The poem says:
A hundred years of light and shade flow past like water; A lifetime's undertakings are but foam upon the stream. Yesterday the peach-blossom hue still bloomed upon the cheek; Today the snowflakes drift about the head. Only when the white ants' ranks are scattered do we know it was illusion; Only when the cuckoo's cry grows piercing do we think of turning back. Since ancient times, hidden merit has been able to lengthen life: The good need beg no favor—Heaven provides of its own accord.
Now the soul of Emperor Taizong, dim and drifting, passed straight out before the Five Phoenix Tower, and there he saw the imperial guards and horsemen inviting the imperial chariot to leave the palace for the hunt. Taizong gladly complied, and away he floated. After traveling a long while, the men and horses were all gone, and he found himself alone, wandering through wild outskirts and grassy fields.
Just as he was growing alarmed, at a loss to find the road, he heard someone on the other side calling loudly: "Emperor of the Great Tang! Come this way! Come this way!"
Hearing this, Taizong raised his head to look, and saw a man—
On his head a black gauze cap, round his waist a rhinoceros-horn belt. On his head a black gauze cap, its soft streamers floating; Round his waist a rhinoceros-horn belt, its gold mountings gleaming. In his hands an ivory tablet, wreathed in auspicious mist; On his body a gauze robe, veiling a numinous light. On his feet a pair of white-soled boots, treading cloud and hastening mist; In his bosom the Register of Life and Death, fixing the span of all that live. His grizzled locks stream loose above his ears; His whiskers dance and flutter round his cheeks. Once a minister of state in the Tang; Now a bench-clerk serving King Yama.
When Taizong walked over to him, the man knelt and bowed at the roadside, crying: "Your Majesty, forgive your servant the crime of failing to welcome you from afar!"
Taizong asked: "Who are you? Why have you come to receive me with such bows?" The man said: "Half a month ago, your servant, in the Hall of Senluo, saw the ghost-dragon of the Jing River bring his accusation against Your Majesty—how you promised to save him and then put him to death instead. The King Qinguang of the First Court at once dispatched ghost messengers to hasten Your Majesty hither, that the case might be tried with all three parties confronted. Your servant knew of this, and so came here to await and receive you. I had not thought to arrive so late today. I beg you pardon my offense, pardon my offense." Taizong said: "What is your name, and what office do you hold?" The man said: "While I lived I served the late sovereign in the ministries of the world of light, first as magistrate of Zizhou, later as Vice Minister of Rites; my surname was Cui, my name Jue. Now in the Department of Darkness I have received the post of presiding judge in Fengdu." Taizong was greatly pleased, drew near, and lifted him up with his own imperial hand, saying: "Sir, you have come a long way to meet me. Wei Zheng, who stands at my side, has a letter addressed to you, and here we chance to meet." The judge thanked him for his grace and asked where the letter was.
Taizong took it from his sleeve and handed it over. Cui Jue received it with a bow, broke the seal, and read. The letter said:
"From your unworthy loving brother Wei Zheng, with bowed head, to my elder friend and contract brother Judge Cui, most venerable sir: I recall our old friendship; your voice and face are before me still. Suddenly years have passed without my hearing your pure instruction. I have only set out vegetables and offerings at the festival seasons in sacrifice—I know not whether you have partaken of them. Then you did not scorn me, but came to me in dream to show yourself, and I learned that you, my elder brother, had been promoted. Alas, the worlds of light and dark are sundered, each at one end of the sky, and we may not meet face to face. Now our Emperor Taizong the Cultured has suddenly passed away, and I reckon that with the trial of the three parties he must surely meet with you. I earnestly beg that you will look back upon the friendship of our lifetimes and show some small convenience, letting my sovereign return to the world of light. This would be a great kindness to me. I shall send further thanks hereafter. I cannot write all I would say."
When the judge had read the letter, his heart was full of joy. "The affair of Wei Zheng beheading the old dragon in a dream some days ago," he said, "your servant knew of long since, and one could never exhaust praise of him. He has, moreover, shown kindness morning and evening to my children and grandchildren. Now that his letter has come, let Your Majesty set your heart at ease. Your servant will personally see Your Majesty returned to the world of light, to mount the jade steps of the palace once more." Taizong thanked him.
While the two were speaking, they saw on the other side a pair of youths in blue robes holding banners and precious canopies, calling loudly: "The Kings of Darkness invite you! Invite you!"
