Gods 005: Foxy Lady

Daji makes quite the first impression on the king, much to his ministers’ chagrin.

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Transcript

Welcome to the Chinese Lore Podcast, where I retell classic Chinese stories in English. This is episode 5 of Investiture of the Gods. 

Last time, after much ado about nothing, the marquis Su Hu decided it was not so intolerable after all to send his daughter to the king’s court. So, after a teary goodbye, she was packed into a carriage and escorted toward the capital by Su Hu and a procession of 3,500 soldiers. Along the way, they stopped at the city of Enzhou (1,1), where Su Hu insisted they stay at the guest house despite warnings about the place being haunted. Around 11 o’clock that night, he suddenly felt a strange wind sweep through the house and blow out all the candles, followed by a cry from the backroom where her daughter was sleeping.

After lighting a candle, Su Hu rushed into her room and found her attendants huddled around her bed. He lifted up the canopy and asked, “My dear, I felt an ill wind just now. Did you see any demons?”

His daughter Daji (2,3) replied, “I was asleep and heard my attendants scream that there was a demon. By the time I sat up to take a look, the candles had been re-lit, and then you came in. I didn’t see any demons.”

“Oh thank heaven it didn’t startle you!” Su Hu said with relief. After helping her settle back into bed, he spent the rest of the night patrolling the house, not daring to sleep. 

Finally, dawn broke, and Su Hu breathed a sigh of relief. “Good thing my daughter wasn’t scared,” he thought to himself. “Thank the ancestors. Otherwise, it would’ve been another offense upon my head.”

When the sun came up, the procession set out again toward the capital. The rest of the journey was uneventful. After some days, they crossed the Yellow River, arrived outside the capital and pitched camp. Su Hu sent a messenger into the city to see Huang (2) Feihu (1,3). This Huang Feihu was a high-ranking official and one of the Shang court’s top commanders. His name means Flying Tiger, and so I’ll call him Flying Tiger from now on, as he’s a character that’ll appear many times.

Flying Tiger read the message from Su Hu and quickly dispatched his own messenger to go tell Su Hu to leave his army at camp, accompany his daughter into the city, and take up residence at the Golden Pavilion Guest House.

But there was more unseemly action afoot. The officials Fei (4) Zhong (4) and You (2) Hun (2), the two sycophants who had been wielding power around the king, were miffed again about Su Hu not sending them any gifts on this trip either. Remember, that was how this whole fracas started in the first place. They griped, “You rebel. Even though you’re offering your daughter as penance, his majesty’s mood changes by the minute. It’s all up to us how this goes down. Your fate rests in our hands, and yet you snub us completely! How despicable!”

Later that day, King Zhou (4) was chilling in his palace when his attendant reported that Fei Zhong was there to see him. The king summoned him in, and after paying his respects, Fei Zhong said, “Su Hu has brought his daughter to the capital and is awaiting your command.”

But the king flew into a rage when he heard the name Su Hu. “That scoundrel!” he cursed. “That day he refused my offer and disrespected the court. I was going to punish him, but you all advised against it and convinced me to let him go back to his state. But then that rebel wrote a seditious poem on the palace gate and further disrespected me. Even his death would not appease my anger. Tomorrow when he comes to court, I will bring the law down on his head and punish him for disobeying his lord.”

Aaaaand this is where some palm-greasing would have come in handy. If Fei Zhong had gotten his cut, he probably would chime in here with a few crafty words to settle the king down and tell him to let bygones be bygones. But instead, Fei Zhong said, “The king’s laws were not made for the king, but for the people. If you do not eliminate treasonous officials, that would be lawlessness. A court without laws would be abandoned by its subjects.”

“You are quite right,” King Zhou said. “I will take care of him tomorrow.”

The next morning, King Zhou held court, and all the officials were in attendance. The official in charge of the palace gates reported that Su Hu was waiting outside, ready to present his daughter as penance. The king sent for him.

Su Hu came in, dressed in the outfit of an official who had committed a crime. He kneeled in front of the hall and declared, “I, Su Hu, deserve to die!”

