As the story goes, Bonze Dan was confronted with a stone bridge made slick by rain on this, his third Duan Wu Day attempt, but he suddenly came up with a plan. Laying down that Waltzing Matilda of his and strapping the roll of finely wrapped paper onto his back he crouched down on all fours and placed his hands on the bridge. Now of course, down on the sides were a few rough and uneven spots, not as smooth as the top surface, where he could get a foothold and propel hmself across and in a moment the bridge was behind him. Bonze Dan clasped his hands to his body, thanked Heaven and Earth and was up and running toward White Cloud Cave.

Once inside and infront of that jade incense burner he fell upon his knees and kowtowed, begging. "Take pity on a poor monk!" he prayed. "Three times now I've come here. Please, oh holy spirits, hand me your secrets! Surely will I assist Heaven and always walk the right path, and if I do evil may Heaven cause me and the entire world to perish!"

Having so pleaded he entered the stone room, spread out his cloth bundle and removed the papers, spreading them out on the ground and piling them in numerical order. And from the beginning of the script on the right wall he began taking the mysterious rubbings, picking up the sheets and placing them against the writing on the wall and firmly wiping his hand across the backs, thirteen pages in all, finally bending a corner of each to note its copying before before placing it in a new pile.

And then he turned his attentions to the right hand wall, and copied it as well, producing another 24 pages before he sensed that fragrance once more coming from the incense burner. There remained yet one more segment on the back wall but there was no time for any more rubbings. He frantically scooped up the thirty-seven pages he had copied, rolling them up as one and wrapping them in that fine cloth. Hastily tossing aside the unused paper he he rushed out of the stone chamber just as the jade burner began emitting great billows of smoke. And dashing out of the cave he strapped that cloth roll right to his back in mid-run, eyes straight ahead, and with hands and feet fairly flew across that slippery-faced twenty-foot-long by one-foot-wide stone bridge just like a monkey sailing through the trees. As with his previous forays here, he sure was slow in coming but fast in leaving!

Bonze Dan was doubly happy this time, having escaped danger with something to show for his time and trouble as well. After retrieving his cudgel he lengthened his stride and before long arrived back at his straw hut. Before even catching his breath he flung open the roll of paper for a look, only to receive a shock. For back in the shadows of the cave in his frantic haste the characters seemed to be copying as black as the originals, but now the pages were blank. Could nothing at all have been copied? He examined every sheet in disbelief; they were indeed all like this. Now Bonze Dan was struck blind and dumb, arms paralized and legs like jelly; his sense of failure was truly indescribable. For some time he had visions of Gods and spirits and seemed entranced, totally oblivious to his surroundings. Having thrice suffered so and all for naught he could see nothing at all to feel good about; it was as if he had wasted his entire life on a doomed effort. Truly and totally bitter and depressed he he felt a pain in his heart and burst forth in tears like torrents of pearls, wailing in grief. And so crying he wandered toward that clear mountain pond where he sought to end his life. But before going very far he met that same white-haired old man.

"It's too painful to talk about," whined Bonze Dan, his tearful face contorted in grief and agony. "It wasn't fated to work out and the paper is as bare as when I left. I didn't get anything. Only death awaits after a failed life like this!" And having said that his tears fell like rain.

"Now, now, young monk, this really isn't such a tragedy. Why, it's not even so clear that you've failed to be granted a copy. Just think; you know very well that they aren't transmitted by brush and ink, so why are you expecting to find such characters printed on the paper?"

"What do you mean by that?" asked Bonze Dan in great surprise.

"Heaven's writing is different from worldly script. Sunlight obviously belongs to Yang and lacks Yin. So Yin is concealed under brightness because it's overwhelmed by dominant Yang. Now, if you want to determine if the writings were fated to be yours just wait until a couple of hours before midnight and go out into a field broadly lit from a full moon, with no one else around. Hold the pages up to the moon and in its soft light the secret charms will appear in green. Only then will you know if you were destined to get them."

Bonze Dan seemed to awaken as if pulled back from the the opening dreams of eternal sleep. "I'll do as you say," he answered, "but I don't know what the moon's going to be like tonight."

"The light is insufficient during this first ten days of the month. Wait til the five nights between the eleventh and the fifteenth and it should be bright enough to see the charms, provided you've followed the instructions, and you'll be able to brush them in with ink. I'll come to see you again just before the time comes."

