Wu Jin Zang. Pang Bei

Karma Temple for a short time, I came here by riding on a horse, in the hope that he could explain it to me, as he could probably tell me why Father left me this scroll of painting, and how this scroll might stave off disasters falling on my family. (The editor’s note: the Karma Temple is today’s Qixia Temple.)

      Unexpectedly, Mother did not know anything about this painting! So Father kept the secret from Mother. I suddenly felt rather strange about Father. Awe-inspiring Father, taciturn Father. What secret was concealed in his taciturnity? Would Father conceal his concerns from the king?

      All trees wailed with the sound of autumn, and all hills were enshrined by coldness. Bells and drums sounded, and yellow leaves whirled. The king’s carriage was going down a hill. This was a regular pilgrimage in mid autumn. The king had built numerous temples and raised countless monks. This year, he visited the Karma Temple in mid autumn, where there was a stupa reconstructed by Father. The King would return to his palace as soon as he went down the hill, as he would appreciate the moon together with Junior Consort Zhou. In the prison of the Ministry of Penalty near the royal palace, Father was waiting for the verdict from the king.

      I looked at the imperial passageway winding through pines and bamboo groves. Carriages and horses trooped along; smoke and dust billowed up. The imperial carriage was attended by guards of honor holding golden and silver weapons as well as dragon and phoenix flags and banners. The king’s carriage troop was meandering afar. I rushed down the path for several steps, and then climbed up to an old camphor tree. If I had mastered archery as Father did, would I run after to shoot the fatuous and self-indulgent ruler? I speculated it over in my mind. But I did not have this nerve, nor was I as strong as Father. I went uphill by horse, and the horse was only a tool to save my legs from walking. I regretted that I had no hunting crossbow on hand. (The editor’s note: The crossbow is a kind of bow, which uses a mechanical device to shoot an arrow instead of human power, and is precise and powerful, traveling far.) Father started from scratch as a warrior. Despite his prestige earned through military exploits, he was unwilling to see me follow his footsteps. At my birth, they held a rite of shooting arrows made of grass with a bow of mulberry wood in the hope that I would go far away from my home and aspire to a great career. However, since I fell off the horseback when I first learned to ride a horse, Father had forbidden me from stepping in the polo field. I remember that was the autumn of the year when I was twelve. Of all the many wealthy and influential clans in the imperial capital of Jinling, the Lin’s family was the only one famous for its polo field, which turned out to be my forbidden field. The place designated by Father for me was the study. I respectfully followed Father’s order and gave up the ambition to gallop a horse conquering. Father wished that I became a civilian court official serving the king and benefiting the people, or an upright minor official living on a regular emolument. I had been steeped in those ancient books on self cultivation, family harmony, country management and world peace, but was only a scholar who had never set foot in battlefield. It had always been difficult for me to deal with the questions in imperial examinations, so I had always been dreading the failure to pass the examinations. Not good at riding or shooting, ignorant of world affairs, and not motivated, I was just a good-for-nothing feeble intellectual. But Father left me a scroll of painting to be opened at the time of catastrophe.

      To rescue Father from the fatal disaster with a scroll of painting, I could not figure out a good idea for the moment. Did Father want me to find somebody to rescue him from the jail? The only soldier in the painting was Father himself. Father could have escaped by killing the imperial guards. Since he had not resisted but allowed himself to be seized without putting up a fight, he did not expect anybody to break into his jail to rescue him. Did Father want me to present the painting to the king? But I knew that the king had already seen it. It was the king who dispatched two academicians awaiting orders, Gu Hongzhong and Zhou Wenju, to steal into the Han’s Residence. They spied on and made a mental note of what they saw in the banquet. When they painted what saw and presented it to the king, the king only had a good laugh and did not keep the painting as a treasure. How came the hand scroll become Father’s collection?

      Four hundred and eighty temples of Southern Dynasties still remain; So many pavilions, terraces and towers are veiled in the misty rain!

