Water Margin

Poem: 

In troubled times, one seeks refuge in Daizhou, 

Meeting a benefactor brings joy and gratitude. 

Amid the entangled web of the law, 

One finds solace and peace in a monastery. 

Meditating for liberation, 

Living a simple life of plain tea and rice through the seasons. 

One day, achieving enlightenment and transcending worldly bonds, 

To roam freely in Amitabha's Pure Land.

The story continues with Lu Da being dragged away by none other than Old Jin, whom he had saved at the wine house in Weizhou. Old Jin pulls Lu Da aside to a secluded place and says, “Benefactor, you are so bold! With the posters clearly displayed offering a thousand taels of gold for your capture, why would you go and look at them? If I hadn’t seen you, wouldn’t the officials have captured you already? The posters detail your appearance, birth year, and address.” 

Lu Da replies, “To be honest, I ended up at Zhuangyuan Bridge and ran into that butcher, Zheng Tu. I beat him to death with three punches. Since then, I’ve been on the run for fifty days, wandering from place to place until I arrived here. Why haven’t you gone back to Dongjing and ended up here?” 

Old Jin explains, “Since you saved us, I found a cart intending to return to Dongjing. However, fearing that brute would come after us and with no benefactor to save us again, we didn’t go to Dongjing. Instead, we traveled north, meeting an old acquaintance from Dongjing who brought us here to do business. He arranged for my daughter to marry into the wealthy Zhao family, ensuring her well-being, all thanks to you. She often speaks of your kindness. Master Zhao loves martial arts and often says, ‘I wish I could meet our benefactor.’ Let’s go to my house and discuss what to do next.” 

Lu Da walks with Old Jin for half a mile until they reach his home. Old Jin lifts the curtain and calls out, “My daughter, our great benefactor is here.” The young woman, dressed finely, comes out and invites Lu Da inside. She kneels and thanks him profusely, saying, “If not for your rescue, I wouldn’t have what I have today!” Lu Da notices her refined appearance, which is now quite different from before. She looks: 

Her hair adorned with gold pins, shimmering against her black hair;  

Her slender waist gracefully wrapped in a green silk skirt.  

Her delicate face with a slight blush,  

And her slender hands appearing like spring shoots.  

Her slim waist accentuated by a soft belt,  

And her light frame covered by a red embroidered jacket.  

Her face glows with the beauty of spring flowers,  

Her brows like fresh willow leaves in early spring.  

Her skin smooth and fair, reflecting the moonlight,  

Her hair dark and shiny, like clouds against the mountain. 

After paying respects, she invites Lu Da to the upper floor to sit. Lu Da says, “No need for formalities, I must leave soon.” Old Jin insists, “Since you are here, how can I let you leave so soon?” Old Jin takes Lu Da’s staff and bundle and leads him upstairs to sit. Old Jin instructs, “My daughter, serve our benefactor while I make arrangements.” Lu Da responds, “There’s no need for elaborate preparations; simple food will suffice.” Old Jin replies, “Your great kindness cannot be repaid even by sacrificing my life. A little food and drink are nothing in comparison.”  

The young woman stays with Lu Da while Old Jin and a young servant go to the market to buy fresh fish, tender chicken, pickled goose, fatty meats, and seasonal fruits. They return, prepare the meal, and serve it upstairs. The table is set with three cups and three pairs of chopsticks, along with various dishes and fruit. A maid pours wine from a silver jug. Old Jin and his daughter take turns offering cups to Lu Da. Old Jin kneels to express his gratitude, and Lu Da says, “Old man, why do you perform such a grand gesture? It embarrasses me.” Old Jin replies, “Let me explain. When I first arrived here, I wrote your name on a red paper plaque and have been offering incense and prayers daily. Now that you are here in person, how could I not bow in gratitude?” Lu Da responds, “Your heartfelt gesture is truly appreciated.” 

The three of them continue drinking until evening when they hear a commotion downstairs. Lu Da opens the window and sees about thirty people with wooden clubs shouting, “Catch the thief!” Among them is a man on horseback, commanding, “Don’t let the thief escape!” Seeing trouble, Lu Da grabs a stool and prepares to throw it. Old Jin quickly intervenes, clapping his hands and shouting, “No fighting!” He rushes downstairs and speaks with the man on horseback, who then laughs and disperses the crowd. 

