Chapter Forty-One: The Precious Mirror

“So the Master is acquainted with this fiend?”

“I have never seen it with my own eyes,” the monk replied, “but I have read of it in books. Therefore, I dare not be certain.”

“Then what exactly is a Rakshasa? Master, could you explain it to us in detail?”

Seeing the anticipation on the faces of the two men, the monk Huimin finally set aside his scripture and said, “‘Rakshasa’ comes from the Sanskrit language; it is also known as ‘Rakshasa’. The earliest records of the Rakshasa in the Central Plains appear in the ‘Definitions of Huin’ by the eminent monk Huilin of the Liu Song dynasty. In his book, it is written: ‘Rakshasa, which means evil spirit. They are of two kinds, male and female. The males are hideous, with black skin, red hair, and green eyes, their appearance terrifying; the females are beautiful and can enchant people. Whether male or female, they feed on human flesh and blood, moving either through the air or on the ground, swift and fearsome.’”

When these words were spoken, the two men, Cui and Xie, stared in astonishment, for the description of the male Rakshasa was precisely the same as the fiendish apparition described by the complainant.

Cui Shen could not help but speak, “After hearing Master’s words, I believe it is almost certain that the fiend is a Rakshasa. Since the books record such creatures, do they also mention any way to deal with them?”

Huimin, however, shook his head. “Amitabha. They do not, or perhaps they do, but I have not come across it. Forgive this old monk for his ignorance.”

Knowing that Huimin had no reason to lie, the two men felt their hopes dashed yet again. After bidding the monk farewell, they hurried away. But not long after their departure, the black cat on Huimin’s lap began scratching gently at his leg with its paw.

Huimin looked down and asked in a measured tone, “Moxin, what are you trying to tell me?”

The black cat raised its head and gazed into the monk’s eyes with its gemstone-green stare, its mouth opening slightly with a soft, “Meow—” Then it rubbed its head against Huimin’s leg and kept peering in the direction of the inner chamber, as if pointing something out.

“What are you trying to say?” the monk asked. At that moment, a strange scene occurred—the black cat stood upright on its hind legs, mimicking a human, and used its front paws to draw a half-circle in the air, then closing them together to form a complete circle.

Huimin was astonished. “Are you trying to show me a mirror?”

“Meow!” the cat replied emphatically, nodding its head.

Huimin was not at all surprised by Moxin’s unusual display. Instead, he seemed suddenly to understand, slapping his own forehead. “Ah! See how forgetful I’ve become in my old age! So many things slip my mind!”

At that moment, Cui and Xie had just left Cong’an Temple when a young novice came running after them, calling them back at the request of Master Huimin. Though puzzled, they had no choice but to return to the monk’s quarters. There, Huimin stood at the door to greet them, an apologetic smile on his face.

Cui Shen inquired, “Master, what is the reason for this?”

Huimin pressed his palms together. “Amitabha. Earlier, you asked if I had any way to deal with the Rakshasa. I replied I did not, but that was a lie caused by forgetfulness. I have called you back to make amends.”

Cui Shen was overjoyed. “Then Master, do you have a method to deal with the Rakshasa after all?”

Huimin smiled, then fetched a wooden box and placed it before them. Lifting the lid, Cui and Xie peered inside and saw an ancient mirror. The mirror’s appearance was extraordinary, with a diameter of more than eight inches. Its handle was carved into a crouching qilin, the four corners of the mirror adorned with dragon, tiger, phoenix, and tortoise, corresponding to the Eight Trigrams, beyond which were the twelve zodiac animals. Encircling these were twenty-four tiny characters that, though as precise as clerical script, were not of any recognizable writing.

Judging by its appearance alone, Cui and Xie felt certain this was no ordinary object, though they knew nothing of its origins. They turned to Huimin. “Master, what is the story behind this mirror?”

Huimin smiled. “The story of this mirror is a long one. It is ancient and once belonged to Wang Du of Taiyuan. If you have read Wang Du’s ‘Records of Ancient Mirrors,’ you may recognize it.”

Cui Shen pondered. “I know of Wang Du and have heard a little about his writings, but not in detail.”

Wang Du was a member of the Wang family of Taiyuan, once serving as the magistrate of Rui County during the Sui dynasty, known as the Lord of Rui. He had died early in the reign of Emperor Gaozu. Cui knew of him not for his own fame, but for his brother Wang Ji.

Wang Ji was a man of great talent who excelled in Daoist philosophy. Disdaining officialdom and fond of wine, he penned the celebrated ‘Biography of Master Five Pecks,’ writing: “There is a man named Master Five Pecks, who roams the world by the virtue of wine. No matter who invites him, high or low, he goes; once there, he must drink to drunkenness, and where he falls, there he sleeps, only to rise and drink again. He can drink five pecks at a sitting, hence the name. He is free from worry, sparing of words, ignorant of virtue and vice in the world. He comes and goes as he pleases, moving like the heavens, resting like the earth, and is untouched by worldly matters. He once said, ‘The world can be seen as it is. Why cling to life, as Ji Kang wrote? Why despair at the road’s end, as Ruan Ji did? Thus, the sage dwells in tranquil silence, following his will, caring not where he goes.’”