To this, King Zhou replied, “Su Hu, you wrote a seditious poem on the palace gates, declaring that you would never serve the Shang again. That prompted Grand Duke Chong (2) Houhu (2,3) to wage war on you. You dared to resist and kill officers and soldiers of the court. And yet, here you are again, paying respect to me. What do you have to say for yourself?”

He then turned to the guards and decreed, “Take him outside the palace gates and execute him, so as to enforce the laws of the land!”

But the prime minister, Shang (1) Rong (2), quickly stepped up and said, “Su Hu does deserve to be punished for his rebellion. But Ji (1) Chang (1), the Grand Duke of the West, convinced him to present his daughter as penance and to restore the honor between lord and vassal. Su Hu has obeyed your edict and presented his daughter to you as penance. There is room for mercy. Your majesty was going to punish him for not presenting his daughter. But now that he has, you still want to punish him. I beg you to have mercy on him.”

King Zhou was going back and forth on the matter, but Fei Zhong stepped out and said, “I hope your majesty will heed the prime minister’s advice. You can summon Su Hu’s daughter. If she really is an extraordinary beauty who is virtuous, knows the rites, and is eloquent in speech and ready to serve you, then you may spare Su Hu. But if she doesn’t please your majesty, then you can execute him and his daughter in public for their offense. That way, you will show the people that you deal with important matters seriously.”

“You’re quite right,” King Zhou said. And he ordered that Su Hu’s daughter be brought in. 

So Daji entered the palace, crossed over the Nine Dragons Bridge, and reached the entrance to the court. She kneeled and paid her respects. King Zhou took one look and had to steady his eyes. She had soft black hair, cheeks as pretty as peach blossoms, and a body as slender as a tender willow branch. She was dressed as elegantly as floating clouds. She resembled a begonia drunk with sunshine or a pear blossom drenched in rain. She was ethereal like a fairy from the Ninth Heaven or the Moon Palace. When she parted her cherry lips, she gave off a breath of perfumed fragrance. Her eyes were like autumn ripples, radiating a coquettish charm.

As she felt the king’s gaze upon her, Daji said, “I wish your highness eternal life.” 

Just those few words were enough to make King Zhou feel as though his spirit had left his body. His limbs felt soft, his face flushed, and his eyes jumped. He didn’t know what to do with himself. 

The king stood up and told Daji to rise. And then he instructed the palace maids to escort her to the Fairy Longevity Palace to await him. He then turned and pronounced, “Su Hu and his entire family are pardoned. He is restored to his former position, and as a member of the royal house, he shall receive an extra 2,000 piculs of rice each month. He is to be entertained at a feast for three days and then escorted by two civilian officials and three military officials back to his city in honor. Court is adjourned.”

And with that, the king rushed off before Su Hu had barely finished proclaiming his gratitude. Everybody at court knew what was on the king’s mind, and the loyal officials were not particularly pleased about it. But hey, what are you gonna do? He’s the king.

That night, the king and his new concubine consummated their union, and from that day forth, they were inseparable. Ever since Daji arrived, King Zhou feasted every day and made merry every night, neglecting matters of state. Before you knew it, two months had passed since he last held court. He spent all his time at the Fairy Longevity Palace with Daji, nevermind that reports from lords across the land were piling up and no visitor could get an audience with the king. It was as if, you might say, the king had been bewitched.

And well, there’s a reason for that. Because that wasn’t really Daji who walked into the palace. Remember that little power outage back at the haunted mansion on the way to the capital? Well, in the couple minutes it took Su Hu to light a candle and rush into his daughter’s room, something HAD  happened. 

You see, there was indeed a demon, a fox demon, in fact—the same fox demon that had been charged by the creation goddess Nüwa to bring down King Zhou after he had the audacity to deface the goddess’s temple with a lurid poem about how hot she was. So that night at the guest house, while Daji slept, the fox demon blew out all the candles. In those few moments of darkness, the demon had sucked away the poor girl’s soul, deprived her of life, and possessed her body. By the time Su Hu checked on his daughter, he was speaking to the fox demon. The girl that was his daughter was no more.