The man dismounts and enters the house. Old Jin invites Lu Da downstairs. The man kneels and says, “Meeting you in person is even better than hearing about you. I am honored, Hero Lu.” Lu Da asks Old Jin, “Who is this man? We have never met, why is he bowing to me?” Old Jin replies, “This is my daughter’s husband, Master Zhao. He thought I had brought a rogue into the house, so he came with his men. Once I explained, he dispersed them.” Lu Da says, “No wonder, I cannot blame him.” Master Zhao invites Lu Da upstairs, where they resume the feast. Zhao places Lu Da in the seat of honor. Lu Da protests, “How can I accept such respect?” Zhao responds, “This is just a small token of my respect for you. I have heard of your great deeds and am thrilled to meet you.” Lu Da says, “I am just a rough man who has committed a serious crime. If you do not mind associating with me, I am at your service.” Zhao is overjoyed and they continue talking about the incident with Zheng Tu and martial arts until midnight before retiring. 

The next morning, Zhao suggests, “This place may not be safe. Please come to my estate for a while.” Lu Da asks, “Where is your estate?” Zhao replies, “About ten miles from here, in Seven Treasures Village.” Lu Da says, “That sounds good.” Zhao sends a servant ahead to prepare, and by midday, horses arrive. Zhao invites Lu Da to ride with him. Lu Da bids farewell to Old Jin and his daughter, then rides with Zhao to Seven Treasures Village. Upon arrival, Zhao takes Lu Da to the main hall, where they sit and chat. Zhao orders a sheep to be slaughtered and wine to be prepared. After a day of feasting, they rest. The following day, Zhao continues to host Lu Da with fine food and drink. Lu Da says, “Your kindness is overwhelming, how can I ever repay you?” Zhao responds, “We are all brothers in this world, no need to talk of repayment.” 

The story goes on. After this, Lu Da stayed at Master Zhao’s manor for five to seven days. One day, the two were idly chatting in the study when suddenly Old Jin came running anxiously to the manor, directly to the study. Seeing no one else around, he said to Lu Da, “Benefactor, it’s not that I am overly cautious, but because of the incident when you were invited to drink on the upper floor and Master Zhao mistakenly brought people to cause a commotion, rumors have spread. Yesterday, three or four officers came to the neighborhood inquiring persistently, likely to come to the village to capture you. What if there’s a mishap?” Lu Da said, “In that case, I will leave on my own.” Master Zhao said, “If I keep you here, I fear for your safety; if I don’t keep you, it would be disrespectful to our friendship. I have an idea to ensure your safety and give you a place to stay, but I’m afraid you won’t agree.” Lu Da said, “As long as I have a place to stay, why wouldn’t I agree?” Master Zhao said, “That’s the best. About thirty miles from here is a mountain called Wutai Mountain. On the mountain is Wenshu Monastery, a place of Manjusri Bodhisattva. The temple has five to seven hundred monks, led by Elder Zhizhen, who is like a brother to me. My ancestors donated money to the temple and are patrons there. I have always wanted to fulfill a vow to ordain a monk there, and I have a five-colored ordination certificate ready, just lacking a trustworthy person to fulfill this wish. If you are willing, I will prepare everything. Will you agree to become a monk?” Lu Da thought, “Where can I go now? I might as well take this path.” He said, “Since you are making the arrangements, I am willing to become a monk and rely on your support.” They agreed, and that night packed clothes and money, preparing gifts and loading them onto a carrying pole. Early the next morning, they set out for Wutai Mountain. By mid-morning, they arrived at the foot of the mountain. Lu Da saw that Wutai Mountain was indeed a grand mountain: 

Clouds shroud the peaks, the sun turns around the mountain’s waist. Majestic and imposing, it seems to touch the gates of heaven. Steep and jagged, it reaches into the Han region. Flowers and trees in front of the cliffs dance in the spring breeze, emitting a faint fragrance. At the cave entrance, vines hang from the previous rain. The flying clouds and waterfalls reflect the moonlight, making it cold. Ancient pines on the steep cliffs ring like iron, moving like dragon tails. It’s as if it’s dyed with indigo, naturally painted with layers of green. Its roots press down three thousand feet, its aura engulfs four hundred states. 

