The Six “No-Worries”
It was the summer of 1981, and a year had passed since I completed my fast in the dark chamber. I had just finished my junior year of high school. I hadn’t seen my master since winter break, and that visit had lasted only ten cold days. I was looking forward to spending my third summer at Jiuyi Temple—this time above ground—so three days after school ended, I stuffed my satchel with a few items and headed for the train station. In my bag I carried a pair of underwear, an extra T-shirt, a pair of pants, sandals, a pair of socks, and a toothbrush. I nudged the heaviest item in last: an abridged edition of The Count of Monte Cristo. On my way to the train station I bought dried lychees and sugared kumquats, both wrapped in crinkly brown paper. These were gifts for Xiao Yao.
I boarded the overnight train. The next day I rode the bus through the remote backcountry roads and hiked along the balmy forest trail. When I finally saw the temple’s main gate through the treetops, I quickened my pace. The courtyard was a beehive of activity. Bald heads and shirtless mountaineers buzzed everywhere.
A few men were roofing the main hall while another cluster of laborers was refurbishing the Buddha statues beneath. Half the icons glistened with a bright gold patina and the rest were dressed in the crackled paint of timeworn, honeyed hues. The large Buddha at the center of all the activity was dressed in a fresh coat of gold. He looked knowingly into the distance as he always did, unmoved by the commotion around him.
I greeted familiar faces. Friends waved to me and I waved back. I placed my belongings in Xiao Yao’s room and went to find my master. He was holding a meeting. Liu Bo, the administrator of the monastery, was in attendance, as well as a few other monks I recognized and some newer members of the community I didn’t know.
Xiao Yao was speaking while the others listened attentively. The door was cracked open, so I peeked in and waved. He smiled and waved back as he continued talking. I returned to the courtyard and assisted one of the masons who was making cement. When he was finished with his task, I went into the main hall, grabbed a paintbrush, dipped it into a can of paint, and coated one of the temple walls bright red. A few leisurely hours passed. As the activity was dying down, a young monk told me that Xiao Yao was waiting for me in his room. I put down my paintbrush, washed my hands clean, and dashed across the courtyard.
“Jihui, how are you?” my master asked. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed.
“I am well, Shifu,” I answered. I reached into my bag and handed him my gifts.
“Buddha bless you,” he said as he sliced a kumquat with a sharp knife. He poured some ginger tea from a thermos into two white porcelain cups and dropped the fruit in as a sweetener. I savored the aroma as we both sipped the tea.
“How is your family?” Xiao Yao inquired with sincere interest.
“We are all doing well. My parents send you their greetings,” I replied.
“And how is your school work coming along?”
“My studies are going well. The schoolmaster’s daughter has become a good friend. She is also studying English. There are about seven of us who want to major in the subject and we’re getting special attention from her mother, who has hired the finest teachers in Xiangtan.”
“Next year you’ll be taking your university entrance exam.”
“I know. I took a practice exam a few weeks ago.”
“How did you do?”
“I did well enough, and I have one more year to improve my score.”
“I am happy to hear that.”
We chatted and emptied our teacups. A young monk knocked on the door. Xiao Yao was needed elsewhere. My master was very busy. I spent the rest of the day wandering up and down the mountain trails, running around and splashing in a clear stream, smelling wildflowers, and basking on a warm, flat rock as I watched the sunset.
The following day Xiao Yao asked me to assist him with the healing treatments he performed at the temple. Although the monastery was hard to reach, villagers from the valley and beyond would frequently make the long journey for a healing treatment with my master. When I was at the temple assisting him, he often used hands-on healing methods that I could help him with. We worked together as a healing team. He asked me to direct Qi to various parts of a patient’s body and activate specific energy points while he worked on their Four Golden Wheels. While I emitted Qi into them, I could feel my master’s potent energy flowing into their Four Golden Wheels, especially into their Central Meridian.
One morning a few days after I arrived, I heard a raucous cry by the main gate. Four mountaineers were carrying a fifth man on a makeshift stretcher made out of two rough-cut branches and a blanket. The patient was moaning. My master and I ran toward them. One of the men explained that the man on the stretcher had been bitten on the ankle by a poisonous snake. He showed Xiao Yao his foot. It was discolored and as swollen as a big sweet bun. The skin was stretched and glossy, and it looked like a balloon about to burst. The two puncture marks were clearly visible and rivulets of black blood oozed out from both of them. The rest of his leg was turning dark with an ominous red streak that extended from his ankle all the way up his right thigh. There is a well-known Qigong saying that says that if that red line reaches the heart, the patient will die. It was already more than halfway there.
