It was the Mid-Autumn Festival season, and eateries everywhere were offering seasonal snacks, among which was a sweet porridge made from lotus seeds, chestnuts, lotus root starch, and glutinous rice, called “Moon-Gazing Soup.” This porridge was a Mid-Autumn delicacy enjoyed by everyone from imperial nobles to common people, though the ingredients varied according to one’s means.
The Moon-Gazing Soup at this street-side shop contained only lotus root starch and a few old, plump lotus seeds. The bitter cores hadn’t been removed from the seeds, and they were stingy with honey, making it truly unpalatable.
Baozhu gently stirred the porridge in her bowl and voiced her doubts about the Guanyin statue at Changqiu Temple to Yang Xingjian.
Yang Xingjian pondered for a moment and said respectfully: “At that time, this subject was of humble status and could not enter the palace, so I was unfortunately unable to witness Your Noble Consort’s grace while she lived – a true regret. But Your Noble Consort’s incomparable beauty in those days captivated all beings. To curry favor with the imperial will, countless people composed poems for her based on imagination alone. Perhaps someone also created paintings or sculptures as memorials – who knows? Since it’s a Guanyin statue, it wouldn’t be inappropriate.”
Baozhu frowned and said: “The murals at Chanming Temple are one thing, but the Guanyin at Changqiu Temple should bear our ancestor’s appearance – a Buddhist statue from a hundred years ago. How could it resemble mother so closely? Could it merely be coincidence?”
Wei Xun grabbed a shop assistant, stuffed some copper coins into his hand, and inquired about the Guanyin at Changqiu Temple.
Hearing their non-local accents, the shop assistant smiled and said: “You gentlemen must have come to Luoyang specifically to watch the city procession, right? This grand event happens once a year and truly shouldn’t be missed. I just wonder which family’s fortunate young man will be chosen as the Guanyin servant this year.”
Wei Xun asked: “This matter of real people portraying Guanyin – when did it begin? I heard it wasn’t like this long ago.”
The shop assistant thought for a moment, then lowered his voice: “The story goes back to an incident seven or eight years ago, but that’s not something to discuss casually…” He paused meaningfully.
Wei Xun smiled and pulled out more than ten coins for him.
The man’s face broke into a smile as he quietly pocketed the money and said: “The earliest city processions were called ‘Image Parades’ – they would carry out Buddhist statues from various famous temples for citywide processions, allowing people to venerate and pray for blessings. What a spectacle that was, with Shakyamuni from Zongsheng Temple, Dipankara Buddha from Chongzhen Temple, Maitreya from Jingning Temple…”
Baozhu interrupted: “Focus on the Guanyin from Changqiu Temple.”
The shop assistant cautiously observed his surroundings and said in a low voice: “That year on the eighth day of the fourth month, during the Buddha Bathing Festival, the treasure cart carrying Changqiu Temple’s Guanyin suddenly collapsed in the crowd. The Bodhisattva’s precious statue fell to the ground, and both the golden exterior and wooden core were damaged. At that time, people in Luoyang were in panic, all thinking it was an ill omen. Sure enough, in the fifth month, news came from Chang’an of Your Noble Consort’s passing.
Changqiu Temple has been a place for empresses to worship Buddha since ancient times. That Guanyin statue was modeled after Empress Wu Zetian’s appearance when she was empress. Your Noble Consort enjoyed twenty years of exclusive favor, her status no different from an empress. The Buddhist statue symbolizing the empress fell and broke, and she too passed away – wasn’t this a predetermined sign? This matter involves the imperial family and cannot be discussed openly.”
Hearing this legendary story related to her mother unexpectedly, Baozhu felt both heavy-hearted and somewhat bewildered. She said: “When we went to worship at Changqiu Temple today, that Bodhisattva statue was standing perfectly fine on its lotus seat.”
The shop assistant said: “Of course they couldn’t leave the Buddhist statue damaged. Wealthy patrons naturally funded repairs and re-gilding. But the craftsmen’s skills were no longer the same as those from a hundred years ago, so after restoration it looked somewhat different from the original…”
Baozhu quickly asked: “Who were the patrons? And who were the craftsmen?”
The shop assistant said: “It was people from the City Patrol Guild, I believe. The festival happens once a year – they buy fireworks, organize performances, and profit considerably from it. But after repairs, they didn’t dare carry it out again, fearing another fall with bad omens. Some clever person came up with the brilliant idea of having real people portray Guanyin, which has now become the main attraction of the city procession, while other Buddhist statues have been neglected.”
The assistant chatted about Luoyang’s local stories for a while longer, but when other customers entered, he excused himself to attend to them.
Yang Xingjian dared not make rash judgments and remained silent. Baozhu was puzzled and confused, thinking to herself: Could there be admirers of mother in the City Patrol Guild who secretly arranged for the Guanyin to be restored in her likeness? Why exactly was that Buddhist statue damaged back then?
Originally, inquiring about the city procession was done with a thread of hope, wanting to use the auspicious omen of sweet dew to alleviate Wei Xun’s condition. Who would have thought this matter would also be vaguely connected to her deceased mother?