Master Zhao and Lu Da were carried up the mountain in sedan chairs while a servant went ahead to inform the temple. As they reached the temple, the head monk and overseer came out to greet them. The two got off the sedan chairs and sat in the pavilion outside the mountain gate. Elder Zhizhen, having heard of their arrival, led the head monk and attendants out to greet them. Master Zhao and Lu Da bowed, and Elder Zhizhen returned the salute, saying, “Patron, your journey was not easy.” Master Zhao replied, “I have a small matter to trouble you with.” Elder Zhizhen said, “Please come to the abbot’s room for tea.” Master Zhao walked ahead, followed by Lu Da. The Wenshu Monastery was indeed magnificent: 

The mountain gate reaches the steep ridges, the Buddha hall touches the blue clouds. The bell tower connects to the moon cave, the scripture pavilion faces the peaks. The kitchen is connected to a clear spring, the monks’ quarters embrace the mist. The abbot’s room is near the stars, the meditation hall is within the clouds. White-faced monkeys occasionally present fruits, tapping strange stones to sound wooden fish. Spotted deer daily offer flowers to the golden Buddha in the hall. The seven-story pagoda reaches the red sky, ancient monks frequent this great temple. 

Elder Zhizhen invited Master Zhao and Lu Da to the abbot’s room. The elder asked Master Zhao to sit as a guest, and Lu Da sat on a meditation chair below. Master Zhao whispered to Lu Da, “You are here to become a monk, why are you sitting?” Lu Da replied, “I didn’t realize,” and stood up beside Master Zhao. The head monk, supervisor, attendants, overseer, and guest manager stood in two lines on each side. The servants settled the sedan chairs and brought the gift boxes into the abbot’s room, placing them in front. The elder said, “Why bring gifts? The temple often receives such generosity.” Master Zhao replied, “These small gifts are not worth mentioning.” The attendants took the gifts away. Master Zhao stood up and said, “One thing to report to the abbot: I, Zhao, have always wished to ordain a monk in this temple. The certificate and documents are ready, but I haven’t found the right person. Now my cousin, named Lu Da, a former military officer, wishes to leave the worldly life and become a monk. I hope the abbot will accept him, for my sake, and ordain him. I will provide all necessary funds. Please, abbot, help fulfill this wish.” The elder replied, “This will bring glory to our temple. It’s easy to arrange. Please have some tea first.” A servant brought tea. How fine was the tea? A poem describes it: 

Jade buds and golden leaves are truly exquisite, the monk’s preparation is skilled. 

In a hare’s fur cup, the white clouds of fragrance rise, in crab-eye water, fine waves spread. 

It drives away sleep demons from the pillow, adding fresh energy to the body. 

This immortal tea is best grown in Peach Blossom Spring, not to be moved to the emperor’s capital. 

After tea, Elder Zhizhen called the head monk and supervisor to discuss ordaining Lu Da and ordered the overseer and others to prepare a feast. The head monk and other monks went to discuss, saying, “This person does not seem suitable for monastic life, with eyes like a thief’s.” The monks said, “Guest manager, invite the guest to sit while we discuss with the abbot.” The guest manager invited Master Zhao and Lu Da to the guest house. The head monk and monks told the abbot, “This person seems unfit for ordination, with a fierce appearance that may trouble the temple in the future.” The abbot said, “He is Master Zhao’s cousin. How can we refuse? Wait and see.” The abbot burned incense, sat in meditation, recited mantras, and entered a trance. After an incense stick burned, he returned and said, “Ordain him. This person is destined for greatness, with a just heart. Though now fierce, he will find peace and attain a high spiritual state.” The monks replied, “The abbot is partial, but we will obey.” 

The abbot called for a feast. Master Zhao offered silver for expenses, buying materials for monk shoes, robes, hats, and prayer mats. Within two days, all was ready. The abbot chose an auspicious day, rang the bell, and beat the drum, gathering the monks in the hall. Five to six hundred monks, all in robes, gathered before the abbot’s seat, joining their palms in prayer. Master Zhao presented silver, incense, and a declaration. Lu Da was brought to the abbot’s seat. The supervisor instructed Lu Da to remove his headscarf, braiding his hair into nine sections. The barber shaved around his head and was about to shave his beard when Lu Da said, “Leave some for me.” The monks laughed. The abbot said, “Everyone listen to this verse” and recited: 

“Leave not a single blade, keep the six roots pure. 

Shave it all off, avoid all competition.” 

After the abbot finished chanting the verse, he shouted, “Chop it all off!” The barber, with one swift stroke, shaved everything. The head monk presented the ordination certificate to the abbot, asking him to grant a Dharma name. The abbot, holding the blank certificate, chanted a verse: 

“A spark of divine light, worth a thousand gold. 

The vastness of Buddha’s teachings, granting the name Zhishen.” 

