The Sorceress' Revolt Author: Toriumi Jinzō Translator: Ainikki the Archivist Kobiji's Story Part One: The Way of Shattering Earth Chapter Two     The old man's name was Chō Kin. When he was young, he was a mid-level local government official who worked for the Ministry of Revenue. He was forced out of his job due to false accusations from his colleagues, so he returned to his hometown and became a farmer. Throughout the ages, there have been many government officials who slander their colleagues with lies; Chō Kin was just one unfortunate example.     He had made some money by improving his crops, but about ten years before he'd lost his family property due to poor harvests and high taxes. Just after, he'd lost his wife and son to an epidemic. He eventually remarried, but both he and his wife were getting older and they were both often ill. The lone granddaughter that had survived the epidemic might be counted on to care for them, but then she too passed away under mysterious circumstances. No one understood why she'd died, only that she'd suffered breathing trouble and could not be soothed.     The granddaughter had died that day at noon.     Chō Kin and his wife had their granddaughter's body examined by a lowly official shortly after her passing. "Such a waste," the waspish young man had said, unraveling the girl's white shroud. He'd smiled peevishly and withdrew.     Chō Kin and his wife grieved their granddaughter, of course, but they had nothing saved to take care of themselves. It was a tragic story all around. What a contradictory world we live in, where young people die and the old linger.      "I will mourn for her and pray for her spirit. It is my duty as a monk," the young man said.      "But you must be tired from the long journey."     "I feel greatly refreshed after my meal. Please guide me to your granddaughter," the monk said.      The old woman led the monk to the back room of the farmhouse. There was another bed there where the granddaughter lay in her white shroud. A bouquet of wild chrysanthemums rested at her bedside. A door along the rear wall led to a garden. On a wretched-looking desk was a desolate offering of one candle and a single stick of incense. It was a lonely vigil, with only the monk and the girl's two living relatives present.     The farmhouse was quiet and still as the monk chanted sutras for the departed.      The old woman's eyes overflowed with tears. She clasped her hands together and begged the heavens for help.      "There we are," the monk said quietly. "Now she can go to the Buddha without fear or trouble."     The old woman bowed her head again and again.     "I'm sure you'll miss her," the monk said.     "She was a kind girl... even the wild foxes adored her.''     "Foxes?"     "Well, she took in an injured cub and nursed it back to health. After that, the foxes came to see her every day."     The monk remembered the fox that had guided him this far. Did the fox lead me all this way to mourn the death of his benefactor? he thought. In this world full of heartless people, beasts have more care and consideration for the dead.     The old woman faced her granddaughter and struggled to accept that she was gone. She unwrapped the girl's face and gazed upon it, saying, "Why did this have to happen to you? You were so young..."     The granddaughter had been a beautiful woman. Even in death, there was something lively about her. Lustrous black hair framed her pale face. Her eyebrows were thin and her lips were drained of blood, but it still seemed like she was sleeping and might get up at any time—as if she were a witch or a sorceress.     The monk took one long look at the girl's face and was entranced. "She was lovely," he said softly. He'd seen many dead women before, of course—his duties as a monk meant that he'd frequently performed rites for the deceased. But he'd never seen anyone like this girl.      "Wait just a little while, child," the old woman said. "Your grandma will be with you soon." She pressed her palms together and prayed to the Buddha.     The monk couldn't tear his eyes away from the dead girl's face. ***     When the old woman and the monk returned to the front of the farmhouse, Chō Kin thanked the monk for his services by bowing his head. He was still in bed and couldn't rise to make a proper bow. "I thank you."     "You're welcome, sir. I'm very sorry for your loss."     "You're young for a wanderer. Where are you from?" Chō Kin asked.     "The Yinghui Mountain Temple in Sicheng," the monk said.      "Oh, so you're from the Lingnan Provinces.1  When I was working for the government, I traveled quite widely."     "Truly? Even to Sicheng?"     "I have. I had many business trips, but I love traveling. I used to walk from Chengdu to Hunan Province. And now... I want to die, but I don't have the courage. I'm just waiting for my journey to the afterlife." Chō Kin's voice sounded pitiful, as if he was mocking himself.     The monk could think of nothing comforting to say or do and lowered his gaze.     The old woman returned to the monk and Chō Kin, carrying tea. She'd taken a liking to the youthful and well-spoken monk.     The monk accepted a teacup with both hands and drank carefully. The sweet scent of the tea permeated the room.      "This is our best tea," Chō Kin said.     "We received the tea plants from a friend in Sichuan," the old woman said. "The plants grow well in the garden." She smiled at her husband.      The tea plants were sourced from India, and since the beginning of the Song dynasty their sale was restricted to government-sanctioned merchants. Foreign merchants were forced to smuggle tea along trade routes on horseback. The elderly couple could get in serious trouble for disregarding the government monopoly, but the tea was their only indulgence and their only source of good nutrition, isolated as they were.     "Mr. Monk, it occurs to me that we haven't asked your name," the old woman said. "Would you tell us?"     "Of course." The monk scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, and the old woman smiled behind her hand at this childish mannerism. "Pardon me for not introducing myself. When I was young, I was called Kichiji, but no one calls me that anymore. Everyone calls me Tanshi."     The old woman appeared puzzled. "Tanshi? And what does that mean?"     "It means that I was born from a bird's egg."2     "What?"     It wasn't so impossible, was it? Tanshi believed that humans could be born such. Still, it was far from a universal belief, and the old woman stared at Tanshi as if he were joking with her. Only his serious expression prevented her from laughing.     "A child hatched from an egg? Are such things possible, honored husband?" the old woman asked.     Chō Kin also appeared confused. His mouth hung open for a few seconds before he ventured, "I've never heard of such a thing. Though it's obvious enough that the birds didn't raise you. Did they?"     Tanshi's expression remained serious. "The head priest Jiun took me in."     "Oh, the head priest of your temple?"     "So you have no mother?" the old woman asked.     "No, I never did."     "I see." She still appeared unconvinced that Tanshi had been born from an egg. Traces of puzzlement lingered in her expression.     "So you're Jiun's adopted son," Chō Kin said.     "Yes, that's right."     The elderly couple exchanged glances. One of them should probably tell him that people didn't generally hatch from eggs, but since they didn't know the source of his knowledge, they feared to be disbelieved. Contradicting Tanshi would also be impolite.     "That would make you your father's heir, wouldn't it?" Chō Kin asked. "So you'll take over the temple from your father, someday."     "No, I discarded my rank when I left the temple," Tanshi said.      "Discarded?" the old woman asked in surprise. "Aren't you planning to return there someday?"     "No, I won't be going back." There wasn't a scrap of hesitation or regret in his tone. "I'm going to visit the Five Sacred Mountains of the Daoists." ***     The Five Sacred Mountains of the Daoists were well-known to the Chinese people. Since the Han dynasty, religious observances and practices were held at each of the peaks. Many monks made pilgrimages to these sacred mountains, but few ever made the circuit to see all five of them. The mountains were all in different provinces: Shandong, Shanxi, Henan, Shānxi, and Hunan. Traveling to all these places on foot was unheard-of.     "Why do you wish to visit the Five Sacred Mountains?" Chō Kin asked. "You must have some purpose." He was interested in Tanshi's goal. What did a man who believed he'd hatched from an egg want to do with his life?     "I am trying to learn the Way of Shattering Earth," Tanshi said.     Chō Kin and his wife exchanged wide-eyed expressions. "The Way of Shattering Earth?" Chō Kin asked.     "Yes, sir."     There was a silence. Chō Kin and his wife looked at Tanshi with doubt in their eyes. What Tanshi was saying was completely unbelievable.      "Honored husband, what is that?" the old woman asked.      "I think it's a magical art that offers power over the earth. I've heard of other magics that allow people to fly, or breathe underwater, or things like that."     "You mean like the mountain wizards from ancient legends?"     Chō Kin nodded. "Exactly so."     The old woman looked at Tanshi with an incredulous look on her face.     "How old are you, Tanshi?" Chō Kin asked.     "Seventeen annual cycles of the moon." 3 He gave his age in terms of the moon, not in years.     Chō Kin smiled. "You're a young man, and it is typical of young men to chase their own dreams without considering those of others. Have you read much of Baopuzi?"4     "I've read it, yes."     "I see. I read half of the inner chapters before I gave up." He offered Tanshi a cynical smile.     Jiun had been strict about temple discipline, but he'd never scolded Tanshi for readying anything. Whenever Tanshi had asked him about a difficult passage, Jiun had explained it to him carefully. Tanshi used the knowledge he gained in this way to read up on the topics that interested him the most.     "What else have you read?" Chō Kin asked.     "I like history and old books more than scriptures. Also, I like the Shenxian Zhuan, Liexian Zhuan, Attestations of Five Dragon Kings, the Teardrop Sutra and the Mountains and Waters Sutra." 5     "Oh? It seems you're quite well-read." Chō Kin nodded, impressed.      The old woman tilted her head in admiration. "I don't really understand, but it seems that you have much learning. You could pass the civil service exam and become a government official!"     In 607, Emperor Yang of Sui established a new category of examinations for scholars who wished to be government officials. Candidates would first take the provincial exam, then pass or fail the exam at the Central Court (which was in charge of liturgy and education), and finally take the Grand Hall exam directly conducted by the Emperor in the Imperial Court. These three categories of examination were the origins of the imperial examination system that would last more than a thousand years, until 1905.     Before the Tang Dynasty, this system was monopolized by the aristocracy, but in the Song Dynasty it was opened to the general public. Even one family member admitted to the ranks of the government officials could benefit everyone else.      The Imperial Court's pacifist doctrine meant that fewer people joined the military these days and more people took the civil service exam. The number of government officials was on the rise. There were many people who passed the exam, but could find no employment. For that reason among others, Tanshi had no desire to take the civil service exam.     Baopuzi is the name of a book but also a pseudonym of its author. The author's  real name was Ge Hong (284-343 AD). His main contributions were in Chinese alchemy and medicine, and also as a religious scholar integrating Confucianism and Daoism. Ge Hong questioned ancient writings and was against the traditionalism of the time, where older writings were valued while newer ideas were less respected. Instead, he emphasized innovation and methods which involved experimentation and results. This was especially the case in his work in medicine and alchemy. "Study from the immortals and attain immortality,'' he writes. "If you have a strong will and talent, you too can achieve great powers."     Regarding immortality, three disciplines are considered central: breathing techniques, sexual alchemy6, and traditional medicine. Before Ge Hong, Daoism was not well-defined, and his precepts influenced the folk sects that evolved into Daoism during this time period.      Shenxian Zhuan and Liexian Zhuan are tales about immortal figures and are meant to serve as examples for mortals to emulate. Immortals are considered true masters of Daoism. They were once mortals and attained divinity, and they are separated into ranks based on their power.     