Chapter Fifty-three: The Monk of Three Carts—Shaving the Head to Awaken the Heart (Part One)

The exorcists had arrived: a grand monk, a Daoist priest, and a magician, each accompanied by several apprentices. They chanted incantations and began the ritual to summon Li Wei’s soul back to his body.

Li Wei watched them through half-lidded eyes, finding it all rather amusing. Unlike the charlatans of later times who would put on fiery spectacles, these men were sincere—some forming hand seals, others dancing with peach-wood swords or banners, their eyes brimming with conviction.

They truly believed in their craft! Not only did they believe, even the famed physician Sun Simiao accepted the existence of these arts, recording much about them in great detail.

Of course, even if Sun Simiao had come himself, he would not have been able to call Li Wei’s soul back.

When the ritual ended, they brought out talismans and little pills, startling Li Wei. Talisman water—at worst, it meant swallowing some burnt paper ash. But those little pills were another matter; who knew what was in them—lead, mercury, or any number of toxic substances. Even the talismans were written with cinnabar, and not something to ingest lightly.

He sat bolt upright and opened his eyes.

The men rejoiced. “The prince is awake!”

They believed their ritual had succeeded and were overjoyed.

Li Wei forced a smile, unsure what to say. After a moment, he murmured, “My head aches—leave me.”

“Yes, Your Highness!” They withdrew. Li Wei beckoned to Bi’er, who hurried over. Li Wei said, “Bi’er, I am not ill.”

Bi’er nodded enthusiastically, covering her mouth to hide her laughter. Only she and Di Renjie’s group knew the truth.

Li Wei eyed the golden-glinting pills, breaking into a cold sweat. Why did ancient emperors so love these things? They’d been eaten for generations—even the original Li Hong had taken them. Lacking proof to denounce them, he said, “If I were sick, I could take these. But now, I am well—if I eat them, I might make myself ill.”

“Understood.”

“See to it they’re disposed of.”

“Alright,” Bi’er replied, half-understanding. She did know, at least, that all medicines are somewhat poisonous, and one shouldn’t take them recklessly.

After throwing away the talisman water and the pills, Li Wei finally breathed easy. He resumed feigning illness. In the Eastern Palace, only Bi’er felt at ease; the others were all anxiety and dread. The prince, after all, had suffered a grave illness and now appeared to have lost his soul. If anything went wrong, what would become of them?

Night fell and dawn broke; at last, they summoned a new person—a grand monk.

Bi’er entered to report, “Your Highness, they have invited Master Kuiji to retrieve your soul.”

She grinned as she spoke.

Li Wei thought of the three-cart monk—nonsense, of course—but Master Kuiji was truly renowned in Chang’an. That day when Helan Minzhi sought to make trouble for Li Wei, had he not seized upon Kuiji’s name, Li Wei might have been in real difficulty.

Li Wei was curious. Influenced by famous tales, this was, after all, the disciple of Tang Sanzang. Just as in tales of the Three Kingdoms, every figure seemed to have a story. In reality, the chaos of the Sixteen Kingdoms, the Northern and Southern dynasties, and the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms rivaled the Three Kingdoms in complexity, but fewer people knew about them.

A lean monk entered, clad in spotless white robes, his face serene. He was not remarkable in appearance—broad-faced and, despite his days spent in the monastery, dark-skinned. Yet his manner and bearing made people feel at ease.

A true high monk—so this was what people called charisma.

As the grand monk entered like a gentle spring breeze, even Bi’er looked on in admiration.

Kuiji approached Li Wei’s bedside, placed his palms together, and said, “This humble monk greets Your Highness.”

“I dare not accept—please, be seated.”

Do not think that because Kuiji was a grand monk, even Li Wei’s father, Emperor Gaozong, would show him respect.

Kuiji continued, “I was summoned to the palace, but, Your Highness, I am versed only in scriptures. As for exorcisms or soul-retrieval, I am not skilled—my apologies if this brings you disappointment.”

The monk spoke frankly.

Yet this only increased Li Wei’s respect. A master, after all, would not stoop to deception. He waved the others away and said softly, “I have not lost my soul; there is no need for a summoning.”

Kuiji was perceptive—how else would he have become the favored disciple of Tang Sanzang? Regardless of his lineage, Tang Sanzang was a reclusive sage and not one to grant favors lightly. In his later years, as Tang Sanzang’s health declined, Kuiji assisted in translating scriptures and helped complete the “Great Tang Records on the Western Regions.” After Tang Sanzang passed, Kuiji began composing his own major treatise, the “Commentary on the Treatise on the Establishment of Consciousness-Only,” though it remained unfinished.