Bonze Dan couldn't find the words of thanks,and the old man turned and vanished in a flash. Our monk couldn't have been more pleased as he returned to the hut, regathering the scattered sheets from the earthen floor and placing them in two files, one for each wall, East and West, each arranged by numerical order and each wrapped up in cloth for safe keeping. Then when the eleventh night arrived he did as the elder had instructed, preparing a bottleful of ink and carrying everything up to a broad, flat clearing atop a high mountain where he opened the cloth and layed its contents out on the ground. Picking up the pages of rubbings from the left wall and holding them up facing the moon he was quite shocked to find no traces of writing, just as before. But forcing himself to stay calm he began scanning the pages taken from the right wall. Sure enough, shadowy Yin-laden green characters that he could only about half recognize appeared about the size of copper coins in a foreboding and powerful script.

Filled with joy at his achievement he set himself to his next assignment. Taking brush in hand he inked in those glowing letters on the paper until the moon sank in the western late-night sky and its light became too dim. Then he packed up and left to return the next night, and as the entire five-night period was clear he continued his work without pause, illuminating the hidden Yin letters in the moonlight and inking them permanently until the entire job was done and he'd wrapped up the last of the finished sheets in that cloth.

Back in the straw hut he was unable to sleep. "I wonder if any other mortal has ever seen these words," he thought. "And that old hermit promised to meet me again before I went out but he never showed up, leaving me to do my best on my own." By the fifth watch he had finally fallen asleep when what should enter his dreams but a voice from outside, very much like that old man's, calling:

Bonze Dan leapt up from his sleep. "Who is Holy Auntie?" he blurted out, dashing out of the hut. The sky was already pink with dawn's light; when he leapt outside for a look he found no one. "How strange," he thought; "I'm sure I heard somebody. How could he have disappeared?" Then he thought for a moment. "I've got it!" he went on. "Why, that old man was a tranformation of the White Ape God. He took pity on my sincere search for the Way and and came here twice to help me when I was lost. And tonight he shouted his advice to me in my dreams, why, yes, of course that's it, and there certainly must be a 'Holy Auntie' somewhere who can explain Heaven's writings, only I just don't know where she might be. Well, wherever she is, I'll find her no matter how long it takes, even if I have to travel to the ends of the earth. There's sure no use sitting like a trapper in this useless hut!"

At this point he stuffed the cloth tubeful of documents into his sack, finished his breakfast of baked rice and again tied that bag to the end of the long staff. Then with his cudgel he shuffled some glowing coals from the earthen firepit onto a broad pine branch which he then used to throw them onto the roof of the grass hut, setting it afire. And while walking away he only stared back at the blazing hut, truly rash and selfish in treating that dwelling as if it had only been fated to help him for a short while. And here's a poem about it:

Now there was a stiff northeasterly wind and it whipped up the hungry flames until they had completely consumed the roof of that little hut. And with a sharp report the roof beam snapped and fell to earth pointing to the northwest. "It sure is strange, huh," thought Bonze Dan, " wind blowing toward the south and that hut's roofbeam falling back toward the north. North by northwest, why that's the direction of the pass where our Emperor has built the capital, bustling with the different races of humanity. Perhaps I'll yet find out where Holy Auntie is."

Then kneeling in the direction of White Cloud Cave he kowtowed thankfully in parting to the White Ape God and set off in long strides toward the north. Now, later people have got a poem devoted to Bonze Dan's three attempts at seeking the Dao and it goes like this:

As the story goes Bonze Dan trekked forth into the rolling countryside of Neixiang County. This being early July the weather was scorching hot, and he realized that only a fan to cool himself with would be just what he needed. In a stroke of good timing he came upon a fanseller's shop. Now, in those times folding fans were not yet in widespread use and the shop sold only the five types of fan then fashionable. What were they? Well, your paper and silk round fan, black and white feather fan, thin bamboo and paper fan, and two types of palm fan, China palm and banana palm. He loudly disapproved of the feather fans, complaining that he couldn't write characters on them and that the round fans weren't suitable for a holy man to hold. But if he were to buy a thin bamboo framed paper fan, he thought, he could write the three characters for "Visit Holy Aunt" on it, and anyone passing in the road who knew of her could then hail him and perhaps even tell him the way. So he called into the shop for the assistant to come out and show him some bamboo fans. Selecting one that suited his fancy he settled on a price of five small silver coins and bought it.

Now, this shop had three partitions constructed in its back room, creating three study rooms complete with table and chairs for each. And each had a view through its window of the courtyard with quite a few stalks of bamboo growing. The tables had some writing implements, brushes and inkstones and the like laid out upon them, and Bonze Dan's eyes quickly fixed on that paraphenalia.