After bestowing the name, the abbot handed down the certificate. The secretary monk filled it out and gave it to Lu Zhishen. The abbot also granted him the Dharma robe and instructed Zhishen to wear it. The overseer led him to the Dharma seat, where the abbot placed his hand on Zhishen’s head and gave him the precepts: “First, take refuge in the Three Jewels. Second, follow the Buddha’s teachings. Third, respect your teachers and companions. These are the Three Refuges. The Five Precepts are: First, do not kill. Second, do not steal. Third, do not engage in sexual misconduct. Fourth, do not drink alcohol. Fifth, do not lie.” Zhishen, not understanding the Zen responses of “Yes” and “No,” simply said, “I remember.” The monks laughed. After receiving the precepts, Master Zhao invited the monks to the cloud hall for a meal, burning incense and offering food. All the monks in their various roles presented their congratulatory gifts. The overseer led Lu Zhishen to pay respects to the senior and junior monks, and then took him to sit in the meditation forest behind the monks’ hall. That night passed without incident. 

The next day, Master Zhao prepared to leave. He bid farewell, but the elder couldn’t persuade him to stay. After the early meal, the elder, along with all the monks, escorted him to the mountain gate. Master Zhao clasped his hands together and said, “Elder, fellow monks, please be compassionate. My brother Zhishen is a straightforward and rough person. If he fails to observe proper conduct or speaks out of turn, I hope you will forgive him for my sake.” The elder replied, “Don’t worry, Master Zhao. I will slowly teach him to recite sutras and practice meditation.” Master Zhao said, “I will repay this kindness in the future.” He called Zhishen over to a pine tree and whispered, “Brother, from today on, things are different. Be mindful and avoid arrogance. If something goes wrong, it will be hard for us to meet again. Take care. I will send clothes to you from time to time.” Zhishen replied, “You don’t need to say it, brother. I will follow your advice.” Master Zhao then took his leave of the elder, bade farewell to everyone, got into his sedan chair, and with his servants, carrying an empty sedan chair and the boxes, descended the mountain and returned home. The elder led the monks back to the temple. 

Lu Zhishen returned to the meditation bed in the forest’s selected Buddha field and immediately fell asleep. Two monks pushed him to wake him, saying, “This won’t do. If you want to become a monk, how can you not learn to meditate?” Zhishen replied, “I want to sleep. How does that concern you?” The monks said, “Amitabha!” Zhishen retorted, “I also eat turtle, what Amitabha!” The monks sighed, “What a pity.” Zhishen responded, “Turtle is delicious, fatty and sweet, how can it be a pity?” The monks gave up on him and left him to sleep. The next day, they wanted to report Zhishen’s misconduct to the elder. The head monk advised, “The elder said he will achieve extraordinary results in the future, surpassing us all. He is just being protective. There is nothing we can do, just ignore him.” The monks left. Zhishen, seeing no one criticized him, sprawled on the meditation bed at night, sleeping soundly. His snoring was like thunder, and when he needed to relieve himself, he did it behind the Buddha hall, making a mess everywhere. The attendants reported to the elder, “Zhishen is very rude, completely lacking any monk’s decorum. How can we keep such a person in the temple?” The elder scolded, “Nonsense! Just consider the patron’s request. He will change in time.” After that, no one dared to complain.  

Lu Zhishen stirred up trouble in Wutai Monastery for four or five months. In early winter, he grew restless. One clear day, Zhishen dressed in a black robe, tied with a black belt, changed into monk shoes, and strode out of the mountain gate. He wandered to a pavilion halfway up the mountain and sat on a lazy bench, thinking, “What the hell! I used to enjoy good food and wine daily, now I’m starving as a monk. Master Zhao hasn’t sent anything recently, my mouth is dry. How can I get some wine?” Just then, he saw a man carrying a load up the mountain, singing. The man had covered buckets and held a wooden scoop. He sang: 

“Before the Nine Mile Mountain, the battlefield, 

A shepherd boy picks up old swords and spears. 

The wind blows over the waters of Wu River, 

Like Lady Yu bidding farewell to the Overlord.” 

