Dinner Revelations

Chapter 8

Plenty of fish, rice, greens and hot tea afforded everyone the opportunity to eat their fill
and then some. This was especially true of Dr. Hun. Though small in stature, she easily
ate more than twice that of any single guest at the table so that by the time Mi offered
Huli a pipe and Indian tobacco, Dr. Hun’s eyes were already showing the signs of the
sleep only brought on by a full stomach.

“Master Huli,” began San Jip, “tell us of the missing tomb of Qian.”

“Come now Jip,” Huli smiled as he tapped out some loosened tobacco from the bowl
before filling it afresh. “Surely you do not believe the tales of mysterious hidden tombs
and legends kept only to scare children do you?”

Dr. Hun’s eye’s suddenly popped wide and began to sparkle. “What missing tomb? You
never told me anything about a missing tomb. Surely we would all like to here this
mystery as it will give us something to dream and perhaps the gods will show us the
secret this very night.”

Huli rolled his eyes and took several long puffs as he lit the well packed bowl. The
aroma of the burning tobacco smelled small cottage with the scent of sweet violets. Huli
leaned back in the chair leaving two legs on the swept dirt floor and two suspended in air
while he crossed his feet on the edge of the table.

“Well,” said Huli taking a long slow puff on the pipe and slowly letting it curl from his
lip as he exhaled. “Where shall I begin… for the ending is nothing without the beginning
and the beginning was so long ago, who could tell if it is true?”

“Huli, you beast! Don’t tease us so,” demanded Helen. “Get to the story for I shall
surely burst with anticipation if you do not!”

“As I said, one must go to the beginning. I shall tell the tale as it was told to me and to
those before me for now nearly 1500 years has passed and secret remains to this day.”

“A young monk was traveling about the countryside seeking knowledge and serving
those who should be served as his masters had commanded. A day came when the young
monk found himself along the Jing River near the end of his day’s journey. He removed
his sandals and walked a short distance in the cooling water to ease the fatigue in his feet
and legs. Finding a spot of soft grass he determined to rest there for the night and as it
was summer he decided not to build a fire.”

“Master,” interrupted Mi Ling, “was the monk a handsome man?”

“What difference does that make?” chided San Jip.

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“It makes a difference to me,” replied Mi. “I want to be able to picture the whole story in
my mind. I would be much more interesting if he were handsome.”

“Very well,” Huli stopped Jip before he could say anything else. “The monk was
handsome as women would have regarded him, but he paid it no mind since he was doing
the work of the gods. Now shall I go on?”

“Please do,” said Mi, satisfied at the story’s turn.

“So, as I said, the monk found his place to rest for the night and quickly fell into a deep
sleep. As he awoke to the rising of the morning sun he heard voices nearby. It sounded
like several men discussing how they would cross the river. Apparently several of the
men had survived a terrible crossing of the Wei River some days before and most of their
rations of food had been swept away in the rushing waters along with several of their
companions. They had little desire to cross another river and were planning to go back
where they came from. The monk wisely kept his presence hidden from the men as he
wondered who they were and why they had made this journey.

Presently the monk heard a splashing sound coming from the water, just a few feet from
where he had slept.”

“I’ll bet this is some soldier about to sneak up on the monk, but the monk is too…” Jip
was about to finish when Huli put his finger to his lips indicating that he should be silent
and listen.

“As I was about to say…”

“…splashing should from just a few feet away. Thinking it might be a soldier or some
scout the monk inched slowly to the water to observe in secret. Much to his surprise, it
was no soldier, but a beautiful woman bathing in the river. The monk gasped at the sight
of the naked form before him. She was breath-taking with, what the monk surmised were
unusually large breasts for a Chinese woman.”

Mi Ling blushed as Huli spoke but both Dr. Hun and San Jip nodded in agreement as they
both knew part of the legend and that the woman was the Empress Wu Zetian.

“His gaze was transfixed upon her form, so much so that he did not realize that she had
seen him in the grass, staring at her. ‘For a monk, you do stare intently at the form of a
woman. Do you find me beautiful or a curiosity?’ The monks face turned as red as the
skin of a fresh apple. He quickly turned away. ‘Forgive me, for I did not expect to see
someone in the water,’ replied the monk. ‘Then why did you come to look? Did you
suppose a great fish was causing all the splashing or perhaps the gods were drinking of
the river?’ The woman stepped from the river, hands on her hips and walked up to the
monk, still as naked as before. ‘Very well monk take a good look for in a moment you
shall be telling of this encounter to the gods themselves because I will have my guards
remove your head.’