But to return to the point—though Wang Du was less famous than his brother Wang Ji in the early Tang, it was no wonder Cui had not read his works.

Xie Qiao, however, was surprised. “Master, is this the very treasure mirror of Lord Wang, the one that could subdue demons?”

Huimin smiled. “Indeed, this is the mirror.”

Cui Shen was astonished. “Is it truly so powerful?”

“If you doubt it, come with me,” Huimin invited, closing the box and turning into the inner chamber. Cui and Xie followed. Once inside, Huimin shut the door and windows, plunging the room into darkness. He opened the box again, and immediately a beam of light shone forth, bright as moonlight, illuminating the entire chamber.

Cui and Xie gaped in amazement, while Huimin explained, “Though this mirror cannot rival the sun and moon, it can absorb their essence. Legend has it that the Yellow Emperor forged fifteen of these mirrors according to the full-moon method; this is the eighth. Its power is not to be underestimated! In the Northern Wei, it belonged first to Su Chuo, later passed by Marquis Sheng to Wang Du. In the ninth year of the Daye era, my master, having heard of its presence in the Wang family, visited under the pretense of alms to see it for himself. The Wang brothers used this mirror to vanquish many demons. The mirror is full of spiritual energy and can choose its own master. By chance, it came into my possession. Alas, I have spent my life in vegetarian contemplation, never once putting it to use. When you came earlier, I had even forgotten it existed. How shameful!”

With that, Huimin closed the box and handed it to Cui Shen. “I now lend this mirror to you, Magistrate Xie. If you are fated for it, it may well become yours. May you use it to destroy the Rakshasa and bring peace to the people.”

Cui Shen carefully received the box, bowing repeatedly in gratitude. He then took the mirror and, together with Xie Qiao, left Cong’an Temple.

Back at the county office, Cui Shen was elated. “With this ancient mirror, at last we can rid the people of this scourge!” But turning, he noticed Xie Qiao’s troubled look. “Ziping, do you have any objections?”

Xie Qiao replied, “My lord, though we now have this treasure, our greatest difficulty remains: how to find the Rakshasa. Without that, we are powerless.”

Cui Shen’s expression changed. “Ah, in my excitement, I quite forgot! Here’s what we’ll do: I’ll have notices posted throughout the city, warning the people of recent fiendish activity, urging them to remain alert at night and cooperate with the authorities. I’ll also divide the constables into rotating patrols to keep watch over the city. If the Rakshasa enters a household, the first cry for help will bring our men, and one will come to notify us. We will bring the mirror and hurry there, thus tracking the Rakshasa!”

“That is a sound strategy, my lord, but there is one flaw.”

“What flaw?”

“You must not mention the fiend in the notice, or panic will sweep the city.”

“Quite right. What do you suggest?”

“Simply say that thieves have been seen in the city. That will prompt people to guard their homes, achieving the same effect.”

“Excellent suggestion. We’ll do as you propose.”

With their plan settled, Xie Qiao began to draft the notice. He had nearly finished when an old servant from the Xie household arrived to report a visitor.

Xie Qiao set down his brush. “Who is it?”

“A lady, sir—strikingly beautiful, but unknown to me.”

“Could she be at the wrong house?” Xie Qiao was surprised. Since his wife Liu Qian had disappeared, only this old servant handled his daily affairs, and he lived alone—he remembered no such acquaintance.

“Not at all, sir. The lady asked for you by name, saying she had urgent business.”

Since the visitor was already at his house, Xie Qiao could not linger at the office. He hastily finished the notice and returned home with the servant. As he neared the courtyard, he heard a woman reciting poetry within. Though she spoke softly, her voice was clear and sweet.

Listening closely, Xie Qiao’s thoughts wandered until the servant woke him with a gentle prompt, “Sir, the lady is reading your poems. I’ve often heard you recite them.”

Xie Qiao’s eyes clouded with sorrow. “Those are not mine, but Qian-niang’s. I paired each of her poems with a painting. The lady must be looking at the ones on the wall.”

Master and servant entered the courtyard, and Xie Qiao stepped into the house. The walls were covered with his paintings, mainly landscapes. Before one that hung directly opposite the door stood a tall woman, engrossed in the bold calligraphy of the poem. When she finished, she paused and sighed softly, “The painting captures the scene, the poem the feeling. It is written with such delicacy—truly beautiful! I never read this in the ‘Three Hundred Tang Poems,’ but to me, it is a lost gem.”

Xie Qiao could not help but clear his throat. “Miss, what is the ‘Three Hundred Tang Poems’ you speak of?”

“You don’t even know the ‘Three Hundred Tang Poems’? Where is your learning?” the lady replied with a laugh, then, suddenly realizing herself, turned around in a fluster. “I—I’m sorry! I was simply captivated by the art and poetry. I meant no offense!”

At that moment, Xie Qiao finally saw her face, and a memory flashed before his eyes like lightning. In Green Peak Village, under the torchlight, a girl in a jeweled headdress had glanced back at him. That frightened yet lovely face from his past now stood before him, fresh and unadorned, yet more striking than ever. He could not help but exclaim, “It’s you?”