الفصل الحادي والثلاثون

الفصل الحادي والثلاثون

It will be seen that Zhang the Commandant, having trusted the words of Zhang the Regimental Procurator, had agreed to avenge "Jiang the Temple Guardian" and sought to take Wu Song's life. But who would have thought that all four of them had been stabbed to death by Wu Song at Flying Cloud Ford? At that moment, Wu Song stood upon the bridge, pondering for quite some time. Hesitating at first, his resentment soared to the heavens: "Unless I kill Zhang the Commandant, how can I vent this hateful breath of anger!" So he went to the dead corpses, unbuckled their waist knives, selected a fine one, strapped it on, chose a good pike to carry, and then made his way straight back into Mengzhou city. Having entered the city, it was already dusk. He saw every household with doors shut and every gate closed. He saw only:

At the crossroads, bright and flickering lantern flames;

At the Temple of the Nine Luminaries, the sound of bells amid fragrant mist.

A single bright moon hangs in the azure sky;

A few scattered stars shine clear in the deep blue void.

Within the camps of the Six Armies, the painted horns blow mournfully again and again;

Atop the Five-Drum Tower, drop after drop falls from the copper water-clock.

In pairs, fair ladies return to their embroidered curtains;

In pairs, scholars close their book screens.

At that time, Wu Song entered the city and made his way directly to the outside wall of Zhang the Commandant's rear garden, where there happened to be a stable. Wu Song concealed himself beside the stable and heard that the chief groom was still inside the yaman and had not yet come out. Just as he was watching, he saw the side gate creak open, and the chief groom came out carrying a lantern. The side gate was then shut from inside. Wu Song hid in the dark shadow and listened for the night-watch drum; the first watch had already been struck four times. The groom finished putting down the fodder, hung up the lantern, spread out his bedding, took off his clothes, and got into bed to sleep. Wu Song went to the door and rattled it. The groom shouted, "The master has just gone to sleep. If you want to steal my clothes, you're too late!" Wu Song leaned the pike against the door, drew his waist knife, and pushed the door open with a creak. The groom could not restrain himself. He leaped up stark naked from the bed, grabbed a fodder-stirring stick, and drew the bolt. Just as he was about to open the door, Wu Song pushed it wide open with the force of his movement, rushed in, and seized the groom by the hair. The groom was about to cry out, but in the lamplight he saw the gleam of a bright knife in Wu Song's hand and was already eight parts terrified. He could only cry out once: "Spare my life!" Wu Song said, "Do you recognize me?" The groom listened to the voice and realized it was Wu Song. He cried out, "Brother, I had nothing to do with it! Please spare me!" Wu Song said, "You tell me the truth—where is Zhang the Commandant now?" The groom said, "Today he spent the whole day drinking with Zhang the Regimental Procurator and Jiang the Temple Guardian. They are still drinking in the Mandarin Ducks Tower." Wu Song said, "Is this the truth?" The groom said, "If this little man is lying, may he die of carbuncles!" Wu Song said, "In that case, I cannot spare you!" He raised his knife and struck, killing the groom. He kicked the corpse aside, sheathed his knife, and by the candlelight unbuckled the padded garments that Shi En had given him, took them off, removed his old clothes, and put on the two new garments, tying them tight. He strapped the waist knife and scabbard at his waist, then took the groom's bedsheet and wrapped up some loose silver, put it in his pouch, and hung it by the door. He then set both doors against the wall, went first to blow out the lamp, and slipped out with his pike. Step by step, he climbed up the wall from the door.