Taizong then walked forward together with Judge Cui and the two youths. Suddenly they came upon a city, and on its gate hung a great placard bearing seven large characters of gold: "The Ghost Gate Pass of the Dark Underworld." The blue-robed youths shook out their banners and led Taizong straight into the city, along the streets.
There by the roadside he saw his late father Li Yuan and his elder brother the late Crown Prince Jiancheng and his brother the late Prince Yuanji, who came forward crying: "Shimin has come! Shimin has come!"
Then Jiancheng and Yuanji rushed up to seize him and beat him, demanding his life. Taizong had no time to dodge, and they caught hold of him. Fortunately Judge Cui summoned a ghost messenger with a green face and boar-like tusks, who shouted Jiancheng and Yuanji back, and only then could Taizong free himself and go on. After some few li they came upon a towered building of glazed green tiles, truly magnificent. Just look:
Ten thousand folds of rainbow clouds heaped, drifting; A thousand ribbons of red mist emerging, half-seen. The gleaming eaves fly up in monster heads; The shining tiles overlap in shards of mandarin-duck green. The doors are studded with row upon row of red-gold nails; The thresholds laid with a single band of white jade. The windows, near the light, give off the mist of dawn; The curtained lattice, flashing bright, admits red lightning. Lofty towers rise to touch the azure sky; Level colonnades stretch on, joining the precious courts. From the beast-shaped censers clouds of incense greet the imperial robes; Beneath crimson gauze the lamps illume the palace fans.
On the left, fierce figures ranged—heads of oxen; On the right, looming forms arrayed—faces of horses. Golden tablets pass to speed the dead away; White silk streamers hang, to summon souls and guide them in. This is called the general gate of all the Underworld's realm: The Hall of Senluo, where King Yama sits below.
While Taizong was gazing from outside, he heard, from that quarter, the tinkling of jade pendants and a strange immortal fragrance, and there were two pairs of candle-bearers; behind them came the Ten Kings of the Underworld, descending the steps to greet him. Those ten kings were King Qinguang, King Chujiang, King Songdi, King Wuguan, King Yama, King Pingdeng, King Taishan, King Dushi, King Biancheng, and King Zhuanlun. The Ten Kings came out from the precious Hall of Senluo, bowed with bent backs, and welcomed Taizong. Taizong demurred humbly, not daring to walk ahead.
The Ten Kings said: "Your Majesty is a king of men in the world of light; we are kings of ghosts in the world of darkness. That each should take his proper place is only right—why stand on ceremony?"
Taizong said: "I stand guilty before your courts; how dare I speak of the dues of light and dark, of men and ghosts?" Still he yielded and yielded. Then Taizong walked ahead, went straight up into the Hall of Senluo, exchanged courtesies with the Ten Kings, and they sat down, host and guest in their places.
After a little while, King Qinguang raised his hands and addressed him: "The ghost-dragon of the Jing River accused Your Majesty of promising to save him and then killing him nonetheless. How was this?"
Taizong said: "I did indeed dream one night that the old dragon begged for rescue, and I truly promised him no harm. I did not expect that his crime deserved death, and that it fell to my minister Wei Zheng, the officer of human justice, to behead him. I had summoned Wei Zheng to the palace to play chess, and knew not that he beheaded the dragon in a dream. This was the uncanny cunning of that officer of human justice at work, and the dragon's own crime deserving death. How could it be my fault?" When the Ten Kings heard this, they bowed and said: "Before ever that dragon was born, it was set down in the death-register of the Southern Dipper that he should meet death at the hand of an officer of human justice; we knew it long ago. But because he kept disputing it here, insisting that Your Majesty come for the three-party confrontation, we sent him into the Wheel of Rebirth, and he has been reborn. Now we have troubled Your Majesty to come here; we beg you forgive the offense of our pressing invitation."
When they had finished speaking, they ordered the judge who kept the Register of Life and Death: "Bring the register quickly, and let us see what span of allotted life and heavenly stipend remains to Your Majesty."
Judge Cui hurried to the registry office and took out the master register of the allotted stipends of the kings of all the nations under heaven, examining it page by page. There, for the Emperor Taizong of the Great Tang in the Southern Continent of Jambudvipa, was written: "Zhenguan, thirteenth year." Judge Cui was startled. He snatched up a great brush loaded with thick ink, added two strokes over the character "one," and then presented the register.