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“I cannot believe this,” mumbled Mi. “What kind of a monk is this; sneaking about to see
a strange woman naked?”

“You will recall,” Huli took another protracted puff of the pipe, “I did say the monk was
a young man, not a eunuch.”

With that Dr. Hun broke out laughing, slapping the side of her leg. “Even if he was a
eunuch, he was once a man and the Empress Wu Zetian was the most beautiful woman in
all of China. She was the wife of Gaozong a great military strategist and emperor. Had I
been the monk I would have starred too!” Again she broke into spasms of uncontrollable
laughter.

“I see you are ahead of my story,” Huli smiled as he watched Helen try to regain her
composure. “Still there is much more to tell, but yes she was indeed the Empress Wu
Zetian.”

“The monk paid little attention to the berating provided by the young empress as his
concentration was focused on a discussion from the other side of a small rise where her
guards were talking.”

‘I for one do not plan to take another river crossing with a chance to meet the gods this
very day. I think we should leave while we can less we be drawn to our deaths’ the voice
suggested.

‘You are a fool,’ another voice replied, ‘the empress will have our skin peeled from our
bones and then cut us into pieces for the birds.’

‘Not if we kill her first,’ the first voice replied.

‘We take her life and throw her in the river. We shall tell the emperor that she drowned
in the rushing current as did the others.’

“The monk could tell by the tone of the mumblings that this was indeed the course of
action to be taken and he would need haste to prevent it. While the empress was still
talking, the monk removed his cloak and with one swift gesture of his left hand he swung
it round over his head and covered them both. While with the other hand, he covered the
empress’ mouth and flung her to the ground beneath the spreading cape.”

“This part of the story could not be true,” interjected San Jip. “What man has ever been
successful in making a woman quiet, empress or not?” Then he laughed and slapped his
knee. Even Huli grinned at the thought, but continued the story just the same. Mi Ling
looked disgusted at the levity of these country men when speaking of an empress.

“As the two fell beneath the cloak, a mighty gust of wind blew and great amounts of
leaves and dirt and sticks all fell upon the cloak such that it appeared to be a spot of bare

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earth, a small mound and nothing more. As the men looked about to kill the empress
they found her clothes on the branch and quickly determined that she had been swept
down the river while bathing.

‘You can get off me now monk, I am sure they are gone,’ demanded the empress.

‘You must remain very still and quiet for I perceive they are still very near,’ the monk
replied.

‘Fine then, I am grateful and perceive you have very special skills as you have saved my
life and you will be rewarded. Still you could at least move you walking staff from
between us for it is poking a hole in my stomach,’ empress struggled to adjust.

‘My regrets empress,’ replied the monk, ‘but I have no such staff as it was lost several
days ago in a battle with a wild beast.’

‘Well the,’ replied the empress with a smile, ‘you have some very special skills indeed.’

The empress pulled the monk even closer. ‘Woman are you insane? If your guards hear
us we shall both face death!’ The empress looked at the monk without speaking for some
time. ‘Well,’ asked the monk? ‘Give me a moment,’ replied the empress, ‘I am
considering my options.’

As the last words were leaving the masters lips, clouded in a cool stream of pipe smoke,
he suddenly began to laugh at his own bawdy turn to the story and as a result tipped the
chair far enough back that he topped over and fell to the floor. Everyone burst out
laughing and laughed till tears streamed down their faces. Mi laughed just as hard as the
rest, remembering the kind of stories her father and grandfather would tell night upon
night.

Sprawled on the floor, Huli took a long slow puff from the pipe and sprang straightway to
his feet as if he were an acrobat in the circus. The howls of laughter were quickly cut off
at the sight of this remarkable feat. Not just because of his age, though that in itself was
remarkable, but at the agility that would normally be reserved for a professional acrobat
or perhaps a mastered martial arts specialist.

“Most remarkable…” commented Dr. Hun, her voice trailing off as she pondered the
master’s agility.

“Master, surely you must teach me this remarkable move” called Jip as he rose to his feet.

“Well,” began Huli, “it is not so remarkable.” He reached into his back pocket and
removed a sharpened piece of bamboo that he had often used as a toothpick and
occasionally as a needle. “Had you been stabbed in your backside as I was you probably
would have danced on the ceiling!” Huli held up the bamboo shard and all broke into

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laughter once again. That is all but Mi. She smiled coyly and considered this event very
carefully. The master was indeed very wise but perhaps more viral than the let on.

