Heaven-Subduing Scripture

Li Daoxuan made his resolve to fight to the death, but just then a cheer rose.

That feeling of being watched by a beast vanished in an instant.

Li Daoxuan breathed relief and walked toward the sound; past two bends he found a crowd gathered, seemingly watching a performance, crying praise now and then.

”Smash it, quick!”

”Master, what fine hard-qi!”

”Harder, put your back into it!”

…

Li Daoxuan edged in and found two monks, big and small, busking.

The big monk was broad-shouldered and stout, in a ragged kasaya, with kind eyes and a smiling face — much like the Maitreya enshrined in temples.

Now a great stone slab pressed upon his big belly; it looked heavy, and his face was bluish, somewhat breathless.

The small monk wore a plain blue robe; old but washed clean, he looked some fifteen or sixteen, with red lips and white teeth, handsome and clear — with hair he would be the very picture of a graceful youth.

The small monk was now straining to heave a hammer nearly taller than himself, smashing it down upon the slab on the big monk’s belly.

Bang, bang, bang…

As he smashed he muttered, ”Master, why won’t it break?”

The big monk beneath, face near purple, his fat all a-tremble, at last squeezed out a line.

”Which slab did you use?”

The small monk said a little sheepishly, ”Master, a monk should not deceive — I swapped in the broken slab.”

The big monk’s face went black, his lips quivered. ”You… scoundrel disciple!”

Answered by the small monk’s great stone hammer.

Boom!

The slab shattered; the small monk dropped the hammer, wiped the sweat from his brow, and — ignoring his fainted master — skillfully took up a broken alms-bowl and walked toward the onlookers.

”Good, wonderful!”

”Truly amazing!”

”Who knew Master Sanle also knows hard-qi — only why is he lying there motionless?”

Some, seeing the small monk approach with the bowl, hurried off.

But many still gave coins — few, almost a single copper each, just for the show.

And whatever was given, the small monk would softly intone a Buddha-name and bow deep.

Clang!

A tael of silver was tossed into the small monk’s bowl.

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The small monk started and looked up; it was a handsome Daoist holding an oil-paper umbrella, a wine-gourd at his waist, though his clothes looked somewhat wet.

”Amitabha — donor has overpaid; one copper is enough.”

The small monk’s gaze was clear; without hesitation he took out the silver, meaning to return it to Li Daoxuan.

Li Daoxuan looked at the fainted big monk and laughed. ”Keep it — take your master to see a physician.”

Seeing Li Daoxuan insist, the small monk had no choice but to accept the silver.

Li Daoxuan nodded to him; this small monk bore a certain quality, like an uncut jade — clean, pure, easily winning favor.

But they were chance-met; he did not mean to deepen the acquaintance, and prepared to leave.

The small monk, however, blocked his way.

”Little master, is there more?”

The small monk put his palms together. ”Master forbade me to meddle in such things, but since this novice has taken the donor’s silver, I cannot look on unconcerned.”

Li Daoxuan was a little surprised. ”What thing?”

He had earlier scanned with his Dharma eye: this small monk had a clear wisdom-light and fine bones — a fine seedling for cultivation — but had never practiced, with no mana at all.

The small monk gazed at Li Daoxuan, his eyes clear as a mirror.

”This novice sees above the donor’s head clear-qi abounds — originally a fortunate one — yet within the clear-qi mingles a sky-high calamity-qi, growing ever denser, faintly a black cloud weighing overhead; I fear within days a great disaster will befall!”

Li Daoxuan looked at his serious manner and could not help but smile — this small monk had no mana, yet dared learn the fortune-teller’s trade to swindle coin?

He paid it no mind and prepared to leave thus.

Yet the small monk’s next words froze him where he stood.

”If this novice guesses aright, the donor’s calamity should come from this oil-paper umbrella!”

The small monk fixed on the oil-paper umbrella in Li Daoxuan’s hand, his gaze grave, and said, ”This novice sees within the umbrella a red-robed woman, yin-qi towering, most terrible; though she now sleeps, should she wake, the donor’s life would be lost!”

Li Daoxuan looked the small monk up and down, surprised within.

Know that Sister Yu, being a Red Robe, is the equal of a Yin-Spirit cultivator; an ordinary cultivator, even working his Dharma eye, could never see Sister Yu — let alone now that she hid within the umbrella.

Yet this small monk saw her true form at a glance?

The small monk truly had no mana and was very young; by no look was he a great cultivator of unfathomable power — yet he had seen…

Li Daoxuan recalled his master’s words: the skylark the Lady in Green had enlightened bore an innate spirit-eye that could see a man’s fortune.

Perhaps this small monk was the same.

Sure enough, the small monk smiled a little embarrassedly. ”Master says I have an innate wisdom-eye; in truth, besides these eyes I know nothing — this novice showed off before the Daoist.”

But he looked at Li Daoxuan with some hesitation. ”Yet the donor’s calamity-qi truly grows stronger — could this novice have erred?”

Li Daoxuan shook his head; he knew the calamity-qi was real, but since the small monk had no mana at all, he would not drag him in.

”Little master, farewell.”

He prepared to leave.

”Wait!”

The small monk again held out the silver, stubborn. ”Since this novice cannot resolve the donor’s calamity, this coin must not be taken!”

Li Daoxuan could not but sigh — a truly principled little monk.

As he was about to take back the silver, a fat big hand snatched it away, wiped it on his clothes, then cuffed the small monk smartly on the head.

”You wasteful scoundrel disciple — the temple can scarce keep the pot boiling, and you throw coin out?”

The big monk had woken at some unknown time; seeing the silver his eyes lit and his spirit rose — where was the earlier embarrassment?

Li Daoxuan’s gaze sharpened; he had not noticed at all!

The small monk covered his head, eyes welling with pain.

The big monk swept Li Daoxuan up and down, then smiled. ”This patron — no, this donor — thanks for the reward. Sky grows dark; how about you come lodge at our temple a night, and let this worthless disciple repay the karma?”

”Is your temple far?”

Li Daoxuan asked.

”Not far, not far — just north of the city, and very quiet!”

”Then this poor Daoist intrudes.”

Li Daoxuan did not refuse; this big monk was unfathomable, and the small monk had the innate eye — neither seemed ordinary.

Perhaps staying by their side, the hidden hand behind would be wary.

Hearing Li Daoxuan agree, the big monk patted his belly and smiled. ”Xuanzang, pack up — we take our honored guest home!”

The small monk, hearing Li Daoxuan would go with them, seemed glad too; he answered and hurried to gather things.

Only Li Daoxuan stood bewildered in the wind.

Wait — what was that little monk’s name?