As the story has unfolded, Li Er improperly informed on the bonze for a thousand strings of cash. He opened a fruit shop with the money, and one day that same bonze came around for alms, properly hoping that such a debt would be repayed. Contrary to his expectations he received a terrible scolding and threat, and so we now find him hurling Li Er to his death from atop a flagpole, right in front of Grand Dragon Bao! The governor found him upside down, feet in the air and head driven up into his chest, and began wailing and praying. Li Er's wife sobbed loudly and began the unavoidable task of arranging for removal of the body and for the funeral.

Now, that bonze remained seated atop the flagpole as a surging sea of people grew ever larger below. Some threatened to come up after him but were restrained by their associates. The Grand Dragon watched all of this and began to lose hope of catching the renegade. He had his men hack away with their swords and axes at the flagpole, as would have been fine with an ordinary one made of wood. But the National Shrine Temple's sixty-foot flagpole was cast of bronze, don't ask me how, and was not to be so easily chopped down!

The temple had three famous attractions, and one was the thirty-fathom-deep well in the main worship hall. It had a rope braided from human hair with a black laquered bucket, with red letters proclaiming that it was for the use of the public in the National Shrine Temple. Suddenly one day the rope of hair was cut and the bucket was not to be found. Later, somebody came to the temple bearing the bucket after a voyage on the East China Sea.

"I was a passenger on a boat in the Eastern Sea when I spotted this bucket floating by," said the man. "A sailor had just grabbed it out of the water and we were reading the letters on it when suddenly a strong wind and high waves arose, and our boat suddenly capsized. I swore that if I survived I would someday return this bucket, and then just as suddenly the wind and waves died down. So here I am, heart full of awe." With this, it was suddenly realized that the well was connected to the great East China Sea!

The National Shrine Temple also had the Yan'an Bridge with a grand view of the temple grounds, as famous as the well. And finally there was that great flagpole cast out of brass, unable to be broken or sawed. Altogether these were the three great attractions.

And so the monk just sat atop that famous brass flagpole hurling down abusive jokes at Governor Bao, who was becoming increasingly agitated and infuriated with his situation. Suddenly he was gripped by the notion of calling over a hundred crack bowmen from the infantry. They arrived on the double and were immediately ordered by the governor to surround the flagpole and shoot up at the sitter. There were some fine archers among those men and a lot of arrows reached the monks body, but he merely blocked them with the sleeves of his gown. Then just as Governor Bao seemed to be out of ideas who should step forward but that subordinate of Wen Dianzhi's, the police officer Ran Gui.

"Your lowly servant has a plan to capture the monk!" he announced.

"What have you come up with?" asked the governor.

"He's a sorcerer," said Ran, "so let's take the blood of pigs and sheep and mix it with horse urine and garlic. Then we apply this to the arrowheads and shoot them up at him. His sorcery will be powerless against it!"

Governor Bao was delighted to hear this and ordered that the pig and lamb blood, horse urine and garlic be obtained. Men split up in search of them, and upon return Governor Bao had them mix everything and apply it. Then the hundred bowmen were commanded to shoot the treated arrows up at the monk. They released their strings at once with a sharp raport. A hundred arrows shot skyward and the one or two thousand people inside and outside of the temple gasped as they beheld the sight of that monk falling through space, bench and all. "If he isn't dead," they all thought, "he will be soon!"

Now, over by the west side of the temple was a pool of urine, and the bonze came straight down and landed right smack dab in the middle of it. The police immediately began dragging him out, and when they got him to the edge they took that bucket of pig and sheep blood and sprinkled it onto his bald head. Then they bound him up with rope.

Governor Bao mounted his palanquin and rode back to the yamen where he immediately convened court, ordering the monk brought before him.

"You sorcerer monk!" he thundered. "How dare you practice your evil craft right under the Emperor's nose! Today I've captured you, and what are you going to do about it?" He then ordered a first class cangue brought forth and fitted to the bonze, who was to be taken to the west garrison headquarters for a thorough grilling and investigation to determine his identity and origins. There was a danger of associates of his being at large and they too had to be arrested and dealt with. Having ordered these measures the governor finally rested.

