10 Qiangyin

During the Qing Dynasty, there a blind Buddhist monk by the name of Qiangyin 强音 who recently finished his education at a local temple and was seeking tutelage elsewhere. Qiangyin wandered through the wilderness alone, resting only when the Jade Rabbit moon ascended through the skies. After many days of wandering, Qiangyin immediately recognized the way the noises of the day fell into a deep silence. At this time, a chilly breeze also meandered its way through the dense forest, confirming the arrival of dusk. As he had not fully exited the forest, he made haste. However, the trees clustered closer together, barely allowing the monk room to weave through. But as a master of bodily awareness, a result of a lifetime of disability, Qiangyin easily slipped past the thicket.

Finally, as the cold of the night began to burn, Qiangyin sensed that he had left the forest. With a few cautious steps, he found himself at the entrance of a building. The remote nature of the building led him to assume that it was a temple. Eager to find a new temple to continue his education, Qiangyin called out to the monks of the temple. But he heard no response, only the continuous winnowing of the wind streaming through the entryway. Although he did not hear a response, he still required a host for the night, and with a bow, he entered the temple, closing the shuttered door behind him.

With every slow step the monk took, the hard floor responded. This single rhythm became soothing to Qiangyin as he let them guide him through the temple. But then, another sound coupled the sound of his footsteps. When Qiangyin took a step, another step rung out through the vacant temple. Qiangyin was confused and frightened by the duplicity of steps, but he knew that his ears would never fail him. Through his time as a wandering cleric, Qiangyin had become accustomed to the spirits of the night, and so he very quickly realized he was confronted with a jiangshi 殭屍. His heartbeat began to clang against his chest, clogging his ears. However, Qiangyin refused to be quelled and began his defense.

Slowly, Qiangyin slipped off his slippers and drew out the bells that had been muffled by his sleeves. The crinkling of fur alerted him that the jiangshi was mimicking his movements. In one swift movement, Qiangyin began to dance, guiding his arms to whirl around him. In rhythm with his racing heart, his arms swung this way and that, ebbing and flowing as the tides did. His liquid movements let out a river of tinkling bell sounds, which elicited a shriek from the jiangshi. While elegantly waving his arms, Qiangyin began to step forward, first in tentative steps, and soon in a flurry of forward movement. The jiangshi frantically hopped away from the advancing monk, moaning in response to the painful bell sounds. Qiangyin feverishly chased the sound of the corpse’s wailing. Soon, the monk’s feet registered the softness of earthen ground, causing him to plant his feet in front of the exit. The bell song still played as Qiangyin swayed, guarding the exit. He registered the way his legs shook in trepidation but mustered all of his courage to not run from the monster pacing around the temple’s outside. He heard the jiangshi attempt to escape through the forest, but their fear of the knotted mess of thick roots and dense foliage foiled their attempt.

Soon, the earliest rays of warmth struck Qiangyin’s skin, and the monk smiled to himself as the shrieks of the jiangshi came to a pause. Only after the Golden Phoenix sun properly greeted the world with a blazing swelter did the monk fall to the ground, exhausted but satisfied. He rested against the damp soil for a few moments before registering the sound of morning chatter. Immediately, he rose to greet the newly awoken monks of the monastery with a fist-and-palm salute.

He heard a few greetings from the monks, and then their steps suddenly halted. With a knowing nod, Qiangyin spoke: “You must be seeing the stiff corpse I struggled with last night.”

The monks went silent, and after a few moments of quiet, a monk muttered softly, “That was the corpse we were supposed to recite the religious scriptures to today to release the soul of the deceased.”

Qiangyin then became furious at the monks, who were now shuffling around tensely, “Why did you wait to perform the rituals? Leaving a corpse unburied is cause for cursed reanimation!”

Qiangyin slipped his bells back into his sleeves and turned away from the monks, “I have nothing to learn from a monastery that does not properly look after its dead. Goodbye.”

With that, Qiangyin walked back into the forest, not looking back. The monks watched, entranced by the grace of his every step.