"Sorry to bother you but do you think I could use one of your brushes and stones to write something?" asked Bonze Dan.

"I suppose there's no harm in writing out here in front," answered the shop assistant, "as long as the boss is out." And he hurriedly went and brought a set to the counter where Bonze Dan quickly wet up a head of ink. But before he could lower his brush to write a loud voice could be heard in back.

"Who just took that brush and inkstone?"

"There's a holy man here who needs to borrow them to write something so I was just getting a set for him to use." Then he turned to Bonze Dan. "Hurry up, the owner is coming!"

There was no more shouting to be heard but a man wearing a long gown and a head wrapping emblazoned with swastikas sppeared from that space behind the shop. Seeing that Bonze Dan had just written "Visit Holy Aunt" on his new fan, he respectfully clasped his hands high in front and bowed in greeting. "Where is your holiness from," he asked, "and how come you want to see Holy Aunt?"

I'm out of the Yinghui Temple in Sizhou City. I've heard that Holy Aunt's got wide knowledge of the holy Way and so I've come seeking her."

"Why, Sizhou is in Lingnan. You mean to say they've heard of Holy Aunt that far away?"

Bonze Dan was astounded. "So," he hissed quietly through clenched teeth, "there is a Holy Aunt after all!" And then he addressed his host. "Have you, sir, actually met her?"

"I have indeed."

"Where is she now? Can I trouble you for directions?"

"Please come inside and be seated" said the master, gesturing toward the small study rooms at the rear. Bonze Dan entered one of the cubicles. Rudeness provokes Heaven's wrath. Please be seated May I pour out a cup of tea for your holiness to enjoy?" The master then joined him at the table.

Bonze Dan noticed the presence of some assorted books on the table. Now, among them was a particularly dog-eared and incomplete one, and he casually noted the title: "Handbook of Original Nature Terms". Thumbing through it, this passage caught his attention:

Bonze Dan was then lost in thought. "This here Neixiang County's got a Chrysanthemum Pond as well as the Red River. I've heard that really fragrant chrysanthemums grow on the cliffs around that little lake, and that those who drink its water live on to great longevity. But I didn't know that the Red River gave birth to such strange things. Why, if I'd mastered that magic earlier I sure wouldn't have have suffered that dunking at Luojia Manor!"

The arrival of a tray with two cups of fresh-brewed tea broke his train of thought. "Have some tea, holiness," his host said, putting it down on the table.

"All this fuss for me!" said Bonze Dan humbly, and the two men sat enjoying the hot drink.

"My surname's Qin, like the first emperor, and I've got a single first name, Heng. Last year when I made a pilgrimage to Mt Hua over in Huayin County I overheard folks talking about her in the streets. They were saying that the county's Deputy Magistrate Yang was sheltering a living Buddha in his home. 'How do you reckon she's a living Buddha?' I asked them, and they told me that the Yangs had procured a Golden Sutra and nobody but Holy Auntie could read it. They said Deputy Yang respected and worshipped her like a God and kept her in the west garden of his estate. Folks from counties all around mobbed the place seeking to worship her as their teacher, and once there they had a lot of fun as well in all the general gaiety. Pretty soon though the crowds got bigger and bigger and they closed the place to outsiders. I've heard that as of now she's been living there for over a year."

"Aside from reading Sanskrit has she mastered any real magic powers?"

"I've heard there are some mysterious things about her. She can go a whole month without eating and not feel hunger. And she often meets with Bodhisattvas but ordinary folks aren't allowed access to her. "

What did she look like when you saw her?"

"Like an ordinary old woman," answered Qin Heng, "but there's something about her looks, like, well, it's as if there's a certain sagely quality to her. If you go there, holiness, the biggest problem is that she might still be under lock and key. If you do get to see her don't be too brash about seeking the Way. Ask her if she can grant you a meeting a few days later."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," said Bonze Dan, "it seems like what I should do." And thanking his host for tea he asked about the road to Huayin County and was once more on his way.

