Before I passed the examination to become a scholar (xiucai), I traveled to Jinan to participate in the regional exams, coinciding with the Chinese New Year celebrations. According to traditional customs, the day before the start of spring, all the shops and businesses erected multicolored ceremonial arches and marched to the local provincial office, accompanied by drums and gongs, to offer their greetings. This was called “Welcoming Spring.” I joined some friends to enjoy the lively scene.
That day, the streets were packed with spectators, forming walls of people on all sides. In the main hall of the government office, I saw four officials dressed in red robes, seated opposite one another in pairs. At the time, I was young and didn’t know their ranks or positions, but the clamor of the crowd and the deafening noise of gongs and drums were unforgettable.
Suddenly, a man leading a small child with disheveled hair approached, carrying a yoke and baskets. Kneeling, he seemed to say something, but amidst the uproar, I couldn’t hear his words. The officials on the dais burst into laughter, and one of them gave an order to a man in blue robes to instruct the performer to display a magic trick. The man stood up and asked, “What kind of magic should I perform?” The officials conferred briefly, then sent an attendant to inquire about his specialty. The performer replied, “I can conjure out-of-season items.” The attendant reported this back, and shortly after, the man was instructed to produce peaches.
The magician agreed. He took off his outer robe and draped it over a square bamboo basket. Then, feigning irritation, he said, “The officials truly demand the impossible! The ice hasn’t even thawed, and they want peaches? If I don’t comply, they’ll get angry, but where on earth can I find peaches? What can I do?” His son chimed in, “Father, you already promised—how can you refuse now?” After some thought, the magician sighed and said, “I’ve pondered this for a while. It’s the icy beginnings of spring, and there’s no way to find peaches on earth. Only the celestial orchard of the Queen Mother of the West has fruit-bearing trees all year round. I’ll have to steal peaches from the heavens!”
His son exclaimed, “What? How can you climb to the heavens?” The father replied, “I have magic for that.” He opened the basket and pulled out a coil of rope, dozens of meters long. Taking one end, he tossed it upward, and the rope suspended itself midair as though caught on something. As he continued to toss the rope higher, it rose into the clouds, vanishing from sight. When he ran out of rope, he called to his son: “Come here, child! I’m old and weak; I can’t climb this. You’ll have to go.”
The boy, looking reluctant, protested, “Father, this rope is as thin as thread! How can I trust it to hold me as I climb to such great heights? If it snaps midway, where would my body end up?” His father coaxed and reassured him: “I’ve already made the promise; there’s no backing out. Go now—if you bring back a peach, the officials will surely reward us with silver. I’ll use it to find you a beautiful bride.” The boy, still hesitant, finally agreed. He grasped the rope and began climbing, hand over hand, foot following hand, like a spider ascending its web. Higher and higher he went, until he disappeared into the clouds.
After a long while, a peach the size of a bowl fell from the sky. The magician was overjoyed and presented it to the officials. They passed it around in amazement, unable to discern if it was real or fake. Suddenly, the rope fell to the ground. Alarmed, the magician cried, “Disaster! Someone above has cut the rope—how will my son get down?” Shortly after, something fell from the sky—it was his son’s head. The magician wept, cradling the head, exclaiming, “He must have been caught stealing peaches by the celestial guards. My son is finished!” Then a foot fell, followed by the rest of the limbs and torso, one piece at a time, until there was nothing left. The magician, devastated, gathered the body parts into the bamboo basket, covered it, and said, “This son of mine followed me everywhere, performing for a living. Now, because of the officials’ command, he died so horribly! I must take him back to bury him.”
He knelt before the officials and said, “For the sake of a peach, my son was killed! If the kind officials could help with his burial, I would be eternally grateful and repay you in my next life.” The officials, shocked and sympathetic, each offered silver coins. The magician accepted the money, tied it around his waist, then tapped the bamboo basket, saying, “Child, come out and thank the officials for their generosity!” Suddenly, the boy, disheveled as before, emerged from the basket and kowtowed to the officials. It was the same son, alive and well.
Because of the magician’s extraordinary skills, I remember this incident vividly to this day. Later, I heard that the White Lotus Sect was capable of similar magic tricks. Could this father-and-son duo have been members of the sect?
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