At that time, the moonlight was somewhat bright. Wu Song leaped from the top of the wall and landed inside. He first opened the side gate, moved the door panels aside, turned around and came back in, and left the side gate half-shut. He had already drawn the bolt. Wu Song then went toward where the lamp light was and saw that it was the kitchen. He saw two maidservants by the soup pot, grumbling: "We've been attending on them all day, and still they won't go to sleep. All they want is tea to drink. Those two guests have no sense of shame—they've drunk themselves into such a stupor, and still they won't go upstairs to rest. They just go on and on." The two maids were muttering and complaining to themselves. Wu Song leaned his pike against the wall and drew the bloodstained knife from his waist. He pushed the door open with a creak, rushed in, seized one of the maids by her coiled hair, and cut her down with one stroke. The other was about to flee, but her feet were as though nailed to the ground. When she tried to cry out, her mouth seemed paralyzed—she was simply too stunned to speak. Never mind two maidservants; even the narrator, had he seen it, would have been too shocked to utter a word. Wu Song raised his knife and killed her too. He dragged the two corpses in front of the stove, extinguished the kitchen lamp, and taking advantage of the moonlight outside the window, step by step he made his way into the main hall.

Wu Song was a man who had come and gone in the yaman and already knew every path. He made his way directly to the stairs of the Mandarin Ducks Tower, moving silently and stealthily as he crept upstairs. By this time, the personal attendants had grown weary of serving and had withdrawn far away. He could only hear Zhang the Commandant, Zhang the Regimental Procurator, and "Jiang the Temple Guardian" talking. Wu Song listened at the foot of the stairs and heard "Jiang the Temple Guardian" praising them without end, saying: "Thanks to you, my lord, my grievance has been avenged. I shall repay your kindness most handsomely again!" Zhang the Commandant said: "Were it not for the sake of my brother Zhang the Regimental Procurator, who would have done such a thing! Although you spent some money, you arranged that fellow's end quite well. By now they are most likely carrying it out—that fellow must be dead. They were to finish him off at Flying Cloud Ford. When those four return tomorrow morning, we shall know the result." Zhang the Regimental Procurator said: "Four of them dealing with one—what could go wrong? Even if he had several more lives, they would be gone." "Jiang the Temple Guardian" said: "This little man also instructed my disciples: they were to carry it out right there, finish him, and come back quickly to report." Truly:

The dark chamber has never deceived—since ancient times, all treachery and wickedness have been swept away.

Before the autumn wind stirs, the cicada already cries; the dark envoy of death comes, and the victim knows nothing.

When Wu Song heard these words, the fire of blind fury in his heart rose three thousand feet high, tearing through the blue sky. With the knife in his right hand and the five fingers of his left hand spread wide, he rushed into the tower. There were but three or five painted candles flickering brightly, and moonlight streamed in from one or two places—the upper floor was quite luminous. The wine vessels before him had not yet been cleared away. "Jiang the Gate God" sat in his folding chair; seeing that it was Wu Song, he was so startled that his heart, liver, and five viscera all floated up beyond the nine heavens. What took long to tell happened in an instant—when Jiang the Gate God tried to struggle, Wu Song's knife had already fallen, cleaving him across the face and overturning the folding chair along with him. Wu Song then turned the knife around. Inspector Zhang had just managed to move his foot when Wu Song struck him with a single blow at that moment, cutting him from the ear roots through the neck; he crashed to the floor, face down. Both men were still writhing in their death throes. This Colonel Zhang, after all, was a military officer by training; though drunk with wine, he still had some strength. Seeing two men already cut down, he figured there was no time to flee, so he grabbed a folding chair and swung it at Wu Song. Wu Song caught it early and, using the momentum, gave a single push. Even if Colonel Zhang had been sober and wide awake, he could not have withstood Wu Song's divine strength—he crashed backward to the ground. Wu Song rushed in and with one blow first chopped off his head. Jiang the Gate God had some strength and managed to struggle to his feet. Wu Song's left foot shot up early, flipping him over with a kick; he pinned him down and cut off his head too. Turning around, he also cut off Inspector Zhang's head. Seeing wine and meat on the table, Wu Song picked up the wine cup and drained it in one gulp; he drank three or four cups in succession, then tore a piece of cloth from the corpses, dipped it in blood, and wrote eight large characters on the whitewashed wall: "The killer is the Tiger-Slayer Wu Song." He crushed the vessels on the table underfoot, stuffed a few into his bosom, and was about to go downstairs when he heard the lady's voice calling from below: "The gentlemen upstairs are all drunk—quickly send two men up to help them!" Before she had finished speaking, two men had already come up the stairs. Wu Song slipped aside by the stairway and watched—they were two of his own personal attendants, the very men who had seized him the other day. Wu Song let them pass in the dark, then blocked their path. When the two men entered the tower and saw the three corpses lying in a pool of blood, they were so terrified that they stared at each other, unable to utter a sound—it was just like "splitting open the eight plates of the skull and pouring down half a bucket of ice and snow." When they turned to flee, Wu Song was right behind them; his knife rose and fell, and he had already cut down the first one. The other knelt down and begged for mercy. Wu Song said, "I cannot spare you!" He seized him and cut off his head too. He killed until blood splashed across the painted tower and corpses lay scattered among the lamplight shadows. Wu Song said, "In for a penny, in for a pound—even if I kill a hundred, it is still but one death." He took his knife and went downstairs.

