy reach. (MC: As is usually the case, this is what ruins things.) As it turned out, fate was against him. He took five or six rounds of examinations in succession but failed each time. His money gave out. With no money for traveling home or renting enough space for a foothold and staying on for the next round of examinations, he was at a loss as to what to do.

In this moment of desperation, it suddenly occurred to him, “My immortal brother told me to open his envelopes in emergencies. I’m at the end of my rope now. If this isn’t an emergency, what is? Why don’t I open the first envelope and see what it says? But since these come from an immortal, I mustn’t make a rash move.”

That evening, he took a bath and ate only vegetables. Early the next morning, he lit enough incense sticks to fill an incense burner, bowed twice, and prayed. “Desperate in my poverty, I now open the first envelope from my immortal brother in the hope of being enlightened.” Having said that, he opened the envelope, only to reveal a smaller envelope inscribed with the words “On the _th day of the _th month of the _th year, open the first envelope when your means are exhausted.”

Appalled, Li said to himself, “He’s truly divine! How did he know I’d be reduced to this? Today is exactly the date shown on it, which means I did right in opening it. There must be something wonderful in it.” As he opened the smaller envelope, he found in it a piece of paper inscribed with these brief words: “Go sit in front of Green Dragon Monastery.” These words somewhat mystified him, but he dared not disobey. “But what good will that do?” he wondered.

Upon inquiry, he learned that Green Dragon Monastery was more than fifty li from his lodging. Resignedly, he hired a lame donkey and proceeded slowly to the temple. By the time he arrived, day was giving way to evening. Following the instructions, he sat listlessly on the threshold for a while, but nothing stirred. As evening closed in on him, he began to grow anxious. Then, recalling the instructions, he felt amused, thinking, “What a fool I am! Would any money come my way if I go on sitting here? Without money, I won’t have a place to stay tonight. What am I going to do?”

While he was debating with himself as to what to do, he heard footsteps approaching from inside the monastery. It was the abbot and an acolyte coming to close the front gate. On seeing Li, they asked “Who might you be? Why are you sitting here?”

“My donkey is too weak, I live too far from here, and I have nowhere to go at this late hour. May I stay here tonight?”

The abbot said, “It’s so windy and cold here. How can you stay in this spot? Let us take you inside.” (MC: With someone extending an invitation, at least something is astir.)

Mr. Li demurred, “I don’t want to trouble Your Reverence.” But at the abbot’s insistence, Mr. Li led his donkey and followed them inside. As he had the look of a scholar, the abbot prepared food and tea for him so as not to be remiss in his obligations as host.

While they were drinking at the table, the abbot looked him up and down. Then the abbot turned around, talked with the acolyte, and burst out laughing. Mr. Li was puzzled but thought it improper to ask. After a while, the urge to speak got the better of the abbot. Abruptly, he asked, “What’s your surname, sir?”

“Li.”

With a start, the abbot exclaimed, “So you’re indeed a Li!”

“Why did my humble name startle you so, Your Reverence?”

The abbot continued, “Do you know Commander Li of Songzi, who should be a member of your clan?”

Li stood up and said with a frown, “He’s my father, now deceased.”

The abbot burst into tears at these words. He said, “Your father and I were close friends of long standing. My heart skipped a beat when I first saw you because you’re the very image of your father. So you’re indeed his son! I’ve been looking for you for quite some time now. I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

Saddened by the mention of his father, Li said through his tears, “Please forgive me if I gave you offense. I had no idea that you and my father were friends. But I wonder why you’ve been looking for me.”

“Years ago, your father came to this place on his way to seek a position. He brought his money with him. Then he got ill and suffered grievously. He deposited two thousand strings of cash in the vault of this monastery. But after he passed, there has been no use for the money, which has become a burden on my mind. Now that you’re here, this case can be closed, and this old monk will have nothing to worry about for the rest of his life.” (MC: Good monk! Mr. Li Senior was a good judge of character.)

“I knew only that my father died away from home, and nothing has been heard about his money. So it was deposited with Your Reverence. Since there was no witness, Your Reverence could have kept silent about the money, but instead, you tried to look for me. Your Reverence outshines the ancients in your loyalty to a friend. I’ll never forget your kindness in keeping the memory of my father alive.”

“Why would someone who’s renounced the mundane world need money? What’s more, how could I appropriate other people’s money? I would only be adding to my sins! What I dreaded most was that should I break my promise to your father, I’d remain indebted to him life after life. Now, relieved of this weight on my mind, I’ll be able to enjoy a peaceful sleep. (MC: He not only is loyal to a friend but is also a man of integrity.) I can see that you’re in reduced circumstances. Please write me a note tomorrow to testify that all the money will be yours, to defray your travel expenses and to support yourself. Your father will be able to rest in peace.”

