Trading poems and lyrics back and forth, the fisherman and the woodcutter came to the fork in the road and bowed their farewells. The fisherman said, “Brother Li! Safe travels home. Watch out for tigers in those mountains. If you run into some such danger, I will miss you on this road tomorrow.”
The woodcutter was furious. “Why do you curse me with such talk?1 If I truly meet a tiger, then may a wave overturn your boat!”
“My boat will never flip,” the fisherman said.
“The heavens have unpredictable weather, and men meet unexpected fortunes. How can you be so sure?” the woodcutter wanted to know.
The fisherman said, “Brother Li, judging by your words, you have not the understanding that I do of my business. There is no possibility that I will meet such a disaster.”
The woodcutter said, “There must be danger, making your living on the water. What understanding are you talking about?”
“Then you don’t know,” the fisherman said. “Here in Chang’an, on the West Gate Road, there is a fortuneteller. Every day I give him a golden carp, and in exchange he pulls a fortune from his sleeve. I place my nets where he tells me and in a hundred times he’s not missed once. Today I again went to buy my fortune, and he told me if I set my nets at the east side of the Jing River bend and my line at the west bank, my nets will surely be full of fish and shrimp. Tomorrow when I come into town to sell fish and buy wine, I will chat with you2 some more.”
And thus the two parted.
As these two were talking on the road, someone was listening hidden in the grass. Turns out it was a yaksha of the Jing River on patrol. Hearing the fisherman say that “in hundred times he’s not missed once,” he returned to the Dragon Palace as quickly as he could and reported to the Dragon King: “Trouble! Trouble!”
“What is the trouble?” the Dragon King asked.
The yaksha said, “As your servant was patrolling on the riverbank, I heard a fisherman and a woodcutter talking, and as they were parting, I heard a terrible thing. The woodcutter said that on West Gate Road, inside Chang’an, there’s a fortunetelling gentleman who is extremely accurate. Every day he gives the fortuneteller a carp, and the fortuneteller tells him a hundred times out of a hundred where to fill his nets. If he can calculate with such accuracy, won’t he be able to catch as much of the waterfolk as he likes? Why would anyone pray to your Majesty then for safety on the waters?”
The Dragon King was furious, and picked up his sword to go to Chang’an to exterminate this fortuneteller. The dragon children and grandchildren, the shrimp generals and crab admirals, the shad counselors, perch officials, and carp governors all came forth and said, “Don’t be angry, your Majesty. It’s commonly said words overheard cannot be trusted. If you go, you will bring a storm of cloud and rain and you may startle the people of Chang’an and be reproached by Heaven. Your Majesty has the ability to go about undetected and take other forms. Why don’t you turn into a learned scholar and go to Chang’an and look around If indeed there is such a person, there is still time to eliminate him. If such a person does not exist, won’t you have harmed an innocent man?”
The Dragon King saw the wisdom of this advice, and set down his sword. He emerged onto the riverbank and, with a shake, turned into a white-robed scholar, charming and with a hero’s air. He walked with a righteous gait, and the words of Confucius and Mencius fell from his lips. He wore a jade-colored gauze over-robe. On his head he wore a flowing headscarf. He followed the path to the West Gate Road of Chang’an. He saw a noisy crowd crammed shoulder to shoulder. From the middle of the crowd someone was calling in a loud voice: “Those born under the Dragon will clash with those born under the Tiger… “ Hearing this, the Dragon King knew that this was the fortuneteller. He parted the crowd and saw:
The four walls of the shop hung with beads and silks; the air of the shop hazy with incense; porcelain vases full of clear water. On either side hung paintings by Wang Wei; above the seat hung the form of Guigu. On one side of a white-haired writing brush was a Duan inkstone;3 on its other side a gilded inkstick. Crystal balls and Guo Pu’s numerals faced a stand of esoteric tomes. The fortuneteller was well versed in the hexagrams and the eight trigrams. He could understand the logic of the universe and commune with spirits. The rhythm of the afternoon was in his tray, the order of the stars filled his mind. The future things, the past things, he saw as clearly as in a mirror. Triumphs and disappointments he knew as well as the gods. Of luck and catastrophe he was certain. Men lived and died as he spoke; wind blew and rain fell at his words. Spirits and gods heeded the words of his pen.