The lady asked, "What is all that commotion upstairs?" Wu Song rushed to the front of the room. The lady, seeing a big fellow approaching, still asked, "Who is it?" Wu Song's knife flew up at once, cleaving her across the face; she fell in the front room groaning. Wu Song pinned her down and was about to cut off her head, but the knife would not bite into the neck. Wu Song was puzzled; by the moonlight he looked at the knife and saw that its edge was all chipped and broken. Wu Song said, "So that's why the head won't come off!" He then went out the back gate to fetch his broad saber, discarded the broken knife, and turned back to go downstairs again. He saw the lamps still bright; Yulan, the singing girl from before, was leading two small children, and by lamplight they saw the lady killed on the floor. She had just cried out, "Misery!" when Wu Song gripped his broad saber and thrust it into Yulan's heart. The two small children were also stabbed to death by Wu Song—one broad saber thrust finished each one. He walked out into the central hall, barred the front gate, and went back in to search for two or three other women, whom he also stabbed to death in their rooms.

Wu Song said, "I am now fully satisfied—time to go!" He cast aside the scabbard, took up his broad saber, and went out to the corner gate. In the stable courtyard he untied his sash pouch, placed the silver wine vessels he had crushed into his bosom inside it, tied it around his waist, opened his stride, and walked off with the broad saber held upside down. When he reached the city wall, he thought to himself: "If I wait for the gate to open, I will be seized—better to scale the wall and flee tonight." So he climbed up from the edge of the wall. This city of Mengzhou was a small place; the earthen wall was not very high. By the parapet he looked down, first pressing the broad saber lightly—blade tip upward, staff end downward—and with a single leap, using the staff as a support, he stood on the edge of the moat. In the bright moonlight, he looked at the water: it was only one or two feet deep. It was now mid-October, and everywhere the springs and streams had dried up. Wu Song took off his shoes and socks by the moat's edge, removed the leg wrappings and knee guards, tucked up his clothes, and waded across the moat to the other side. Then he remembered that the bundle Shi En had given him contained a pair of eight-strapped hemp shoes; he took them out and put them on. He listened to the night watch's signal in the city—it was already the third watch past the fourth. Wu Song said: "This foul breath has only now been released. 'Though the Liang Garden is fine, it is not a place to linger long'—I must be off at once." He took up his broad saber and headed down the eastern road. A poem says:

He sought only to draw his knife on the road, and rejoiced to drink wine in the tower.

One man brought death to many—his murderous heart was crueler than the killer himself.

Had the vengeful ghosts not pressed upon him, how could he have slipped away so quickly?