Tiānxiān, "Celestial Immortals," are at the highest level.      Dìxiān, "Earth Immortals," are the middle level.     Shījiě Xiān, "Corpse Unbound Immortals," are the lowest level.     Celestial Immortals can shed their mortal bodies and fly above the earth. Earth Immortals are stuck on the ground until they discard their mortal flesh. Some immortals could learn the ability to walk on water.7 ***     Chō Kin and Tanshi spoke well into the night about their shared interests. As the evening wore on, Chō Kin seemed to forget about his long illness and became increasingly more animated.     "I've heard some old tales about a Heavenly Book," Chō Kin said.      "What Heavenly Book?" Tanshi asked.     "The story goes that the gods wrote wisdom into it and released it onto the earth. I thought of it because you are seeking to master the Way of Shattering Earth. The Heavenly Book may be able to teach it to you. The path to immortality and power is a long and arduous one, but I believe that the Heavenly Book might provide a shortcut to the knowledge you seek."     Tanshi's expression became serious. "And where is this Heavenly Book?" he asked.     "It is only a tale," Chō Kin said. "I would be remiss if I led you on." He was trying to walk back Tanshi's expectations. He'd hadn't anticipated Tanshi's strong interest in this hypothetical book.     "I don't mind if it's just a tale," Tanshi said. "Where does the tale say the book is?"     "Well..." Chō Kin had said too much now; there was nothing for it but to continue the story. "From what I've heard, I think it's on Yunmeng Mountain."     "Yunmeng Mountain?"     "There is a cave there—Hakūn-do Cave."     "Hakūn-do Cave on Yunmeng Mountain... I've never even heard of such a place."     "I believe it's close to Yanzhou in Hubei Province. I know that general area well, though I've never been to Yunmeng Mountain or Hakūn-do Cave."     "Yanzhou in Hubei Province," Tanshi said as if he were afraid he'd forget it. "Hakūn-do Cave on Yunmeng Mountain."     "I don't think anyone climbs Yunmeng Mountain,"  Chō Kin said. "Like I said, it's only a tale, and no one actually believes it." His tone was firm, but Tanshi appeared no less interested. "Anyway, it's getting quite late."     "Oh! So it is!" Tanshi said. "I'm very sorry if I kept you up."     Chō Kin shook his head. "Never mind that. This is the most fun I've had in a long time." He smiled.     The old woman went into the back bedroom to change the candle burning there. A moment later, Chō Kin and Tanshi heard a high-pitched scream.     Chō Kin looked towards the back room with an expression of alarm. "I'm coming!" he called out.     Tanshi paled, springing to his feet and rushing to the aid of the old woman. ***     Tanshi ran into the back room, his eyes wide open in shock.      The old woman sat collapsed on the floor, looking like she'd lost the will to live. The corpse of her granddaughter was gone, white shroud and all.      Tanshi stood there dumbstruck for a long moment, taking in the weeping woman and the absence of the dead body.      "My granddaughter... her body, it's..." The old woman struggled to get words out. "Stolen."     "Stolen?" Tanshi asked. He hadn't realized it before, but the door to the back garden was slightly ajar. He rushed to the door and opened it all the way, peering out into the darkness of the night, but of course he couldn't see anything. The garden was silent, undisturbed.     It wasn't impossible for the body to be stolen. In fact, stealing bodies was a somewhat common occurrence. Confucianism's influence meant that most people favored burial over cremation. Only monks were regularly cremated, following Indian practices. Some men dug up the graves of wealthy women and violated them. Still others stole the dead from their graves and sold them to butchers. There was a rumor of a famous restaurant in Hangzhou that purchased bodies obtained this way.     "What a terrible thing." The old woman threw herself on the floor and wept.     Tanshi felt her heartbreak as it if were his own. Translator's Notes 1 嶺南 Lingnan Provinces: A geographic region of southern China that bordered what is modern Vietnam.↩ 2 蛋子 Tanshi - The first kanji means "bird egg," and the second means "child."