Lu Zhishen watched the man approach and rest at the pavilion. Zhishen asked, “What’s in those buckets?” The man replied, “Good wine.” Zhishen asked, “How much for a bucket?” The man said, “Monk, are you joking?” Zhishen replied, “Why would I joke with you?” The man said, “I sell this wine to the temple workers, sedan chair carriers, and old men for their livelihood. The abbot has decreed that if we sell wine to the monks, we will be punished, fined, and kicked out. We live in the temple’s houses and rely on the temple’s funds, how dare we sell to you?” Zhishen asked, “So you really won’t sell?” The man said, “Not even if you kill me.” Zhishen said, “I won’t kill you, I just want to buy some wine.” Seeing trouble, the man tried to leave, but Zhishen grabbed the carrying pole and kicked him, sending him to the ground. Zhishen took both buckets, opened them, and drank heartily. He finished one bucket in no time. Zhishen said, “Come to the temple tomorrow for the money.” The man, in pain and fearing the abbot’s wrath, didn’t dare ask for the money and quickly left.  

After sitting at the pavilion for half a day, the wine hit Zhishen. He stumbled down the mountain, sat by a pine tree, and the wine surged even more. Zhishen stripped off his robe, tied the sleeves around his waist, exposing his tattooed back, and waved his arms as he climbed. He looked: 

His head heavy, feet light, red-faced under the moon;  

Staggering and swaying, like a crane in the wind;  

Like a turtle out of water, he wobbled back to the temple.  

The gatekeepers, seeing him, grabbed bamboo whips and blocked his path, scolding, “You are a monk, how dare you come back drunk! Can’t you see the notice in the registry: any monk caught drinking will be flogged forty times and expelled; gatekeepers allowing drunk monks in will be flogged ten times. Leave now, or get whipped.” Zhishen, new to monastic life and still rough, shouted, “You want to hit me? I’ll fight you!” One gatekeeper ran to report to the overseer, while the other tried to block Zhishen. Zhishen pushed past, slapped the gatekeeper, sending him reeling. Zhishen punched him again, knocking him down, and then staggered into the temple. 

The overseer, hearing the report, gathered 20-30 workers and sedan chair carriers, all armed with wooden sticks, to confront Zhishen. Zhishen roared, charging at them. Not knowing he was a former soldier, they soon retreated to the storeroom and barred the doors. Zhishen broke through with a punch and a kick, scattering them. He grabbed a stick and chased them out. 

The overseer hurriedly reported to the elder. Hearing this, the elder quickly led three to five attendants to the corridor, shouting, “Zhishen, stop being rude!” Despite being drunk, Zhishen recognized the elder, dropped the stick, approached, and greeted the elder, pointing to the corridor. He said, “Zhishen drank two bowls of wine without provoking them, yet they brought people to fight me.” The elder said, “Look at my face, go sleep, and we will talk tomorrow.” Zhishen replied, “If I didn’t consider the elder, I would have beaten those bald donkeys to death.” The elder instructed the attendants to help Zhishen to his bed, where he immediately fell asleep, snoring loudly. The monks gathered around the elder, complaining, “We previously warned the elder, and now what? This temple cannot tolerate such a wild person disrupting our rules.” The elder replied, “Although he is causing trouble now, he will achieve great results later. For now, let us forgive him for Master Zhao’s sake. I will speak to him tomorrow.” The monks sneered, “What an unreasonable elder!” and dispersed to rest. 

The next morning, after the early meal, the elder sent an attendant to call Zhishen from the meditation hall. Zhishen was still not up. When he finally got up, he wore his robe, barefoot, and hurried out of the hall. The attendant, surprised, chased after him and found him relieving himself behind the Buddha hall. The attendant could not help but laugh. After Zhishen washed his hands, the attendant said, “The elder wishes to speak with you.” Zhishen followed the attendant to the abbot’s quarters. The elder said, “Zhishen, although you are a warrior, you were ordained by Master Zhao. I gave you the precepts: do not kill, do not steal, do not engage in sexual misconduct, do not drink alcohol, do not lie. These five precepts are basic monastic rules. The first rule is not to drink alcohol. How could you get drunk last night, hit the gatekeeper, damage the red lattice in the storage hall, and chase away the workers while shouting? Why did you do this?” Zhishen knelt and said, “I won’t do it again.” The elder replied, “Now that you are a monk, how could you break the precepts and disrupt the rules? If it weren’t for Master Zhao, I would expel you from the temple. Do not repeat this.” Zhishen rose, clasped his hands, and said, “I won’t do it again.” The elder kept him in the abbot’s quarters, prepared breakfast for him, and spoke kindly to him. He gave Zhishen a fine cloth robe and a pair of monk shoes, then sent him back to the meditation hall. 

Once, during the Tang Dynasty, a famous man named Zhang Xu wrote a piece called “Drunken Song,” solely about wine. It is excellent and goes: 

“Golden goblets brimmed with joy,  

Held with both hands, eyes twinkling. 