They had been walking since the fifth watch. The sky was still dim and hazy, not yet bright. Wu Song had spent the night in hardship and was weary in body; his staff wound had flared up again and ached terribly—how could he endure it? He caught sight of an ancient little temple within a grove of trees and rushed inside. He leaned his broad-bladed sword against the wall, untied his bundle to use as a pillow, and threw himself down to sleep. Just as he was about to close his eyes, he saw two grappling hooks poke in from outside the temple and snag him. Two men rushed in, pinned him down, and bound him with a rope. The four men and women said, "This bird of a fellow is plump—good to deliver to the big brother." Wu Song could not struggle free; the four of them seized his bundle and broad-bladed sword, and like leading a goat, dragged him off the ground without letting his feet touch, hauling him to the village. Along the way the four men and women muttered to themselves, "Look at this fellow, covered in blood—where could he have come from? Could he have been caught committing some robbery?" Wu Song said nothing and let them talk as they pleased. Before they had gone three or five li, they soon arrived at a thatched hut, where they shoved Wu Song inside. In a small side doorway, a bowl lamp was still lit. The four men and women stripped Wu Song's clothes off and tied him to a pillar in the pavilion. When Wu Song looked, he saw two human legs hanging from the beam by the stove. Wu Song thought to himself, "I have run straight into the hands of a sudden-death spirit—to die without knowing why. Had I known this would happen, I would have gone to Mengzhou prefecture to file a complaint. Even if it meant being cut to pieces, at least I would have left a clean name behind in the world."

Indeed:

When all the wicked are slain, only then does hatred cease;

A hero fleeing for his life does not flee his name.

For a thousand ages his spirit is born without shame;

His seven-foot frame, his death is not a light matter.

The four men and women carried the bundle and called out, "Big brother, big sister-in-law, get up quickly! We've caught a fine piece of merchandise here!" From the front came a reply, "I'm coming! Don't you touch him—I'll do the cutting myself."

Before the time it took to drink a cup of tea, two men entered from behind the house. When Wu Song looked, there in front was a woman and behind her a big man. The two of them fixed their eyes on Wu Song. The woman said, "Why, this is our uncle, Chief Marshal Wu!" The big man said, "Quickly, untie my brother!" When Wu Song looked, the big man was none other than Gardener Zhang Qing, and the woman was the "Yaksha Demoness" Sun Erniang. The four men and women were startled; they immediately untied the rope, dressed Wu Song in his clothes, and since his headscarf had already been torn to shreds, they gave him a felt hat to wear instead. It turned out that Zhang Qing had several establishments at Cross Slope, so Wu Song had not recognized this one. Zhang Qing at once invited him out to the guest seat in front and they exchanged greetings. Zhang Qing was greatly alarmed and asked at all speed, "Brother, how did you come to be in such a state?" Wu Song replied, "It would take forever to tell! Since we parted, I arrived at the prison camp, where I was fortunate to be befriended by the son of the camp superintendent, Shi En, nicknamed 'Golden-Eyed Leopard.' We took to each other at once, and every day he supplied me with good wine and food. He owned a wine and meat shop in Happy Forest, east of the city, which was extremely profitable; but a certain 'Jiang the Gate God,' a brute brought in by a Training Commissioner Zhang, had used his power and influence to openly seize it without compensation. When Shi En told me this, I could not stand by injustice and, in a drunken rage, beat Jiang the Gate God and took back Happy Forest. For this, Shi En held me in the highest regard. Later, Training Commissioner Zhang bribed Supervising Inspector Zhang, who devised a scheme to take me as his personal attendant, then plotted to frame me and avenge Jiang the Gate God. On the night of the fifteenth day of the eighth month, they falsely claimed there was a thief and lured me inside; they had already placed silver wine vessels in my luggage. They arrested me and sent me under guard to Mengzhou prefecture, forcing me to confess to being a thief. After I had been beaten and had given a false confession, I was thrown into prison. But Shi En spent money freely to grease every palm above and below, so I came to no harm. Moreover, the magistrate in charge of the case, Ye Kongmu, was a man of justice and generosity and refused to frame an innocent person. And there was a prison warden, Kang, who was Shi En's closest friend. The two of them together exerted all their efforts to protect me. When my sentence was complete, I was sentenced to be beaten on the back with heavy sticks and reassigned to Enzhou. Last night, after leaving the city, that insufferable Supervising Inspector Zhang had schemed again, ordering Jiang the Gate God to send two disciples along with the escorting guards to finish me off on the road. When we reached the lonely spot at Flying Cloud Bank and they were just about to make their move, I kicked both disciples into the water with my feet. I caught up with those two damned guards and killed each with a single thrust of my broad-bladed sword, throwing their bodies into the water. I thought, how can I let this outrage go unavenged? So I turned back toward Mengzhou city. At the first watch and fourth quarter, I entered the stable yard and first killed the groom in the rear stable; I climbed over the wall and went to the kitchen, where I killed two servant girls; I went straight up to the Mandarin Duck Tower and killed all three—Supervising Inspector Zhang, Training Commissioner Zhang, and Jiang the Gate God; I also cut down two of their personal attendants. Coming back downstairs, I stabbed to death his wife, his children, and his daughter-in-law. I fled through the night, climbed over the wall, and escaped the city. After walking since the fifth watch, overcome by exhaustion, my staff wound flaring up and aching, unable to go on, I took shelter in a small temple to rest for a while—and then these four bound me and brought me here."

