Chapter 22: Curtains and Clay Figures Reveal the Coming of Autumn

Daoning, the monk from Ten Directions Temple, descended the mountain cursing under his breath, feeling utterly unlucky. Ever since Ye Chang’s visit, Chief Chunxin had taken every opportunity to show his displeasure toward Daoning, blaming him for not following Ye Chang’s plan, claiming it was Daoning’s slander that led him astray. Chunxin was hardly a paragon of monastic virtue, lacking generosity and quick to shift blame onto others.

Thus, Daoning’s once prominent position in the temple was now precarious. For days on end, the chief gave him no kindness, instead ordering him to perform the heaviest chores—chopping wood, hauling water—leaving him gasping for breath. If it weren’t for the promise of inheriting the temple’s assets one day, he would have long since returned to Little Liu Village.

All this was Ye Chang’s doing. If not for that wretch, none of these troubles would exist!

Daoning was still muttering curses about Ye Chang when, rounding a mountain bend with his load of firewood, he spotted Ye Chang himself approaching. Instantly, he threw down his bundle, brandishing his hatchet, and roared, “Ye Eleventh, you jinx-bringer, how dare you come up the mountain again?”

Yuan Gonglu and Brother Qian, who had come up the mountain and found the lush woods and fragrant flowers uplifting, were asking Ye Chang about the history of Ten Directions Temple when suddenly an ill-tempered monk leapt out at them. They were startled at first, then Brother Qian laughed, “Ye Chang, just how hated are you, that everywhere you go people shout curses and threats?”

Ye Chang maintained his calm, saluting courteously, “This monk is Daoning, nephew of Liu Lizheng whom you met earlier.”

With that, Yuan Gonglu and Brother Qian understood: it wasn’t Ye Chang’s character that made him a target, but the Liu family’s deep-seated animosity. On hearing Daoning was the nephew of that coarse Liu Fenyin, Yuan Gonglu’s mood soured. The constables accompanying them, having witnessed the earlier commotion, were ready; they grasped their swords and barked, “You impudent monk, why don’t you show proper respect to the county officer?”

When Daoning realized the county officer was present, he turned pale, dropped his hatchet and firewood, offered a hasty bow, and fled, shouting, “Trouble has come, trouble has come!”

When a county officer arrives, it nearly always means an incident, so he wasn’t wrong to think trouble was brewing. His mistake was shouting it aloud, as if the county officer himself were the calamity. Brother Qian laughed again, while Yuan Gonglu was furious, though Ye Chang, ever perceptive, stepped in with a smile, “Speaking of wild monks, I once heard a curious tale about one.”

“Oh?”

“There was once a scholar traveling the realm who, passing a temple, entered to worship and ask for tea. The temple’s guest monk was coarse and stingy, seeing the scholar’s humble attire and treating him coldly, uttering only two words: ‘Sit’ and ‘Tea.’ The novice understood, and delayed bringing the tea. The scholar, bored while waiting, began discussing history and lore with the guest monk, who, amazed by his talent, invited him to ‘take the honored seat’ and urged the novice to bring ‘respectful tea.’ Only then did the novice prepare it. When the guest monk finally asked the scholar’s name, he realized he was hosting a famous talent, and jumped up in awe, bowing and saying ‘Please take the honored seat,’ and ordered the novice to bring ‘fragrant tea.’”

This story was unknown to the others; Yuan Gonglu and Brother Qian sighed at this point. Ye Chang continued, “When the scholar departed, the monk shyly asked him to inscribe a poem on the wall. On the left of the temple gate, he wrote ‘Sit, Please Sit, Please Take the Honored Seat’; on the right, ‘Tea, Respectful Tea, Fragrant Tea,’ and departed laughing…”

Yuan Gonglu and Brother Qian burst into laughter. Yuan Gonglu pointed at Ye Chang, “That scholar was a sly wit, and you, young man, are just like him!”

Brother Qian’s laughter carried a touch of bitterness. He too was a renowned scholar, celebrated for his poetry, but disappointed in the examinations, leading to some hardship. Ye Chang’s story was one he had experienced more than once.

