Chapter 13: The Monk from Shucao, Du Zimei

Walking south along the Central Road for dozens of steps, they passed a crossroads, and suddenly the street grew quiet. Even those passing by held their breath, unlike the lively scene north of the intersection. Just as Li Zaixing was about to ask, Lu Hu reminded him, “Master, please keep your voice down. This is the residence of Li Linfu, Chief Secretary of the Imperial Secretariat. Anyone passing through here is either wealthy or noble; we must not offend them.”

Li Linfu’s home? Li Zaixing couldn’t help but steal another glance, secretly clicking his tongue in awe. The courtyard was enormous; as they crossed the intersection, he estimated it to be five hundred meters east to west, more than a hundred meters north to south. That would make it fifty thousand square meters! This wasn’t the southern part of the city—its northwest corner faced directly toward the imperial palace. To call this prime real estate would be no exaggeration.

Throughout the journey, Li Zaixing had often heard Li Mi mention Li Linfu, never in positive terms. Since he elbowed the renowned Zhang Jiuling out of office in the twenty-fourth year of the Kaiyuan era, Li Linfu had held power for thirteen years. Those who served alongside him were merely puppets; real authority belonged solely to him. Rising from the ranks of bureaucrats, he lacked true scholarship and constantly feared learned men threatening his position. Thus, he blocked all channels of discourse; anyone who might attain high office became his target. Even the rapid rise and imperial favor of An Lushan were closely tied to Li Linfu.

Li Zaixing himself had no fondness for Li Linfu. The term famously associated with him was “honeyed words, sword in heart”—in plain terms, a master of deception who could sell you out and have you cheerfully counting his money afterward.

So this was where he lived. Li Zaixing’s heart stirred; if ever given the chance, he thought, he would sneak in and eliminate him, ridding the world of a scourge.

“This residence used to belong to Lord Wei.”

“How did Lord Wei’s old home become Li Linfu’s estate? What about his descendants?”

“A gentleman’s blessings rarely last beyond five generations. Lord Wei’s descendants can no longer afford such a house; they moved away long ago. Twenty years ago, his grandnephew Li Lingwen, who was close to His Majesty, lived here for a time. After his death, his family left as well.” Lu Hu explained, “Our Great Tang has strict laws on the size of residential estates. Only certain people may live in places this grand.”

He raised his head and glanced at the towering walls, laughing softly, “Perhaps in a few years, the owner will change again.”

Li Zaixing asked, puzzled, “Why do you say that?”

Lu Hu lowered his voice, “His Majesty is nearly sixty-six. How many years can he live? Li Linfu and the Crown Prince do not get along. When His Majesty passes and the Crown Prince ascends, will Li Linfu remain in power? Without office, how could he keep such a residence?”

Li Zaixing suddenly understood. Indeed, with each new emperor comes new ministers. Emperor Xuanzong had only a few years left, and Li Linfu, at odds with the Crown Prince, would surely fall from favor once the prince took the throne.

Talking thus, the two arrived at the gate of Bodhi Monastery. Li Zaixing presented the token prepared by his master. Soon, a middle-aged monk in dark robes hurried out, holding the token and scanning the area before approaching Li Zaixing.

“Junior brother?”

Li Zaixing was surprised. Although the monk wore no ceremonial robes, his dark garment was not ordinary, and the monks he passed made way for him, indicating a high status. He addressed Li Zaixing as “junior brother”—could he also be a disciple of that eccentric old man?

“You are?”

“I am Juehui, the second disciple of our master. I studied Chan with him for three years, but regrettably, I lacked talent and achieved little. Now I serve as the monastery’s steward, hoping to be the first to know when master returns. I never expected to meet you instead, junior brother.”

Li Zaixing broke out in a cold sweat. So this was his second senior brother. From what he said, the old man had taken more than one disciple—at least one before Juehui. The steward was one of the monastery’s three principal officers, managing all affairs, a position of real power.

Li Zaixing followed Juehui inside, with Lu Hu leading the Teler stallion behind. Juehui seemed excited, chatting incessantly and pointing out the names and uses of various buildings. Tang-era monasteries differed greatly from those of later times, and this Bodhi Monastery, being in the city, was less spacious than mountain temples like Prajna Monastery, with a markedly different layout. The most peculiar thing to Li Zaixing was that the bell tower, which should have been on the east, stood on the west.

Juehui led Li Zaixing to the Buddha Hall and pointed at a statue. “Junior brother, pay your respects to master.”

Li Zaixing was taken aback. The old man was still alive—why was there a statue? He glanced at it and saw no reason to doubt; the sculpture was strikingly realistic, depicting a shabby monk with a resemblance to the old eccentric. The sculpture’s craftsmanship was exquisite, capturing both form and spirit. Beside it was an inscription: “Virtuous One of Straw,” written in dignified script, clearly with reverence.

