Gods 024: Cloak and Dagger
King Zhou gets a new pleasure terrace, a party with gods, and a comfy new article of clothing.
Transcript
Welcome to the Chinese Lore Podcast, where I retell classic Chinese stories in English. This is episode 24 of Investiture of the Gods.
Last time, taking a page out of classic Chinese literature, Ji Chang reverentially made multiple visits to court Jiang Ziya and was able to track him down. When we left them, Ji Chang and his minister San (4) Yisheng (2,1) had just each made a long recruitment pitch. Then, they showered him with all the gifts that they had brought.
Jiang Ziya told his young boy servant to accept the gifts. San Yisheng then drove Ji Chang’s royal carriage to the thatched hut and invited Jiang Ziya to take a seat. Confronted by this overwhelming display of sincerity, Jiang Ziya now kneeled and said, “Your elderly servant is already immensely grateful for all the kindness your lordship has shown me. How can I dare to exceed my station and ride in your carriage? This I would never do!”
Ji Chang, however, said, “I arranged this carriage specifically for you. You must ride in it, so as not to thwart my good intentions.”
The two of them then went back and forth for a while, before San Yisheng cut in and told Ji Chang, “Since the great talent refuses to ride in the carriage, your lordship should respect his wishes. You may let him ride your personal horse.”
“But that would belie the sincerity I have shown for days,” Ji Chang said. And so this went on for a while longer, before Ji Chang finally relented and offered Jiang Ziya his horse instead. So as they headed back, Ji Chang rode in his carriage, and Jiang Ziya rode on his horse. As the entourage made its way back to the palace, Jiang Ziya was greeted with cheers the whole way as civilians jostled for position to get a good look at the great talent that their lord had just landed.
Once they were back at the palace, Ji Chang held court and appointed Jiang Ziya as the Right Prime Minister of the Spiritual Terrace and threw a feast to welcome him. So, at age 80, Jiang Ziya had finally reached the high station he had aspired to. And he governed wisely, and Ji Chang’s court grew even more prosperous, as he was aided by capable ministers and valiant generals.
News of Ji Chang’s new acquisition soon made its way into the Shang domain. The commanding general of Sishui (4,3) Pass, one of the five passes protecting the Shang kingdom’s borders, quickly relayed it to the Shang capital.
When the news arrived at the capital, it landed on the desk of the Second Minister Bi Gan, who was Jiang Ziya’s mentor and ally when the latter was serving in the Shang court. After reading that his one-time protege was now the prime minister of the growing threat out west, Bi Gan said nothing at first. Then, he looked up and sighed, “Jiang Ziya has always been ambitious. He is now serving the Zhou (1) Kingdom; he must have grand designs. This is no small matter.”
So Bi Gan rushed to the Star-Picking Tower and told King Zhou (4), “I just received a report from the commander of Sishui Pass. It said that Ji Chang has successfully recruited Jiang Ziya as his prime minister. His ambition is grand. Right now, the grand dukes of the East and South are both rebelling. If Ji Chang also rises up, we would have rebellion throughout the land, and the civilians will start getting ideas, too. And we have been afflicted by droughts and floods. Both the people and the army are suffering, and our storehouses are empty. And Grand Tutor Wen (2) is still engaged in indecisive campaigns in the far North. The kingdom is facing many crises. I hope your highness will act decisively.”
“In that case, I will go to court and discuss this with all the ministers,” King Zhou (4) said.
Just then, though, an attendant came over and said that Chong (2) Houhu (2,3), the Grand Duke of the North, was requesting an audience. King Zhou summoned him up, and Chong Houhu said, “By your decree, your servant has been overseeing the construction of the Deer Terrace. It has taken two years and four months, but the work is now complete, so I have come to report.”
King Zhou was delighted and praised Chong Houhu profusely. Chong Houhu said aww thanks, but the credit really belongs to the literal whip I’ve been cracking on the workers.
King Zhou then told Chong Houhu about the urgent report regarding Ji Chang and Jiang Ziya and asked him if he had any ideas for eliminating this threat. But Chong Houhu simply scoffed.
“What is the big deal with Ji Chang or Jiang Ziya? Their perspectives are as narrow as that of frogs at the bottom of a well, and their lights are as feeble as fireflies. Jiang Ziya may hold the title of the prime minister of the Zhou (1) kingdom, but it’s like a dying cicada clinging to a withering poplar tree in winter. They will both perish soon. It would be an insult to your highness to waste forces to quash those bugs. In my view, there’s nothing you need to do. I hope you won’t even bother with them.”