The Ten Kings read it through from the beginning, and finding under Taizong's name "allotted thirty-three years," King Yama asked in surprise: "How many years has Your Majesty been upon the throne?"
Taizong said: "It is now thirteen years since I ascended the throne." The king said: "Let Your Majesty set his heart at ease and be untroubled; there remain twenty years of your span in the world of light. Now that this matter has been tried and made clear, we beg you return to your body and to life." Hearing this, Taizong bowed and gave thanks. The Ten Kings dispatched Judge Cui and Marshal Zhu to escort the emperor back to life.
As Taizong left the Hall of Senluo, he raised his hands once more and asked the Ten Kings: "Are the old and young of my palace well?"
The Ten Kings said: "All are well—only we fear your imperial sister's span of life may not be long." Taizong bowed again and said: "When I return to the world of light, I have nothing with which to repay you but melons and fruit." The Ten Kings said with pleasure: "We have plenty of winter melons and watermelons here; we lack only pumpkins." Taizong said: "When I return I shall send them at once—send them at once." And thereupon they saluted one another and parted.
The marshal held a soul-summoning banner and led the way in front; Judge Cui followed, protecting Taizong, and they went straight out of the Department of Darkness.
Taizong raised his eyes and looked: this was not the old road. He asked the judge: "Is this road not wrong?" The judge said: "It is not wrong. Such is the way in the Underworld: there is a road for going, but none for coming back. Now we are escorting Your Majesty out by way of the Wheel of Rebirth—first, that Your Majesty may tour and observe the Underworld; second, that Your Majesty may learn how souls are sent to rebirth." Taizong could only follow the two of them as they led the way forward.
After some few li, they suddenly came upon a high mountain, its somber clouds hanging to the ground, its black fog filling the sky. Taizong said: "Master Cui, what mountain is that yonder?" The judge said: "That is the Shade-side Mountain of the nether world." Taizong said in dread: "How can I pass through there?" The judge said: "Let Your Majesty be at ease; your servants will guide you." Trembling and quaking, Taizong followed the two of them up onto the mountain crags, and raised his head to look. Just look:
Its form all hollows and humps, its character yet more rugged— Steep as the ridges of Shu, high as the cliffs of Lu. No famous mountain of the world of light is this, But a perilous land, the very floor of Hell. Thickets of brambles harbor ghosts and monsters; Jagged cliffs of rock conceal a throng of fiends. About the ear no sound of beast or bird; Before the eyes only the walking of ghost-demons. A chill wind sighs and hisses; a black fog rolls and spreads. The chill wind sighing—that is the smoke puffed from the mouths of spirit soldiers; The black fog rolling—that is the breath belched forth by lurking ghosts. Gaze where you will, no pleasing sight in all that waste; Look left or right, only the raging hosts of the dead.
There were mountains there, and peaks, and ridges, and caves, and ravines; but on the mountains no grass grew, the peaks did not pierce the sky, no travelers walked the ridges, the caves took in no clouds, and no water flowed in the ravines. Before the banks, nothing but wangliang goblins; below the ridges, hosts of demons and spirits. In the caves were gathered wild ghosts; at the ravines' bottom lurked wicked souls. Before the mountain and behind it, ox-heads and horse-faces clamored and shouted; half-hidden, half-appearing, hungry ghosts and destitute souls wept face to face.
The life-hastening judge, in a fluster, passed his writs of summons; the soul-pursuing marshal, with shouts and cries, hurried on his documents. The fleet-footed runners—whirlwinds rolling and tumbling; the soul-arresting clerks—black fog in scattering clouds.
Taizong passed the Shade-side Mountain wholly under the judge's protection.
Going forward, they passed many government offices, and from every one came sounds of grief that pierced the ear and monstrous horrors that chilled the heart. Taizong asked again: "What place is this?" The judge said: "These are the Eighteen Layers of Hell behind the Shade-side Mountain." Taizong said: "Which eighteen layers?" The judge said: "Listen while I tell you:
The Tendon-Pulling Hell, the Wrongful-Death Hell, the Fire-Pit Hell—silent, desolate, fretful, despairing; all of them made a thousand evils while alive, and after death are brought here to suffer their sentence. The Fengdu Hell, the Tongue-Ripping Hell, the Flaying Hell—weeping and wailing, piteous and grim, because they were disloyal and unfilial and wounded the principles of Heaven, with a Buddha's mouth and a serpent's heart they fell into this gate.