Now, the monk was all covered with urine and blood and was bound with rope, so he was unable to perform any magic. He arrived at the west garrison under escort of a squad of policemen who transmitted the governor's orders to the chief military interrogator."

"Sorcerer," began the interrogator, "I have been ordered by the governor to find out the truth about these devious acts of yours. Which monastary you must call your home, the number and identities of all your cohorts and accomplices and so forth. As you won't just tell us, it looks like we'll have to beat it out of you."

He then ordered the jailers to prepare a round of torture. They first locked the prisoners feet into another cangue so that he was totally immobile and delivered three hundred lashes upon him. The monk made not a sound, not even a whimper of pain, and when the interrogator looked closely the bonze was actually snoring. He pronounced it strange indeed and told the jailers to take him to his cell for awhile before resuming the investigation later.

Three daily rounds of tortured followed until the jailers themselves were exhausted. The monk seemed to be oblivious to the violence and made not a sound; whenever they beat him he just slept. The interrogator continued the grilling for over ten days before finally reporting in exasperation to the governor.

"I was directed to interrogate the sorcerer monk," he wrote, "and have accordingly tortured him three times daily for many days now. He just sleeps through the beatings. This sort of sorcerer is really difficult to handle, and I fear that trouble will arise if he stays here any longer. I await your orders."

"It's not at all desirable for a conjurer like that to be kept around so long!" agreed the governor. And so a document was handed down vaguely naming the laws that the monk had broken and ordering that he be executed in the city square. The military interrogator called for the monk to brought out, and transported him at once to the execution ground. His crimes were proclaimed in writing on a plaque in front of him; for the murder of Li Er, the infliction of sorcery upon the capital and the harming of the army and people, it stated, the convict would be executed according to law. It gave his full name as Pellet Bonze Dan.

Now, people throughout the capital city heard talk of the sorcerer monk's execution and business stopped as everyone came out to watch. They saw the prisoner being marched with that sign in front and a forest of sticks behind. At the city, custody was transferred from the west garrison staff to the executioner. The onlookers were packed solidly together. As the line of policemen and soldiers were marching the condemmed monk along, he noticed that they were nearing the center of town and just stopped in his tracks.

"Be a good man for once and move on!" said the executioner. "What's the matter?"

"Ladies and gentlemen!" proclaimed the monk. "This is all the result of just one little ill-advised prank I played on the governor. All of you, please! There is an inn up ahead. Won't you provide a bowl of wine for me before I'm cast out of this world forever?"

The executioner reckoned it was not an unreasonable request. Taking pity on the condemmed man he went to buy a bowlful of wine which he poured into a wooden ladel and served to him. The monk put his lips to the wine and managed to take in a good bit of it before the crowd impatiently surged ahead with him. They were gradually entering the execution ground when the monk suddenly spat that mouthful of wine up into the sky. All at once from out of nowhere that beautiful blue sky changed into a fierce squall of wind and rain. A sudden gust arose and a blackness covered the entire execution ground, and from overhead rooftiles and rocks began pelting the people. The crowd of onlookers all ran away.

In a few moments the wind passed and the blackness was dispelled. When the jailers, executioner, military officials and all the others looked toward their prisoner he had already burst his bonds and disappeared, and though they searched high and low not a trace of him was to found. As they say, once off the hook a fish doesn't hang around! And here is a poem:

And so all of them from the chief warder down to the jailers and the executioner were sorely vexed at the disappearance of the bonze. Fearing that the governor would hold them criminally responsible they ran around searching frantically for him.

"All of us," said one, "are really going to get it when we get back and report this to the governor!" And sure enough as soon as the Grand Dragon heard of it he convened a special session of his court. The warder led the others in confessing, all of them throwing themselves on the mercy of the court. Now by this time Grand Dragon Bao was well aware that sorcerers were appearing and that the imperial court should send armed troops. He was unwilling to wildly round up and destroy people and so he let those officials go free. He then worked late into the night preparing a memorial to the throne. If the sorcerers were not stopped in time, he wrote, they would be increasingly difficult to track down and annihilate. The Emperor then ordered local officials to conduct close surveilance of roads and towns, sparing no effort to root out the troublemakers.