“Your words are wise,” King Zhou (4) said. “Well, since the Deer Terrace is completed, I shall go enjoy it.”
So King Zhou put the unimportant news from the borderlands out of his mind and turned his attention to the much more pressing matter of his new plaything. He and his queen Daji now took the Seven Fragrance Carriage, that self-driving vehicle that Ji Chang’s son had presented to him, and was accompanied by their maids and attendants as they made their way to the Deer Terrace. It was indeed a ginormous structure, decked out in luxuries.
Feeling mighty happy, King Zhou ordered a feast and he bestowed cups of wine to Bi Gan and Chong Houhu and then sent them away. Then, he and Daji got down to enjoying themselves on the terrace.
While they were drinking, King Zhou said to Daji, “You once told me that when the Deer Terrace is completed, immortals, gods, and goddesses would come here to make merry. Now, the terrace is finished. When do you think they will show up?”
Uhhh, oh boy. So in case you forgot, Daji had pitched this whole Deer Terrace idea to the king for the sole purpose of forcing Jiang Ziya to oversee its construction, knowing he would refuse, which would then give her the opportunity to get revenge against him for killing her friend, the Jade Lute Demon. So, she might’ve gone just a tad overboard in selling the king on the merits of the project. She never thought it would actually get built; I mean, look at this giant, gaudy monstrosity. Who the heck does that? But now, she’s being asked to make good on her promise of “If you build it they will come.”
Thinking quickly, she replied, “Gods and immortals are pure creatures. They would only show up on a cloudless night with a full, bright moon.”
“Today is the 10th day of the month,” King Zhou. “So the moon should be full on the 14th or 15th. I would like to meet gods and immortals on one of those nights. What do you think?”
Daji did not dare to say no, so she just said yeah of course. And then she and the king got back to their debauched partying day and night on the Deer Terrace. But underneath her usual enchanting exterior, Daji was worried about how she was going to pull off a meeting between the king and the gods. Then, an idea came to her.
On the night of the 13th, around midnight, King Zhou was sound asleep. Daji quietly snuck out of bed, turned back into her demon form, and flew to the tomb of the Yellow Emperor, which lay about 10 miles outside the south gate of the capital. This was her nest before she assumed human form, and her fellow demons still resided here. When she arrived, she was greeted by her fellow foxes, as well as the Nine-Headed Pheasant Demon.
“Sister, what are you doing here?” the Pheasant Demon asked. “You have been enjoying yourself in the palace. I’m surprised you still remember us and this desolate place.”
“Sister,” Daji protested, “I may have left you to be at the king’s side day and night, but I have never forgotten you. Right Now, the king has finished building the Deer Terrace and wants to meet immortals and gods there. So I came up with an idea: You and those among our minions who can change forms can assume the appearance of gods, goddesses, and immortals, and go attend the feast at the terrace. Those who can’t assume other forms will stay home and keep watch. You all can come two nights from now.”
The Pheasant Demon said, “I have some business to attend to, so I won’t be able to make it. Among our minions, only 39 can change forms. They can go.”
Daji left them instructions, and then flew back to the king’s bed and once again assumed human form. King Zhou was still passed out drunk and had no idea that she was ever gone. When morning came, he asked her, “Tomorrow is the 15th. The moon will be at its fullest. Will the gods show up?”
Daji replied, “Tomorrow night, set up a feast for 39 guests. Arrange the seating on three levels at the Deer Terrace, and the immortals will descend. When you meet them, you will add countless years to your life.”
King Zhou was delighted and said, “With immortals attending, we should have a court minister serve them wine.”
“It must be a very high minister,” Daji said.
“Among all the officials, Bi Gan is the best drinker,” King Zhou said.
And so, Bi Gan was summoned to the terrace, where the king told him, “Tomorrow I would like for you to attend a feast with immortals at the Deer Terrace and help out as needed.”
Bi Gan was befuddled by this command and was like, umm, sure, I guess I’ll be there. Once he was alone, he looked toward the heavens and lamented, “Oh you muddle-headed tyrant! Your kingdom has fallen into such disgrace, and the situation is so dire. And yet you’re letting your fancy run wild and talk of partying with immortals. This sounds like sorcery. It’s yet another bad omen for the state!”
