鐔津文集 8.7

8.7

In ancient times there was a dragon slayer named Zhu Pingman, who, misled by what he studied, was reduced to poverty in his day. It is unknown where Pingman came from. His nature was vigorous and firm; considering butchering a chicken or carving an ox insufficient to exhaust his valor, he thought to entrust himself to an extraordinary slaughter to satisfy his intellect. Therefore, exhausting a thousand pieces of gold in wealth, he studied under a master. After three years his study was complete (some texts say: his skill was complete), yet he had nowhere to employ his craft; ruggedly uncompromising in the world, he found nothing to give him credence. It happened that those who slit sheep and slaughtered dogs pranced proudly before him, while market folk pointed and laughed upon seeing him. Alas, Pingman has passed away! Across ten million years, having heard of his wind, I am moved within myself, and so write this text to express his story. The dragon is the essence of pure yang, the most spiritual among scaled creatures; having no fixed form, relying on the spirits and clouds, its transformations are unfathomable. Therefore, it is rarely glimpsed in the human world. Wishing to eliminate its monstrous nature, dispel its violence from rivers and seas, eradicate its physical life, and exterminate its kind—if one were not able to guide the blade through the spaces without thickness, how could intellect meet with spirit and the dragon be slaughtered? I once heard of a realm within the sea whose people are like clouds, riding the wind and mounting the sun, entering and leaving beyond heaven and earth, coming and going without a trace. They cut up dragon flesh to supply their sustenance; thus, slaying dragons is the business of those people. However, while dragon slaying was used in ancient times in their realm, now (in Pingman's day) it has perhaps vanished, almost ceased. Pingman's life and circumstances were different from those people; how could slaying dragons have been appropriate for him? Yet, did Pingman not know that it was not his role? It was because his nature coincided with that Way and he forgot external forms and traces; how could he have had leisure to calculate whether it was of use or no use to the worldly? Now, as a creature, the dragon is indeed spiritual; the art of slaughtering it is something humanly difficult to master. Faced with this, Pingman pursued it resolutely; though impoverished, he would not stop (some texts have 'desist' for 'stop')—this was Pingman's nature, a divine martiality marvelously derived from the courage of the sage! Alas! Dragon slaying was heard of in ancient times; now, across how many generations, has it not appeared once in Pingman's nature? The so-called sages and worthies are truly able to fulfill the nature of man and fulfill the nature of all things. Even sages and worthies have not yet been heard to distinguish Pingman's mind and rectify what he entrusted himself to; how much less could the trivial rabble understand Pingman? Was not the Way of dragon slaying brought to exhaustion? Between the vast six directions, ancient times turn again into the present: the departed are indeed lamentable, and those to come are indeed pitiable!