A Prophet - Chapter 13 (Part 5)

Chapter 5 - Secret Meeting with Mei Xuanzi 

The Buddha said, "All dharmas are empty, but cause and effect are not empty; karma repays in kind, following us like a shadow." A person may disbelieve everything, but cause and effect are impossible to evade. What men do, Heaven is watching; for every action and movement, Heaven keeps a ledger. The Black-Hair Coffin, the betrayal of the gang leaders, the ghost general storm, the assassination attempt at Xiyalaou, imprisonment in the puppet state of Manchukuo, the choice between life and death... These successive events left Master Zu feeling profoundly exhausted. Yet he could blame no one; this was the path he had chosen himself. Reflecting on his years in the underworld, it had been nothing but deception upon deception. Day in and day out, filled with scheming, fighting, and killing, after all is said and done, he had finally maneuvered himself right onto the blade's edge!

For the first time, he reflected on whether joining the "Jiangxiang School" had been right or wrong. He thought of Zhang Dancheng—so imposing and commanding the winds and clouds, yet what had become of him in the end? Without wife or child, he had departed in fragmented sorrow, shedding tears; he had thought of Qiao Wumei—dominating both the underworld and high society, calculating every twist of heavenly fate, yet failing to calculate that she would die a sudden death; he had thought of Zhang Jiyao—playing the savior of the world his entire life, only to die a tragic death inside his own Bagua furnace; and the next one might very well be himself...

Master Zu even began to envy Liang Wenqiu, envying him for having a fine Grand Master and for being able to embark on a brand-new life. As for himself, he was riding a tiger and unable to dismount, stepping out into a void!

Master Zu was not afraid of death, but he knew his work was not yet finished. Every endeavor with a beginning must have an ending; no matter how heavy the burden, he had to carry it onward. This time was not for himself, and even less for the "Jiangxiang School," but for the Great China! Master Zu began to ponder his next countermeasures. This move was perilous; the slightest misstep would lead to total defeat. His own life was unimportant; what mattered was where the Chinese "sectarian sects" would head, what the Japanese would do next, and what fate awaited the Chinese nation.

Over all these years, Master Zu had orchestrated countless schemes and had never feared anything, but this time he was afraid. He could not afford to lose; to lose meant becoming a sinner through the ages. Master Zu racked his brains, pondering a strategy to break the stalemate, and finally, he found his breakthrough.

That night, taking two trusted foot soldiers with him, he went to the "Plum Blossom Society" for a secret meeting with Mei Xuanzi.

"I trust Master Mei has been well!" Master Zu offered a fist-and-palm salute of greeting upon entering the door.

The greeting made Mei Xuanzi's heart skip a beat. Having been utterly baffled by Master Zu's apparent turn as a traitor, Master Zu's late-night visit filled him with even greater suspicion.

"What brings Master Zu to my humble place with the honor of a personal visit? Do you have instructions for me?" Mei Xuanzi asked.

"I came to discuss with you how we might better serve the Japanese Emperor," Master Zu said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Oh." Mei Xuanzi was startled. "Master Zu jests. Knowing what I do of Master Zu and the 'Jiangxiang School,' Master Zu would never become a traitor!"

"Haha!" Master Zu laughed aloud. "Master Mei flatters me. We are mere commoners barely surviving in a turbulent era; frauds like us live one day at a time, and when we kick the bucket, who cares about righteousness and morality?"

Mei Xuanzi was taken aback once more. Master Zu rarely used vulgar language, and this outburst was highly uncharacteristic.

"Has Master Mei not also become a traitor?" Master Zu countered with a question.

"Heh." Mei Xuanzi chuckled lightly. "Indeed, frauds like us live one day at a time, and when we kick the bucket, off we go."

Master Zu smiled faintly. Mei Xuanzi was truly no simple character; when two parties were probing each other's depths, neither dared to speak recklessly.

"As for this number one chair in Jiangnan, I believe Master Mei should be the one to sit in it," Master Zu said.

Mei Xuanzi shook his head and chuckled. "The 'Plum Blossom Society' has shallow foundations; how could it compare to Master Zu's 'Jiangxiang School,' which has stood unshaken for three hundred years? For a period previously, we had the Japanese backing us up, so we managed to raise our heads, but now Master Zu has also been bestowed the 'Palace Indoctrination Decree' by the Japanese Emperor. This number one chair in Jiangnan belongs to none other than Master Zu."

Master Zu also shook his head. "Master Mei is too modest. If neither you nor I are suitable, I suppose we shall have to yield the position to Sect Master Zuo of the 'Heavenly Sacred Dao'!" Master Zu was far too shrewd; he was testing Mei Xuanzi's view on Zuo Yongchan.

Mei Xuanzi finally erupted, saying, "That beast! Zhang Jiyao was murdered by him! A master for a day is a father for life; righteous or heterodox, a master is still a master. To kill one's master is to kill one's father—is he even human?"

Master Zu remained completely expressionless, murmuring, "Live one day at a time, kick the bucket..."