The next day, King Zhou ordered a feast to be laid out as Daji had instructed. And then, the sun couldn’t set fast enough for his taste. As evening descended, a full, bright moon climbed into the sky. King Zhou and Daji now sat down at their table and started drinking and waiting for the promised immortals to show up.
Meanwhile, outside the capital, in the tomb of the Yellow Emperor, 39 fox demons who had been cultivating their Dao for anywhere from a hundred to five hundred years now took on the appearance of immortals, gods, and goddesses. Then, they took off for the Deer Terrace.
At the terrace, the moon suddenly vanished behind a thick fog as a wild gale roared like a tiger. As the wind blew, one figure after another descended from the heavens. When the moon gradually re-emerged, 39 … umm … immortals stood on the terrace.
“The immortals have arrived,” Daji said as King Zhou hurriedly peeked out from behind a curtain. He saw that these figures were clad in Daoist garb, with their hair donned up like Daoist priests or gods and goddesses. Then he heard one of these immortals tell the others, “My Daoist friends, greetings!”
All 39 figures now said, “Thank you, King Zhou, for setting this feast for us. May you and your state live forever!”
Daji now issued a decree, “Summon the official attendant.”
And that was Bi Gan’s cue. He ascended the terrace and saw all these eccentric looking characters under the moonlight, which made him half-believe that they might actually be immortals. So he had no choice but to step forward and welcome them with courtesy.
One of the guests asked him who he was, and Bi Gan said, “I am Bi Gan, the Second Minister, here to serve you on my lord’s command.”
“Well, since we were destined to meet, you shall have an extra thousand years added to your life,” the guest said.
That only made Bi Gan even more suspicious. But then, the order came from the king and queen for him to start serving wine. So he carried a golden bottle and poured wine at each of the 39 guests’ tables. Then he stood to one side with bottle in hand.
But as he stood there, something didn’t smell right, literally. See, these fox demons were able to mask their appearances, but not their stench, and Bi Gan was getting a strong whiff of it. He thought to himself, “Immortals are supposed to be pure beings, so what’s with the stench?”
As those thoughts raced through his mind, he lamented to himself, “Right now, the king has lost his way, and strange things are happening. It’s not a good sign for the state.”
While he was brooding, the party was raging. Daji ordered him to keep the wine flowing and to drink a toast with each of the 39 guests. Well, Bi Gan, remember, was tabbed for this assignment because he could hold his liquor, so he drank a cup with each of the 39 guests, and then he did it again. After chugging 78 cups, he was still going strong, but his guests were getting shaky, because they were chugging two cups for every one cup that Bi Gan drank. And these fox demons weren’t used to the strong royal brew.
A few among them were able to keep their wits about them, but the others were buzzing big time. And as they were buzzing, they started to lose control over their sorcery, and their foxtails dangled behind them.
As Bi Gan was making his second round of toasts at each table, he started to notice that some of these guests had … umm … a new accessory hanging from their rear. He realized what was up and thought to himself, “I am a minister, and yet I have been paying respect to demons. How embarrassing!”
As he wrestled with those thoughts, and the overwhelming pungent smell, Bi Gan gritted his teeth. Meanwhile, Daji noticed that some of the lesser demons were losing control, so she issued a command, “The official attendant may descend the terrace. And the immortals may return to their homes.”
Finally relieved of his humiliating duty, Bi Gan left the palace in a foul mood. As he walked out of the palace gate and prepared to mount his horse, he saw a pair of red gauze lanterns approaching, and behind them followed a squadron of soldiers. This was Huang the Flying Tiger passing by on patrol.
When he saw Bi Gan, Flying Tiger hurriedly went over and asked him, “Minister, what urgent business kept you at the palace until now?”
Stamping his foot, Bi Gan said, “My lord, the state has fallen into chaos, and demons are stirring up trouble at court. What should we do?! Yesterday the king commanded me to attend some sort of feast for immortals and gods. Tonight, under a full moon, I went to the Deer Terrace and saw a bunch of Daoist priests there, and they sort of looked like immortals. Turns out they were a bunch of fox demons. After a few cups, their tails starting hanging down, and I saw it clearly under the moonlight. What’s to be done about this?!”
“Minister, go on home; I will deal with this,” Flying Tiger said.
After Bi Gan left, Flying Tiger called up his four sworn brothers and lieutenants and told them, “Take 20 strong soldiers each, and go lie in wait outside each of the four city gates. If you see those priests leave the city by your gate, follow them back to their nest, scout it closely, and report back.”