Now in due time the imperial rescript reached Beizhou in the province of Hebei, where the local officials carved it onto a plaque that they hung in front of the yamen. A great commotion broke out, and just around that time a woman in mourning appeared in the streets carrying a basket. Back and forth she paced a number of times in front of the district yamen. She seemed to be one of life's losers, all alone and with too much gaudy makeup on her face. Still, she managed to arouse the interest of the idle men hanging around there.

"I've noticed you walking back and forth," said one. "What are you up to?"

"To tell the truth, brother, I've been widowed and I've got nowhere to turn to. But I have got something of mine to sell, and perhaps I can raise three hundred and fifty coppers to meet my expenses."

"Sis!" said the young man, "Exactly what sort of thing are you selling?

"I can't sell my wares in a crowded place," she replied, "I've got to have an open space to do business in."

"This place is fine!" said the youth. "And there are plenty of curious people passing by all the time."

The woman sat on the ground with her legs crossed. Now several more people had stopped to check her out, and their curiosity was further aroused. By this time there were twenty or thirty standing around her.

"Wonder what she's going to sell?" asked a youth. And as they watched she took a bowl out of her basket and looked up at them.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" she began, "I'm not some sort of deviant, nor am I a medicine hawker or fortuneteller. I've suffered unbearable hardship after the death of my husband but I've been able to put together a few coins to start this business. Now, which of you young men will go fill this bowl with water for me?"

"I'll go get it for you!" answered a youth.

A short while later he returned with the bowl of water. "Can't imagine what she could be up to!" said one of the crowd. "What could the water be for?" The woman then lifted the lid of the basket and took out a glinting knife.

"Why, she's about to perform magic!" shouted another. And as they looked on she scooped up some earth with the tip of that blade and ground it up before pouring some water from the bowl upon it and stirring up a lump of clay. Next she reached back into the basket for a bamboo cylinder and scooped up that clay, pushing it into the bamboo to mold a candle. When it was finished she placed it on the ground in front of her. One lump of clay followed another through the bamboo tube until she had made ten candles, all in a line before her. The crowd was doubled over in laughter and boisterous derision.

"What have we done to be made the butt of this woman's joke?" said one. "What is there to show for the entire morning? What use are those cracked and crude clay candles of hers?"

"Just be quiet and watch!" said another. "There's got to be some sense to it all!"

The woman then used the remaining half of the water in the bowl to wash her hands, drying them before addressing the crowd. "Because I am a widow I have no other way to live. I don't dare be greedy. I want only three pennies per candle and that should bring me thirty in all. Each of these candles will burn until dawn when placed in an ordinary lantern and lit."

The crowd just laughed. "This girl is making a joke of all us Beizhou folks!" they scoffed indignantly. "Hah, clay candles, and not even dry at that! How can they even catch? It's clearly an insult to our intelligence!" And so nobody came forth to buy.

"You Beizhou people are really a bunch of skeptics!" countered the woman. "Do you really believe I'd cheat you out of thirty coppers? Which of you fellows has got a light?"

One of the idle drones attached to the city morgue went into a tearoom to secure a burning coal and then brought it to her. She then reached into her basket for some sulpher-based starting powder and sprinkled it on the coal, and as it blazed up she lit one of the candles. The crowd gasped.

"What a miraculous trick!" said one. "Who wouldn't pay only three coppers for a damp clay candle that really works as advertised!" He immediately turned over his three pennies to the woman, who blew out the flame of that candle and handed it to him. In a short while all of the candles were sold. The woman got up and packed her knife and bowl away in the basket, said farewell to her public and was off on her way.

Next day she was back at that vacant spot and people flocked around her for a look. "Yesterday I sold thiry coppers worth, enough to live on for the day, and now sorry to say I'm back again!" she informed the crowd.