The Grinding Hell, the Pestling Hell, the Chariot-Dismemberment Hell—skin split open, flesh gashed, teeth set and lips awry—for they cheated their own hearts and wronged themselves, dealing crookedly, and with honeyed words and flowery speech secretly injured others. The Ice Hell, the Husk-Shedding Hell, the Bowel-Drawing Hell—faces filthy, hair matted, brows knitted, eyes narrowed—all because they cheated the simple with big measures and small scales, and so brought calamity upon themselves. The Boiling-Oil Hell, the Pitch-Dark Hell, the Knife-Mountain Hell—shuddering, trembling, grieving, and mourning—because they used violence against the good and the gentle, and now crouch with hidden heads and shrunken necks in bitter loneliness.
The Blood-Pool Hell, the Avici Hell, the Balance-Beam Hell—skin peeled from bone, arms broken, sinews snapped—all because they schemed for wealth and murdered for it, slaughtering beasts and butchering living things; sunk a thousand years, past all reprieve; drowned forever, never to rise again. One and all, bound fast and locked, wound with ropes and cords—and see the red-haired ghosts and black-faced ghosts with long spears and short swords; ox-head ghosts and horse-face ghosts with iron maces and bronze hammers, beating them till their brows are knit and their faces writhing, streaming blood, crying to Heaven and Earth with none to answer.
Truly: In this life, never wrong your own heart; when gods and ghosts shine forth so manifest, whom do they let slip by? Good and evil, at the end, always meet their due—only the time differs, early or late."
Hearing this, Taizong was appalled and sick at heart.
Going forward a little way, they saw a band of ghost soldiers, each holding banners, who knelt by the roadside and said: "The Bridge Envoys have come to receive you." The judge ordered them to rise, led Taizong forward, and they crossed over a golden bridge. Taizong saw also, off to the other side, a silver bridge, upon which walked the loyal and filial, the worthy and good, the just and upright, likewise receiving banners of welcome. And in the other quarter there was yet another bridge, where a chill wind rolled and blood-waves surged, and the sound of wailing never ceased.
Taizong asked: "What is that bridge called?"
The judge said: "Your Majesty, that is called the Bridge of the River of Helplessness. When you return to the world of light, you must tell of it. Beneath that bridge there are only these:
Waters rushing, vast and surging; a road perilous, narrow and sheer. Just like a bolt of white silk laid across the Long River, Or a fire-pit floating up into the upper world. Its yin air chills a man to the bone; Its reeking wind assails the nose, its stench bores into the heart. Waves roll and billows toss—no ferry for the living ever crosses; Barefoot, unkempt—the ghosts of their own deeds pass to and fro. The bridge is several li in length, but only a few finger-widths wide; A hundred feet it rises, a thousand fathoms deep. Above, no railing for the hand; Below, monsters waiting to seize their prey.
Shackled and cangued, they are driven onto the perilous road of the River of Helplessness. Look how fierce the spirit generals stand beside that bridge; how bitterly the sinful souls within the river suffer. On the forked trees hang garments of silk, blue, red, yellow, and purple; before the wall-like cliffs crouch the wanton and shrewish wives who cursed their parents-in-law. Bronze serpents and iron dogs fight over them for food; forever drowned in the River of Helplessness, they have no way out."
The poem says:
Now and again are heard the ghosts' laments and spirits' cries; Blood-water, turbid waves, rise ten thousand fathoms high. Beyond all count, ox-heads and horse-faces grimly stand, Guarding the Bridge of the River of Helplessness.
While they were speaking, those Bridge Envoys had already gone back. Taizong's heart was startled and anxious; he nodded, sighed in secret, and mourned silently as he followed the judge and the marshal, and they passed beyond the evil waters of the River of Helplessness, that bitter realm of the blood basin.
Going on, they came to the City of Those Who Died Unjustly, and heard a great hubbub of voices clamoring, distinctly crying: "Li Shimin has come! Li Shimin has come!"
At the sound, Taizong's heart froze and his gall trembled. A throng of ghosts—some dragging broken backs, some with folded arms, some with feet but no heads—came forward and blocked the way.
They all shouted: "Give us back our lives! Give us back our lives!"