As 5 a.m. neared, the gaggle of drunken fox demons — too inebriated to fly — stumbled out of the palace and staggered their way out of the capital through the south gate. From the shadows, one of Flying Tiger’s lieutenants, Zhou (1) Ji (4), spotted them and followed at a distance. Ten miles later, Zhou Ji and his men approached the tomb of the Yellow Emperor. Next to the tomb, they saw a cave, and all the immortals and gods crawled through the cave entrance.
The next morning, the four lieutenants reported back to Flying Tiger, and Zhou Ji detailed what he saw. Flying Tiger immediately told him, “Take 300 bodyguards and plenty of firewood. Block the entrance to the cave and start a fire. Report back to me this afternoon.”
Once Zhou Ji left to carry out this order, Bi Gan arrived at Flying Tiger’s home, and they sat down to tea. Flying Tiger told Bi Gan about what his men found, and Bi Gan was delighted. The two then started drinking and discussing state affairs. Before you knew it, it was afternoon, and Zhou Ji had returned. He told them that he had blocked the cave and started the fire as commanded.
“Minister, how about we go check it out together?” Flying Tiger asked.
Bi Gan agreed, and the two rode out with their bodyguards. When they arrived at the tomb, the fire was still roaring. Flying Tiger ordered his men to put out the fire and use hooks to drag out whatever was left inside the cave. Before long, they were standing in front of a pile of dead foxes. The stench was unbearable. Some of the foxes had been burned to a crisp, while many others had suffocated from the smoke.
Bi Gan turned to Flying Tiger and said, “There are a lot of dead foxes whose fur hasn’t been burned. Find some good ones, skin them, and use their pelts to make a cloak, which I shall present to his highness. It will put that sorceress Daji on notice, and she will become restless and make a mistake. That will bring his highness to his senses. He will either demote or banish Daji, and we would have acted as loyal officials should.”
Both he and Flying Tiger were quite happy with how things turned out. They returned to Flying Tiger’s home, drank to their hearts’ content, and took leave of each other.
Several months later, winter had arrived. One day, King Zhou was partying on Deer Terrace with Daji as usual. It was a gray, overcast day as snow flurries fell and covered the ground. In the middle of their feast, Bi Gan arrived and asked for an audience. When he was summoned up to the top of the terrace, he bowed and said, “The Deer Terrace is very high, and the winds and snow of winter are harsh. I was worried about your highness’s health, so I have come to present you with a cloak to keep you warm.”
“Uncle, you are of advanced age,” King Zhou said. “You should keep this cloak for your own use, and yet you are offering it to me. That is a testament to your loyalty.”
He then ordered the cloak be brought up. Bi Gan now presented a red platter. The outside of the cloak was red, while the inside was the color of fur. He picked up the cloak and personally put it on the king, and King Zhou was like, “Hey, this is NICE!”
“As king, I possess everything within the four seas, and yet I did not have such a cloak to keep out the cold,” King Zhou said. “Uncle, you have rendered great service in presenting this to me.”
King Zhou then bestowed wine to Bi Gan and asked him to stay and join the party. All this time, Daji was watching from behind the curtain. It took only one look for her to realize what that cloak was made of, and she felt her innards being stabbed and burned.
“Bi Gan you old scoundrel!” she cursed under her breath as tears rolled down her cheek. “What’s it to you that my minions attended a feast? You are clearly targeting me with this gift, hoping I will slip up. If I don’t cut out your old scoundrel heart, I do not deserve to be queen!”
A while later, Bi Gan took his leave, and King Zhou came inside to show his queen his soft, comfy new cloak. But Daji said, “I have a piece of foolish advice. I don’t know if your highness can accept it. Your majesty is the incarnation of the dragon, so how can you wear the pelts of foxes? It’s not appropriate.”
“My wife, you’re quite right,” King Zhou said, and he immediately took off the cloak and had it stored away.
As she watched the king put away the cloak made of her minions’ pelts, Daji thought to herself, “I was advising the king to build the Deer Terrace as a means to avenge my sister the Jade Lute Demon. Who knew it would cause this trouble and get all my little foxes killed?”
From that day forth, she bore a constant, seething hatred for Bi Gan, and yet she had no opportunity to move against him. The days flew by, and one day, while keeping the king company at Deer Terrace, Daji suddenly got an idea.