Stretching the neck like a jade rainbow, 

Swallowing it down, cursing the narrow rivers. 

Once serving a banquet before the Jade Emperor, 

Drinking opponents fewer than two or three. 

Ripe peaches piled on coral, 

Jade liquid poured, amber swirling. 

Drinking freely hundreds of cups, 

Skin glowing, cheeks slightly red. 

Heaven and earth know of my great capacity, 

Awarded three thousand measures. 

Immortals urged me, not counting, 

Intoxicated, my spirit clear and bones refreshed. 

The Eastern Lord commanded me to compose new poetry, 

Smiling, he pointed to the three mountains, praising my style. 

Casually writing five hundred words, 

Unaware my hat had fallen at the table. 

Confused after the feast, forgetting my return, 

Riding a phoenix, mistakenly entering a cloud palace. 

Immortal children helped me down from the purple cloud, 

Unable to distinguish east from west, north from south. 

One drink, a thousand cups, a hundred poems, 

Grass script scattered in wild strokes. 

When drinking, do not seek complete happiness. 

Commonly said, wine can make things happen or ruin them, 

Even the timid become bold, 

How much more so those with a high temperament.” 

Since Lu Zhishen caused a drunken ruckus, he did not dare leave the temple for three or four months. One day, in the intense heat of February, he left the monk’s quarters and wandered outside the mountain gate. He looked at Mount Wutai and marveled. Suddenly, he heard clanging sounds from the mountain base, carried by the wind. Returning to the monk’s hall, he took some silver and headed down the mountain. Passing under the archway of “Wutai Holy Land,” he found a market with five to seven hundred households. The market had butchers, vegetable sellers, and shops selling wine and noodles. Zhishen thought, “Damn it! If I had known about this place, I wouldn’t have stolen that wine. I could have just come down to buy some. I’ve been suffering with plain water for days. Let’s see what I can buy to eat.” The sound came from a blacksmith forging iron. Next door, a sign read “Father and Son Guesthouse.” 

Zhishen walked to the front of the blacksmith’s shop and saw three men forging iron. He said, “Hey, there! Do you have any good steel?” The blacksmith saw Zhishen’s newly shaved and stubbly beard, which made him look quite intimidating, and immediately felt somewhat afraid of him. The blacksmith stopped working and said, “Master, please sit down. What would you like to forge?” Zhishen said, “I want a meditation staff and a戒刀 (precept knife). Do you have high-quality iron?” The blacksmith replied, “I do have some good iron, but how heavy does the Master want the staff? As for the戒刀, just tell me your requirements.” Zhishen said, “I want a staff that weighs 100 pounds.” The blacksmith laughed, “That’s too heavy, Master. Even Guan Yu’s Green Dragon Crescent Blade was only 81 pounds.” Zhishen angrily replied, “Am I not as strong as Guan Yu? He was just a man!” The blacksmith said, “I mean no disrespect. It’s just that a 50-pound staff would already be very heavy. Let me make you a 62-pound water-polished meditation staff. If it turns out to be too heavy for you to use, don’t blame me. As for the戒刀, I will use the best iron I have.” Zhishen asked, “How much for both?” The blacksmith said, “I don’t haggle; the price is five taels of silver.” Zhishen replied, “Alright, five taels it is. If you make them well, I will give you an extra reward.” The blacksmith accepted the silver and said, “I will start right away.” Zhishen said, “I have some extra silver here; let’s buy some wine to drink.” The blacksmith replied, “Thank you, Master, but I need to get to work.” 

Zhishen left the blacksmith’s shop and walked twenty or thirty steps before he saw a wine shop’s banner hanging out. He lifted the curtain and went inside, sat down, and knocked on the table, saying, “Bring me some wine!” The shopkeeper said, “Master, I beg your pardon. This house and my capital are both owned by the temple. The elder has decreed that if we sell wine to monks, we will lose our capital and be expelled. I beg your understanding.” Zhishen replied, “Just sell me some secretly; I won’t tell anyone.” The shopkeeper said, “I can’t do that, Master. Please go somewhere else.” Zhishen had no choice but to leave, saying, “I’ll find wine elsewhere and then come back to talk to you.” He walked a few steps and saw another wine banner. He walked straight in and sat down, saying, “Shopkeeper, bring me some wine!” The shopkeeper said, “Master, you know the elder’s decree. Don’t ruin my livelihood.” Zhishen refused to leave, but after being denied multiple times, he left, realizing that no one would sell him wine. He thought of a plan: “I need to come up with a reason to get some wine.” In the distance, he saw a small village wine shop at the end of the market: 

The small village wine shop had been there for many years, nestled beside an ancient path lined with mulberry and hemp trees.  