Taizong was so frightened that he dodged this way and that, crying only: "Master Cui, save me! Master Cui, save me!" The judge said: "Your Majesty, those are the ghost-souls of the sixty-four uprisings and the seventy-two bands of bandits—princes and chieftains of the rebel hosts. All died unjust deaths; their grievances are unredressed, they have no one to govern or gather them, they cannot attain rebirth, and they have no money for their journey—they are lonely, cold, hungry ghosts. If Your Majesty will distribute some silver among them, then I can save you." Taizong said: "I have come here empty-handed; where would I get money?" The judge said: "Your Majesty, there is a man in the world of light who has deposited a sum of gold and silver here in our Department of Darkness. If Your Majesty will sign a note in your own name, this humble judge will stand surety; borrow one storehouse of his funds and scatter it among these hungry ghosts—only then can you pass." Taizong asked: "Who is this man?" The judge said: "He is a man of Kaifeng Prefecture in Henan, named Xiang Liang. He has thirteen storehouses of gold and silver here. If Your Majesty borrows from his stores, you need only repay him when you return to the world of light." Taizong was much pleased and willingly signed for the loan.
So they drew up the document, which was given to the judge, and one storehouse of Xiang Liang's gold and silver was borrowed; the marshal was ordered to distribute it all.
The judge then instructed the ghosts: "This gold and silver you may divide equally among yourselves for your expenses. Let the Grand Sire of the Great Tang pass. His span in the world of light still runs long. I bear the command of the Ten Kings to see him back to life, and he will hold a Mass of Land and Water in the world of light, to deliver you all to rebirth. Make no more trouble."
When the ghosts heard this and had received the gold and silver, they all bowed and withdrew. The judge ordered the marshal to shake out the soul-summoning banner and lead Taizong out of the City of Those Who Died Unjustly; they hastened onto the broad level highway and went drifting away.
After traveling forward a good while, they came to the place of the "Six Paths of Rebirth," and there he saw cloud-riders draped in rosy capes, those who had received registers with golden fishes at their girdles, monks and nuns, Daoists and laymen, beasts that walked and birds that flew, demons of hill and stream—all streaming, all hastening beneath that wheel of rebirth, each entering into its own path.
The King of Tang asked: "What does this mean?" The judge said: "Your Majesty, with clear heart and awakened nature, you must remember this and pass it on to be known by those in the world of light. This is called the Six Paths of Rebirth. Those who do good rise and are transformed into the way of immortals; the utterly loyal are reborn into the way of nobility; the filial are born again into the way of blessing; the just and fair are reborn into the way of humankind; those who store up virtue pass into the way of wealth; the vicious and venomous sink down into the way of ghosts." When the King of Tang heard this, he nodded and sighed:
"Excellent, truly excellent! To do good is in truth to be free of calamity! Let the heart of goodness be ever earnest, And the way of good will open wide. Do not let wicked thoughts arise; Take care to shun the cunning and the perverse. Say not that there is no retribution— Gods and ghosts have made their plans."
The judge escorted the King of Tang straight to the gate of "Rebirth into the Way of Nobility," and bowed, calling to him: "Your Majesty, this is the place of your deliverance. This humble judge takes his leave; I shall have Marshal Zhu escort you one stage further." The King of Tang thanked him: "I am obliged to you, sir, for so long a walk." The judge said: "When Your Majesty returns to the world of light, be sure, be sure to hold a Mass of Land and Water, to deliver all those masterless, wronged souls—do not forget. Only if there are no sounds of grievance in the Department of Darkness may the world of light enjoy the blessing of peace. Whatever is not good, amend it, one thing and another. Proclaim to all the world that they should do good, and I warrant that your descendants will endure long and your rivers and mountains stand forever firm." The King of Tang assented to every point, took leave of Judge Cui, and followed Marshal Zhu as they entered the gate together.
Inside the gate the marshal saw a dun sea-horse, saddle and housings all complete, and at once invited the King of Tang to mount, the marshal supporting him on either side. The horse sped like an arrow, and they soon reached the banks of the Wei River, where Taizong saw upon the water a pair of golden carp leaping and tumbling in the waves. At the sight his heart was delighted, and he reined his horse to gaze, unable to tear himself away.
The marshal said: "Your Majesty, bestir yourself—let us hasten and make the city gates while the hour is early."
But the King of Tang only gazed on, unwilling to go forward—until the marshal seized him by the feet, crying loudly: "Will you not go? What are you waiting for!"—and with a splash pushed him from his horse into the Wei River; and thus he slipped free of the Department of Darkness and returned straight to the world of light.
