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 The Sorceress' Revolt Author: Toriumi Jinzō Translator: Ainikki the Archivist Kobiji's Story Part One: The Way of Shattering Earth Chapter Three     The granddaughter's body had been stolen during the day by the peevish young official who had performed the cursory autopsy. He took a length of rough white cloth and a wheelbarrow from a barn and wrapped up the young woman's corpse, pushing it through the wilderness.     The official passed through the forest surrounding Mt. Konishi, staying out of the light as much as possible. He stopped briefly to catch his breath, rolling the body toward the base of a large tree. The girl's face shifted to the side.     The official knelt down next to the body, stretching his hands out gently, and turned the girl's face to his, as if she could still look at him. Unwrapped from her shroud and limned by moonlight, it was difficult to believe that she was dead. The bloom of life still marked her features, and she was very beautiful.     Hands trembling, the official stripped the girl of her shroud and undergarments, watching in fascination as her breasts fell free of their bindings. He cupped her breasts in both hands; the dark shadow of his expanding crotch fell over her white skin. Her skin was cold, but that didn't matter; every moment that passed eroded the official's fear and filled him with excitement. He reached down to the girl's secret places—cold, yes, but still wet. Her hair a bit disheveled. Her beauty in this moment was eerie, almost otherworldly.     The piercing call of a fox rang out nearby. At the same time, the girl's eyes opened and stared at him—as if she could see the official. That had to be impossible, but in the low light of the moon streaking through the branches, it seemed like she was very much alive.      The official screamed and rolled away from the body, then ran like a bat out of hell. He disturbed the wheelbarrow as he went; it rolled down a hill. He didn't notice and kept running for his life. Unfortunately for the half-naked man, he stumbled into a tree that conked him on the head so hard that he died almost instantly, still exposed.     A fox emerged from the forest underbrush and crouched down next to the girl's body, giving a sad snort.  ***     Tanshi lay on a wretched bed in the elderly couple's home, staring at the ceiling and thinking grim thoughts. Death comes to us all, rich or poor, young or old, male or female. Old age, illness, death... suffering is the one thing no human being can avoid. So said Amida Buddha.     "All those born into this world die," Tanshi said quietly. Life meant suffering. Death wasn't the end. When the body perished, the soul found another body and was reborn again. The wheel of reincarnation was permanent, fixed; the only way to escape it was to follow Buddhist teachings and escape the cycle of suffering, called samsara. Escape from samsara was called moksha, "liberation." 1     "I can't even remember all of the people that I've mourned with Jiun since I was a child," Tanshi murmured. "That girl, so young and beautiful, is dead. Her grandparents will soon follow her. I, too, will grow old and die. I think I know as much as anyone about the impermanence of life. Didn't the Buddha preach that we should give up our desires and not be attached to them? He did."     To put this into practice, Tanshi must abide by strict precepts and devote himself to training. Tanshi had never committed a crime, but he had lied, coveted others' things, and succumbed (however briefly) to personal jealousies and hatreds. He had no confidence that he could follow the Buddha's teachings perfectly. "I'm ordinary," Tanshi said. "Just a normal person who couldn't even help an old couple find their granddaughter's stolen body."     When he looked out the window of the room, it was morning. Tanshi rose along with Chō Kin and his wife to search Mt. Konishi and the surrounding area.      They never found the girl's body.     This world truly was hell. ***     In the afternoon, Tanshi said goodbye to Chō Kin and his wife. He stopped at a tavern located just off the main road and had a drink. He hadn't drunk any alcohol before, so this was his first experience of the taste.      That's one temple commandment I've broken, Tanshi thought, though the idea didn't disturb him too much.     There weren't many travelers on the highway, which was fortunate; the sight of Tanshi red-faced and soused after a single drink was an odd one. Tanshi didn't care what he looked like.     "Can the Buddha's teachings really save people from the cycle of suffering?" Tanshi asked himself. He'd never suffered such strong doubt before. He'd been born a monk; his childhood had been spent solely in the temple, and his adoptive father, Jiun, was the head priest. He'd played with temple blocks instead of toys. Up until now, Tanshi had believed that he would always be a monk and nothing else.     "Everyone is frightened of death, but... is it really correct to live a life devoted to the Buddha and hope for the best? Is it fate that all most people can do is wait for death? The Buddha and gods of other religions provide comfort to the suffering, but none of them can save us from death. No. Everyone wants to live for a long time. Is enlightenment the act of giving up that desire? Does the desire disappear just because we will it so? Isn't that only possible for truly great beings, like the Buddha?      "No, even Siddhartha realized that penance was not the path to liberation. He sat in meditation under the Tree of Enlightenment, awakened to the causes of suffering and became the Buddha. But even he was powerless against death. I don't want to wait to suffer and die. I want to live a long life without aging, falling ill, or becoming a victim of violence or an unexpected accident. I want the power to predict and outlive the hellish suffering of this world.     "If mortality is destiny, then defying it means eternal life. If I was truly born from an egg, I should be able to transcend ordinary human limitations."     This determination was what had made Tanshi leave his temple in the first place.      "I will climb Yunmeng Mountain, even if it turns out to be pointless." ***     Tanshi's desire for immortality was far from new. People of the Han dynasty (202 BCE - c. 9 CE) dreamed of eternal wealth and longevity and created statues of immortals. These dreams weren't just hopes and desires; many people worked to make these things real for themselves.      Tanshi was just such a realist. He had the same high ideals as people in the Han dynasty, but he wanted those ideals to be real and was willing to do anything to make them so. Daoism centered on ideas of immortality: eternal youth and health. Methods to achieve immortality fell into two basic categories: religious—prayers, moral conduct, rituals and observances of commandments; and physical—diets, medicines, breathing methods, chemicals and exercises.     The basic idea behind the Daoist diet was to nourish the body and deny food to the "three worms"—disease, old age, and death. Immortality could be achieved by following this diet and by avoiding ejaculation during sex, which preserved the life-giving semen, which in turn mixed with breath and nourished the body and the brain. Forbidden foods included many common grains, including all cereal grains (such as oatmeal and rice).     The aim of the Daoist diet was to change the composition of the body from flesh into durable airy material associated with long life. Many Daoists believed that the best material for prolonging life was air and aimed to take in a variety of different kinds of air—from the sea and from the mountains, as examples—often accompanied by breathing exercises. "Air eating" was believed to make people able to ride the clouds and use dragons as horses.     Elixirs of immortality were also common. Many of these were made with cinnabar,  a compound of mercury and sulfur; it was considered an essential ingredient for turning herbal medicines red. It could be bought and sold in Chenzou, the nearest city, albeit at a high price; Chenzou cinnabar was known for its exceptionally high quality. Rumor had it that elixirs made with cinnabar could prolong one's life and bestow the ability to fly through the air.2     Empress Wu Zetian took elixirs containing cinnabar, as did six emperors after her; all of them died. Mercury is obviously toxic, though you could say that the elixirs did cause the souls of the empress and emperors to fly to heaven.3 ***     Tanshi's original intention when leaving his temple was to visit the Five Sacred Mountains of the Daoists. That was an important pilgrimage for longevity and immortality; he'd also hoped to meet an immortal on his travels. His first stop was to have been Mt. Heng in Hunan Province, but he now had other plans. He turned eastwards, past Dongting Lake, toward Yunmeng Mountain and Hakūn-do Cave. Hubei Province was a long way on foot.     Tanshi took some time to shave his beard, and the feel of the wind on his bare skin as he walked was invigorating. He passed by a small settlement where there were lodgings but didn't stop; it was too early for travelers to seek accommodations for the evening. Tanshi, in imitation of Peng Zu, had decided not to ride a horse or take a cart after leaving the temple.      Peng Zu was a great master of Daoism; he lived at the end of the Shang dynasty (around 1020 B.C.) and remained a young man in appearance even at the age of 767. Peng Zu was not one to court fame; he lived simply and chose to never use a horse or cart on his journeys, always traveling on foot. Tanshi had always liked Peng Zu's simplicity and easy-going personality and sought to emulate it.     One of Peng Zu's life extending techniques was a vitality absorption skill, which purportedly extracted female energy into the male body (harvesting from yin to supplement yang) through intimacy. He was known for fathering hundreds of children with forty-nine different women. He wrote: "No matter what kinds of high-quality elixirs you consume, you will never attain eternal life without knowing the key points of sexual alchemy."      Tanshi had read those words largely without knowing what they meant. His religious upbringing had been strict and he had no experience at all with women. Something in him had stirred at the sight of the beautiful young girl who'd died, but of course his thoughts of her were not impure. Even if he'd been experienced, he would never have considered such a thing.  ***     There was a teahouse at the edge of the settlement where they were selling steamed rice cakes and household goods. There was a crowd around the storefront: children buying sweets and their parents buying cooking implements and groceries. Tanshi paused in front of the teahouse and lifted his hat to take a better look.     