The four ruffians prostrated themselves on the ground and said, "The four of us are all Old Zhang's men. These past few days we've been losing at gambling, so we went to the woods looking to find some business. Then we saw you coming along the little path, your whole body dripping wet and covered with blood, resting in the Earth God's temple. We didn't know who you were. Old Zhang had only a while ago told us: 'Just take them alive.' So that's why we only went out with grappling hooks and nooses. If he hadn't given those orders, we might have cost you your life. Truly, 'we had eyes but failed to recognize Mount Tai!' We offended you in ignorance—please forgive us!"

Zhang Qing and his wife both laughed and said, "We've had something weighing on our minds, so these days we've only been telling them to take their captives alive. These four fellows couldn't possibly understand what's on my mind. If my brother here hadn't been so exhausted, let alone you four, even forty men couldn't have gotten near him."

The four ruffians kept kowtowing. Wu Song raised them and said, "Since you've got no money for gambling, I'll give you something." He opened his bundle and took out ten taels of silver, giving it to the four men to divide among themselves. The four ruffians bowed and thanked Wu Song. Zhang Qing, seeing this, also took out two or three taels of silver and gave it to the four of them to share.

Zhang Qing said, "My worthy brother, you don't know what was in my heart! Ever since you left, I was afraid you might run into trouble and come back sooner or later, so I told these men that whenever they took captives, they should take them alive. If the fellows they were up against were weaker, they could take them alive; but if they couldn't match them, they might end up killing you. That's why I didn't let them take swords and weapons, only grappling hooks and nooses. Just now when I heard the report, I was suspicious. I gave orders for them to wait and let me come see for myself—and who would have thought it really was you!"

Sun the Second said, "We only heard that you had beaten 'The Door God Jiang,' and that you were drunk when you won. Who among the travelers passing through wasn't startled by that! Merchants doing business at Happy Forest often talk about it when they get here, but they don't know what happened afterward. You must be exhausted, Brother—please go to the guest room and rest, and we'll sort things out later."

Zhang Qing led Wu Song to the guest room to sleep. The two of them then went to the kitchen to prepare some fine dishes, wine, and food to host Wu Song. Before long, everything was ready, and they waited for Wu Song to wake up so they could talk. A poem bears witness:

> Gold and treasure dull, but swords and blades awaken;

> Heaven is high and the Emperor is far—all powerless.

> Why are there so many baleful stars in the halls of state?

> It is among the rivers and lakes that a savior star appears.

