The Daoist Priest of Mount Lao

In the county there was a Wang Qi, the seventh in his family, son of an old family. In youth he admired the Dao, and hearing that Mount Lao had many immortals, he went there carrying a book satchel. Climbing a peak, he found a Daoist temple, very secluded. A Daoist priest sat on a prayer mat; his white hair hung to his collar, but his bearing was spirited and free. Wang Qi kowtowed and spoke with him; the priest's words were profound and mysterious. Wang Qi asked to become his disciple. The priest said, "I fear you are too pampered and lazy to endure hardship." Wang replied, "I can." The priest's disciples were many; at dusk they all gathered, and Wang Qi kowtowed to each, then stayed in the temple.

At dawn, the Daoist priest called Wang Qi to him, gave him an axe, and told him to go gather firewood with the other disciples. Wang Qi respectfully accepted the instruction. After a month or more, his hands and feet were covered with calluses, and he could not bear the hardship; secretly he began to think of going home. One evening he returned and saw two men drinking with the Master. It was already dusk, but there were no lamps or candles. The Master then cut a paper into the shape of a mirror and stuck it on the wall. In a moment, the moon shone brightly on the wall, its light revealing even the finest hairs. The disciples all gathered around, waiting on them. One guest said, "On such a fine night, with such delightful entertainment, we must not fail to share it." So he took a jug of wine from the table and distributed it among the disciples, telling them to drink their fill. Wang Qi thought to himself, "There are seven or eight of us; how can one jug of wine be enough for all?" Yet each disciple found a cup or bowl and vied to be the first to drain it, fearing the jug would be emptied. But as they poured again and again, the wine never diminished in the least. Wang Qi marveled at this. Soon another guest said, "We are grateful for the moonlight you have given us, but drinking in such silence is dull. Why not summon Chang'e?" Then he threw a chopstick into the moon, and a beautiful woman emerged from the light. At first she was less than a foot tall, but when she reached the ground, she became as tall as a person. She had a slender waist and a graceful neck, and she danced lightly the Rainbow-Feather Dance. Afterward she sang: "Immortal, immortal! Will you return? Will you keep me imprisoned in the Guanghan Palace?" Her voice was clear and piercing, like the sound of flutes and pipes. When the song ended, she whirled around and leaped onto the table. In the blink of an eye, she had turned back into a chopstick. The three men laughed heartily. Another guest said, "Tonight has been most enjoyable, but I cannot hold any more wine. Will you see me off to the Moon Palace?" The three moved their seats and gradually entered the moon. The disciples watched the three men sitting and drinking inside the moon; their beards and eyebrows were all visible, like reflections in a mirror. After a while, the moon gradually dimmed. The disciples lit a candle and brought it in, but only the Daoist priest was sitting there; the guests had vanished. The dishes and fruits on the table were still there, and the moon on the wall was just a round piece of paper like a mirror. The Daoist priest asked the disciples, "Have you drunk enough?" They replied, "Enough." "If you have had enough, you should go to bed early, so as not to delay tomorrow's firewood gathering." The disciples assented and withdrew.

Wang Qi secretly admired this and his thoughts of going home ceased. After another month, the hardship became unbearable, and the Daoist priest still had not taught him a single art. His heart could no longer endure it, so he took his leave, saying, "Your disciple traveled several hundred li to receive instruction from you, immortal Master. Even if I cannot obtain the art of immortality, if I could learn even a small thing, it would comfort my heart in seeking instruction. Now two or three months have passed, and I do nothing but gather firewood at dawn and return at dusk. At home, your disciple never knew such hardship." The Daoist priest laughed and said, "I told you that you could not endure hardship, and now it is as I said. Tomorrow morning, I will send you on your way."

Wang said, "Your disciple has labored many days; if the Master would deign to teach me some small art, this journey will not have been in vain." The Daoist priest asked what art he sought. Wang said, "I have often seen that when the Master walks, walls cannot block him. If I could but obtain this method, I would be content." The Daoist priest laughed and agreed. He then taught him the incantation, and after having him recite it, called out, "Enter!" Wang faced the wall but did not dare to enter. Again the priest said, "Try entering." Wang then walked calmly forward, but was stopped by the wall. The Daoist priest said, "Lower your head and dash in quickly; do not hesitate." Wang then stepped back several paces from the wall and ran toward it. When he reached the wall, it seemed empty, with nothing there. Turning to look, he was indeed outside the wall. Overjoyed, he went in to thank the priest. The Daoist priest said, "When you return home, you must maintain purity; otherwise, it will not work." Then he gave him travel money and sent him on his way.

When he reached home, he boasted of having met an immortal and that no solid wall could stop him. His wife did not believe him. Wang imitated what he had done, stepping back several paces from the wall and running headlong into it. His head struck the hard wall, and he suddenly fell. His wife helped him up and looked at him; on his forehead a lump had risen like a huge egg. She ridiculed him. Wang, ashamed and furious, could only curse the old Daoist priest for his unscrupulousness.

The Historian of the Strange remarks: Hearing this story, there is none who does not laugh heartily, yet they do not realize that those in the world who are like Wang Qi are indeed not few. Now there are vulgar fellows who love poison but fear medicine, and so there are those who lick boils and suck hemorrhoids, offering arts of displaying power and violence to cater to their wishes, deceiving them, saying, 'If you practice this art and go forth, you can act with impunity and meet no obstacle.' At the first trial, there is always some small effect, and so they declare that under the vast heavens, everything can be done in this way. The momentum will not stop until they dash against a hard wall and stumble and fall.