      Looking down at the torrential river water running eastwards, I thought of those ships and iron chains sunken underneath it over hundreds of years. I looked afar at the capital city intoxicated in wine and pleasure and speculated how many buildings and legends long buried under the city walls and moats. Gazing at the misty rain delineated by ancient poets, I seemed to see numerous secret treasures hidden in these ancient temples. Father hid the scroll of painting in the scroll of another painting, while that eminent monk was in the painting.

      Monk Deming, versed in Buddhist sutra, was also a celebrated painter. He once obtained a jinshi academic degree but was dismissed for speaking bluntly. As a result, he gave up his aspiration for an official career and dedicated to studying Buddhism. But now he was not in the Karma Temple. The abbot said that he had returned to the Qingyuan Mountain. I stood before the cell where Monk Deming had stayed, and went to draw water from the well. I drank to my full half a ladle of clear and sweet water and saw my own reflection in the well. Legend has it that when General Hou Jing fled to the Qixia Mountain after being defeated, he threw the emperor’s chop into the well. A monk of the temple salvaged the chop and presented it to Emperor Wudi of Chen. This ancient temple had too many legends, but none of them was related to me. I only wanted to locate the person that might help me as soon as possible. Monk Deming was not in this temple. I blankly looked at the board on the door head of the abbot’s room, a “virtual white plaque” of white characters inscribed on a black background: overcome all pains and hardships.

      The inscription was written by Xu Xuan, Minister of Personnel. The calligraphy was plain, dignified, solid, staid and elegant, harmonizing variations and ingeniously using round strokes to compose square characters. The inscription of the board above the gate of the temple was also written by Xu Xuan, who had a villa here on a manor land granted by the king to the west of the temple with luxuriant ancient trees.

      Minister Xu was a man of simple character, a virtuous and learned scholar equally famous as Han Xizai. They were mentioned together as “Han-Xu” among the literati south of the Yangtze River. That is to say, Han and Xu were both celebrated for their writings and calligraphy in the country. Xu Xuan, a good friend of Han Xizai, started his official career later than Han, and was guided and supported by Han in his early years. Also, Xu’s son-in-law Wu Shu, who wrote exceptionally well, was also thought highly of by Han. After the death of Han, of the “Han-Xu” duet, only Xu Xuan remained, who was esteemed as the leading scholar by the intelligentsia. Minister Xu also used to frequent the banquets held in the Han’s Residence, but Xu did not appear in the painting. I indeed did not see him that night. Now that I had escaped to this hill, I was determined to visit him. Minister Xu, a celebrated Hanlin academician and also a valet of the king, might be able to give me some support. Erudite Minister Shang was a rare wise man among officials of the court. When he was Chief Censor, an elephant died suddenly in the northern royal garden, and the cook tried to find its gallbladder in vain. The king sent someone to ask Xu Xuan, who answered that the elephant’s gallbladder was in its front left foot. The cook cut the front left foot and it turned out that the gallbladder was there. According to Xu, the gallbladder’s position changed with change of seasons. As it died in spring, its gallbladder was in its front left foot.

      The elephant symbolizes peace. The king sits facing the south, his left being the east, which corresponds to spring of the four seasons. To knowledgeable Xu Xuan, the secrets in the scroll could be instantly decoded.

      Minister Xu’s villa was magnificent and spacious. I showed my visiting card at the sedan chair hall with overhanging eaves and jet angles. The doorman appeared to be reluctant, saying that Minister Xu did not meet any stranger. I produced two pieces of silver and placed one on the visiting card. The doorman said since I was General Lin’s son, I presumably was not a stranger, but he added that Minister Xu happened to have caught a cold and would probably not meet any guest. Seeing him gazing at the other piece of silver on my hand, I said that if I could meet Minister Xu, I would give more. I placed the other other piece on hand on the visiting card, and the doorman praised me for “knowing worldly affairs”. He trotted in to report, while I waited quietly