Li was overcome by mixed emotions of sorrow and joy—sorrow because of the memories of his father and joy because of this windfall. He poured out a flood of thanks to the abbot and marveled at the immortal’s divinatory powers, as shown in his’ note, something that was quite out of the ordinary.

The abbot trod in the footsteps of the ancients

And stayed true to the owner of the deposit.

The poor son did have an inheritance,

But it would have been out of reach if not for the letter.

That night, the abbot kept him in the monastery and showered him with hospitality. The next day, the two thousand strings of cash were handed over to Mr. Li, who drew up a receipt, hired a mule, loaded the strings on its back, and bade the abbot farewell.

Thereafter, Li bought a house in Chang’an, for he had suddenly become a rich man. He had been living in genteel poverty for so long that he had remained single because his own livelihood was uncertain. Now that he was seen to be a man of impressive means and with an elite family background at that, matchmakers began to flock to his door. So he married and planned to settle down in Chang’an. He sat for another two rounds of the examinations but failed again each time. As he was getting on in years, his relatives, friends, and servants all advised him to settle for a government post and hold on to it until retirement rather than let the false prospect of success on the exams continue to delude him until he was hoary with old age. However, made presumptuous by his own talent and the fact that his newly acquired wealth had freed him from worries about food and clothing, he said, “This one step will make a great deal of difference. How can I be content to stop here and let those whose talents are inferior to mine become dizzy with their success? (IC: How pathetic!) I’ll have another go at the exams.”

So he sat for another round of the examinations but failed again. This was his tenth failure. No matter how unwilling he was to accept defeat, the annual drinking parties were exhausting his patience.

Storyteller! What drinking parties are you talking about?

Gentle reader, let me explain: During the Tang dynasty, after the list of successful candidates was announced, those who failed to make the list would get together for a feast in order to dispel their sorrows. Imagine joining such feasts ten times! (MC: Some attend more than ten.) Undecided on whether or not to stop, he reasoned that if he waited for the next round of examinations, not only would he be overwhelmed by objections from people around him, but he himself would also lose confidence. Moreover, his wife, as was only to be expected, looked forward to life as the wife of an official, even if a minor one. Day in and day out, with her tongue incessantly going, he was all the more at a loss as to what to do. (MC: Heroes who lose their way feel one another’s pain across generations.) His eyes misting over, he said, “If I give up, I’ll remain a ‘failed candidate’ for the rest of my life. Even if I obtain a high government post by a stroke of good luck (IC: Don’t count on it in this life!), the title won’t have much of a ring to it.”

After weighing his choices for some time, he was suddenly struck by an idea: “My immortal brother has two other envelopes that I can open in emergencies. This is no emergency, but this is a moment of decision as to whether I should settle down here or not. This concerns the rest of my life. Much is at stake. Why don’t I open his second envelope and take my cue from it?” Having thus made up his mind, he abstained from meat and took a bath. Early the next morning, he opened the outer envelope and saw this line: “On the _th day of the _th month, you will open this envelope to decide whether to give up on the examinations or not.”

Overjoyed, Li said to himself, “So today is the day I’m supposed to open the envelope. If that’s the case, there must be instructions inside as to what I should do about the rest of my life.”

He opened the smaller envelope inside with alacrity and saw these brief words: “You may go to West Market and sit in the place with a stable.”

Li wondered, “Now what am I going to make of this? I thought I’d see clear instructions as to whether or not I should take more examinations, but instead here comes another riddle. Last time, it turned out that the abbot in one Green Dragon Monastery owed me money. Can someone in that place with a stable also owe me a debt, one that has something to do with the exams? (IC: Maybe so.) But my immortal brother has never erred in his instructions. Let me do as he directs and see what happens. This is getting a little absurd.” After thus talking to himself for a while, he saw no better alternative but to follow the instructions and proceed to West Market.

Once there, he thought, “Where should I sit?” At this point, his eyes fell on a certain place. Behold:

A pennant flutters high overhead;

Jars of wine stand all around.

The couplet on the gate, written in drunkenness,

Can hardly be passed off as poetry.

The lines scribbled on the walls

Were composed in haste by passing travelers.

A stench assails one at the entrance;

The table is bare of fine dishes.

Orders barked loudly from the seats

Bring no response from the waiters.

Never mind the advice “Dismount at the aroma”;

Say nothing of letting the good food stop your horse.

You enter just to stay the pangs of hunger

Or to meet someone to discuss matters.

It was a large restaurant. Feeling bored sitting alone, Li decided to go inside and order a flask of wine. As he stepped into the restaurant, the owner realized that he was looking at a scholar. With his hands respectfully clasped in front of his chest, the owner said, “We have nice tables upstairs. Please go upstairs, sir.”