↩ 3 臘: 12th lunar cycle of the moon. The usual word for measuring years in Japanese is 歳. ↩ 4 抱朴子: Baopuzi is a literary work written by Ge Hong (also transliterated as Ko Hung) (葛洪), 283–343, a scholar during the turbulent Jin dynasty. Baopuzi is divided into two main sections, the esoteric Neipian (內篇) "Inner Chapters" and the section intended for the public to understand, Waipian (外篇) "Outer Chapters." The Daoist Inner Chapters discuss topics such as techniques to achieve immortality, Chinese alchemy, elixirs, and demonology. The Confucian Outer Chapters discuss Chinese literature, legalism, politics, and society. ↩ 5 神仙伝:The Shenxian Zhuan, sometimes given in translation as the Biographies of the Deities and Immortals, is a hagiography of immortals[1] and description of Chinese gods, partially attributed to the Daoist scholar Ge Hong (283-343). In the history of Chinese literature, the Shenxian Zhuan followed the Liexian Zhuan ("Collected Biographies the Immortals"). 外仙伝:The Liexian Zhuan, sometimes translated as Biographies of Immortals, is the oldest extant Chinese hagiography of Daoist xian "transcendents; immortals; saints; alchemists". The text, which compiles the life stories of about 70 mythological and historical xian, was traditionally attributed to the Western Han dynasty editor and imperial librarian Liu Xiang (77–8 BCE), but internal evidence dates it to the 2nd century CE during the Eastern Han period. The Liexian Zhuan became a model for later authors, such as Ge Hong's 4th century CE Shenxian zhuan ("Biographies of Divine Immortals"). 五竜経:Attestations of Five Dragon Kings is an apocryphal Consecration Sutra dated to the early 4th century. It purports to be Buddhist teachings but in fact incorporates elements of Chinese traditional belief, and associates five dragon kings with five colored dragons and five directions (the four compass directions and the center of the compass). 滴涙経:Teardrop Sutra. I was not able to find an extant text or further information on this one, though the Heart Sutra features sections on weeping that might be categorically appropriate. 山海経: Mountains and Waters Sutra. The sutra recounts a teaching primarily between Gautama Buddha and a bodhisattva named Mahāmati ("Great Wisdom"). It discusses numerous Mahayana Buddhist topics, such as the philosophy of mind-only, the nature of consciousness, the inner "disposition" of man, the Buddha-nature, the luminous mind, emptiness, and vegetarianism. The sutra figured prominently in the development of East Asian Buddhism. ↩ 6 房中術 is the word used here; the literal meaning is "ability in the bedroom" or "the art of lovemaking." In this context, it means Daoist sexual alchemy (which is supposed to prolong the practitioner's life).↩ 7 Tiānxiān (天仙 – “Celestial Immortal”) - The highest level of immortality attainable in Daoism. Dìxiān (地仙 - “Earth Immortal”) – The middle level of immortality attainable in Daoism. Shījiě xiān (尸解仙 - "Escaped-by-means-of-a-stimulated-corpse-simulacrum Immortal", literally "Corpse Untie Immortal") - The lowest level. This is considered the lowest form of immortality since a person must first “fake” their own death by substituting a bewitched object like a bamboo pole, talisman or a shoe for their corpse—essentially cheating death. Mortals who choose this route to immortality have to protect themselves from heavenly retribution and live in hiding from the gods. Something to note: there is no class of immortals that is particularly known for walking on water in Daoism, at least not one that is widely known. 水仙, the term used, might be a play on words; the original title of the story that this novel is based on is literally "Three Sui Crush the Demons' Revolt" (where the Sui are three wizards with sui in their names somewhere). The Chinese on-yomi reading of Japanese 水 (water) is sui. ↩ Additional Notes 五岳: The Five Sacred Mountains of the Daoists are Mt. Tai (泰山) in Shandong, Mt. Hua (华山) in Shaanxi, Mt. Heng (衡山) in Hunan, Mt. Heng (恒山) in Shanxi, and Mt. Song (嵩山) in Henan. 住職の慈雲 Head Priest Jiun (whose name means Merciful Cloud). 雲夢山: Yunmeng Mountain, literally "Cloud Dream Mountain." There are several mountains in China with this same name. 郢州 (湖北省): Yanzhou is the name of a place in ancient Hubei Province. 郢州 (湖北省): 白雲洞: Hakūn-do Cave, literally "White Cloud Cave."

Translations by Ainikki