Wu Jin Zang. Pang Bei

after three generations. “What is a similar situation like the before! Who would care about the Buddha?”

      The ancient poet Lu Fangweng also exclaimed in his History of Southern Tang as follows, “Tang, which occupied the Yangtze River and the Huaihe River, had a larger area and more powerful resources than other regimes. In addition, thanks to numerous talents and a strategic position in the Yangtze River, it was obviously a large country. If it used the right talents to conquer Min and Chu during their turmoil, then took Wu and Yue, and went down the Five Ridges, uniting the south and the north to form a large kingdom, the Central Plain, though overweening, would not have defeated it so easily!”

      “Past sages often exerted themselves, concerned with the state and not seeking self-interest. Extensive reading acquainted them with events of 1000 years and people of remote antiquity.” Among the many factors that could have changed the destiny of Southern Tang, a critical figure was Lin Renzhao, who for Southern Tang was just as Yuan Chonghuan for the Ming dynasty. They were both “Great Wall for the country”, but last kings were wont to “destroy the Great Wall by themselves”.

      Lin Renzhao (?-973), a famous general of Southern Tang, was a native of Jianyang. The Lin’s Genealogy in Jianyang had Lin Renzhao as the ancestor, and The Name of the Nun is about the catastrophe in the mid autumn of the sixth year of the Kaibao period. The name of the narrator in the original work is unknown, but his identity is undoubtedly Lin Renzhao’s son. In terms of age hierarchy, he should be the second generation in this Lin’s genealogy. His name should be available in the genealogy, but unfortunately the words in this part are vague and cannot be identified, as the page is full of fingerprints and dark bloodstains.

      History only engraves the list of victors, while the truth is found in the crevices of lies and individual memories. In the words of Walter Benjamin, this work displays the “personal experience from far away”, a “scene of fate”. This scene is shrouded in a gloomy, cold and frothy haze, and I see its re-appearance in the haze and mirage. Scientists say that the Fukushima Earthquake shortens the time of auto-rotation of the earth. In the postscript of The Name of the Nun, the ancient also lamented that “the days and months go by more swiftly”. The verification in the unseen world gives me the creeps!

      A manuscript that has been buried in dust for one thousand years, and a privately collected “faithful historical account” are the predestination and truthful depiction of the state of Southern Tang, and the prophesy and miniature of all dynasties. People were gone, while books stay, which is the destiny of books, and also of people. Xiao Lin said that he saw his own shadow in the mirage of ancestors. This was actually a great reincarnation. He said that his ancestors’ aspiration was his own, and that his ancestor’s work was his own. He said he would bear witness to both the history and himself.

      Someone has noted that all rivers belong to one river, and I would say that all deaths amount to the same end. A book is no more important than a person’s life, but now that Xiao Lin’s life is gone, this manuscript bears evidence to the fact that he once lived. While I bear witness to Xiao Lin, I also prove my presence. Fate fiddles with mortals, including silly people like me. In my dull imagination, Childe Lin just presents Xiao Lin. What kind of heredity will the millennium’s gene of a family be like? I have seen the coincident images in a vision of infinite time and space, which are the true images I get. Such a precise sense of reality is just like the book on my desk.

      What I know about the story of poor Xiao Lin is only such hearsay and impressions, in addition to these broken memories. I should have paid a visit to that small city in the south. But my top priority after just recovering from a dangerous illness is to acquaint more people with this book. Considerate readers may forgive me and even thank me. I share this story with you in order to rescue a kind of memory, which is in fact also our only way to resist amnesia. As to this little brother of mine, it would be impossible for you to grudge your sympathy for his personality and lot; after reading his book, it would be impossible for you not to be affected.

      As the editor of this book, I naturally feel awed and treat it with fear and trembling. Xiao Lin did not add a line in translating the book; I was even more deterred from altering one word. I am deeply convinced that a good book lasts longer than a person’s life. I want to cast my own shadow on this work which is expected to stand the test of time. As preface, afterword and comments were taken advantage of by ancient people to leave their names, I attempted to add an editor’s note to the text. Life cannot prove itself and can be alive only in other people’s memory. Readers, please forgive my ludicrous vanity! Some fragments of memory are frozen in old pictures. Xiao Lin in memory is just like my past self, and my genuine self over two decades ago. But now he has become a fading phantom, but who among us is not but a phantom!

      All pages are full of absurd words, soaked with bitter tears. Please forgive me for being necessarily verbose. As I have studied astronomy, I am deeply aware of the significance of gazing at stars. Tonight’s moonlight is very good, and I feel especially refreshed. I know that I have been losing my head in my previous twenty-plus years and that I have the hope for salvation now. At such an age when I will no longer be forgiven for making a mistake, I must be very careful in everything. I am deeply aware of my own damning sins, so despite the fact that I have tried to do this good deed to the best of my abilities, I am unwilling to leave my name.

       Volume I

       A Taoist Hermit

      The sky rained millet. Ghosts cried at night. Legend has it that when Cang Jie succeeded to invent the Chinese characters. Heaven and earth could no longer conceal their secrets, thus the sky rained millet; deities and ghosts could no longer hide themselves, thus they cried at night. In the remote antiquity, no characters were available, until Fu Xi drew the tri-grams, which gave rise to culture in the world. Fu Xi drew the eight tri-grams, followed by the creation of characters by Cang Jie.

      Cang Jie was a legendary figure, who was also said to be a historian official of the Yellow king Xuanyuan. Cang Jie’s creation of characters was an effort defying the achievements of heaven and earth, thus not brooked by them. No secrets could be concealed in the universe, and therefore the sky rained millet.

      The sky rained millet. Wind and thunder arose. Auspicious air built up. Such abnormal phenomena never appear later.

      The law of Heaven repeated itself in endless cycles. Later generations were indeed not as lucky. Despite the numerous people looking up and down, no one had been fortunate enough to spot that miracle again.

      Time elapsed quickly, and another dynasty was in place. In October of the first year of the Shengyuan Period, a group of fishermen claimed that they had witnessed this wonder. It was the day when Li Bian, the founding king of Southern Tang, ascended to the throne. Over the capital in Jinling curled purple air, and all people celebrated this great event. Before the Shengyuan Hall many elephants danced and officials hailed. Fishermen came to the royal palace from riverside, holding millet that had fallen from the sky in their bamboo hats. The director of the court of sacrificial worship introduced those offering millet to the throne. The founding king looked greatly pleased, delighted beyond measure. Carillons sounded together, and phoenixes sang in harmony. The king ascended to his throne and offered an encomium, “The heaven bestowed an auspicious sign upon the start of my dynasty. The world enjoys peace and prosperity. The great Tang will flourish for its benevolence. Cang Jie had four eyes, and my grandson’s pupils double for his excellence. The sky rained millet” The founding king’s countenance was suddenly changed, and all officials and officers in court lied prostrate. The sky rained millet, and ghosts cried at night. If the former was an auspicious sign, wasn’t the latter an ill omen?

      A review of all the extant official historical records about Southern Tang only found some scattered records about the auspicious sign which people of the whole country celebrated. Carved railings and jade inlays were still present, yet how could one stand the sorrows of past events. The state was destroyed, the king surrendered, and Southern Tang was gone like smoke and ashes. This short-lived large state of Jiangnan lasted only three generations for thirty-eight years, with First King, Middle King and Last King.