"Those three penny candles we bought yesterday were really something else!" shouted one. "Mine burnt all night long, till morning. The lantern was really bright and I saved ten coppers' worth of oil to boot!"

The woman then got some water, made herself a bit of clay and molded another ten candles. "No need to demonstrate!" shouted the crowd as they fought their way ahead to buy up her stock. Again the woman sold thirty coppers' worth and left. She continued to make only ten candles on each of the days she returned and customers just kept coming, many returning emptyhanded. In just half a day she had managed to stir up the entire district of Beizhou.

"There's a woman in front of the district yamen selling selling clay candles that burn really long and bright!" said everyone.

One of those days when she was about halfway through her presentation a man came out of the yamen. The crowd turned their heads in time to see a man called by destiny, a troop dispatcher in the district office by the name of Wang Ze. And just what sort of a man was he? Look at this Xijiangyue:

Now the father of this Wang Ze had been a very wealthy country squire of Beizhou. Having believed the words of a fengshui master he set his sights upon a certain auspicious tract of land, hoping to leave a great estate to his descendants. This plot of land, however, had been the site of a neighboring family's cemetary. So Squire Wang simply chiseled that family out of their land and reduced them to poverty with a single well-placed loan. He didn't bother to collect any payment on it for a few years while the interest accumulated. Then he suddenly called the loan in, demanding that land of theirs in payment. He next exhumed the coffins of the neighbors' ancestors and reburied his own family's dead in their place, and after the reburial his wife, Mumma Liu, became pregnant for the eight time.

Now, their firstborn had been a girl, while the next seven were all boys; Wang Ze was the fifth born. During the night of his birth Squire Wang dreamt that he met old granny Wu Zetian of the Tang Dynasty who had specially visited him for a short stay.

"A male child of fortune will be born to you," she had told him. "He will found a great undertaking and be a source of prosperity for this house." And sure enough when he awoke from the dream Mumma suddenly gave birth to a boy. Squire Wang was delighted and named his son Wang Ze after Queen Wu Zetian and his sudden birth, calling him "Fifth Fortune" as his customary childhood name. He proved himself to be clever early on and could read by the time he was five.

One fine day his maternal grandfather Liu Taigong came around and was filled with joy to see his seven nephews, especially bright little Fifth Fortune, and he made a little rhyme for the boy to try and answer.

"A boy of five already is the brightest in the land," he began.

"Hero of an awesome dynasty so rich and grand!" replied little Wang Ze without delay.

Liu Taigong felt truly proud and continued: "A mother brings forth seven sons among her brood of eight; the first a dragon and the last a tiger at the gate!"

"On horseback with a spear in hand three armies does he lead; he'll be a rebel if he fails, a king should he succeed!" shot Wang Ze right back. Liu Taigong was truly shocked.

"This child is very bright," he said, "but he's certain to cause a lot of excitement around here!" He then took his son-in-law aside for a word in private. "If Fifth Happiness lives to adulthood, you are not to teach him the martial arts!" he whispered. "I'm afraid his impulsiveness will get our family involved in something."

Some time later Wang Ze was at play in the street when a passing fortuneteller spotted him and froze in his tracks.

"This child's physiognomy is remarkable!" he said. "In the next three decades something is bound to happen to him, certainly a grave loss extending out to his entire family. Then and only then will his destiny be fulfilled." He then looked at the boy a bit more. "Only thing is," he continued, "I can't say for sure what exactly will happen or when."

The boy's nurse went to inform Squire Wang of the news, but when he came out to ask more details the fortuneteller had left. But sure enough a short while later when Wang Ze reached the age of seven his father fell ill and died. And after that his six brothers died of illness one by one. Mumma Liu was totally shattered and heartbroken and she too then succumbed to an illnes, leaving only her one surviving boy. Here is a poem:

At that point Liu Taigong also died, leaving the boy on his own without relations or elders to guide his moral development. And so by his mid-teens he had grown into a strapping young man who prefered cockfights and horses to study, and who drilled daily at combat with spear and cudgel. He brought a series of martial arts masters to live at his estate, and even summoned an artisan to tatto the character for "Fortune" in five places on his back. Another thing was his love love of all sorts of magic; he simply had to learn any new trick he encountered. It was just small-time play as he hadn't yet met a master who could pass any real genius on to him.