Now in Mengzhou, inside the headquarters of the garrison commandant Zhang, there were also some who had managed to escape. They didn't dare come out until the fifth watch. The people inside called for the personal attendants and the soldiers on duty outside, and everyone came to see and raise the alarm. The neighbors on the street—who dared come out? They waited until daybreak, then went to the Mengzhou prefectural office to report the matter. When the prefect heard the news, he was greatly alarmed. He immediately dispatched men to go down, tally the number of people killed, determine where the murderer had gone, and fill out the official forms with descriptions. They returned to the prefecture to report to the prefect: "He came in through the horse stable and killed the stable groom, leaving behind two old garments. Next he went to the kitchen and killed two maidservants under the stove; a notched knife was left behind at the back gate. Upstairs he killed Commandant Zhang along with two of his personal attendants. Also present were the invited guests Regiment Commander Zhang and 'The Door God Jiang.' On the whitewashed wall, dipping his garment in blood, he wrote in large characters: 'The killer is the tiger-slayer Wu Song.' Downstairs he stabbed to death one lady, the Lady of the House. Outside he stabbed to death Yulong and the nursemaid, plus three sons and daughters. In all, fifteen men and women were killed, and six pieces of gold and silver wine vessels were looted."

When the prefect had read this, he ordered men to guard all four gates of Mengzhou. He mobilized soldiers and constables, along with the neighborhood heads of every ward and lane, to search door by door for the murderer Wu Song. The next day, the heads of the village at Flying Cloud Ford reported: "Four people were killed at the ford. Bloodstains from the killing were found beneath the Flying Cloud Ford bridge, and the bodies are all in the water." The prefect received the report and immediately sent the county sheriff down, who had the four bodies fished out and examined. Two were government men from the prefecture, and the two others had their families present, who each prepared coffins to receive the bodies. They all came to lodge complaints and urged the prefect to capture the murderer to answer for the lives taken. The city gates were closed for three days. They went from house to house, searching every single one—five households linked together, ten households forming a mutual guarantee—there was nowhere they didn't search. The prefect issued official documents and dispatched officers to the relevant districts—every village, every hamlet, every township, every settlement—all were to conduct house-to-house searches to capture the murderer. They wrote down Wu Song's home district, age, and physical description, had his likeness drawn, and posted a reward of three thousand strings of cash. Anyone who knew of Wu Song's whereabouts and reported it to the prefecture would be rewarded accordingly according to the official notice. Anyone who harbored the criminal in his home or gave him food and lodging would, upon discovery, be punished the same as the criminal himself. Neighboring prefectures were all notified to join in the manhunt.

Let us tell how Wu Song stayed at Zhang Qing's house for three or five days to recover. When he heard that the authorities were searching with the utmost urgency—that constables and officers were streaming out of the city into every village and hamlet to hunt for him—Zhang Qing, having learned of this, said to Wu Song, "Second Brother, it is not that I fear trouble and wish to send you away, but now the magistrate's men are searching with the greatest thoroughness, going from door to door. I fear that tomorrow some slip might occur, and they would surely hold my wife and me to blame. I know of a good place for you to hide—I have mentioned it to you before—but I do not know whether you are truly willing to go." Wu Song said, "These past few days I have also been thinking this matter over. This affair is bound to come to light, so how can I stay safely here? I have only one elder brother, and he was murdered by my sister-in-law's treachery. I had only just arrived here, and now I am entangled in this persecution besides. All my relatives from my ancestral home are gone. If my elder brother knows of such a good place for me to go, how could I refuse? I only ask—what region is it?" Zhang Qing said, "It is the Precious Pearl Temple on Twin Dragons Mountain, under the jurisdiction of Qingzhou. The 'Flowery Monk' Lu Zhishen and a fine fellow called 'Blue-Spotted Beast' Yang Zhi have been there, robbing the rich and preying upon travelers, holding the territory as outlaws. The Qingzhou government troops dare not even look them in the eye when hunting bandits. If you go there alone, you will be safe. If you go anywhere else, you will eventually be captured. They often send letters asking me to join them, but I have been too attached to my native soil to go. I will write a letter setting forth in detail your abilities, and on my account they will certainly not refuse to take you in." Wu Song said, "What you say is right. I have had the same wish, but the time had not yet come, and fate had not brought things together. Now that I have killed men and the affair has come to light with no place to hide, this is the best course. Elder Brother, write the letter and let me go—let me set out today."

