The 6th year of the Wude reign of the Great Tang, Huoyi County in the Hedong Circuit.

The county office stood in the eastern part of the city, facing the busy main street. The entrance faced south and opened outward with its distinctive angled walls, upon which various proclamations were posted, faded by sun and rain into mottled colors. When the wind blew, tattered scraps of paper tore away from the walls and were carried off into the distance.

Huoyi was an important town in Hedong, a mandatory stop on the route from the Puzhou river crossing to Taiyuan — bustling with people and travelers, an exceedingly lively county seat. On this particular dusk, amid the surging crowd on the main street, a monk in a gray robe and straw sandals approached from afar. In his hand he held a wooden fish of red sandalwood, and the mallet in his hand beat it in a steady rhythm, producing a deep, resonant sound utterly at odds with the clamor of the busy street.

The monk reached the outer angled walls of the county office, glanced at the grievance drum mounted on the steps, and did not go to beat it. Instead he broke into a strange smile, his hands still tapping the wooden fish, and lifted his foot to climb the steps.

In the second hall, Huoyi County Magistrate Cui Jue was reclining against a red-backed embossed wool felt rug, leafing through the case files on his armrest table. Just then, a noisy commotion erupted outside the ceremonial gate — the wooden fish rang out one beat after another, reverberating through the air.

“What is the matter?” Cui Jue said in displeasure. This county magistrate was twenty-eight years of age, refined in appearance, with a faint smile habitually on his face. Even wearing his green official robe and the soft-footed headwrap of an official, he possessed none of the stern bearing one might expect — he was languid and loose, carrying the elegant air of a noted gentleman of the Wei-Jin era.

A clerk came running in from outside: “Your Lordship, there is a monk outside who has forced his way in, insisting on seeing Your Lordship in person. I told him Your Lordship was attending to official matters and would be informed shortly, yet he began striking his wooden fish with great force.”

Before the clerk had finished speaking, amid the beat of the wooden fish, a Buddhist verse rang out: “A single bowl for a thousand households’ rice; a solitary monk wandering ten thousand li. For the matter of life and death, I beg alms through the seasons. Honored Magistrate, this poor monk has traveled ten thousand li to come before Your Lordship, seeking to beg a karmic favor.”

Cui Jue smiled: “This monk is rather interesting. Please invite him in.”

Led by a yamen runner, the monk walked into the hall with a serene expression. Without waiting to be invited, he sat cross-legged directly opposite Cui Jue.

“What is this master’s dharma name?” Cui Jue saw the monk’s rough manner and did not rise, asking indifferently.

“Dharma name? What is that?” The monk rolled his eyes and said coldly, “For a single karmic tie before the Buddha, why let names defile the world?”

“Oh?” At this time the Chan school had not yet flourished, and the Pure Land school prevailed throughout the Great Tang; monks skilled in verbal sparring were rare. Cui Jue found himself intrigued, and asked with a smile, “Monk, where have you come from, and where are you going?”

“From the womb I came, and to my Buddha’s alms bowl I go,” said the monk.

Cui Jue was helpless: “Then… what has the venerable master come to find this official for? What karmic favor do you wish to beg?”

“What this poor monk wishes to beg, only Your Lordship possesses, and so I have traveled ten thousand li to come here. I only do not know whether Your Lordship will grant it,” the monk said arrogantly.

Cui Jue laughed despite himself: “What could this official possibly have that others lack?”

“Your Lordship’s life!” the monk said with an eerie smile. “That head upon your neck, that skin surrounding your body.”

Cui Jue’s expression changed. Rising from his kneeling seat, he fixed the monk with a darkened gaze: “Is the venerable master joking?”

“Along this road, the frost and wind have worn through three monk’s robes, and the yellow earth has worn out nine pairs of straw sandals,” the monk said slowly. “Only the wooden fish in my hand grows smoother with each stroke, so smooth it can reflect my heart. Whether this is in earnest, I myself can see with perfect clarity.”

Cui Jue’s expression grew grave. He observed that the monk was about thirty years of age, with rough and slightly dark skin, a face weathered by wind and frost, his monk’s robe patched upon patch upon patch, long since too tattered to hold its shape. His straw sandals had even worn through the soles entirely, his heels bare against the ground. His large hands had wide knuckles and thick calluses. It was evident he had truly walked ten thousand li, and was not here to joke.

“How would this official’s life come to interest the venerable master?” Cui Jue’s mind slowly steadied, and a smile even returned to his face.

“You were born in the 14th year of the Kaihuang reign of the former Sui dynasty. By age three you could recite the Analects; by age seven you could compose essays. At barely twenty, your name was already known throughout all of Sanjin; your poetry and prose were acclaimed as the finest of the former Sui, and people of the time praised you as ‘Fengzi’ — thus you took Fengzi as your sobriquet. Yet your fate has been fraught with misfortune, and throughout your life you have found no fulfillment. After coming of age, before you had even had the chance to make your mark, Emperor Yang of the Sui launched three campaigns against Goryeo, the realm fell into turmoil, and the people could find no peace — you had no choice but to retreat into the mountains for refuge, and so you remained for five full years. Does Your Lordship feel sorrowful that the ambitions of your youth were never realized?”