“Straw?” Li Zaixing asked, “Was master’s monastic name ‘Straw’?”

Juehui laughed, with a hint of admiration and pride. “Master is a man beyond the world, unwilling to be bound by convention. ‘Straw’ is not his monastic name, but what we call him. When he was here, he refused to live indoors, choosing a bundle of straw and staying under the west courtyard corridor. When urged to move inside, he scolded the stewards. That very night, he burned the straw to cleanse himself and vanished, never to be seen again. We’ve long hoped to see him once more, but it’s never happened. Even seeing his token today is fortune for me.”

Li Zaixing could only smile wryly, thinking the old eccentric was quite adept at theatrics—even faking self-immolation to mystify others. The monks thought he had vanished through supernatural powers, not knowing he simply changed his name and hid in Prajna Monastery.

He dared not reveal the truth and solemnly paid his respects to the statue, then toured the west corridor where his master once stayed, before following Juehui to the west guesthouse. Lu Hu had already arrived, settled the stallion, and arranged the rooms. Seeing Li Zaixing, he came forward, frowning and whispering, “Master, the environment here is good, but the neighbors leave much to be desired.”

“Neighbors?” Li Zaixing followed Lu Hu’s gaze to a northern room, where a thin, scholarly man stood timidly at the door. Seeing Li Zaixing, the scholar forced a smile. “Forgive me, my child was hungry and cried. I have bought rice and will cook right away, right away.”

Juehui frowned and sighed. “Du Zi Mei, you’ve lived in the monastery more than two years. When the west courtyard was empty, I said nothing, but now my junior brother is here. He must meditate daily, and your situation is inconvenient. I think you should seek another place, lest you hinder his cultivation.”

“But…” The scholar looked miserable, glancing back at his room, too troubled to speak.

Juehui was about to press the issue when Li Zaixing tugged his sleeve and stepped forward, gazing at the scholar in surprise. “Are you… Du Fu?”

The scholar was taken aback. “I am Du Fu. May I ask who you are?”

Li Zaixing smiled. “I am no great master, just a mortal like you. Tell me, do you know the Banished Immortal, Li Bai?”

Du Fu’s eyes lit up instantly. He pointed toward the stable. “That Teler stallion—is it the one Brother Tai Bai gave you?”

Li Zaixing laughed heartily. “So, you are the very Du Fu, Du Zi Mei, who wrote, ‘When I reach the summit, I see all mountains dwarfed’?”

“Yes, yes!” Du Fu was overjoyed, grabbing Li Zaixing’s sleeve. “I saw the Teler stallion earlier and thought it looked familiar, and indeed, it is Brother Tai Bai’s mount. But Brother Tai Bai cherished this horse—how…”

“He gave it to me,” Li Zaixing interrupted, turning to Juehui. “Senior brother, I wish to live with Brother Du. There are only two of us; it’s no trouble.”

Juehui frowned, but said no more. He gave a few instructions and left a young monk named Zhiyuan to assist Li Zaixing, then went off to his duties. As the monastery’s steward, his responsibilities were endless and he could not always accompany Li Zaixing.

Li Zaixing paid no mind, drawing Du Fu into conversation. He soon learned that Du Fu had been in Chang’an for several years, moving from one monastery or temple to another. Typically, these institutions provided lodging and meals to scholars, both out of generosity and in hope of forming connections. Who knew if a future official or poet might emerge? Even if not, scholars could write poems and essays, bringing fame and attracting pilgrims.

Chang’an was full of monasteries and temples, and competition for patronage was fierce.

Yet Du Fu was now unwelcome, for simple reasons: he had stayed too long and brought his family. Three years ago, he had taken the imperial exam and failed. Since then, he had visited noble houses but secured no post. The monastery, seeing no prospect of his success, was less inclined to support him, even stopping the free meals. Now he could only buy his own rice and cook. He had bought rice late today, and his son had cried out in hunger, which Lu Hu overheard.

Li Zaixing could hardly believe the stark simplicity of Du Fu’s home. He knew Du Fu had never prospered, but hadn’t imagined such poverty. The furniture was monastery property; their own clothes were washed to pale threads. The child was skin and bones, clutching a ragged curtain, peering timidly at Li Zaixing. Behind the curtain, another figure—perhaps Du Fu’s wife.

Li Zaixing thought for a moment, then smiled. “It seems my luck is good. I meant to settle down before seeking you, but here you are already.” He signaled to Lu Hu, “Brother Tai Bai worried about your hardships in Chang’an and asked me to bring you some money. Lu Hu, fetch the two gold bars the Banished Immortal entrusted to me.”

...
...