Zhang Qing at once took out a sheet of paper and wrote a detailed letter, which he gave to Wu Song, and prepared food and wine to speed him on his way. Then the "Mother Nightmare" Sun Erniang, pointing at Zhang Qing, said, "How can you simply send our uncle off like that? He will surely be captured ahead on the road." Wu Song said, "Sister-in-law, tell me why I cannot go—how will I be captured?" Sun Erniang said, "Uncle, now the authorities have issued documents everywhere, offering a reward of three thousand strings of cash, with a sketch and description clearly stating your native place, age, and appearance, posted in every place. On your uncle's face there are now clearly two lines of 'golden seal' tattoos. When you reach the road ahead, you will not be able to pass." Zhang Qing said, "Just stick a couple of plasters on his face and that will do." Sun Erniang laughed and said, "You are the only clever one in the world—you speak such foolish words. How could this fool the constables? But I have a plan, only I fear my uncle will not agree to it." Wu Song said, "Since I must flee this disaster, how could I not agree?" Sun Erniang laughed loudly and said, "When I speak of it, do not be angry, Uncle." Wu Song said, "Sister-in-law, whatever you say, I will follow." Sun Erniang said, "Two years ago, a wandering monk passed through here. I struck him down and used him for several days as filling for steamed buns. But I kept his iron headband, his clothes, a black monk's robe, a multicolored short tasseled sash, an ordination certificate, a string of one hundred and eight prayer beads made from human skulls, and a sharkskin scabbard containing a pair of snow-bright meteoric iron monk's swords. Those swords often sang and whistled in the middle of the night—you saw them the other day. Now, since you must flee, the only way is to cut your hair and become a monk—that will cover the 'golden seal' on your forehead. Moreover, with this ordination certificate as a proof of identity, and since your age and appearance are the same as his, is this not a connection from a former life? If you take his name, who on the road ahead will dare to question you? Is this not a good plan?" Zhang Qing clapped his hands and said, "What Second Sister says is right—I had forgotten this very thing." Truly:

The hunt presses as urgent as sparks from a fire,

Peril rides upon the waves as if on a stormy sea.

If you would escape disaster and calamity,

You must become a wandering monk.

Zhang Qing said, "Second Brother, what do you think?" Wu Song said, "This can be done—only I fear I do not look like a man of religion." Zhang Qing said, "Let me dress you and we shall see." Sun Erniang went to the inner room and brought out a bundle, opened it, and produced many articles of clothing, which she had Wu Song put on inside and out. Wu Song looked at himself and said, "It is as though these were made for me." He put on the black monk's robe, tied the sash, took off his felt hat, unbound his hair and folded it up, put on the iron headband, and hung the prayer beads around his neck. Zhang Qing and Sun Erniang looked at him and both cried out in admiration, "This was indeed predestined from a former life!" Wu Song fetched a mirror and looked at himself, and burst out laughing. Zhang Qing said, "Second Brother, why do you laugh so?" Wu Song said, "I look at myself and cannot help laughing—I can indeed pass for a monk. Elder Brother, cut my hair for me." Zhang Qing took the shears and cut Wu Song's hair, front and back. As the poem says:

Since ancient times there has been Li Zhong who fought tigers,

Yet Wu Song's epithet still hung in empty air.

Fortunate that the "Nightmare" could preach the dharma,

And in an instant the wandering monk displayed his divine power.

Wu Song saw that the situation was growing urgent by the moment, so he packed his belongings and prepared to leave. Zhang Qing said again, "Second Brother, listen to me — it's not that I want to profit from you. Leave the wine vessels from the Supervisors' household here with me. I'll exchange them for some loose silver to serve as travel funds for your journey. That way you'll be perfectly safe." Wu Song said, "Elder Brother sees things clearly." He handed everything over to Zhang Qing, who gave him a packet of miscellaneous gold and silver. Wu Song tied it all in his pouch and fastened it at his waist. After eating a full meal and drinking his fill, Wu Song took his leave of Zhang Qing and his wife. At his waist he wore the two precept blades, and that evening everything was prepared. Sun Erniang took out the ordination certificate, sewed a brocade pouch for it, and told Wu Song to hang it against his chest, close to his skin. Wu Song thanked the husband and wife. As he was about to depart, Zhang Qing instructed him again, "Second Brother, be careful on the road and take nothing for granted. Drink less wine, don't pick quarries with people, and conduct yourself like a man of the cloth. Don't let your temper get the better of you in any matter, lest someone see through you. When you reach Twin Dragon Mountain, send a letter back to us. My wife and I don't mean to stay here forever either. I expect we'll gather our belongings later and come to the mountain to join you. Take care of yourself, Brother. Give my respects to Chieftains Lu and Yang."