There were white benches for guests to sit on and low fences made of thorny branches. 

They fermented yellow rice wine in broken urns, and a grass curtain hung over the door. 

The mud walls, plastered with cow dung, depicted wine immortals.  

Zhishen lifted the curtain and entered the shop, leaning against a small window. He called out, “Shopkeeper, passing monk here to buy a bowl of wine!” The villager looked at him and said, “Monk, where are you from?” Zhishen replied, “I’m a traveling monk passing through, and I want to buy a bowl of wine.” The villager said, “If you’re from the Wutai Mountain temple, I can’t sell to you.” Zhishen said, “I’m not from there. Just sell me some wine.” Seeing Zhishen’s appearance and unusual voice, the villager asked, “How much wine do you want?” Zhishen said, “Don’t ask, just bring large bowls.” After drinking about ten bowls, Zhishen asked, “Do you have any meat? Bring a plate.” The villager said, “We had some beef earlier, but it’s all sold out. Only vegetables are left.” Zhishen smelled meat and walked out to see a pot of dog meat cooking by the wall. He said, “You have dog meat. Why didn’t you sell it to me?” The villager replied, “I thought monks don’t eat dog meat.” Zhishen said, “I have money here.” He handed the villager some silver and said, “Sell me half of it.” The villager quickly served half a pot of cooked dog meat with garlic paste. Zhishen happily ate the meat and drank another ten bowls of wine, not stopping until he was full. The villager, stunned, said, “Monk, that’s enough!” Zhishen, glaring, said, “I’m paying, what’s it to you?” The villager asked, “How much more do you want?” Zhishen replied, “Bring me another bucket.” The villager brought another bucket of wine, and Zhishen drank it all, leaving with a dog leg in his pocket. As he left, he said, “I’ll be back tomorrow with more money.” The villager was left speechless, watching him head back to Wutai Mountain. 

Zhishen walked up to the mountainside pavilion, sat for a while, and felt the wine rising. He jumped up and said, “I haven’t exercised in a while. I feel stiff. Let’s practice a bit.” He rolled up his sleeves and began practicing moves. Using all his strength, he hit a pillar, breaking it and causing half of the pavilion to collapse. The gatekeepers heard the noise, saw Zhishen staggering up the mountain, and exclaimed, “Oh no! He’s drunk again!” They closed the mountain gate and barred it, peeking through the cracks. Zhishen reached the gate, pounded on it like a drum, and the gatekeepers dared not open it. After a while, he turned and saw the left Vajra statue. He shouted, “You big fool! You scare me with your fists? I’m not afraid of you.” He climbed up and pulled the railing aside like pulling onions. He picked up a broken piece of wood and hit the statue’s leg, knocking off mud and paint. The gatekeepers, seeing this, ran to report to the elder. Zhishen then turned to the right Vajra statue, shouting, “You’re laughing at me too?” He jumped up and hit it, causing a loud crash as the statue fell. Zhishen laughed, holding the broken wood. 

The gatekeepers reported to the elder, who said, “Don’t provoke him. Go back.” The head monk, overseer, and other officials all went to the abbot and said, “The wild monk is drunk and has broken the pavilion and statues. What should we do?” The elder said, “Even emperors avoid drunkards. What can I do? If he breaks the statues, let his patron Master Zhao replace them; if he collapses the pavilion, he must rebuild it. Let him be.” The monks said, “The statues are the guardians of the gate. How can we replace them?” The elder replied, “Even if he destroys the Buddha statues, there’s nothing we can do. Avoid him. Remember his previous rampage?” The monks left, saying, “What a foolish elder!” They told the gatekeepers, “Don’t open the gate. Just listen from inside.” Zhishen, outside, shouted, “Bald donkeys! If you don’t let me in, I’ll burn this place down!” Hearing this, the monks told the gatekeepers, “Unbar the gate and let him in, or he’ll really do it!” The gatekeepers reluctantly opened the gate and quickly hid inside. The monks also retreated.  