This was a quiet little place; nothing out of the ordinary about it and no real reason to stop; it wasn't like Tanshi hadn't seen a hundred of these little shops before.      But then an old woman screamed inside the teahouse.     "Ah! Murder!"     The crowd shifted. Tanshi took an involuntary step back. The men around him appeared just as apprehensive as he was; women and children scattered like leaves until Tanshi alone remained near the storefront, in front of the teahouse door.      The men and women who remained on the street looked at Tanshi with eyes full of fear and distrust. Tanshi barely noticed. He was too preoccupied with what was going on inside the teahouse; he slid the door open and looked inside.     An obese itinerant monk was beating an old woman with a club. She had fallen to the teahouse floor, still conscious. The monk's head was perfectly shaved: the kind of bald head that shone and made people look twice.      "Yo, old lady! I gave you a blessing; you should give me alms!"     The woman tried to crawl away from him, but the bald monk kicked her with his stocky legs and stepped around her to prevent her escape. His monk's robe was filthy; his face, unattractive at the best of times, twisted hideously with anger.     Itinerant monks were similar to wandering monks like Tanshi, with a few differences. They went on pilgrimages, but their goal was to find a place of seclusion in the mountains and seek enlightenment there. They carried all of their possessions in a sack hanging from their chest (from which their shortened nickname was derived)4 and relied on the charity of others to support their worldly needs.     "Now let me go on my way, you hag, or I'll kill you," the bald monk said, raising his club.     Before he could strike again, Tanshi knocked him down by slamming his pewter staff into the man's side.     "Who are you?" the bald monk asked as he staggered upright, glaring at Tanshi with a raptor-like stare.      Tanshi stood near him, unafraid, staff in hand.     "Why are you getting in my way?"     Tanshi surveyed his opponent calmly. He had only participated in any kind of fight once, when an armed gang of robbers had stormed the temple. From that experience, Tanshi had learned that it was best to take initiative. The one who showed weakness first broke, and lost. By seizing his moment, Tanshi gave himself time to look for weaknesses in his opponent and to come up with a plan.     That was all Tanshi had needed to do at the temple fight: plan, delegate, and strike quickly as a distraction to help more experienced fighters. This time, he believed that wouldn't be enough. This was a real fight that he'd stumbled into. As he looked down at the poor old woman on the floor, he remembered Chō Kin's  wife collapsed on the ground next to her granddaughter's empty bed.      Tanshi was the kind of man who couldn't tolerate anyone bullying old women.     "We're both monks. If ya stay outta my way, I'll stay out of yours," the bald monk said in slangy informal dialect.     "We're both monks, and you should stop," Tanshi said.      "What?" The bald monk was steady on his feet again.     "A monk should have compassion for others."     "That's why I gave her a blessing. What's wrong with asking for alms in the name of the Buddha?"     "Giving alms is not something to be forced. The person must choose to give them to you."     "Are ya lecturing me, boy?" the bald monk asked, snorting out an irritated laugh.      "It's my duty to preach to the ignorant," Tanshi said, overly polite.     The bald monk's irritation finally boiled over into rage. "Don't you know who I am? I am Seki, the itinerant monk, and no one who knew of me would seek to waylay me as you have."     "I'm sorry, sir, but we haven't been introduced before so I'm not sure how I was supposed to know who you are."     The physical fight Tanshi feared hadn't materialized yet, but this was certainly a battle of words.     The bald monk adjusted his grip on the club.      The old woman crawled to Tanshi. "He—that man put his hands on my daughter. When she resisted, he beat her to death."     And Tanshi saw it now: the body of a young woman, still and silent in the corner of the room. If Tanshi had to guess, he would say that she was about the same age as Chō Kin's daughter. She had gone to her death without blessings and rites, which enraged him as much as the death itself. The utter lack of respect that the bald monk held for this girl angered him to his soul.      Tanshi removed his hat with one hand and threw it into the corner. There could be no walking away from this.      The bald monk looked Tanshi over and gave him a crooked smile. He could see that Tanshi was young; perhaps that made him think that he would be easy pickings. That poisonous gaze fell on Tanshi, making him feel nauseous.     "You're just a kid. If you walk away now, I promise that I'll spare you," the bald monk said.     A muscle in Tanshi's cheek twitched. "Don't underestimate me, Seki the itinerant monk." He was done being polite; his voice came out as a shout. Anger at what had happened to Chō Kin's granddaughter mixed with the fresh outrage of Seki's murder of an innocent woman.     