In the middle of the party, King Zhou looked up and was stunned by what he saw. His queen was looking like a pale imitation of her usual irresistible self. Gone was the radiance that had seemed as lovely as the fresh blooms of peonies and begonia radiating in the morning sun.
“Why do you stare at me in silence, your majesty?” Daji asked knowingly.
When King Zhou merely smiled and gave no answer, Daji pressed him. So he said, “I was just dazzled by your beauty, like that of a fresh bloom or a piece of fine jade. It’s so irresistible that I can’t bear to let go.”
“I have no great beauty; your majesty just adores me, that’s all,” Daji said. “However, I have a sworn sister named Hu (2) Ximei (3,4), who is a nun at Purple Cloud Nunnery. My beauty is a pale shadow of hers.”
Being the debauched horndog that he was, King Zhou’s mind flew past the nun thing and straight to the beauty part. “Can I meet your sister?” he asked Daji.
“But she’s a virgin maid,” Daji said. “She has been a nun since her youth and has been cultivating her Dao at Purple Cloud Nunnery. It won’t be easy to arrange a meeting.”
“No matter what, my darling, you must let me meet her,” the king insisted. “You told me about her, after all.”
“She and I were close friends in our youth,” Daji said. “When she left to go to the nunnery, I said to her while weeping that we would never get to meet again. But she said, ‘If I indeed learn the secrets of the Dao, I will send you a stick of incense. If you wish to meet me, you just need to light the incense, and I will be there soon.’ A year after she left, I indeed received a stick of incense from her. But then, a couple months later, your majesty brought me to the capital, and I forgot about it while I was keeping you company. But given what you said just now, I do not dare to keep that from you.”
King Zhou was ecstatic. “Darling, light the incense at once!” he said.
“Don’t rush,” she said. “My sister is an immortal, not a commoner. Wait till tomorrow, and set up tea and fruits. I will bathe and then light the incense to welcome my sister. That’s the way to do it.”
“You’re right; we must follow your advice,” King Zhou said.
And so, they got back to drinking before turning in for the night. Around midnight, while the king snoozed, Daji snuck out and flew to her hideout in the Yellow Emperor’s tomb. There, she was greeted by only one demon — the Nine-Headed Pheasant.
“Sister,” the Pheasant Demon said while weeping, “That feast of yours killed all your minions, and they even got skinned. Do you know that?”
Daji also wept and said, “Oh sister, it’s because of my little ones’ terrible fate that I came up with an idea.”
The next evening, King Zhou and Daji were again partying on the terrace, and King Zhou kept prodding Daji to light the magic incense to summon her sworn sister.
“Ok, I will light the incense to call for her,” Daji said. “But when she gets here, your majesty must stay out of sight first. If you come on too strong and scare her away, it would be hard to convince her to come back. Let me talk to her first, and then you can meet her.”
“I will do whatever you say,” the king promised.
So Daji washed her hands and lit the incense. Around 7 p.m., a strong gale kicked up, and dark clouds gathered. A black mist blocked out the moon, and everything turned dark.
“What a wind! It’s turning heaven and earth upside down!” the king exclaimed.
“This must be my sister Ximei (3,4) arriving on the clouds,” Daji told him.
Just then, they heard the tinkling of jade pendants in the air, followed by a thud and someone landed on the terrace. Daji quickly sent the king indoors to stay out of sight. “My sister is here,” she said. “Let me talk to her first and then make the introduction.”
King Zhou had no choice but to duck inside and peek out from behind the curtain. And what he saw made his jaw drop.
To find out what King Zhou saw, tune in to the next episode of the Chinese Lore Podcast. Thanks for listening!
Music in This Episode
- “Sao Meo” by Doug Maxwell / Zac Zinger
- “Ravines” by Elphnt (from YouTube audio library)
- “Comfortable Mystery 3 – Film Noire” by Kevin MacLeod is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution license (Source: http://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/index.html?isrc=USUAN1100536; Artist: http://incompetech.com/)
- “Slow Times Over Here” by Midnight North (from YouTube audio library)
- “Day of Recon” by Max Surla/Media Right Productions (from YouTube audio library)
- “Dark Toys” by SYBS (from YouTube audio library)
- Whisper3 by PeriTune; music promoted by https://www.free-stock-music.com; Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0)
- “The Quiet Aftermath by Sir Cubworth (from YouTube audio library)