So, on one hand, you really have to feel sorry for the real Daji. For the mere crime of … existing, she had become the cause of a bloody war, the subject of a king’s lust, and the target of her father’s blame. She had all of one line in the novel, and it was, “Uhh, dad, why are you coming at me with a sword?” And then for the sake of her family, she was to be handed over to the king like a bag of coins to purchase his leniency. But before that could happen, she was blinked out of existence by a fox demon. She basically had no agency, and everything attributed to her character from this point on is actually the fox demon’s doing.

On the other hand, considering what gets attributed to her character from this point on, maybe it’s for the best that the real Daji wasn’t around for it, because what her character is about to do is going to live in infamy for all of history.

So anyway, the fox demon, aka Daji, was off to a smashing start, having captivated the king for the two-plus months since her arrival in the palace. Let’s leave the king to his debauchery for now, and skip on over to the Southern Tip Mountain. On this mountain there lived a Daoist Priest named Master of the Clouds. Through his meditations over the course of centuries, he had become an immortal. One day, he was just lounging around with nothing to do, so he grabbed a flower basket and set out to pick herbs near Tiger Cliff.

While he was riding the clouds, he suddenly saw the emanations of an evil spirit shooting high into the sky in the southeast. Master of the Clouds took one look and sighed, “That’s the fox demon. She has taken human form and is embedded in the palace in the capital. If I don’t eliminate her quickly, she will cause calamity. I am a man of religion. It is my duty to deliver mercy.”

So he summoned his disciple, a young acolyte named Golden Haze, and told him, “Go fetch me a branch from an old pine tree. I will make a sword from it and use it to exorcise that demon.”

“Master, why not use your magic sword?” the acolyte asked. “That would root out the demon for good.”

But Master of the Clouds laughed and said, “That fox demon isn’t worthy of my magic blade. A pine branch is more than enough.”

So the acolyte found him an old pine branch, and the priest shaved it into a sword. He then told the acolyte to watch his cave and that he would be back soon. He left the mountain and rode the clouds toward the capital.

In the capital, King Zhou was continuing to indulge in wine and his new concubine daily while ignoring the affairs of state. And this had become the talk of every court official. One high minister, Mei (2) Bo (2), went to see the top two ministers, Shang (1) Rong (2) and Bi (3) Gan (4), and said, “His majesty has lost his way and is drowning in women and wine while neglecting the affairs of state. Reports are piling up. Chaos is about to erupt. We are top officials. It is our obligation to serve the country and the people with loyalty. We have no choice but to sound the gongs and drums to gather the court and invite his majesty to join us, so that we may raise this matter and advise him strongly, in order to fulfill our duties as his officials.”

The other two agreed, and soon, King Zhou’s neverending party was interrupted by the sound of the drums and gongs that signaled court was being called to session, along with an invitation for him to join his officials there. So he had no choice but to tell Daji, “My beauty, wait for a minute. I will be right back.”

He then hopped into his carriage and went to court, where all the officials paid their respects. But as soon as they got up off their knees, he saw his two top ministers come forward carrying stacks of court documents and reports. Behind them followed the next eight ranking ministers, also carrying big stacks of paperwork, or tortoise shells, or whatever medium they used for writing during the Shang dynasty. And behind them followed his top commander, Huang the Flying Tiger, also carrying a stack of documents.

King Zhou let out a silent groan. He was SO NOT IN THE MOOD for this. But while he was eyeing the exit, his top two ministers approached, kneeled and said, “All the lords of the land have been submitting reports, and yet why has your majesty not attended court in two months? You spend every day in your private palace, neglecting the procedures of the court. Someone close to you must be distracting you. Your majesty must prioritize the affairs of state. You cannot stay shut up in your palace and ignore those affairs and disappoint the people’s faith in you. Your servants fear that heaven would be dissatisfied and that we will soon be beset by famines, floods, and droughts. We hope your majesty will correct your course, avoid indulging in women, and pay attention to the people. That will earn heaven’s favor and ensure prosperity for the state and the people.”