Huli rubbed the tip of the stick with his thumb as he took another puff, the glow of the
pipe now fading. He thought it fortunate that no one could see that the stick had not
pierced anything.

“Master,” called Mi, “please continue with your account of the meeting with the
empress.”

“Ah yes, as I was saying…hmmm, exactly where was I? I’m not as young as I used to be
and some of the details of the story seem to escape my recollection. Perhaps it is too late
for me. Dr. Hun, what time is it?”

“It is barely past nine. Surely you have the time to continue the story for we all long to
hear of the secret,” Dr. Hun pleaded as did the others.

“Very well Helen, since you insist, I will continue.”

“The empress and the monk lay still for what seemed an awfully long time to the monk
and no time at all to the empress, until the monk had determined the guards had left. The
monk threw back the cloak and once again there was the naked empress lying on the
grass, not moving staring up at the monk with a wry smile.

‘So monk,’ asked the empress, ‘now that you have seen me as few have seen me before,
and only one has lived, what are your last wishes?

‘Empress, you must take me for a fool. You are alone without food or knowledge of this
area. You could no more kill me than you could fly to the heavens and pluck a piece of
the sun’ the monk replied.

The empress rose, walked to where her clothing lie on the banks of the river and began to
dress.

‘For now you may be right monk,’ began the empress thinking ‘but, my husband shall
soon send troops to look for me and once he does, I shall end your life as the legends
have said I have ended others.’

‘I do not wish to seem impertinent, but I have seen your eyes and touched your flesh.
You are not the evil one of legends. You are the one who was taken as a child into the
palace of the emperor. You were terrorized by the mother of the emperor, who killed
your first child, a daughter and blamed you,’ the monk caught the gleam of a tear in her
eye as she thought of the murdered child.

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‘Monk, how would you know such things? Perhaps you are a sorcerer or witch
attempting to seduce me with your lies.’ The empress competed her dressing and pulled
her hair back in a tight knot. ‘What else do you think you know?’

‘I know that while you are called Wu Zetian your name is Wu Zhao. Those who are
closest to you call you Wu Mei or Wu Meiniang. As for me, I will call you Mei for you
are indeed pretty to look at and have a kind spirit.’ The monk turned and went to look for
the staff he had lied about to the empress. He had not lost it battling a beast, but had
rather tossed it aside at the time of his rest.

‘Monk,’ called Mei, ‘as you know more about me than I know about myself, I should
know your name.’

‘My name has been taken and given to the wind. Those who know me today know me as
Hualyi,’ the monk bent to pick up his staff.

‘Well Hualyi you are indeed very clever. Can you tell me of my future?’ asked Mei
walking toward Hualyi, hands on her hips.

‘Mei,’ replied Hualyi, ‘I am but a servant of all doing the work of a monk. The wind and
the earth tell me where to go, the gods tell me of the things I should know. They reveal
to me that I am to be your guide and protector till your emperor comes for you. They
have told me that he is ill and that those who scheme against you and the emperor will
claim you have given him poison…’

‘That is an outrageous statement,’ shouted Mei. ‘I had never known a man until Gaozong.
If I had, I would have been sent away to become a Buddhist nun. I have been his
companion and aid, mother to his murdered daughter and defender of house of Tang.’

‘This I do not doubt,’ replied Hualyi. ‘The emperor lies ill today because of a failure in
his heart. It is dimming his sight and taking his strength. Still there are evil men who
seek to end the rule of Tang and steal the riches and power of the emperor to do harm to
the people.’

‘Indeed you are wise and clever Hualyi, but if you indeed have knowledge from the gods,
tell me now, why am I come to this place?’ Mei had a stern look on her face, now
suspicious of the monk’s intentions.

‘You need not fear me Mei for I know why you are here. As I have said, the emperor
Tang Gaozong is not well and you have come to the resting place of his fathers to find a
place that he and one day you shall rest for eternity. I am to guide you to the Mount
Liagshan above the plain and there you will see where you shall find rest.’ The monk
turned and walked to the river. Not hearing the steps of Mei he turned to see her kneeling
on the ground, tears on her cheeks. ‘Why would you cry Mei?’

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‘I cry for the loss of my friend and father of my child. I cry for the heavy burden that I
carry. I cry for the people who should have opportunities to learn and prosper but I cry
most that I have no child to rule after Gaozong and there are those who now would kill
me as the guards would have done if not for you. Truly you are an agent of the gods and
I am not worthy to walk with you.’ Mei’s tears turned to sobs.