Now the King of Tang had beneath his throne such ministers as Xu Maogong, Qin Shubao, Hu Jingde, Duan Zhixian, Ma Sanbao, Cheng Yaojin, Gao Shilian, Li Shiji, Fang Xuanling, Du Ruhui, Xiao Yu, Fu Yi, Zhang Daoyuan, Zhang Shiheng, and Wang Gui—civil and military officials in their two ranks—all attending the crown prince of the Eastern Palace together with the empress, the consorts, the palace ladies, and the chief stewards, all mourning in the White Tiger Hall.
In one quarter they were deliberating to proclaim the edict of mourning, to make it known throughout the realm, and to set the crown prince upon the throne.
Then Wei Zheng, who was at the side, said: "Gentlemen, wait! It must not be! It must not be! If the prefectures and counties are alarmed and stirred, who knows what calamity may arise? Wait yet another day, and our sovereign will assuredly return to life."
At this Xu Jingzong stepped forward from below: "What Lord Wei says is utterly mistaken. Since antiquity it has been said: 'Spilled water cannot be gathered up again; the dead do not return.' How can you still utter such empty words to confuse the hearts of men? What sense is there in it?" Wei Zheng said: "I will hide nothing from you, Master Xu. From my youth I was taught the arts of the immortals, and my reckonings are most exact. I will guarantee that His Majesty does not die."
Even as they spoke, from within the coffin came shout after shout: "I've been drowned! I've been drowned!" The civil officials and military commanders were frightened out of their wits, and the empress and consorts trembled with terror. Every one of them:
Faces like mulberry leaves after autumn; Waists like willow shoots before the spring. The heir apparent's legs gave way—he could not lean on the staff of mourning to perform the rites; The chief stewards' souls took flight—how could they don the mourning caps and follow filial custom? The consorts stumbled and fell; the ladies-in-waiting reeled and tilted. The consorts stumbling—like beaten lotus flowers toppled by a gale; The ladies reeling—like tender lilies askew beneath a sudden rain. The ministers stood aghast, their bones gone soft, their sinews numb; Trembling, quaking, speechless, dazed.
The whole White Tiger Hall was like a bridge with a broken beam, and the mourning terrace like a temple in collapse.
By this time the palace folk had all fled away clean—who dared come near the coffin to support it?
It was thanks to the upright Xu Maogong, the stern and reasoned Chancellor Wei, the bold-hearted Qin Qiong, and the fiercely daring Jingde, who came forward and held the coffin steady, calling: "Your Majesty, if there is anything that still weighs upon your heart, tell it to us! Do not play tricks and terrify your family!"
Wei Zheng said: "He is not playing tricks. This is His Majesty returning to life! Quickly, bring tools!" They opened the lid of the coffin, and there in very truth sat Taizong within.
Still he was crying: "I was drowned! Who saved me?"
Maogong and the others came forward, lifted him up, and said: "Your Majesty, awake and fear not; your ministers are all here guarding your chariot." Only then did the King of Tang open his eyes and say: "Just now I suffered so bitterly: I escaped the peril of the evil ghosts of the Underworld, only to meet a drowning death upon the water." The ministers said: "Let Your Majesty's heart be at ease and unafraid—but what drowning was there?" The King of Tang said: "I was riding along and had just reached the banks of the Wei River, where I saw two double-headed fish at play; then Marshal Zhu, with wicked intent, pushed me from my horse, and I fell into the river and very nearly drowned." Wei Zheng said: "Your Majesty has not yet shaken off the ghostly air." He hastily ordered the Imperial Medical Academy to administer broths to calm the spirit and settle the soul, and had gruel and meals prepared.
Only after taking the potion once or twice did he come back to himself and know the affairs of men. Altogether the King of Tang had been dead three days and nights, and then returned to the world of light to reign. There is a poem in proof:
Since antiquity how many times have rivers and mountains changed, As dynasty after dynasty failed or flourished? The Zhou, Qin, Han, and Jin had many wonders— But who ever matched the King of Tang, who died and lived again?
That day the light was already failing, and the ministers begged the king to retire to his chambers, and each went his way. Early the next morning they doffed their mourning clothes and donned court dress—every man in red robe and black cap, every man with purple ribbons and golden seals—and waited outside the palace gates for the summons to audience.