The monk’s words stirred a surging tempest in Cui Jue’s heart. His composed expression slowly turned ashen, and after a long silence he murmured, “It is exactly as the master has said.”

The monk paid no heed and continued: “Five years later, the current Emperor was the garrison commander of Taiyuan; hearing of your great reputation, he summoned you as a staff officer of his garrison headquarters. You believed this was your chance to rise and fulfill your aspirations. Yet unexpectedly, the very next year the Emperor raised troops in rebellion against the Sui. When the Emperor had established the Great Tang, things had been on course — had nothing gone amiss, you would have followed him into Chang’an, and by now you would surely be a high official at court. But it so happened that at the great battle at Huoyi, you rendered a great merit that changed the course of your entire life. The Emperor was blocked; you, Lord Cui, offered a stratagem — encircling and luring the enemy — and routed the Sui forces of Song Laosheng. Thereupon the Emperor appointed you county magistrate of Huoyi, to guard this key passage. When Song Jingang’s great army pressed to the city walls, you dared to launch a night raid with only three hundred militia. When the garrison commander Xun Xiang tried to defect to the enemy, you concealed a blade and went to his mansion to assassinate him. When Huoyi fell, you led the entire city’s people into refuge in the Huo Mountains, not leaving a single grain of food for the enemy. After Liu Wuzhou and Song Jingang were destroyed, you governed Huoyi so that nothing lost on the road was stolen, no doors needed to be bolted at night, and all the people lived and worked in peace and contentment. I ask you: with such great merit, why, after so many years of the Emperor’s reign, are you still merely a county magistrate?”

Listening to this monk recount the story of his first half of life in such vivid detail, Cui Jue was struck dumb as wood, clutching the scroll in his hand, his knuckles pale: “I beg the master to enlighten me.”

The monk suddenly thundered: “Your heart is a fire like the Ni Li hells, ever ready to kindle nameless flames. In the three thousand realms of this world of suffering, it burns a hole right through iron! Your appearance may seem frail and scholarly, but your eyes burn with naked, unmasked ambition and desire. In this world, there is no position that would ever be your final stop — you are never satisfied, never weary. For one who holds power above you: if he does not know where your desires lie, how would he dare employ you?”

Cui Jue trembled, and fell into deep thought.

“Ha ha! This poor monk will point you toward a clear path,” the monk laughed strangely. “Your Lordship, do you know of the ghost world in the west — the Ni Li Prison?”

“The Ni Li Prison?” Cui Jue was puzzled for a moment. Having read widely in all doctrines, he was naturally not unfamiliar with it, and nodded. “According to Buddhist teaching, the Ni Li Prison is one of the six realms of the desire world. Buddhism has the Sutra of the Eighteen Ni Li Prisons, which states that after death, those who have done much good ascend to heaven, while those who have done much evil enter the Ni Li. There are eighteen divisions in all — eight hot, eight cold, and the wandering-increase and solitary — each distinct. It has also been translated as ‘Ni Li Ye,’ ‘Nalaka,’ and others also call it ‘diyu,’ the earthly prison.”

The monk flicked his prayer beads and smiled: “The name Fengzi is truly well-earned. This poor monk wishes to take Your Lordship on a visit to the Ni Li Prison. Would Your Lordship be willing?”

Cui Jue was thoroughly stunned.

“There is a king of the Ni Li, named Yan Mouluo, who wishes to reopen the Ni Li Prison in the eastern land, to govern the cycle of Ni Li reincarnation and pass judgment on the good and evil of the six realms. But there is still one judge’s position unfilled. Your Lordship’s wisdom surpasses all in the eastern land, penetrating the hearts of men. The people of Huoyi say Your Lordship judges good and discerns evil without a single error. The hundred thousand clever minds of Huoyi could not match Your Lordship’s seven-aperture heart. The Ni Li is a place of filth, where all the evil of the mortal world is gathered — it is just right to use Your Lordship’s boundless fire of ignorance to suppress that wickedness and impurity. I wonder what Your Lordship thinks?”

The monk smiled placidly, an uncanny light burning in his eyes.

“This official… I… I…” Cui Jue was lost for words, sweat pouring from his forehead like rain, unable to reply.

“You have squandered great talent; your heart’s ambitions cannot open. This mortal world is already beyond you — the Ni Li Prison may be the place where you can finally spread your wings.” The monk laughed heartily. “This poor monk has said all he has to say. Whether to accept this karmic bond or not is for Your Lordship to ponder yourself.”

With that, the monk laughed wildly and strode out of the county office. Night had long since fallen; the yamen was dim and eerie, with only the distant sound of the wooden fish fading into the distance.

That very night, Huoyi County Magistrate Cui Jue hanged himself with a strip of white silk from a tree in the courtyard before his quarters.