To this, King Zhou said, “I have heard that all regions within the four seas are peaceful and prosperous, except for the rebellion in the North Seas District. But that’s just a mere pimple, and I have already sent Grand Tutor Wen (2) to put down those rebels. They are of no concern. Ministers, your words are wise; how can I not understand? But all the affairs of the court are being handled by you on my behalf. You may proceed as you see fit. How can there be any backlog? Even if I held court regularly, I would just be telling you to carry on. There’s no need to talk over everything.”

While they were talking over this particular issue, the palace gate official came in and said, “There is a priest from the Southern Tip Mountain named Master of the Clouds here to see your majesty. He said he has an important secret matter to discuss, but did not dare to barge in, so he is awaiting your summon.”

So King Zhou was thinking to himself: “Looks like I’m stuck here at court for a bit. I could spend it being bored to tears by the mundane matters in those stacks of reports my ministers are lugging around, or I can have a little idle chit chat with a priest. That’s bound to be more interesting, and it will at least keep the ministers from saying that I refuse to listen to advice.”

So he summoned the priest. Master of the Clouds entered the palace, strolled across the bridge and into the court, carrying his flower basket in one hand and his Daoist dust whisk in the other. The dust whisk is basically a short stick with long flowing horse hair attached at one end. Every self-respecting Daoist priest carries one. As he entered the court, Master of the Clouds did not kneel, but merely gave a light bow and said, “Greetings, your majesty.”

Seeing that, King Zhou was instantly miffed. “I’m the king. I reign over the four seas,” he thought to himself. “All under heaven are my vassals. You may be a man of religion, but you also reside within my territory. What disrespect! I should punish you, but then the ministers would chide me for being intolerant. Fine. I’ll see what he has to say first.”

So King Zhou asked Master of the Clouds where he came from, and the priest replied, “I came from the clouds and rivers.”

“What do you mean, clouds and rivers?” the king asked.

“My heart is as free as the white clouds, and my mind flows like water,” was the priest’s answer.

Now, for all his faults, King Zhou was actually a pretty smart guy, so he asked, “But where would you go back to when the clouds disperse and the rivers dry up?”

“When the clouds disperse, a bright moon hangs in the sky. When the rivers dry up, a shiny pearl appears.”

That answer turned the king’s rage into happiness, and he exclaimed with joy, “At first I was rather displeased with the way you greeted me, but from your answers, I can see that you are a great and wise sage.”

The king then offered Master of the Clouds a seat, and the priest did not stand on ceremony. He plopped himself down, and then he and the king shot the breeze some more about this and that point of Daoist trivia, which I will not bore you with. The king then asked where he lived and what he was doing here.

 “I live in the Jade Column Cave on the Southern Tip Mountain. My name is Master of the Clouds,” the priest told him. “I was out collecting herbs on the mountain when I saw demonic emanations coming from the palace. I have always felt compassion toward your majesty and your people, so I have come to rid you of the demon.”

The king laughed and said, “The palace isn’t some wild mountain or forest. The security here is water-tight. How could there be a demon? Master, you must be mistaken!”

Master of the Clouds smiled and said, “If your majesty knew there was a demon, then the demon naturally would not dare to approach. But your majesty doesn’t recognize this demon, and it’s taking advantage of the opportunity. If it is allowed to remain for long, it will become a scourge. I have composed a poem about this:

“She is bewitching and fresh,

But she saps your spirit, devours  your flesh.

If you detect her before it’s too late,

You’ll save countless souls from a miserable fate.”

The king asked the priest what he could use to tame the demon. Master of the Clouds opened his basket and took out the pine branch sword he had fashioned. He held it up and said to the king, “Your majesty doesn’t know the power of this sword, so allow me to explain. It has magical properties. Even though it emits no light that penetrates the sky, it can turn any demon to ashes within three days.”

He then handed the sword to the king and said, “Hang this before the Central Palace Tower and watch it do its work within three days.”

The king ordered his attendant to do as the priest instructed. He then turned to Master of the Clouds and said, “Master, you have such amazing powers. Why not leave your mountain dwelling and serve me. You would receive rank and wealth and be remembered for all posterity. Would that not be a good thing? Why return to living in poverty and anonymity?”

But Master of the Clouds replied, “I am grateful for your offer, but I am a lazy man of the wild and know nothing of the ways of governing. I sleep until the sun is high in the sky and then traipse around the mountainside naked and barefoot.”

