“That is entirely up to you,” replied the other cheerfully. “We shall meet again tomorrow after the rain.”
The dragon king took his leave and went back to his watery palace from Chang'an. The greater and lesser water spirits greeted him with the question, “How did Your Majesty's visit to the soothsayer go?”
“It was all right,” he replied, “but he was a smooth-tongued fortune-teller. When I asked him when it would rain, he said tomorrow. When I asked what time of day it would be and how much would fall, he said that at mid-morning the clouds would gather, late in the morning it would thunder, at noon it would start to rain, and early in the afternoon it would stop raining. He also said that 3 feet 3.48 inches of rain would fall. I made a wager with him that if his prediction turned out to be true, I'd give him fifty ounces of gold; but if he got it at all wrong, I'd smash up his shopfront id drive him out, so that he wouldn't be able to deceive the public any longer. The watery tribe laughed and said, “Your Majesty is the General Superintendent of the Eight Rivers and the Great Dragon God of the Rain, so only you can know whether there will be rain. How dare he talk such nonsense? That fortune-teller is bound to lose, absolutely bound to.”
Just as all the dragon sons and grandsons were laughing and talking about this with the fish ministers and crab soldiers a shout was heard from the sky: “Dragon King of the Jing River, prepare to receive an Imperial Decree.” They all looked up and saw a warrior in golden clothes coming towards the watery palace with a decree from the Jade Emperor in his hands. This alarmed the dragon king, who straightened his clothes, stood up solemnly, burnt incense and received the decree. The gold-clad warrior returned to the sky. Giving thanks for the imperial grace the dragon king opened the letter and read:
“We order the Superintendent of the Eight Rivers to travel with thunder and lightning and succor the city of Chang'an with rain.”
The time and the amount on the decree were exactly the same as those foretold by the soothsayer, which so startled the dragon king that he passed out. When he came round a moment later he said to the watery tribe, “How can there be a man of such powers in the mortal world? He is really someone who knows everything about Heaven and Earth-I'm bound to be beaten by him.”
“Your Majesty should not worry,” submitted General Shad in a memorial. “There will be no difficulty about beating him. Your subject has a humble plan that I can guarantee will shut that scoundrel's mouth.” When the dragon king asked what the plan was, the general replied, “Make it rain at the wrong time and not quite enough, so that his predictions are wrong, and then you will surely beat him. There will be nothing to stop you smashing his sign to smithereens and running him out of town.” The dragon king accepted his advice and stopped worrying.
The next day he ordered Viscount Wind, Duke Thunder, the Cloud Youth and Mother Lightning to go to the sky above the city of Chang'an. He waited till late in the morning before spreading the clouds, unleashed the thunder at noon, started the rain in the early afternoon, and stopped it in the late afternoon, when only three feet and 0.4 inches had fallen. He had thus changed the times by two hours and reduced the amount of rain by.08 inches. After the rain he dismissed his generals and his hosts and put away his clouds; then he changed back into a white-clad scholar and charged into Yuan Shoucheng's fortune-telling stall on West Gate Street. Without even asking for an explanation he smashed up Yuan's sign, his brush, his inkstone, and everything else, while the fortune-teller remained calmly in his chair without moving.
The dragon king brandished the door in the air, ready to hit him with it, and began to pour abuse on him: “You evil man, with all your reckless talk about blessings and disasters; you stinking deceiver of the masses. Your predictions are false, and you talk nonsense. You got the time and the amount of today's rain quite wrong, but you still sit there so high and mighty. Get out at once if you want me to spare your life.” Yuan Shoucheng, who was as calm and unfrightened as ever, looked up to the sky with a mocking smile.
“I'm not afraid,” he said, “I'm not afraid. I've committed no capital offence, but I fear that you have. You may be able to fool other people, but you can't fool me. I know who you are. You're no scholar; you're the Dragon King of the River Jing. You flouted a decree of the Jade Emperor by changing the time of the rain and cutting down the amount, which is a crime against the laws of Heaven. I'm afraid that you're for the executioner's blade on the Dragon-slicing Scaffold. Are you going to keep up that abuse of me?”
On hearing this the dragon king trembled from fear and his hair stood on end. Dropping the door at once he straightened his clothes and made gestures of submission, kneeling to the soothsayer and saying, “Please do not be angry with me, sir; I was only joking. I never thought that it would be taken seriously. Whatever am I to do if I have broken the laws of Heaven? I beg you to save me, sir. If you don't I shall haunt you after my death.”
“I can't save you,” replied Yuan Shoucheng, “but I can suggest one way by which you may be able to save your skin.”
“I beg you to tell me,” implored the dragon king.
“Tomorrow afternoon at half past one you will have to go to the office of the official in charge of personnel, Wei Zheng, to be beheaded. If you want to stay alive you must report at once to the present Tang Emperor, Taizong, as Wei Zheng is a minister of his; and if you can get him to speak for you, you will be all right.” The dragon king took his leave of the soothsayer with tears in his eyes and went away. The sun was setting in the West, and the moon and stars were coming out.
As clouds settle round the mountains the crows fly back to roost,
The travelers on long journeys find inns for the night.
The returning geese sleep on a sandbank by the ford,
As the Milky Way appears.
While the hours push on
A lamp in the lonely village burns with barely a flame.
Pure is the monastery as the reed smoke curls in the breeze;
Men disappear in the butterfly dream.
As the moon sinks, flower shadows climb the rails,
The stars are a jumble of light.
The hours are called,
The night is already half way through.
The Dragon King of the River Jing did not return to his watery palace but stayed in the sky until the small hours of the morning, when he put away his cloud and his mist horn, and went straight to the gate of the Imperial Palace. At this very moment the Tang Emperor dreamt that he went out of the palace gate to stroll among the flowers in the moonlight. The dragon king at once took human form, went up to him and knelt and bowed before him, crying, “Save me, Your Majesty, save me.”
“Who are you, that we should save you?” asked Taizong.
“Your Majesty is a true dragon,” replied the dragon king, “and I am a wicked dragon. As I have offended against the laws of Heaven, I am due to be beheaded by Your Majesty's illustrious minister Wei Zheng, the official in charge of personnel, so I have come to beg you to save me.”
“If you are supposed to be beheaded by Wei Zheng, we can save you, so set your mind at rest and go along now,” said the Tang Emperor. The dragon king, who was extremely happy, kowtowed in thanks and went away.
Taizong remembered his dream when he woke up. It was now half past four in the morning, so Taizong held court before the assembled civil and military officials.