Now, this way of life cost him a very large amount of cash, and there was yet another thing: he had been fond of women since late childhood. If he set his sights on some housewife it was nothing for him to offer a hundred ounces of silver in order to get her in his clutches. Needless to say there were the ordinary prostitutes he kept. There was also an idle rascal he used as his procurer, and a large amount of money disappeared into his pockets as well. In ten years' time there was no money left to meet household expenses, and the fields and houses were sold to pay the bills. Forced to rely on his own physical strength and talents he joined the local military garrison and became a dispatcher of troops, living in rented civilian quarters in an narrow lane behind the yamen.

The woman he had been married to since childhood now died on him without issue, once again leaving the young man truly alone in the world. He frequented brothels and pleasure parlors and associated with life's losers, never taking another wife. Folks considered him unreliable and so no woman would have him. Even when one was attracted to him his wandering eyes would soon result in a rebuff. Alas, people who have known the best of times are hard to please, often doomed to loneliness and feeling ill at ease.

Come to think of it he did have one good point: he was ever so generous in his dealings with others. When he had no money he would just quietly pull in his belt and live meagerly. But as soon as he got some cash in hand he would wine and dine his few close friends. Now, if something were not quite to his liking he was quick to raise his fists and just punch away, and so people both liked and feared him. Well, I suppose you get the picture.

One day Wang Ze came in at the stroke of dawn for roll call. When his duties were over for the morning he went outside for a look round and saw a crowd watching something. When he tiptoed up and craned his neck for a look he saw a widow in mourning dress sitting on the ground. And when he looked more carefully this is what he saw:

"What's that woman up to?" Wang Ze asked one of her audience.

"I heard a while back that she sells clay candles," replied the man.

"I've been hearing about her in the yamen for a few days now. The learned officials where I work say that her candles burn on and on, and that they are very bright. I'd like to ask her why she calls them clay candles!"

"If you talk like that you'll frighten everyone!" said the man. "I'll tell you. She digs up a bit of earth and kneads it with some water. Then she takes that clay and uses a hollow bamboo cylinder to mold it just like a candle. You just put it in a lantern and light it, and it burns until morning."

"Now, that's what I call strange!" said Wang Ze. "I've always gone in for a bit of magic, and I could really impress people with a trick like that!"

And so he pressed on forward through the crowd just in time to see her washing up. "These candles of mine are three coppers apiece!" she cried out, and immediately everybody mobbed her to try and buy one.

"Careful!" shouted Wang. "Don't anybody buy one!" Now, they all recognised Wang Ze and knew he had some power, so none dared disobey. When the woman looked up and saw him she arose with a loud greeting, which he returned.

"How can these candles made out of clay ever burn?" he asked.

"Soldier, sir, I've been doing business here for two weeks and if they didn't burn all these folks wouldn't be here buying them! Every day I make only ten and it's never enough!"

"Don't play games with me!" he replied sternly. He then reached inside his tunic for his purse and took out thirty coppers to buy them all.

The woman then picked up the candles and handed them to him. "Now, careful!" he warned. "If these candles I've just bought won't burn, it means I've wasted my money. It's not that I don't believe you, I've simply never really seen or heard of such a thing. Could you just light one for me to see?"

"That's easy, soldier!" said the woman. "Just see if any of these people can come up with a light somewhere."

Wang got some hot some glowing kindling from one of her following and passed it to the woman. She then held the tip of the candle to the glowing stick for awhile untile it was ablaze, then lit the remainder of the ten for Wang Ze to see.

"Sure enough!" he exclaimed, "It's really amazing! I don't really need these candles, so those of you that want them just help yourselves!"

The crowd snapped them right up. Finally the woman put her bowl and knife into the basket, bade farewell to her public and left.

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