As their laughter subsided, Chief Chunxin of Ten Directions Temple emerged, stumbling with a group of monks. The monk who had cried “Trouble has come!” now bore a fresh slap mark on his face. Yuan Gonglu and Brother Qian laughed anew, leaving Chunxin baffled.

“We have a matter today that requires your temple’s assistance: we wish to borrow the statue of Wei Tuo,” Ye Chang said with a half-smile after Chunxin had greeted them.

Chunxin was instantly shaken. Last time, failing to follow Ye Chang’s script, he had ruined the show. The manifestation of Wei Tuo should have brought the temple much incense and offerings, but the effect was less than half the expectation. More importantly, Chunxin realized Ye Chang was not one to let a grudge linger; his bargains were never easy.

After the successful water diversion at Hong Canal, Chunxin’s regret only deepened. Ten Directions Temple should have shared in the credit, but now not a single benefit came their way. Conversely, simply because Ye Chang said a certain Daoist was involved, the incense at the Medicine King Temple across the mountain had doubled!

Chunxin was truly envious and resentful, but now Ye Chang had brought the county officer to “borrow the statue,” clearly to settle scores.

He wanted to refuse, but seeing the county officer, he lacked the courage. Behind him, Daoning, clutching his slapped face, muttered, “I told you, trouble has come…”

He nearly earned another slap.

Ye Chang requested several items from Chunxin, instructing him to drape a cloth over the statue of Wei Tuo from head to toe, then had Daoning fetch several basins of clean water. Before the shrouded statue, Ye Chang prayed in silence. Yuan Gonglu and Brother Qian watched with amusement, but to the other onlookers, his actions carried an air of mystery.

Next, Ye Chang slipped beneath the cloth, his figure visible as he circled the statue nine times. When he emerged, his expression was solemn.

“I have prayed to the Bodhisattva, asking for an avatar to descend. To prevent disruption, the statue is shrouded,” Ye Chang announced, stepping away and addressing the crowd, “With the Bodhisattva’s avatar present, you must show reverence and not speak loudly!”

Yuan Gonglu and Brother Qian were bewildered, but Ye Chang invited them to burn incense and worship. Following the customary reverence of the Chinese, they complied, bowing in respect. They felt nothing unusual, but the surrounding villagers, seeing even the county officer and his friend believing and acting accordingly, their trust in Ye Chang grew from moderate to nearly absolute. After all, if such important figures believed, how could ordinary folk not follow suit? Everyone hurriedly paid their respects; Ye Chang, seeing a certain person among them also bowing, felt fully confident.

“Soon, the twelve I have summoned will circle the statue three times each, then touch it. The one who used sorcery to steal gold, silver, and deeds from the box, whose heart is wicked and hands corrupt, will be rejected by the Bodhisattva and struck down by heavenly thunder,” Ye Chang declared. “Wait a moment, and all will be revealed!”

“What if… what if no one is struck by thunder?” Ye Lian asked, trembling.

“If no one is punished by the Bodhisattva, then I am the sorcerer, deceiving the people, and the county officer may punish me accordingly!” Ye Chang said firmly.

His resolve banished all doubts.

Soon, Liu Fenyin arrived with the twelve named individuals, mostly Ye Lian’s household servants and maids. After Yuan Gonglu confirmed their identities, he nodded slightly. Ye Chang’s supernatural method was absurd, but the selection matched Yuan Gonglu’s own suspicion—this theft was almost certainly an inside job.

Ye Lian explained the process to them; the twelve showed varied expressions, mostly fearful. Ye Chang saw they understood, and approached Yuan Gonglu with a bow, “Master, the hour has come. Please allow me to proceed.”

“Go ahead,” Yuan Gonglu nodded.

Ye Chang turned to the crowd, repeated the instructions, and said, “I will now call names. Those summoned, enter the shrouded area, circle the statue three times, then exit behind it—Uncle, I have one more favor to ask.”

Ye Dan, who had been watching in a daze, was anxious, “What is it?”

“You will guide those who exit after three circles and lead them away,” Ye Chang instructed loudly, then whispered something in Ye Dan’s ear.

No one else heard what he said; Ye Dan looked confused, and with two Ye family youths, went behind the statue, feeling it disrespectful, and thus bowed to the statue.