Though detached from worldly affairs, the prince’s attempted assassination had shaken Chang’an. Since last night, the city was in an uproar, with countless suspects rounded up. Kuiji could hardly be unaware. After a brief pause, he understood, pressed his palms together, and chanted, “Amitabha, well and good.”

Yet what was so well, Li Wei could not guess.

Kuiji added, “But, Your Highness, I must thank you on behalf of the Dharma-Characteristics School.”

“Why say so?”

“That story you told.”

Li Wei pinched his nose and forced a wry smile. Since coming to the Tang, he knew little and had spun later tales to amuse Princess Li Lingyue, not realizing they were pure fiction. Now the very subject of his stories sat before him. He said, “It was only to amuse my sister-in-law, Master—please don’t take it to heart.”

“What is true, what is false? To promote the good and conceal the evil is the mark of a gentleman.”

Kuiji truly did not mind—in fact, he was rather pleased. At this time, Buddhism was divided into eight schools: Vinaya, Tiantai, Dharma-Characteristics, Three Treatises, Esoteric, Pure Land, Huayan, and Chan. Chan was just emerging, while Tiantai, Dharma-Characteristics, and Huayan were most prominent.

Each school had its doctrines, often leading to debates and confusion. The Dharma-Characteristics School had started later; it began when the Indian monk Dharmatrata translated the final two chapters of the “Samdhinirmocana Sutra” as the “Sutra of the Continuity and Liberation of the Grounds,” and Gunabhadra in the Chen dynasty translated the “Treatise on the Establishment of the Mahayana” and the “Samdhinirmocana Sutra.” His disciples Huikai and Fatai, using these three texts, founded a new school. It was not until Tang Sanzang and Kuiji that the school flourished. Because the master and disciple resided at Daci’en Monastery, it was also known as the Cien School.

Because their scholarship was profound and thorough, their doctrines became highly systematic but also complicated. The main tenets centered on the Eight Consciousnesses and the theory of seeds, dividing worldly phenomena into five positions and a hundred dharmas, and including the Three Natures, Three Non-Natures, Four Conditions, Ten Causes, Five Fruits, and so forth.

Not only ordinary folk, but even disciples of the Dharma-Characteristics School found it hard to grasp.

Thus, while the master and disciple elevated the school to its peak, their passing would inevitably spell its decline. Kuiji, perceiving this, was anxious. Li Wei’s mythical story, by sparking curiosity among the common people, unexpectedly benefited the school. Hence his thanks.

Of course, there were advantages—the study of the Dharma-Characteristics School required great learning and familiarity with the scriptures. Tang Sanzang himself was formidable—not only in China, but even in India, at doctrinal debates, he left the greatest masters abashed.

Li Wei neither cared nor understood. The disputes between Buddhist schools, or even between states, were to him but fleeting clouds. What mattered was survival. Still, seeing that Kuiji did not mind, Li Wei felt relieved. After all, he had played fast and loose with future legends.

He said, “Master, your arrival is timely; I have a request.”

“Please, speak.”

Li Wei explained the matter of the great religious ceremony.

Kuiji fell silent for a moment.

“Master, I know these are businessmen, and it puts you in a difficult position. Yet this is a worthy deed, in keeping with the Buddha’s heart.”

“It is not about businessmen. In this world, there are the eight consciousnesses: eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind, manas, and alaya. It has taken me decades to refine my awareness. The seeds of consciousness still struggle in the tainted realm, though the pure seeds are beginning to form. Thus, I do not involve myself in worldly affairs. To preside over this ceremony would mean being sullied by dust once more…”

What on earth was he talking about? Li Wei grew dizzy and cut in, “Bodhi is fundamentally without tree, the bright mirror is not a stand; originally there is not a single thing, so where can dust alight?”

“Your Highness, do you practice Chan Buddhism?” Though the verse had not yet appeared in this era, Kuiji instantly recognized its Chan flavor.

“Master, I do not practice Chan nor your esteemed school. I only wish to spread what is good and discard what is evil. If this great ceremony succeeds, vast charity will be raised, and countless people will be saved from suffering. I do not know what the Buddhist Pure Land is, but I believe the Buddha wishes all people a good life—why else speak of universal salvation?”

No matter the school, this could not be denied.

Having spoken, he looked earnestly at Kuiji.

At this time, the Dharma-Characteristics School had not yet declined, and the fame of Tang Sanzang still shone bright. Master Kuiji was a household name in Chang’an. If he presided over this ceremony, it could cause a sensation; the city’s noble families, wealthy merchants, and even well-off commoners would come to witness the monk’s grandeur. The charity raised would surely be a vast sum.

Doctrines and sects were as transient as clouds; this was what truly mattered.

Now, all that remained was to see if this great monk was willing to risk being tainted by the dust of the world for the sake of the common people.