Seeing her grave expression, Wei Xun guessed she was missing family again and said: “Do you know that some things in this world appear mysterious but are actually just coincidental?”
Baozhu said: “I understand. Generally speaking, strange events that cause harm are called ‘demonic interference,’ while beneficial ones are termed ‘fortune’ or ‘destiny.'”
Shisan Lang looked at Baozhu, then at his senior brother Wei Xun, and said with certainty: “It’s destiny.”
Wei Xun glared at him and said: “One bowl isn’t enough to shut your mouth – do you need more?”
Shisan Lang smiled sheepishly. He was in a growth spurt with a bottomless appetite, finding even donkey fodder tempting. Seeing that Baozhu had stirred her Moon-Gazing Soup until it was stringy but had barely eaten any, he took her bowl and finished it in a few gulps.
Scraping the bottom of the bowl, he said: “We’re going to watch the excitement sooner or later anyway, so we can ask people from the guild then.” He then asked Baozhu: “You don’t like this – I suppose you’ve had much more delicious food before?”
Baozhu came back to her senses slightly and said: “In the palace… at home, the Moon-Gazing Soup at least contained cherries and longans.”
Shisan Lang asked in surprise: “Longans are southern produce – it makes sense your family could afford them. But cherries bear fruit in spring – how could you eat them during Mid-Autumn? Could it really be like the legend where Empress Wu Zetian commanded all flowers to bloom together in winter, and the flower spirits dared not disobey the imperial edict and obediently complied? Can your family really command spring fruits to appear in autumn?”
Baozhu laughed aloud and said: “You glutton, how can you believe such made-up stories? It was probably just that when vegetation withered in winter, palace maids made silk and velvet flowers to stick on trees for decoration.
As for cherries, they pick the first batch of fruit in spring, wash them clean with cold tea, dry them, then marinate them in honey for a hundred days, then take them out and soak them in aged wine for another hundred days. By Mid-Autumn, you can eat them. They look fresh and vibrant, no different from newly picked ones, suitable for cooking or arranging on fruit platters, except people with poor alcohol tolerance get drunk after eating just a few.”
Shisan Lang opened his mouth in amazement, thinking no wonder she often cried while eating when they first set out – the difference was indeed too great.
Speaking of getting drunk, Baozhu suddenly remembered being thoroughly intoxicated two nights ago. Though she couldn’t recall the specific details, her eyes involuntarily glanced toward Wei Xun’s face.
Wei Xun felt guilty and uncomfortable, turning his head to avoid her gaze. He said to Shisan Lang: “How refined. Someday I’ll climb the wall and steal a plate from her house, so we brothers can also taste what autumn cherries are like.”
Hearing him mention “climbing walls” and “stealing,” Yang Xingjian thought of this fellow’s skill at scaling roofs and walls – he might actually be able to infiltrate the deep palace. He quickly said: “You mustn’t speak such words carelessly!”
Wei Xun curled his lips, thinking to himself: The hibiscus flowers I stole by climbing the wall were still in her hair yesterday.
After finishing their snacks and resting briefly, the group returned to Changqiu Temple. It was now noon with the scorching sun overhead, making their heads burn and throats dry, yet the faithful who came to watch the Guanyin servant selection persisted in waiting.
The courtyard was packed with people shoulder to shoulder, chest to back, with only the burning-hot large incense burner having empty space around it. If not for fear of offending Buddha and Bodhisattvas, people would probably have climbed onto rooftops. Wei Xun carried his companions one by one over the temple wall, then used tremendous force to squeeze out a path, finally managing to enter the great hall.
At this time, the Guanyin servant candidates were already standing before the Buddhist statue, preparing to inquire about divine will. Nine candidates stood in a line, all beautiful young people in their prime. Except for Mi Falan who performed Sogdian dance, the others were all female. Duanchen, Shen Dexian, Cao Hong, Yao Jiangthen and others stood in the front row, solemnly waiting.
The candidates first kowtowed, burned incense, and prayed for guidance. Then Shen Dexian brought out a silver bowl from which everyone took something. Baozhu stood on tiptoe trying to see and discovered the bowl contained only ordinary copper coins.
She caught fragments of conversation from those nearby: “…only one boy this year…”
“Though it’s supreme honor… still reluctant…”
“Which one did you bet on? I wagered two hundred wen…”
Master Duanchen struck the copper bowl on the incense table and called out loudly: “All faithful believers, please calm your hearts and silence your voices to respectfully request the Bodhisattva’s guidance.”
Her internal energy was abundant, her voice clear and far-reaching. The people in the great hall immediately quieted down. Under the gaze of hundreds of spectators, the participating youths knelt on cushions, nervously sweating profusely.
Shen Dexian commanded: “Cast them.”
Several people simultaneously threw copper coins into the air. After the coins landed, surrounding people crowded to observe, followed by disappointed sighs.
Baozhu didn’t understand and asked someone nearby: “Is this how one consults Buddha? Two coins per person – how are the results interpreted?”