Seki was briefly taken aback by Tanshi's tone. He readjusted his stance, red-faced, embarrassed: it was embarrassing for an older monk such as himself to be chastised by a junior from another order. His expression became predatory, like a tiger stalking its prey.     "You insult me to my face and refuse to take my instruction," Seki said, petulant. "I won't forgive you."     The onlookers watched with great interest, but made no move to intervene.     The old woman kept crawling away from the monk, safer now that there were many witnesses. "You speak well, young monk, and I thank you for it, but please do not get yourself killed," she said.     No one expected Tanshi to win this encounter. He was like a puppy sitting in front of an angry tiger. Slowly, Tanshi and Seki circled one another; from Seki's clumsy movements, Tanshi knew that Seki had no training whatsoever in the martial arts. His club was a good enough weapon against those equally ignorant, but it posed little threat to Tanshi.     "Do it, you young fool. Attack me!"     Some monks excelled at martial arts. Monks were easy targets because they were seen as gentle people who served the Buddha. Tanshi had started learning the staff when he was ten, but he'd had little opportunity to use that knowledge. Offerings and alms had been freely given to his temple; with the exception of bandits one time, neither his temple's goods nor his person had been attacked before.      Tanshi had never fought an opponent like this, one-on-one and carrying a weapon.      Seki kept circling around Tanshi, seeking an opening to strike. His experience fighting was all done against civilians with no training and those too weak to fight back. Tanshi readied his staff and kept moving around Seki.     Seki let out a barbaric yawp and attacked. At the same time, Tanshi swept the club out of his hand with his staff. The club flew through the air and thudded against the wall, rolling into a corner.     Disarmed and ashamed, Seki flushed red and made a frustrated grunt low in his throat. His shoulders shook and his expression was pained; the force of Tanshi's blow had numbed his hand. He was obviously angry, while Tanshi remained calm. Tanshi had directed the path of the club with his strike so that it wouldn't harm anyone as Seki dropped it.      "May the Buddha damn you, young monk," Seki said.     Tanshi offered him a bitter grin. Seki looked strong, but his arms and hands were weak. He was a villain who got by on bravado and little else.     Some of the onlookers pressed in closer.     "Oi! Shut up, ya noisy louts!" Seki yelled. He regained his composure, determined to put up a strong façade even if he could only do that with words. Everyone had seen Tanshi disarm him. Most of the people watching weren't afraid of him anymore.     "Fuck you, shithead," Seki snarled at Tanshi. Weaponless, he curled his fists and hurtled toward the onlookers, only to find Tanshi standing in his way.      "If you want to keep fighting, retrieve your weapon," Tanshi said.     Seki had lost what little face he'd had coming into this encounter. Breathing heavily, he went to his club and picked it up. He fixed Tanshi with eyes full of hatred.      "You little brat, I'm just a little drunk," Seki said. That was likely true.     "Would you like to sleep it off before we continue? I'll wait," Tanshi said.     Seki was tipsy, to be sure, but far from falling down drunk. Tanshi didn't think that Seki's level of inebriation should affect the fight. Seki's overpowering rage was having a much more significant effect.     Raising his club, Seki struck a blow with his full weight behind it. Tanshi dodged to the right, bent down quickly, and thrust his staff into Seki's chest. Seki staggered backwards, grunting in pain. The back of his head slammed against a millstone in the corner of the room as he fell. When he collapsed, he didn't rise.      The onlookers cheered.     This was the first time Tanshi had ever fought for real on his own. If Seki had just left the poor woman he'd killed alone, she would be alive now and might have a chance at a happy life. Tanshi had never struck a human being in anger before, but Seki had cut an innocent woman's life short. He was surprised at the strength of his arm and the efficacy of his training; he hadn't expected Seki to just fall over like that.     Tanshi waited for Seki to get up and continue the fight. He planned to get Seki to surrender, then lead him to the prefectural office where he could be jailed.      Rough footsteps echoed behind Tanshi. He turned to see three prefectural officers carrying spears. They'd been patrolling by chance and someone had alerted them to the fight in progress, so they'd come to investigate.     "A monk is fighting another monk!"     Now the officers knew that the informant had told the truth, and they surrounded Tanshi. Tanshi was relieved to see them; now he wouldn't have to lead Seki to the prefectural office. The officers could take Seki away, and that would be the end of this mess.     "Were you fighting?" one of the officers asked.     "I was, sir."     "Who were you fighting? Where is he?"     Tanshi looked down, scratching his head. "I might have gone a little too far."      Another officer caught sight of Seki on the floor and shook his head. "That moron. If only he could die twice."     Tanshi looked more closely at Seki. Regardless of their differences, he had no intention of killing the bald monk. This was his first real fight, after all. All he'd needed to do was poke Seki a little and the bald monk had gone down. He hadn't planned for Seki to slam his head on the millstone; that was a complete accident.      