Now Taizong, having taken the spirit-settling potion and swallowed several servings of broth and gruel, had been helped by his ministers into his bedchamber, where he slept soundly through the night, nursing his strength, and did not rise until dawn. Then he shook out his dignity and majesty. Just look at how he was attired:
On his head a crown that towers to heaven; On his body an ochre-yellow robe. Round his waist a belt of Lantian's jasper green; On his feet the shoes of the founding, free of care. Majestic of visage, he outshines the court of any age; Fierce of dignity, he founds the dynasty anew this day. A very sovereign of the Great Tang, enlightened and well-governed— His Majesty Li, returned from death to life!
The King of Tang ascended the golden chime-bell throne hall, assembled his civil and military officials in their two ranks, received the mountain-shout of homage, and ranged them by grade in their places.
The proclamation was heard: "Let those with business come forward from the ranks to memorialize; let those without retire from court."
From the east side stepped forth Xu Maogong, Wei Zheng, Wang Gui, Du Ruhui, Fang Xuanling, Yuan Tiangang, Li Chunfeng, Xu Jingzong, and others; from the west side stepped forth Yin Kaishan, Liu Hongji, Ma Sanbao, Duan Zhixian, Cheng Yaojin, Qin Shubao, Hu Jingde, Xue Rengui, and others. Together they advanced, prostrated themselves before the white-jade steps, and memorialized: "Your Majesty's dream of late—why did you wake from it only after so long a time?" Taizong said: "Some days ago I received Wei Zheng's letter, and then felt my spirit leave the palace. I saw the imperial guards inviting me out to the hunt; but as I went along, the men and horses vanished without trace. Then I saw my late father and my brothers of old quarreling and struggling. Just when the matter could not be resolved, there appeared a man in a black cap and dark robe—Judge Cui Jue—who shouted my brothers back. I passed Wei Zheng's letter over to him. While he read it, youths in blue robes appeared, holding banners, who led me within, up to the Hall of Senluo, where I took my seat in company with the Ten Kings of the Underworld. They spoke of the Jing River dragon's false accusation—that I had promised to save him and then killed him—and I set forth the whole affair from the beginning. They said the three-party case had already been tried, and at once ordered the Register of Life and Death brought, to examine the span of my life. Judge Cui handed up the register; the kings read it and said I had thirty-three years of heavenly stipend, of which only thirteen had passed, leaving me still twenty years of life. They then ordered Marshal Zhu and Judge Cui to escort me back. I took leave of the Ten Kings, and promised to send them melons and fruit in thanks. From the time I left the Hall of Senluo, I saw in the Department of Darkness the disloyal and unfilial, the improper and unrighteous, those who wasted the five grains, cheated openly and deceived in secret, used big measures and small scales, committed adultery, theft, fraud, and falsehood, lewdness, lying, and deceit—all suffering grinding, burning, pounding, and filing, boiled in cauldrons, strung up and flayed—thousands upon myriads of them, and still I could not see enough. Then I passed through the City of Those Who Died Unjustly, where countless wronged souls—all the bandit hosts of the sixty-four uprisings and the spirits of the rebels of the seventy-two bands—blocked my road. Thanks to Judge Cui's surety, I borrowed one storehouse of gold and silver from old Xiang of Henan, and with it bought the ghost-souls over, and only then could I go forward. Judge Cui instructed me that on my return to the world of light I must by all means hold a Mass of Land and Water, to deliver those masterless souls—these were his parting words of admonition. Then, beneath the Six Paths of Rebirth, Marshal Zhu invited me to mount a horse, and swift as flight we traveled to the banks of the Wei River, where I saw the double-headed fish playing on the water. Just as I was delighting in the sight, he seized my feet and pushed me into the water—and so I returned to life." When the ministers heard this account, all offered congratulations. Dispatches were sent far and wide, and the officials of every prefecture and county in the realm sent up memorials of felicitation—but of this no more.
Now Taizong further issued an edict pardoning the criminals of the realm, and examined the capital felons in the prisons. The examining officers submitted a list of more than four hundred men under sentence of hanging or beheading in the Ministry of Justice. Taizong pardoned them and sent them home, to take leave of their parents and brothers, entrust their property to relatives, sons, and nephews, and return to the courts on this day of next year to receive the punishments they had earned. The convicts thanked him for his grace and withdrew. He also posted proclamations of relief for orphans, and examined the palace rolls, where the young and old ladies-in-waiting numbered three thousand in all, and issued an edict giving them in marriage to the soldiers. From then on, within and without, all was goodness.