After a short time on the road he asked someone the wherabouts of the Chyranthemum Pool and went directly there, finding it as pure and clear as promised. "Although the flowers aren't in bloom there's no mistaking it!" he marvelled. And after quaffing up a few mouthfuls of water he bared his body and had a bath, and then upon dressing afresh set out to find the Red River of legend. Now there was to be an extra Chinese month that summer. It was the twenty-first day of the fifth lunar month, corresponding to the twentieth of June, and the first day of summer was to be the second of the sixth Chinese month, ten days from then, the first of July. Bonze Dan saw the obvious good timing here and spent a night in a grass leanto, and next day bright and early, the tenth day before the first day of summer as specified in that old book of Original Nature Charms, he found himself standing by the bank of the Red River. How grand it looked! According to local histories it had once been a transport canal, and for this two or three li its fish were all red and its waters were undisturbed, hence the name. One could see that its fish were a breed apart, a miracle of nature. And because they were few in number, small and not very good to eat, there weren't any fishing boats in this section of the river.

Bonze Dan hiked up to the head of the waters and chartered a fishing boat. Then he bought some food and drink and enjoyed it with the old fisherman. "If I could trouble you to cast your nets and get me some of those red fish tonight I'll put on a real show for your enjoyment," he told the startled man.

"Just what kind of a show?" he asked warily.

"I simply take the blood of those red fish and smear it onto the soles of my feet. Then I utter a magic charm and with a "hi ho" I step right out onto the water just like it's dry land."

"We fishing folk could sure use a trick like that! Be sure and teach me how to cast that spell."

"That's no problem, as long as I get the fish."

By now the old man was feeling the wine and had forgotten to bring the net up from storage at the stern. His old wife was disgusted at his drunkeness and they had quite an argument, but finally the net appeared and was all laid out in tip-top condition.

"Stop for awhile!" shouted Bonze Dan just as they were ready to cast the net overboard. "I've just cast a spell on the waters. If you wait a minute the fish will all swarm around here and you'll be able to net them right up."

Then the two men sat chatting at the bow until the old fisherman, drowsy from drink, nodded off to sleep. Bonze Dan was surpised to see something breaking the surface of the water and heard a splashing sound as well but he couldn't see any flaming red. By as the night wore on and the moon rose higher in the east the fish came to reflect its light, appearing red like fire. He hurriedly awakened the old fisherman who threw in the net with a shout as if casting dice against hopeless odds. When he pulled it in there weren't many fish and upon tossing back the remainder scattered in fright. In all they caught perhaps ten head, and killing them yielded very little blood.

"I've got a mind to do something a bit naughty," thought Bonze Dan darkly; why not try out those instructions on this here fisherman? If it works I'll come back better prepared next year and I won't be late, either!" Then telling the old man to bare the soles of his feet he smeared them with the fishblood and pretended to mumble a chant, finally activating the spell with the Daoist command "Attack!" and telling the old fisherman to step out onto the surface of the river. Now, the old man was honest and gullible and jumped right down into the water, and with a loud "ker-plunk" and a mighty splash disappeared completely from sight.

The old fishwife had been watching from the stern and cried out in horror for Bonze Dan to rescue him; he hurriedly threw some deckside planks and bamboo pails into the river. Fortunately the old man was wise to the ways of the river and clambered back up over the stern. Husband and wife then ganged up on our monk and scolded him long and hard, demanding compensation while all he could get in were a few meek denials and apologies. The boat would cost a lump of silver with two more coins thrown to buy wine for treament of the old man's shock; he agreed and only then did they let him out of their clutches and allow him to land on the riverbank before sailing off.

"It's long been said that a little knowledge can be dangerous," whispered Bonze Dan beneath his breath; "maybe all the Daoist craft passed down since the beginning of time is just empty illusion. And even though after three tries I finally got those writings of Heaven from White Cloud Cave who knows if I can ever really know them, even after a lot of learning and careful study."

It was after all Bonze Dan's violent curiosity and impatience to learn the truth that led him to test out those instructions he found in the "Handbook of Original Nature Terms" and to make a fool of himself, even giving rise to doubts in his mind about the very secrets of Heaven that he had copied from the walls of White Cloud Cave. And here is a poem that tells it well:

In the blazing heat of the days that followed Bonze Dan passed by Mt Qiulin with its elegant rock formations and springs. "According to Qin Heng," he mused, "Holy Aunt is probably still under lock and key and it isn't all that certain that I'll be able to meet her or even to wait around until they open up the place. Why not avoid those problems and wait out the sixth lunar month, and when autumn's coolness comes I can continue on the journey and arrive just in time."

Now, in the Qiulin Temple the bonzes all took note of his fan with the three words "Visit Holy Aunt" written on it. Some of them didn't know of her and noisely enquired of our monk, while others who had heard of her explained to their colleagues about that old woman over in Huayin County. Bonze Dan listened carefully to the questions and opinions that they voiced. Click to Continue Table of ContentsBack to Homepage