“But master,” Mi broke the train of the story with her question, “is Hualyi not the monk
spoken of in history as the one the empress consorted with after she was in her sixties?
Here she would barely be in her thirties. Does this not contradict the lessons we have
learned in school?”

“Hardly, it merely expands them,” continued Huli. “Your school lessons only tell of a
man, a monk whom she had an affair while in the palace. It does not speak of an
encounter or dalliance that may have occurred in her youth, which none knew about.”
Huli smiled and refilled the pipe with the rich tobacco, drawing deep as the leaves began
to glow.

“Well,” asked Mi as the others looked on with the same question, “how do you know if
no one else knew?”

“Obviously child,” Huli took a long slow draw on the pipe then expelled. “I was there of
course.”

After an uncomfortable pause, Mi, Jip and Helen all burst into laughter.

“Of course,” Jip shouted, “how else could you know? Ha Ha.”

Helen chimed in “You had us there. Why the story was almost as if you were there. We
were as children listening to our fathers. Ha Ha. Excellent story telling…Excellent”

Mi’s face had turned a mild shade of pink as she laughed. She felt quite foolish and
embarrassed at thinking somehow the story was about Huli. She was quite like a
schoolgirl in many ways, she thought.

“Well shall I go on, or have I lost the willing audience that I had?” questioned Huli.

“No, please” called Jip “finish the tale.”

“Very well. Hualyi turned back to Mei to comfort her.

‘Do not cry Mei. You are destined to have sons and you will live to an old age. Your life
will not be easy, but it will enrich the people of China and you will be remembered as a
great leader.’ Hualyi took her hand and helped her from her kneeling position. ‘I am no
god, only a man that the gods have smiled on for a time and in time this shall pass. Come
with me, for we have a long distance to travel, and the day is passing quickly.’

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Mie rose to walk with Hualyi and then suddenly turned running behind the mound,
beyond where they had hidden from the guards.

‘Help me Hualyi, help me find it,’ she cried. ‘I know it is here. It has to be’

‘What are you looking for Mei? The guards took all the provisions and other goods and
left nothing.’ Hualyi could see nothing there save the mark of the cold fire from the
previous night and discarded bones from the meal.

‘It is here, I hid it when we stopped.’ Mei was now moving some grass away from what
appeared to be a small hole in the side of the mound. As Hualyi looked on he could see a
small rough cloth bag. Something was in it, a box perhaps as long as a man’s arm from
the tip of his finger to the bend of his elbow.

‘What is so important that you must retrieve it now? We have a long distance to travel
and should not carry much with us as it will slow our journey.’ Hualyi was insistent and
practical as he knew how long and strenuous the trek would be.

‘I must take it,’ Mei exclaimed. ‘It is my daughter!’

Mei opened the rough cloth bag and removed an ornate box, one the likes of which
Hualyi had never seen. The box was covered with gold, its lid encrusted with hundreds
of jewels. The sides were engraved with the images of dragons with wings, each holding
a great pearl in its mouth. The ends had silver handles wrapped in a golden thread. Mei
carefully lifted the box by the handles and set it on the ground before Hualyi.

‘Master Hualyi, bless this, the remains of my daughter who was murdered by the mother
of Gaozong. I have hid her near me till I might bring her to the place where we will
spend eternity in rest.’ Then she bowed, face to the ground before Hualyi and wept.

‘Rise Mei, for the gods will bless this love you have for your daughter and I will carry
her on her journey to live with the gods.’ With that Hualyi carefully picked up the tiny
coffin, place it in the cloth sack and led Mei across the Jing River.

“So Huli, where is the missing tomb? I believe now you will tell me that the tomb is that
of the murdered child, is that so?” questioned Helen.

“Indeed it is Helen. While the story has much more to tell, it is now late and we should
all be getting some rest. I will leave you with this however. The child was laid to rest
where both the empress and the emperor would one day lay, among the tombs of Qian.
No one has ever found the tomb of the child, though the empress would visit it several
times before her death and leave untold riches there. On her deathbed she would tell her
closest friend, who knew of the location that the child would be in her heart forever.”
And with that Huli rose, tapped the last embers from the pipe and stretched as a man
needing sleep after a long journey.

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“Wait,” Jip stood to his feet. “What about the lost tomb? Where is it?”

“I just told you,” replied Huli.

“What do you mean you just told us? All you said was the child was in her heart.
What’s that supposed to mean?” Jip was holding his arms out in dismay as he looked
about the room to see what the others thought.