But that accident proved fatal to Seki.     Stunned, Tanshi brought his hands together and prayed. "Namu Amida Butsu..."5 He prayed sincerely, but the officers seemed to think he was mocking the dead man.      "Monk, you cannot recite the Nembutsu over someone you killed," one of the officers said.      "I didn't want to kill him," Tanshi said. "I didn't plan for that to happen."     But the officers viewed this incident as just another fight, nothing more. "Silence, monk," an officer said.     "Come with us to the prefectural office," another officer said.     "I was only defending myself," Tanshi said. He wasn't much more than a child, and he'd killed a grown man on accident. Surely the officers didn't believe him capable of cold-blooded murder?     The old woman crawled out from where she'd been hiding. She was weeping when she said, "Officer, this monk has avenged my daughter's death. Please forgive him."     "What?" The officers looked at the dead woman's body.      The old woman knelt before the officers and said, "I beg you. Please overlook this event for the sake of my daughter."     "No. You're also coming as a material witness."     The old woman turned pale. "What?"     Tanshi couldn't fight the officers, of course. He felt sorry for the old woman, who'd gotten caught up in this terrible situation. "I'll cooperate with you," he said. "Take my staff. I will follow you to the prefectural office." He handed over his staff and put his hands behind his back.     He had avenged a death by killing another. What an horrible disaster. There was nothing but suffering in this world.     It was so strange: yesterday and today, Tanshi had come across the deaths of two young women and mourned for them, each in a different way.     Tanshi was a murderer, now.     Having broken the precept of drinking alcohol, I have also broken the precept of taking a life. I can no longer be a monk, Tanshi thought.    The officers took him and the old woman away. Translator's Notes 1 I use typical (more mainstream) terms to describe the basic Buddhist ideas here (samsara and moksha), though the text sometimes leans on older terms and especially older kanji. To simplify things, I've used the modern terms because it's easier to search for information on these concepts that way.↩ 2 Elixirs of immortality: Devout Daoists often ate things like jade, gold, cinnabar (ore from which mercury is derived) and certain flowers. Special elixirs sometimes contained arsenic and mercury. The inventors of many elixirs died prematurely from taking their attempts to prolong their life.↩ 3 則天皇后: Wu Zetian, China's only ruling empress. ↩ 4 頭陀: Zuda, derived from 頭陀袋, zudabukuro ("carryall sack") is the word that Tanshi uses to describe the bald itinerant monk.↩ 5 Namu Amida Butsu ［南無阿弥陀仏］: "Homage to Amida Buddha" or "I take refuge in Amida Buddha." Also known as the Nembutsu. ↩ Additional Notes 木魚: Temple blocks are a type of percussion instrument consisting of a set of woodblocks. It is descended from the muyu, an instrument originating from eastern Asia, where it is commonly used in religious ceremonies. According to tradition, Siddhartha seated himself at the foot of a tree, which has since been called the Bodhi Tree (the tree of enlightenment). He vowed to sit beneath that tree until he had attained deep insight into suffering. The demon Mara rose to tempt him and to attack him with arrows of passion. Desire, fear, pride, and thirst rose to challenge his clear concentration of mind. But Siddhartha placed his hand on the earth, calling earth itself to witness his firm resolve. When the morning star appeared, Siddhartha Gautama became the Buddha, literally the “Awakened One.” He had woken up to the nature of the changing world and the causes of suffering. This state of awakening was also called nirvana, literally the “blowing out” of the fires of ego-centered attachment which are the source of suffering. Siddhartha is called Shakyamuni Buddha, the “Sage of the Shakya Clan,” to make clear that this awakening is not uniquely his. Over time, there have been other individuals who have awakened to the truth and gained enlightenment, thereby becoming Buddhas. Among the most well known and widely venerated are Amitabha (Amida) Buddha, Vairochana Buddha, and Bhaishajya-guru (better known as the Medicine Buddha). Indeed, sometimes Buddhas are depicted by the thousands, for the “Buddha nature” is the true awakened nature of all beings. When the text refers to "the Buddha" with no extra label (Amida has appeared a few times), it is Shakyamuni Buddha who is being referred to. Peng Zu (彭祖, "Ancestor Peng") is a legendary long-lived figure in China. He supposedly lived for more than 450 years in the Shang dynasty. Some legends say that one year was 60 days in ancient China; that made him more than 130 years old. Others say he was 400 years old. Another says he was accidentally left off of the death list in heaven. Peng Zu was regarded as a saint in Daoism. The pursuit of elixir of life by practitioners of Daoism was highly influenced by Peng Zu. He is well known in Chinese culture as a symbol for longevity, nutrition treatments, and sex therapy treatments. Legend maintains he married more than 100 wives and fathered hundreds of children.