Before he could finish, Mei Xuanzi interrupted him: "Master Zu, stop putting on an act! We haven't dealt with each other for just a day or two; I know very well what kind of person Master Zu is. Since you dare to be a traitor, aren't you afraid that Nine-Ge [Wang Yaqiao] standing behind you will slice you up?"

Master Zu smiled again. "A person cannot escape death; acting as a traitor means death, and not acting as a traitor also means death. To live in glory for a while before dying is still worth it!"

Mei Xuanzi sprang to his feet, staring fixedly at Master Zu as he squeezed a few words through his teeth: "I — DESPISE — YOU!"

Master Zu remained firmly seated and said, "Master Mei, turn around."

Mei Xuanzi was startled. "Wh... what do you mean?"

Master Zu pointed at the Western mirror behind Mei Xuanzi and said, "Look at the person inside it. Speak to him first."

Mei Xuanzi turned around angrily, his eyes locked unblinkingly on his own reflection in the mirror, before suddenly shouting, "Damn it!" With a sweep of his long sleeve, he sent the mirror crashing to the floor. Turning back to glare furiously at Master Zu, he said coldly, "I know you are not a traitor, nor would you ever become one. Now I am telling you, and you listen well: I—Mei Xuanzi—am no traitor either!"

A jolt went through Master Zu's heart. This was precisely what he had been aiming for.

In earlier years, when Mei Xuanzi was establishing his own faction in Shanghai, Master Zu had sent men to investigate his background. Upon discovering that he was a disciple of the senior national studies scholar Mr. Master Fuzu, Master Zu had looked upon this younger generation with new respect. Master Fuzu was a grand master of Chinese learning, first-class in both character and talent. Throughout his life, the old gentleman had dedicated himself to teaching and nurturing others, with disciples and students numbering across the land. After becoming a monk, he devoted himself entirely to clear cultivation. He and Mr. Li Shutong represented Buddhism and Daoism respectively, each comprehending the realms of life along different trajectories, until ultimately one attained Nirvana and buddhism, while the other ascended into the clouds as an immortal.

If the upper beam is straight, the lower beams will not be crooked. The students taught by Master Fuzu could not possibly turn out rotten no matter what, which was why Master Zu had been deeply puzzled at the time. As for the reasons why Mei Xuanzi had returned to secular life from the Daoist gate and established a chapter in the Shanghai, the causes remained entirely unknown to anyone.

"Come with me, Master Zu," Mei Xuanzi said, calming his emotions slightly.

Master Zu knew the true secret was about to be unveiled.

The two entered the western side room, where Master Zu saw a memorial tablet bearing the inscription: "The Spirit Tablet of Our Late Master, Master Fu (Given Name: Zu)."

Mei Xuanzi produced three sticks of incense, ignited them, respectfully inserted them into the censer, and performed three prostrations. Afterward, he recounted to Master Zu the reason why he had returned to secular life.

Entering secular life is difficult, but entering the monastic gate is even harder. Whether monk or Daoist, those who truly enter the monastic gate do not hide away seeking peace and quiet—that is called escapism, not clear cultivation. The Flower Garland Sutra, Chapter of Universal Worthy's Conduct and Vows states: "Like a lotus flower untouched by water, also like the sun and moon resting not in the void." The lotus emerges from the water yet is untained by it; the sun and moon hang in the void yet do not depend upon it. This effortless, soaring, and ethereal state cannot be attained by mere avoidance. Countless eminent monks and virtuous masters throughout history have been paragons of diligent advancement. Driven by the compassionate vow to take the suffering of all under heaven as their own responsibility, every single second of their actions and movements was dedicated to considering the common people. At the very moment of their Nirvana, they still thought of the living, making grand vows on the brink of death never to abandon sentient beings—just like Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, who swore, "Until the hells are emptied, I vow not to become a Buddha; only when all beings are saved will I realize Bodhi."

Therefore, becoming a monk for a time is easy, but being a monk for a lifetime is difficult. Mei Xuanzi exemplified this truth; he possessed far too many bad habits. Gambling, in particular, was an addiction he could not break.

Despite Master Fuzu lecturing him time and again, he remained incorrigible. At times, he even wanted to take a knife and chop off his own hands. Later, by a chance opportunity, he overheard his senior apprentice brothers whispering privately that the "Sutra Depository" in the back courtyard housed books of Qimen Dunjia annotated by Master Fuzu. This news sent a profound tremor through Mei Xuanzi's entire being!

Qimen Dunjia was the highest level of predictive science in the I-Ching, known in ancient times as the "study of emperors." It encompassed numerous predictive elements—such as the Heavenly Plate, Earthly Plate, and Gate Plate acting as warp and woof, along with the Five Elements, Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches, Nine Palaces, Eight Trigrams, and Star Spirits—making it the synthesis of Chinese mystical culture. The ancients had a saying: "Once you master Qimen Dun, when visitors arrive you needn't ask them anything," meaning that if you understood Qimen Dunjia, you could be sitting at home drinking tea when someone came pounding on the door; before they even uttered a word, you would already know their purpose. Such godlike praise made Qimen Dunjia the object of pursuit in countless people's hearts, and throughout the ages, numerology researchers flocked to it like ducks to water.