“As you have said Jip that is the answer.” Huli bent to pick up the wooden box Dr. Hun
had brought. “Thank you Mi for a wonderful meal and conversation as well as the
wonderful tobacco. I must now leave you for I will rest in the temple after prayers. I will
see you all early.” Huli, turned, opened the door and turned back for one last look at his
audience, clearly tired from a long day. “I am surprised none of you have asked how I
know the tomb is still lost and the treasure in it.”

“So how do you know?” questioned Mi.

“Because I have not gone back to retrieve it,” replied Huli and he closed the door behind
him.

Huli stepped out into the night, barely lit by a quarter moon and waited for his eyes to
adjust. He smiled to himself as he recalled just how beautiful Mei was even as an older
woman. Though they had been apart for decades at a time, their love never waned and
when they saw each other it was as though only a few moments had passed.

It was not until Mei was in her sixties that anyone realized the visits by the monk were
anything other than religious in nature. By that time Mei had enough power and sense
that she didn’t care what they thought. Huli always wondered why she had never asked
about his seemingly ageless appearance. If fact, now that Huli thought about it, he never
really noticed her getting old either, they saw each other through the eyes of love and in
that there is no age.

In her old age the empress often gave the monk lavish gifts that some assumed were
given because he was her lover. No one ever knew the gifts were given in thanks for well
placed advice about how the people really felt and in gratitude for their son, whom all
believed was the son of Tang Gaozong. Li Zhi would one day become emperor and his
mother would jealously protect him till she died.

Huli walked carefully though the gate in the temple wall, past the tiny rooms reserved for
monks and into the prayer chamber. Gently he placed the wooden box in front of him.
The box seemed familiar and yet foreign. There was something wrong with the box that
he could not quite put his finger on. The wood was the same; the carving was the same,
the wood and its age, all the same. Yet, something was wrong.

Huli walked from the prayer room back to his chamber and retrieved his staff. Sitting on
the floor, next to the box he began to turn the top of his staff, till after some work, it

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separated from the wooden rod revealing a center of iron and a curious depression within
the wood itself. Huli took the edge of his finger and pulled out an exceeding thin strand
of metal, silver in color, but not silver because it was much stronger. Holding the thread
between both hands, he gently slid the wire up and down the sides of the box. He did this
several times from all directions until he heard a faint ‘click’ somewhere inside the box.
Without lifting the lid he twisted the top of the box to the left and bottom to the right. As
he did so a small compartment opened in the base. Small enough for a small piece of
fruit, but there was no fruit inside.

Instead, there was a small yellow gemstone, no larger than a man’s thumb, round and
smooth without mark or flaw. As Huli turned it in his hand it seemed to grow warm and
emit a slight glow. As if it has spoken to him, Huli knew what the stone was. It was the
eye of Fucanlong, the dragon that guarded the underworld of gems and precious metals.
The monks had told him of the stone and that it permitted the bearer to see other places
and times.

Of course up to this point the eye was only legend. Huli wondered how it worked. First
he rubbed it till his hands grew raw, but nothing happened. Then he held it before his
eyes and stared into it supposing some image would come to view within the stone, but
nothing happened with that either. Hours past as Huli prayed to the stone, shouted at the
stone, licked the stone and tried all manner and methods to have the stone yield it’s
secrets. Still nothing. Exhausted, Huli held the stone in his right hand. “Perhaps you are
nothing more than a stone,” he said and leaned back, resting his left hand on the wooden
box.

Incredibly, at that instant the whole room lit up as though it were daylight. The images
all about him were of a city. Towering buildings surrounded him, automobiles moving
about him and through him, people in western dress hurrying about. In the center of the
image was a yellow car with the word “TAXI” written on the side and a woman about to
get into the vehicle. The woman was small, elderly but very fit. Under one arm was a
purse and under the other was a wooden box. A box that was identical to the one sitting
next to Huli. As she was getting into the cab, a man in an apron came out and gave her a
kiss then waived goodbye. There was a watch on his wrist with the time 12:05. Huli
surmised that the time was 12:05 in China, but it was night here and day there. So it was
somewhere in the western hemisphere. But where? As the cab pulled away he could see
a sign on the top of the vehicle “Order your tickets for the Rockefeller Center Christmas
Show.” The box was in New York City, in the United States. He needed to go there as
soon as possible.

The image faded, but another one appeared in its place. But not quite appearing as it was
a shadow like figure with hollow eyes. It spoke, and thought it could not be heard
audibly, Huli heard the words in his head.

“I am waiting for you Huli….waiting.”

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