That person answered: “This is called divination. Previously they used six or twelve divination tools, but because many people made it easy to mix them up, it was simplified to two coins. Throwing two character-side faces up is a yang hexagram, blank backs are yin hexagrams – neither of these work. You must throw one face up and one face down – a ‘sacred hexagram’ – to be chosen by the Bodhisattva.”
Baozhu said: “Just now no one threw a sacred hexagram, so there won’t be a Guanyin servant this year?”
That person glanced at her strangely and said: “If this round doesn’t work, they just keep throwing.”
The youths picked up the coins before them. Shen Dexian struck the copper bowl again, and everyone threw once more – another complete failure. This was repeated seven times, and still no one threw a sacred hexagram.
Baozhu felt suspicious. A Kaiyuan Tongbao coin only had two sides. With nine candidates throwing continuously, logically all hexagram patterns should have appeared, yet no sacred hexagram appeared – almost all were negative double-backs.
She whispered to Wei Xun: “How strange. If this is divination for fortune or inquiring about divine will, after the Bodhisattva doesn’t respond once or twice, logically they shouldn’t keep asking. This isn’t a trial – how can there be continuous relentless questioning?”
Wei Xun said: “The City Patrol Guild organized this ceremony with great fanfare. So many people came just to watch the selection. If no one is chosen, how will they conclude? Naturally they must keep trying. At this point they can’t worry about respecting gods and Buddhas.”
This situation seemed unprecedented. The watching faithful gradually grew restless. After two more throws with no results, divine will was hard to fathom – had Guanyin taken a dislike to all this year’s candidates?
Shen Dexian remained calm, having the youths put their coins back in the silver bowl and bow again with incense, planning to repeat the entire procedure. Just then, someone in the crowd suddenly called out: “Look quickly! What’s on the Bodhisattva’s face?”
Everyone turned their gaze toward the Buddhist statue in the center of the hall. They saw the Guanyin’s face was moist, with some liquid gleaming. Her expression was solemn as she looked down upon all beings from above, and the faint smile at the corners of her lips seemed to have disappeared. Water droplets slid down her cheeks, dripping from her full chin.
“Guanyin is shedding tears!”
A voice shouted loudly. The great hall erupted in excitement, everyone shocked and pale. The watching crowd were mostly devout believers in gods and Buddhas. Witnessing this unprecedented omen, not knowing how to interpret it, panicked emotions spread like ripples, soon reaching throughout Changqiu Temple.
Wei Xun became alert, fearing another trampling tragedy like at Chanming Temple. He looked up to examine beam locations for footing, preparing to carry his companions up if the crowd panicked.
Cao Hong’s expression was grave as he shook his head: “Unclear hexagrams, Guanyin shedding tears – not a good omen.”
Master Duanchen stepped forward and announced loudly to everyone: “No selection this year!”
Upon hearing this, Shen Dexian immediately became anxious and hurriedly said: “Let’s try one last time. Perhaps someone was thinking random thoughts while divining, or maybe someone didn’t fast properly and angered the Bodhisattva.”
Mi Falan immediately showed a panicked expression, casting a pleading look toward troupe leader Yao Jiangthen, who only calmly patted her chest and pressed her palm downward, making a ‘don’t worry’ gesture.
The great hall buzzed with discussion. While several people were arguing, a young girl squeezed out from the watching crowd, walked past everyone to the front of the Buddhist statue, and turned to climb up onto the lotus platform.
“What are you doing? What are you doing?!”
Because of the recent failed inquiries and the omen of Guanyin shedding tears, the nuns guarding beside the lotus platform were all flustered, not knowing whether to stop her.
Wei Xun followed, grasping Baozhu’s foot and lifting her onto the lotus platform. Looking up, he asked: “What do you want to do? Do you need help?”
Baozhu pulled out a handkerchief from her bosom and said: “Seeing her like this… I can’t bear to watch her sad and tearful.”
She then embraced the Buddhist statue’s body and gently wiped away the ‘tears’ on Guanyin’s face with her handkerchief. Being this close, Baozhu missed her mother even more. Her eyes couldn’t help but well up with tears as she stood on tiptoe and pressed her cheek against the golden face.
Under countless watching eyes, after doing this, Baozhu put away the damp handkerchief and prepared to jump down from the lotus platform. But as she turned, her money pouch caught on the willow branch in Guanyin’s hand. She instinctively tugged, the pouch opened, and two golden Kaiyuan Tongbao coins fell out.
The hall fell silent as ravens. Over a thousand people watched those two gleaming golden coins fall from the air, drop onto the incense table, spin for a moment, then display their hexagram:
One face up, one face down – a sacred hexagram.
Author’s Note: The custom of divination by casting lots has existed since ancient times. During the Wei and Jin dynasties, six or twelve divination tools were used, but there are no records of how the hexagrams were interpreted. Here I’ve directly used the southern Chinese practice of throwing moon blocks, with results divided into sacred cups, laughing cups, and yin cups, representing auspicious omens, unclear signs, and inauspicious omens respectively.