Mr. Li went upstairs and sat down. He saw a nice, clean booth at the eastern end of the corridor. Its door was closed, but there was some noise coming from inside, as if it was occupied. Directly under his seat, on the ground floor, was a room that appeared to be the owner’s. In the floor, there was a hole through which he could see what was going on down there. As he sat upstairs alone, waiting for the waiter to bring up his wine and food, he felt bored, and on hearing subdued voices from downstairs, he put his eyes to the hole. He saw one man looking as if he was about to leave and another man patting him on the shoulder and giving him what was apparently the conclusion of a series of instructions: “Tell the young man to be sure to come here early tomorrow morning. If he doesn’t have the money, just say that no payment is to be made at this time and that he must not pass up the opportunity. It will be too late if he misses it by one day.” (MC: Truly, a case of the one who wants to sell finding no buyer, and the one who wants to buy finding no seller.)

The man who was about to leave said, “What if he still has doubts and refuses to come?”

Li was mystified by this exchange, thinking, “Could my immortal brother’s words have anything to do with what these two men are talking about?” Losing no time, he rushed down the stairs and ran smack into the men, one of whom was the restaurant owner, and the other was unknown to Li. Grabbing the owner, Li asked, “What were the two of you talking about?”

The owner replied, “The vice minister’s son needs one thousand strings of cash for an emergency and asked us to find him the money. We’re trying to find someone for him.”

“A thousand strings is no small amount,” said Li. “Where can you find a rich man like that to borrow from?”

The owner corrected him, “No, not to borrow, but to exchange for a favor.”

Li repeatedly tried to find out more details, but the owner said, “What’s it to you? Why should I spell everything out?”

Intrigued by Li’s eagerness, the man who was about to leave stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Why can’t we tell him the truth?” said he. “The one we have in mind may not want the deal. We may not be able to find another patron. Why don’t we talk about it?”

At this point, the owner whispered into Li’s ear, “It’s a deal that has to do with next year’s examinations.”

This was exactly what was preying on Li’s mind, and he was amazed that his immortal brother’s note had led him to this deal. “Is this for real?” he asked.

The owner said, “The vice minister’s son is in the booth upstairs. Of course it’s for real.”

“From what I overheard of your conversation, you were about to go look for the one you had in mind. Right?”

The owner replied, “A provincial graduate agreed to the deal and was supposed to come yesterday to pay up, but he hasn’t shown up so far. He may not have been able to scrape together enough money, or he may doubt that the deal is for real. But in fact the vice minister’s son is not demanding payment right now. He can be paid in full after the scholar passes the exams. We were afraid that our provincial graduate hasn’t shown up because he doesn’t have the money, so I was just asking my friend, who’s in charge, to go remind him of the appointment. If he doesn’t show up tomorrow, the young master will be gone, and such a good opportunity will go to waste.”

Li announced, “For your information, gentlemen, I’m also a provincial graduate, and I do have the money. May I see the young master and close the deal?”

The owner said, “Do you mean it, sir?”

“Of course I do!”

“Such deals can be made with anybody. (MC: Grow flowers with care, and they die on you. Plant willow twigs at random, and they grow into shady groves.) If you mean to do it, what’s there to stop you?”

The other man weighed in, “As the ancients said, ‘Whoever feeds a man is that man’s master.’ Why should we go look for bronze when we have a ready-made bell on hand? If you’re serious about it, I can save myself a trip.”

The owner said, “In that case, let’s take you upstairs so that you can talk with the young master face-to-face.” Whereupon, the two men led Mr. Li upstairs.

After the other man entered the booth at the eastern end of the corridor and spoke for a while, a young man slowly emerged from inside. How did he look?

With a portly figure and plump, fair-complexioned cheeks,

He was slow in his movements and brash in his speech.

He looked at people with dull eyes;

He talked about things in vague terms.

Thanks to his forefathers’ high status,

He lived in pampered luxury. (MC: Portrait of a spoiled son of the rich.)

When the man emerged from the booth, the restaurant owner hastened to lead Mr. Li to him. “This is the vice minister’s son,” said he to Mr. Li. “Pay your respects to him properly.”

After Li greeted the young man with proper decorum, they exchanged amenities and sat down.

“Are you a provincial graduate?” asked the young man, waving a hand at him. (IC: What arrogance!)

Li introduced himself and added, “I’ve been told about what will be happening next year. Please do help me out in that matter.”

The young man nodded without answering and fixed his eyes on the owner and the other man. Gesturing with his hand, he asked, “What’s the word on that deal?”

The owner answered, “I’ve told him about the price. We made an appointment with another man who should have come yesterday, but he didn’t show up, supposedly for lack of funds. This Mr. Li here does have the money and is willing to take the deal. So we’ve brought him to you, sir.”