The sign outside his shop stated his name as Yuan Shoucheng, the uncle of the chief astronomer of the imperial court, Yuan Tiangang. The gentleman was unusually elegant of appearance. His name was known throughout the nation and his art the highest in all Chang’an.
The dragon king entered and met the gentleman. After paying his respects, the gentleman invited the dragon to take a seat. A servant boy served tea, and the man asked: “What has master come to ask of me?”
The dragon king replied, “Please divine for me how the weather will be.”
The gentleman pulled a fortune strip from his sleeve and snapped it, saying, “Clouds will gather on the mountaintop. Fog will cover the trees. Rain will fall in the morning.”
“When will it rain tomorrow?” the Dragon King asked. “How much rain?”
“Tomorrow between 7 and 9 am the clouds will spread,” the gentleman replied. “Then it will thunder. The rain will fall between 11 and 2, a total of 3 feet 3.48 inches.”
The dragon king laughed. “Your prediction is impossible. If tomorrow, it truly rains as you have said, I will give you 50 taels of gold. If it doesn’t rain, or if the amount or time differs from what you have said, I will be honest with you, I will tear down your shop and run you out of Chang’an so you can no longer peddle your lies!”
The gentleman replied gladly, “That would be your right. I look forward to our meeting after the rain.”
The Dragon King bid his farewell and left Chang’an and returned to his underwater palace. The water folk great and small received him, asking, “How did your interview with that fortuneteller go? Did you find him?”
The Dragon King said, “I did indeed! I asked him to predict exactly when and how much it would rain tomorrow, and we made a bet. If his prediction is accurate, I would gift him fifty taels of gold, but if he is wrong by even a little, I would tear down his shop and run him out of town.”
The water folk laughed and said, “Your majesty is the ruler of the Eight Rivers, the great dragon that governs the rains. Rain or no rain, only your majesty knows. How dare he speak such nonsense! That fortuneteller has lost for sure!”
As those dragon princes and carp and crab ministers were laughing and talking, there came a voice from midair which said, “Dragon King of the Jing River, receive this edict.”
The crowd looked up and saw a messenger in gold clothing bearing an edict from the Jade Emperor in his upraised hand coming toward the palace. The Dragon King hurriedly straightened his clothing, lit the incense4 and received the edict.
Having delivered the edict, the messenger returned to the skies. The Dragon King opened the decree and it said, “An imperial order for the governor of the Eight Rivers to release rain upon the city of Chang’an tomorrow morning.” The times and amount of rain listed on the decree matched to the letter5 the prediction of the fortunetelling gentleman. Seeing this, the Dragon King fainted from fright. After a short while, he came to and said to his court, “There really are people on this mortal earth who are able to penetrate the working of heaven and earth! How can I lose to him?”
A shad counselor replied, “Your majesty, don’t worry. There is no real difficulty. I have an idea that can teach that fortuneteller a thing or two. If the amount of rain is off by even a few drops, that fellow’s prediction will have been inaccurate. How can you not win? Then you can tear down his shop and run him out of the city.”
Hearing this advice, the dragon king ceased to worry.
1 Chinese people are superstitious and believe that talking about misfortune can bring misfortune. It’s called 乌鸦嘴, or crow’s mouth. ↩
2 my old brother ↩
3 A flat stone upon which ink is ground. Duan inkstones have been been around since the Tang Dynasty, and have apparently been famous for their quality since! ↩
4 underwater? ↩
5 lit. in Chinese “to the hair” ↩
Etymology Adventures 