“Bring him to my room,” Xiao Yao ordered the men.
They did, setting the mountaineer down on my master’s bed. The man was well-built with meaty legs. The pain was intense, and he was going in and out of consciousness.
Xiao Yao brought out a bottle of dark liquor that he kept in his room. He quickly empowered it with his Qi and helped the man gulp down a few swallows. Then my master filled his own mouth with the alcohol and sprayed it over the snake bite.
“Press the top of his head and empower his Central Meridian,” he told me.
I activated the energy point and sent energy from the top of his head straight down. The energy in his Central Meridian was dissipating. It felt scattered and weak. Xiao Yao activated various points on the mountaineer’s leg and spent a long time pressing hard on his Lower Dantian.
The healing energy in the room thickened and the mountaineer coughed.
Xiao Yao used his Sword Finger to direct energy from the man’s Lower Dantian along the long red line back down to the snakebite. Blood trickled out from the two dark holes and then it began to stream. He continued to direct the Qi and reverse the flow of the poison. More blood pumped out. The bed was soon stained dark red. Then the color of the blood lightened, and within fifteen minutes it looked normal. The red line had faded and the swelling was nearly gone.
Xiao Yao washed the wound with fresh water and gave the man another cup of liquor to drink.
“You are fine now. Go home and rest,” he told him.
The mountaineer sat up and moved his leg. He was fully conscious and nearly pain free. He stood up slowly and tested his balance. Then he slowly knelt down and bowed three times to show Xiao Yao his gratitude. The mountaineer walked out of the room without any help. Less than half an hour had passed since he had been brought in.
A few days later, a military officer arrived at the monastery and asked to speak to Xiao Yao.
“I was dispatched by the chief administrator of the military hospital from my base,” he said. “We have a problem and we need your urgent help. A high-ranking official from Beijing is visiting us. His name is General Han. He is very sick. The doctors did all they could, but he is still ill and must return soon to the capital on important business. The administrator heard about you. He wants you to come back with me to the base to heal the general.”
“What is the matter with General Han?” Xiao Yao asked.
“He has a urinary infection. He is in much pain.”
“I’m sorry,” Xiao Yao replied, “but I’m very busy working with other patients right now. I can’t leave the monastery.”
The officer looked startled.
“Don’t worry. I’m not sending you back empty handed. My disciple will return to the base with you.” Xiao Yao glanced over in my direction. “He will heal the general.”
“Me?” I replied. I had never healed anyone on my own, and the thought of working on a high-ranking military officer terrified me.
“Yes, Jihui,” he said, calling me by my Chinese name. “Follow the officer back to the base and do what you can to help the general.”
I was speechless. A flurry of fear and anger fell over me, and I stared at the floor to hide my emotions. A high-ranking Chinese general was a powerful man whose disfavor could jeopardize my future. In a flash, I envisioned my failure and his displeasure. I imagined him barring my admission to a university, harassing my family, locking me up in jail, and even shooting me with his gun. My anxiety deepened, as did the resentment I felt toward my master for putting me in this predicament.
“Don’t worry,” Xiao Yao said. “Do what you feel is right. You have my full confidence.”
The officer and I crossed the courtyard. As we passed under the front gate, I wondered whether I would ever return. We walked down Snowy Peak Mountain in tense silence. There was a military Jeep waiting for us down below. When I saw it, I nearly panicked. I wanted to run into the forest and hide.
The ride lasted two hours. We drove past a checkpoint and entered the base. The officer pulled up to the entrance of the military hospital. The chief administrator of the hospital was waiting for us. When he saw me, he cringed. My youth embarrassed him. An anxious frown indicated his apprehension that the general would blame him for my incompetence.
“General Han must get back to Beijing tomorrow,” he said. His voice was steely and cold. “But he can’t walk. The pain is intense. In my professional opinion, he won’t be able to leave for at least another week.”
“I understand, sir. I will try my best to help General Han,” I answered.
The chief administrator eyed me blankly. My sincerity did not impress him. Despite his reservations, he led me to the general’s room and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” a weak voice said.
I entered, followed by the administrator. General Han was a wiry, gray-haired man in his seventies. He was lying flat on his back. He propped himself up slightly and smiled through the pain.
“Welcome, young man. I am General Han. Thank you for coming,” he said. His friendly voice eased some of the tension I had been storing since I left the monastery.
“It’s nothing serious, really, just a little problem with my sewage system.”
The administrator forced a chuckle.
The general pointed at him, “He’s too worried about me. I don’t want you to worry. You just do your thing. You have my full confidence.”