Wu Song took his leave and set out, sleeves tucked up, swaggering along. Zhang Qing and his wife watched and exclaimed, "Truly a fine monk!"

Observe: The hair in front falls to shade his brows; the hair behind is uneven at his neck. His black robe is like dark clouds covering his body; his multicolored sash resembles a flowered python coiled about him. The forehead band above gleams bright — almost like fiery eyes that pierce the gloom; the patched cotton robe below is mottled and vivid — as if he had sinews of copper and bones of iron. Two precept blades in his hands bring killing breath that chills the autumn air; a hundred beads on his rosary, when he recites, fill the road with mournful wind. The man-eating rakshasa must fold her hands in reverence; the guardian vajra himself would knit his brows.

That evening, "the Monk Wu" took leave of Zhang Qing and his wife, departed from the Crossroads at the Great Tree, and set off on his way. It was the tenth month, when the days were short, and dusk came quickly. After traveling no more than fifty li, he caught sight of a high ridge ahead. "The Monk Wu" pressed on up the ridge by moonlight — it must have been just the beginning of the first watch. Standing at the top, he watched the moon rise from the east, illuminating the trees and grass on the ridge with radiant light. As he was looking, he heard laughter coming from a grove ahead. "The Monk Wu" said, "Something strange again! On such a clean, open ridge — who could be laughing?" He went past the grove to take a look and saw, among the pine trees by the hillside, a burial hermitage with some dozen or so thatched rooms. Two small windows were open, and a scholar was embracing a woman, gazing at the moon and laughing together. "The Monk Wu" saw this, and anger rose in his heart and malice stirred in his gall. He thought to himself, "These are mountain recluses and forest monks, yet they carry on like this!" He drew from his waist those two precept blades, bright as tarnished silver, and looked at them in the moonlight. "The blades are fine, but they've never tasted blood since they came into my hands. I'll try them on this cursed scholar." He held one in his hand, sheathed the other, tied his two robe sleeves behind his back, and went straight to the hermitage door to knock. The scholar heard him and shut the back window. "The Monk Wu" picked up a stone and hurled it at the door. With a creak, the side door opened, and a Taoist boy came out, shouting, "Who are you, that you dare make such a racket in the middle of the night, knocking and pounding on doors?" "The Monk Wu" glared with his fierce eyes and roared, "I'll sacrifice this cursed boy to my blade first!" The words were still on his tongue when his hand fell — a clang rang out, and the boy's head rolled to one side and he fell to the ground. From inside the hermitage, the scholar cried out, "Who dares kill my Taoist boy?" With a leap he sprang out. The scholar brandished two precious swords and rushed straight at "the Monk Wu." Wu Song laughed loudly, "My skills aren't locked away in any chest — this is just what I've been itching for!" He drew the other precept blade from its sheath, raised both blades, and advanced to meet the scholar. The two clashed beneath the bright moon — now advancing, now retreating, now closing, now parting — the twin swords flashing with cold light, the paired precept blades chilling the air with icy breath. They fought for a long time, like phoenixes courting each other in flight; they battled no short while, like a horned hawk seizing a hare. After some dozen exchanges, a great cry rang out from the side of the ridge, and one of the two fell. All that could be seen was: a head falling amid the cold gleam of blades, and a spray of blood amid the thick of killing breath. In the end, of these two locked in combat, who was it that fell? Listen to the next chapter.