Upon learning of the "Sutra Depository," Mei Xuanzi racked his brains to get his hands on that book. Once he mastered this skill, he would never have to worry about food or drink again; he could initiate an array at any time using Qimen techniques to choose a favorable day for gambling, and then select a fortunate orientation at the gaming table. Within that highly auspicious time and space, he was bound to win without fail!

Little did he know that all predictive arts possess spiritual resonance; all predictive methods derived from the Book of Zhou follow a single rule: "A family that accumulates goodness is bound to have an abundance of blessings, while a family that fails to accumulate goodness is bound to have an abundance of misfortune." The sages created the I-Ching to teach and transform sentient beings, helping them court good fortune and avoid calamity, not to satisfy selfish desires. Using predictive arts for crooked, deviant paths meant cutting with a biased blade, which would ultimately destroy oneself. Some people in civilian life who harbored dreams of getting rich by studying Qimen Dunjia eventually suffered from deviation during cultivation and went mad.

Elder Master Fuzu saw through Mei Xuanzi's state of mind and told him earnestly: "All conditioned dharmas are illusory, like foam and shadows. Your six roots are not pure, and you are unsuited to study mystical Daoist arts, or you will surely be burdened by them!"

Mei Xuanzi nodded deeply, though in truth he had not listened at all. The thought of "stealing the book and fleeing" rose and burned fiercely in his mind. On the third watch of the following day, Mei Xuanzi went to the back courtyard alone, covertly sneaking into the "Sutra Depository." He lit a single candle, using his sleeve to block the candlelight, and after turning chests and cabinets upside down, he finally discovered a handwritten copy of the Collected Annotations of Qimen Dunjia. At that moment, the night-patrolling junior Daoist priests also discovered lamplight flickering inside the sutra depository and shouted, "There's a thief! There's a thief!"

Mei Xuanzi hastily concealed the scripture in his bosom, leaped through the window, climbed up a ladder he had prepared in advance, scaled the high wall, and fled down the mountain in the darkness like a wisp of smoke.

By daybreak, Mei Xuanzi had run forty or fifty li. Sitting beneath a large tree, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and burst into loud laughter. He immediately pulled the book from his bosom, opened it, and his spirit instantly deflated. It turned out to be merely a general outline—a summary primarily detailing the principles of Qimen Dunjia, the types of array initiation, and basic deductive elements, without touching upon the specific operational methods at all. Only then did Mei Xuanzi discover that the title of the book was Collected Annotations of Qimen Dunjia, Volume One. Where there is a "Volume One," there must inevitably be a "Volume Two," a "Volume Three," all the way to a "Volume One Hundred." In his panic the night before, he had stolen the book and run off without even looking clearly at the title. At this realization, Mei Xuanzi was filled with regret and fury!

He wanted to return and continue stealing, but reason triumphed over madness; he knew that was utterly impossible. Perhaps if he went back, his senior brothers would beat him to death, and his master would expel him from the sect. After pondering, Mei Xuanzi decided to leave this place forever. Still retaining a shred of conscience, he kowtowed several times toward the direction where the Plum Blossom Temple stood, and from then on vanished without a trace.

Two years later, Mei Xuanzi saw a newspaper report on the street stating that the senior national studies scholar Mr. Master Fuzu had passed away as an immortal. Disregarding everything, he rushed back to the Daoist temple. The memory of stealing the book two years prior was still vivid. When he reached the entrance, he hesitated slightly. At that moment, the Daoist gate opened, and it was Senior Brother Xuankong.

Xuankong said, "Come in. Before Master passed away, he was still murmuring your name."

Hearing this, tears gushed from Mei Xuanzi's eyes in a torrent.

Kneeling before Master Fuzu's memorial tablet, Mei Xuanzi was flooded with a thousand thoughts, scenes of his master's life playing backward and forward before his eyes.

Xuankong said through tears, "Before Master passed away, he said many things to us apprentice brothers. He said his greatest regret in this life was that he had failed to redeem and transform you properly. He had five hundred disciples and students, every single one of whom walked the righteous path—you were the only one he couldn't pull back. Yet he believed that one day you would find your way back from your lost path. He believed everyone possesses a root of goodness, only that the causal conditions have not yet arrived, and the day of sprouting has not yet come. He made a grand vow: if he spoke falsely, after death he would be struck by thunder and fire and his whole body would be burned to ashes; if he spoke truly, the iron tree before the gate would immediately burst into bloom. As a result, on the second day after Master passed away, the iron tree by the gate—which had not bloomed for ninety years—actually pushed forth bright yellow floral stamens!"

"Master—" Mei Xuanzi cried out to the heavens with streaming tears. The autumn wind blew desolately, grass and trees carried sorrow, and Mei Xuanzi's lamentation resounded across the firmament.