“I’m not asking for a lot of money. (IC: This man lacks common sense.) Why do I get a taker only now?” (MC: He has no idea of how hard life can be.)

The owner replied, “Most provincial graduates are poor, so we haven’t been able to find the right one, being pressed for time.”

“Why not just pick a rich one?”

“Those who are rich will surely want the deal, but we just haven’t been able to locate any that easily.”

Pointing to Li, the vice minister’s son asked the owner, “Will this one do?”

Before the owner could reply, Li volunteered, “I have a temporary home in Chang’an, and my family property is all here. I do hope the deal will go through. A thousand strings can be easily had. I surely won’t fail you.”

The young man said, “That’s wonderful. The vice minister who will be the chief examiner for the exams next year is my uncle. I won’t fail you either. You need not pay anything today. We’ll just sign a contract. After you pass the exams, I’ll receive the payment from the restaurant owner. I take it that I won’t be shortchanged.”

Convinced by the logic and secure in the knowledge that the deal was endorsed by his immortal brother’s note, Li felt certain that he would succeed. Without any misgivings, he was ready to take bold action. He retrieved two strings of cash from his sleeve and asked the owner to have wine served. The two parties drew up a contract over their cups of wine and agreed on delivery of the silver after Li passed the exams the following year. (MC: The god of money works wonders. Talented scholars must also have money. Those with talent but no money get nowhere.) Then and there, Mr. Li thanked the owner and the other man by giving them two strings of cash, and everyone gleefully went his own way.

With help from the vice minister’s son, Li did pass the examinations the following year. We need hardly say that he paid the one thousand strings of cash as promised. All too clearly, his immortal brother’s second note brought about his success on the exams, his lifetime goal.

Real talent may not help with your career;

Gold works better at getting you success.

The story about the immortal’s note

Shows that the love of money is bred in the bone.

After his success on the exams and his appointment to a government post, Li wished to see his immortal brother in order to thank him because he owed his fame and achievements to the immortal’s secret notes, and he also wanted to ask more questions about the rest of his life. (IC: That’s quite unnecessary.) He sent a messenger to Mount Hua in Huayin, but searches everywhere failed to produce any information about the whereabouts of that man in white, so he gave up the attempt. His career proved to be such smooth sailing and so uneventful that he had no reason to open the third envelope.

One day, during his term of office as deputy regional commander of Jiangling, he suddenly experienced chest pains and drifted in and out of consciousness several times within a short period of time. At this moment when his life hung in the balance, he called to mind the third envelope and said to his wife, “My life hanging by a thread qualifies as an emergency, which justifies opening my immortal brother’s third envelope. It must contain a cure.” Unable to get out of bed, he asked his wife to take a bath and open the envelope with due reverence. When she opened the outer envelope, she saw a line inside, in the same format as the first two, which said, “On the _th day of the _th month, the Jiangling deputy regional commander will open the third envelope after experiencing chest pains.”

His wife was delighted, saying, “Not only is the date accurate; he also got the illness right. So he must have a cure for it.” In haste, she opened the smaller envelope, but on reading the note eagerly, she cried out in despair. The note contained fewer characters than the previous two. It said only “Make your last will and testament.”

Realizing that all hope was lost, his wife burst into wails of grief. Li said cheerfully, “Since my immortal brother has announced the end of my life, what good does crying do? (MC: Mr. Li is open-minded indeed, but even if he were not so open-minded, what could he have done?) When I was poor, he put me on the road to riches. When I was humble, he brought me high status. Now that my number’s up, why can’t he give me a new lease on life? Because it’s all a matter of fate, from which there’s no escape. Wealth and rank are in fact in my fate. Everything is predestined. It’s just that my immortal brother knew all in advance and took the trouble to give me a few pointers. Come to think of it, I have real talent, and yet I spent a whole lifetime taking exams and failing them. Even when my time came, I still had to gain fame by meeting someone by chance and having a few strings pulled. Isn’t it clear that everything is predestined? One should never seek anything that’s against one’s fate. Now that I’ve risen so high in my career as an official, how can I not be content when my immortal brother has already revealed my fate to me? How can I nurse any resentment?” Thereupon, he began to make arrangements for his own funeral and leave instructions for his family. Two days later, he passed away with a smile on his lips.

This story, titled “Opening Three Mysterious Envelopes,” exhorts people not to ask too much from life because everything is predestined. Those with talent but no luck must be content with their lot and stop feeling sorry for themselves. (MC: The moral of the story.)

Poverty is a matter of fate;

Even immortals find their hands tied.

Wealth and rank fall into one’s lap by chance;

The date when the coffin will be closed is hard to change.