Ye Chang ignored them, fixing his gaze on the twelve. Under his scrutiny, they all lowered their eyes.

In recent days, tales of Ye Chang’s encounter with immortals had spread wildly in Wuze Pond, and these twelve, mostly servants of the third branch, had experienced Ye Chang’s unpredictable ways firsthand, so fear was inevitable. Ye Chang watched them until the crowd quieted, then called the first name.

The chosen shuddered, seeking help, glancing at Yuan Gonglu, who remained silent. With no choice, the person stepped forward, entered the shroud, and touched the statue’s foot, as if fearing a snake, ready to withdraw at any moment. Barely breathing, he circled the statue three times as instructed, then heard Ye Dan’s guidance and exited behind the statue.

No one saw his exit, but he gave a shout of joy, clearly relieved not to be punished by the Bodhisattva.

Daoning, who had been holding his breath, relaxed. Lacking prudence, he said sourly, “The Bodhisattva judging a case? I’ve been a monk ten years and never heard of such a thing. Ye family’s little thief treating the Bodhisattva as a magistrate?”

Chunxin, reciting “Amitabha,” glared at him, growing more contemptuous: the result was not yet known, and Daoning was already speaking out. This fellow was truly unfit for responsibility, even a liability to the temple!

If new monks arrived, it would be best to dismiss this one.

Daoning was oblivious that his days at Ten Directions Temple were numbered. He was smug and about to speak again when Ye Chang fixed him with a cold gaze, “If the Bodhisattva does not judge, it is because someone here is disrespectful. If you don’t wish to be slapped, keep quiet and stay aside!”

Daoning, afraid of the county officer, muttered about bullying, but kept silent.

Ye Chang called the second name, then the third, fourth. Each entered the shroud, circled the statue three times, and exited behind it, then stood quietly as Ye Dan forbade them to speak.

The first six passed in silence, but from the seventh, whispers arose. Ye Chang snapped open his fan and waved it lightly, composed, “It seems the thief is among the remaining five—soon all will be clear. Perhaps the Bodhisattva will send thunder or divine fire to strike down the culprit…”

He spoke lightly, but the last five turned pale. Each, when called, entered as if facing execution, and emerged as if reborn. After all twelve had passed, nothing unusual happened; murmurs swept the crowd, even Ye Chang’s allies looked at him askance.

Only Ye Chang remained as before.

“That’s him, that wretch! He used sorcery, and before the Bodhisattva, his evil magic faltered, revealing his true form!” the Liu family screamed hysterically.

“Master, seize this unfilial son at once!” Ye Lian shouted.

Liu Fenyin only smiled obsequiously, sidling up to Yuan Gonglu, “Master, you see how strong public opinion is…”

Yuan Gonglu was nearly at his wit’s end. He favored Ye Chang, but Ye Chang had spoken too boldly, and the idea of Bodhisattva judging a case was too fantastical. Now, even wishing to protect him, he had no recourse.

“Ahem… Ye Chang, have you anything more to say?”

The crowd quieted, awaiting Ye Chang’s reply. Ye Chang bowed deeply, “Master, the Bodhisattva has already identified the thief.”

“What?” None expected him to remain so stubborn, even Yuan Gonglu was displeased. If Ye Chang had admitted defeat, he could have shown lenience, but this attitude was that of an incorrigible troublemaker.

Officials hate nothing more than troublemakers.

“Impudent… ahem!” Yuan Gonglu began to scold, but felt someone tugging his sleeve. He turned to see Brother Qian signaling him.

Yuan Gonglu knew his friend was a man of talent and wit, perceptive and shrewd. This signal surely had purpose; though he didn’t know it yet, as an experienced official he had learned the art of swallowing words unspoken—a universal trait among bureaucrats throughout history.

“Impudent! What do you mean? Speak to the crowd, or must I explain for you?” Yuan Gonglu cleared his throat and continued.

Ye Chang smiled, “I admit my fault, and will now reveal who has been punished by the Bodhisattva—the true thief.”

He led Yuan Gonglu to the front court, pointed to one among the twelve, “It is you. Confess to the master how you stole the property and who instructed you behind the scenes!”