冥報記 3.9

3.9

At the beginning of the Kaihuang era of the Sui, in an outlying district of Jizhou, there was a young boy aged thirteen who constantly stole his neighbor's chicken eggs, roasted them, and ate them. Later, early in the morning before the villagers had arisen, his father heard someone knocking on the outer door and calling the boy's name. The father told the boy to go out and answer it. He saw a man who said, 'The authorities summon you for corvée.' The boy said, 'If you summon me for corvée, let me go inside to fetch clothes and provisions.' The messenger said, 'There is no need.' He then led the boy out through the village gate. South of the village were formerly mulberry fields, which had been plowed but not yet sown. This morning, the boy suddenly saw that by the road there was a small city, with gate towers on all four sides, painted in red and white very beautifully. The boy marveled, 'When was this built?' The messenger scolded him and made him keep silent. He then led him to the north gate of the city and ordered the boy to enter first. As the boy stepped through, the city gate suddenly shut. Not a single person was to be seen; it was only an empty city, and the ground was entirely burning ash and fragmented fire, barely deep enough to submerge one's ankles. The boy cried out in panic and ran toward the south gate, but just as he approached, it shut. He ran to the east, west, and north gates as well, and all were like this: before he arrived they were open, but as soon as he reached them, they closed. At that time, villagers went out to the fields, and all—men and women, young and old—saw this boy running wildly in all four directions in the plowed fields, making sounds like weeping. They all said to one another, 'Is this boy mad? Ever since he came here, he has been playing without rest.' When it was time for breakfast, the mulberry pickers all returned. The boy's father asked, 'Have you seen my boy?' The mulberry pickers replied, 'He is running and playing south of the village; when we called him, he refused to come.' The father went out of the village and saw from afar his boy running. He called his name loudly, and at the single shout, the boy stopped. The city and ashes suddenly disappeared. Seeing his father, he collapsed, weeping and unable to speak. The father looked at his feet: from mid-calf upward, the flesh and blood were scorched dry, and below his knees, they were festered and rotten as if roasted. He carried him home and nursed him; the flesh of his thighs returned to normal, but below his knees they ultimately became withered bones. When the neighbors heard of this, they went together to look at the place where he had run; the footprints were clear, with no ash or fire whatsoever. Thereupon the people of the district, men and women, young and old, all upheld the precepts and practiced spiritual purification. (The monk of great virtue Daohui, originally a native of Jizhou, related this to me; this was in his neighboring district.)