“What’s so great about that?” King Zhou said. “How can it compare to wearing fancy clothes and having a good wife and lots of children, and living in luxury for the rest of your life?”

“Ah, but my life has its own rewards,” the priest said. “My body is light and my heart is free. I fight with no one and know no tricks. I ignore politics, preferring to spend my days growing leeks. I never wear satin robes or jade-studded belts, and have no intention of serving as a minister. I will never stroke the beard of the prime minister or kneel before the throne of a king. I have no desire for wealth or glory for my descendants. I prefer to live in a small cave and wear old, worn-out clothes. I never inquire about the emperor of heaven, earth, or men. I dream only of being invited to the Feast of Immortal Peaches held in paradise or taking a mid-afternoon nap in the mountains. I don’t care about the sun setting in the west or the bright moon rising in the east.”

Thus rebuffed, the king sighed in lament and said, “From your words, I can tell you are truly a man of purity and quiet.” He then told his attendant to bring out a tray of gold and a tray of silver to thank the priest. But Master of the Clouds laughed and said, “Your majesty is very kind, but I have no use for such things. In fact, listen to my poem:

“I forsake the dusty world, leave my lot to destiny,

Like rivers and clouds my heart ever roams free.

A sword, a walking stick, a lute, and sutras,

To pass the hours, these are all I need.

With herbs the old and sick I treat,

New poems in my mind I chant to those I meet.

My elixir adds to my years,

More precious than all the gold in this poor world.”

And with that, he strolled out of the hall, bowed again, and casually walked out of the palace with his long sleeves swinging. 

All the ministers were like, oh thank god, finally! It was no easy thing to get their negligent king to come to court, and they had been waiting to discuss important matters of state with him before this random priest showed up and ate up all the king’s time. And now he was finally gone and the ministers were just about to bring their issues to the king. But by now King Zhou was like, yeah that’s enough work for me today. He got up and headed back to his private palace and ordered the officials to adjourn, and they had no choice but to obey.

When King Zhou returned to the Palace of Fairy Longevity, he was not greeted by Daji, which made him restless. He asked the attendants where she was, and they told him that she had suddenly fallen ill and was laid up in bed semi-unconscious. He hurried to her bedside and saw that her face was yellow and her lips were white. She seemed to be barely breathing.

“My love, you were like a flower when I left you this morning,” the king said. “How did you get so sick so quickly?! What should I do?!”

So, as you may have guessed, this sudden malady was the doing of the pine branch sword that Master of the Clouds had left. Daji barely opened her eyes, parted her lips, and let out a faint groan. 

“Your majesty, after you went to court, I was waiting for you around noon. But when I walked past the Central Palace Tower, I looked up and saw a sword hanging high above. That frightened me and I was covered in cold sweat. That’s why I have fallen ill. I have such a poor lot in life. I am not destined to serve you and enjoy our love for long. I hope you will take care of yourself and not get hung up on me.”

As she spoke, tears rolled down her cheeks, and King Zhou was so stunned that he could not speak for a good while. And then, he said with tears in his eyes as well, “I was muddleheaded for a moment and was led astray by some priest. That sword was presented by Master of the Clouds from the Southern Tip Mountain. He said there were demonic emanations coming from the palace and that the sword would tame the demon. Who knew he was trying to harm you? Come to think of it, how could there be demons in a place as well protected as the inner palace? That priest has deceived me.”

He then told his attendants to take down that wooden sword and burn it. Now! He then spent the rest of the night consoling his lover. And sure enough, as soon as the sword disintegrated in the fire, Daji regained her strength. So much for that intervention.

To see what this fox demon will do now that she’s recovered, tune into the next episode of the Chinese Lore Podcast. Thanks for listening!

Music in This Episode

• “Sao Meo” by Doug Maxwell / Zac Zinger
• “Dark Toys” by SYBS (from YouTube audio library)
• “Ravines” by Elphnt (from YouTube audio library)
• “The Quiet Aftermath by Sir Cubworth (from YouTube audio library)
• “Day of Recon” by Max Surla/Media Right Productions (from YouTube audio library)