Lu Zhishen pushed open the monastery gate with all his might, stumbled in, and fell. He got up, rubbed his head, and headed straight for the meditation hall. The monks were meditating in the Buddha selection hall when they saw Zhishen lift the curtain and enter. They were all startled and lowered their heads. Zhishen approached a meditation bed, his throat gurgling, and vomited on the floor. The monks couldn’t stand the stench and exclaimed, “Amitabha!” while covering their noses. After vomiting, Zhishen climbed onto the meditation bed, untied his belt, and tore it apart with ripping sounds, then pulled out the dog leg. Zhishen said, “Good, good! I was just hungry.” He began to eat it. The monks covered their faces with their sleeves and moved away from him. Seeing them move away, Zhishen tore off a piece of the dog meat and offered it to the leading monk, saying, “You should have a bite too.” The leading monk covered his face tightly with his sleeves. Zhishen said, “You won’t eat?” and tried to force the meat into the mouth of another monk, who tried to leave the meditation bed. Zhishen grabbed his ear and forced the meat into his mouth. When several monks tried to stop him, Zhishen threw away the meat, raised his fists, and started punching the bald heads of the monks. The entire hall of monks shouted and ran to grab their robes and belongings. This chaos was called “the hall’s great dispersal,” which the head monk couldn’t control. 

Zhishen fought his way out, causing most of the monks to flee to the corridors. The monastery and temple managers did not inform the abbot. They gathered a group of monks and laypeople, including old monks, temple laborers, and porters, around one or two hundred people, all armed with sticks and staves. They tied handkerchiefs around their heads and charged into the meditation hall. Seeing them, Zhishen roared, grabbed the altar table in front of the Buddha, and pulled off two table legs, using them as weapons. He charged out of the hall. It was a fierce sight: 

His anger flared, and his mouth thundered. With his mighty eight or nine-foot frame, he exhaled determination that soared to the clouds. Unrestrained and courageous, he charged like a tiger or leopard leaping off a cliff; rushing like a wolf crossing a stream. Even the emperor would struggle to face him; even the Buddha would bow to him. He seemed like a kite with its string cut, a fire monkey freed from its chain. 

Lu Zhishen wielded the table legs and charged out. The monks, frightened by his ferocity, retreated to the corridor. Zhishen slammed the table legs to the ground and continued his onslaught. The monks quickly surrounded him. Zhishen, enraged, swung in all directions, sparing only those at the ends. He fought his way to the Dharma hall, where the abbot shouted, “Zhishen, stop this at once! Monks, do not engage him.” Seeing the abbot, the monks retreated, injured. Zhishen dropped the table legs and cried out, “Abbot, help me!” By then, he was mostly sober. The abbot said, “Zhishen, you are causing me great trouble. Last time, when you were drunk and caused a disturbance, I informed your patron, Master Zhao, who wrote to the monks to apologize. Now, you are drunk again, breaking rules, destroying the pavilion, damaging the statues. Your actions are intolerable. This sacred site of Manjusri, pure for thousands of years, cannot tolerate such defilement. Come with me to the abbot’s quarters for a few days while I arrange a place for you.” Zhishen followed the abbot. The abbot instructed the monks to settle the remaining monks back into the hall for meditation and to care for the injured monks. He took Zhishen to the abbot’s quarters for the night. 

The next day, the abbot discussed with the head monk and prepared some silver to send Zhishen away. He first informed Master Zhao. The abbot wrote a letter and sent two monks to Master Zhao’s estate to explain the situation and wait for a reply. Master Zhao, upon reading the letter, was dismayed and wrote back, “I will immediately provide funds to repair the damaged statues and pavilion. Please handle Zhishen as you see fit.” The abbot, receiving the reply, summoned a servant to fetch a black robe, monk’s shoes, and ten taels of silver. In his quarters, he called Zhishen and said, “Zhishen, your first drunken disturbance was a mistake. This time, you got drunk again, broke the statues, collapsed the pavilion, and disrupted the meditation hall. Your actions are intolerable. Given your patron Master Zhao’s kindness, I am giving you a letter recommending a place for you to stay. You cannot remain here. I have also written a verse for you to remember for life.” Zhishen asked, “Master, where should I go to find peace and purpose? Please teach me the verse.” 

The abbot pointed to Lu Zhishen and recited a few lines, directing him to a specific place. The verse promised: 

This man, with his staff, will fight the world’s heroes; with his sword, he will cut down treacherous ministers and unfilial sons. His name will be famous in the northern frontier, and he will achieve enlightenment in the southern regions. 

What exactly did the abbot say to Zhishen? Listen to the next chapter to find out.