There is a poem in proof:
The King of Tang, great sovereign, boundless in grace, Surpassed Yao and Shun, and the people flourished. Four hundred convicts left the prisons for their homes; Three thousand resentful maidens left the palace. Officials everywhere hailed the sovereign's long life; The ministers at court congratulated the dragon sublime. One single thought of good—and Heaven blesses it; Its shelter shall extend through seventeen generations.
When Taizong had thus released the palace ladies and pardoned the condemned, he further issued a proclamation of his own composition, to be posted throughout the realm. It read:
"Vast are Heaven and Earth; the sun and moon shine upon all with clear discernment. Broad is the universe; Heaven and Earth will not tolerate factions of the wicked. Employ the heart, use the arts—the retribution falls within this very life; do good and seek but little, and speak not of blessings in a life to come. A thousand clever schemes are not so good as honest dealing as a man; ten thousand kinds of tyranny can never match contentment and thrift, taking life as it comes. If the heart acts with charity and mercy, what need to strive at reading the sutras? If the intent is to injure others, in vain will you read a whole canon of the Tathagata!"
From that time forth, throughout the realm there was not one man who did not do good. At the same time a proclamation was posted inviting worthy men to carry melons and fruit down to the Department of Darkness; and from the treasury one storehouse of gold and silver was dispatched, with Hu Jingde, Duke of E, sent to Kaifeng Prefecture in Henan to seek out Xiang Liang and repay the debt. The proclamation had hung for several days when there appeared a worthy man who would give his life to present the melons, a native of Junzhou, named Liu Quan, whose family owned ten thousand strings of cash.
It happened that his wife, Li Cuilian, had once pulled a golden hairpin from her hair at the front gate to give as alms to a monk, and Liu Quan had scolded her for it, saying she did not keep a wife's proper ways and had gone boldly out of the women's chambers. Unable to swallow her anger, Li hanged herself and died. She left behind a young son and daughter, who wept day and night. Liu Quan could not bear to see it, and, having no other recourse, gave up his own life: he abandoned home and property, left his children, and willingly offered his death to carry the melons. He took down the imperial proclamation and came before the King of Tang.
The king gave orders that he be sent to the Gold Pavilion Hostelry, where he was to balance a pair of pumpkins on his head, carry yellow paper money in his sleeves, and hold poison in his mouth.
Liu Quan duly took the poison and died, and one point of living soul, bearing the melons and fruit on his head, arrived at the Ghost Gate Pass.
The ghost messengers guarding the gate shouted: "What man are you, that you dare come to this place?"
Liu Quan said: "I bear the imperial dispatch of the Emperor Taizong of the Great Tang, and have come especially to present melons and fruit for the enjoyment of the Ten Kings of the Underworld." The ghost messengers gladly received and led him in.
Liu Quan went straight to the precious Hall of Senluo, saw the kings of darkness, and presented the melons and fruit, saying: "By the command of the King of Tang, I have come from afar to present melons and fruit, in thanks for the grace of your forbearance, you Ten Kings."
The kings were greatly pleased, saying: "Truly an emperor of faith and virtue, this Taizong of the Great Tang!" So they accepted the melons and fruit, and asked the melon-bearer his name and whence he came.
Liu Quan said: "Your humble servant is a registered commoner of Junzhou city, named Liu Quan. Because my wife, née Li, hanged herself, she left our children behind with no one to care for them. Your servant was willing to give up home and children, to lay down his body in service to his sovereign, and so came especially to offer melons in tribute to my king, in thanks for the great kindness of you great kings."
When the Ten Kings heard this, they at once ordered an inquiry into the whereabouts of Liu Quan's wife, née Li. The ghost messengers swiftly brought her before the Hall of Senluo, where husband and wife were reunited. They told over all that had passed, and together gave thanks for the Ten Kings' merciful forbearance. Then King Yama consulted the Register of Life and Death, and found that the husband and wife both had the lifespan of those destined to become immortals; he hastily dispatched ghost messengers to send them back.
The ghost messengers announced: "Li Cuilian has been in the world of the dead a long while; her body no longer exists. To what shall her soul attach itself?"
The king said: "Li Yuying, the imperial sister of the Tang, is due to die before her time. You may borrow her body, and let her return to life in it." The ghost messengers received the command and at once restored husband and wife to life, and the two left the Department of Darkness together.
But whether you would know how that husband and wife returned to life—listen to the explanation in the next chapter.