To my astonishment, the general repeated the exact same phrase spoken to me by Xiao Yao.
“Yes sir. I promise to do my best,” I said, feeling a little more confident.
I scanned the general’s Lower Dantian energetically. I felt a burning sensation, like I was holding scalding charcoal in my palm. He had a bad infection. I empowered his Central Meridian, and I activated two energy points on the soles of his feet. I cleared his kidney and urinary bladder meridians and pumped fresh Qi into his kidneys. Periodically, I scanned his Lower Dantian. When I finished the treatment, the burning sensation was nearly gone.
“Hmm …” The general’s breathing was slow and deep and his eyes were closed. He seemed relieved.
“Sir, I think I may need to work on you again tomorrow,” I said.
“Hmm …” the general responded as his head sunk into the pillow.
I spent the evening at the base. A hearty meal was prepared for me, but I hardly touched it. I tossed in bed, unable to shake off my apprehension. Early the next morning, a hard knock woke me from my shallow sleep.
The door opened and a young soldier slightly older than I peeked in. “General Han would like to see you,” he said.
“How is he feeling?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
I dressed quickly and followed the soldier back to the hospital. My legs grew heavier each step of the way. We entered the building and walked straight to the general’s room.
The solider rapped on the door.
“Come in!” General Han’s voice boomed.
I entered. The general was wearing his military uniform. He stood up straight and his eyes were sharp and alert. He shook my hand vigorously. “The pain is all gone, and I feel more energetic than I have in many years. You are an excellent plumber, young man,” he said.
Everyone in the room laughed, including me.
I worked on the general for a short while again. I empowered him and balanced his energy, and before leaving for Beijing later that day, General Han summoned me back to his room.
“I really appreciate what you did for me,” he said. He unfastened his stainless steel watch and handed it to me. “Take this as a token of my appreciation. Thank you.”
Watches were precious commodities in those days, and the gift overwhelmed me. I admired the timepiece, not even daring to try it on.
The chief administrator organized a private tour of the camp. At dinner I tasted lobster for the first time. Afterward, I was invited to the screening of a film in a tiny plush cinema usually reserved only for high-ranking officers and officials.
The next day another officer drove me back to the temple. The trek up the winding trail was a joyous occasion, and I reached the monastery in record time. I couldn’t wait to share the good news with Xiao Yao.
“I deliberately sent you to heal General Han alone,” he told me. “I could have done it myself or I could have accompanied you and let you work on him, but I wanted you to realize that after all these years of training you really are a Qigong healer. You are qualified to heal on your own. I could have told you so, but you wouldn’t have believed me deep inside. I want you to remember that horrible feeling you felt before you left. Whenever you come across that sensation again, push through it and another world will open up.”
“Shifu, I’d like you to have this,” I said, and offered him the watch.
“Keep it. I’m a monk. I have no use for a watch. Besides, you earned it.”
He took the watch and strapped it around my wrist and said, “We are all human beings. No matter how much worldly power a person has, we all share the same vulnerabilities, especially when we are ill. Treat an emperor and a peasant with the same respect and you will never be intimidated by someone’s title or position.”
The following morning, before daybreak, I followed my master along the dewy purple trail that led from the temple to the Rainbow Tree. Xiao Yao was in a talkative mood.
“Spiritual cultivation is simple and the fruits are sweet. Practice daily and you will harvest the Six No-Worries,” he said.
As I walked behind him, he repeated the Six No-Worries in the strong, familiar accent that had endeared him to me for so long.
“No worry eating. When your Qi flows smoothly, the plainest meal tastes delicious. No worry sleeping. When your Qi flows smoothly, you sleep like a baby. No worry toilet. When your Qi flows smoothly, you won’t experience digestive problems. No worry energy. When your Qi flows smoothly, you have ample vitality to deal with whatever arises. No worry sex. When your Qi flows smoothly, your sexual energy enhances your life. No worry emotions. When your Qi flows smoothly, your emotions are calm and you rarely get sick.”
The nascent morning sun reflected off the pine needles that carpeted our path.
“When your Qi flows smoothly, there are no worries. You live like a shenxian—an immortal in fairyland,” he added.
We reached the Rainbow Tree and practiced Qigong in the iridescent morning mist. The rising sun nourished us as we meditated on the cliff’s edge facing the wide-open expanse. I opened my eyes and looked at my master.
Xiao Yao was glowing with kindness and peace. It was hard to believe that he was nearly a century old. His aura radiated a beautiful, clear light. Above us was a large double rainbow with one end resting on the mountain and the other end resting in midair. It embraced Heaven and Earth, cradling us between them like a pair of benevolent arms.