第三十三回 太学生上书伏阙 花和尚入世说流氓 (Chapter Thirty-Three: The Imperial Students Present Their Plea at the Palace Gates; The Tattooed Monk Steps Forth to Rebuke the Street Rogues)

Now, the Jin troops had laid siege to the Eastern Capital, and the imperial court was paralyzed by indecision between war and peace. Li Bangyan, Zhang Bangchang, and their ilk were single-mindedly committed to appeasement, forcefully urging Emperor Qinzong to cede three strategic prefectures and pay a hefty ransom in gold and silk in order to make the enemy withdraw. When the Imperial College student Chen Dong received this news, his heart swelled with righteous fury. He thereupon gathered his fellow scholars from the college halls and drafted a joint memorial. It called for the execution of the six arch-traitors, Cai Jing and Tong Guan among them, and the reinstatement of Li Gang and Zhong Shidao to implement a firm strategy of resistance and defense.

At the first light of dawn that day, Chen Dong led over a thousand Imperial College students to assemble outside Xuande Gate. They prostrated themselves before the palace gates to present their petition. Each student wore a square scholar's cap and a blue robe, holding a long scroll as they knelt upon the imperial avenue. For a time, lamentations shook the very earth, as they tearfully set forth their plea, begging the Son of Heaven to see the truth clearly. Imperial guards had long since taken their positions along both sides of the avenue, halberds in hand, yet they dared not disperse the crowd. Commoners passing by were profoundly moved by the sight. Some, their blood stirred by fervor, joined the ranks of the kneeling petitioners, further swelling their formidable presence.

Within the palace, Emperor Qinzong heard the uproar from outside and dispatched a palace eunuch to investigate. The eunuch returned to report that Imperial College students were kneeling in petition before the gates. Li Bangyan, who was in attendance at court, promptly memorialized: "These bookish students gather in a mob to coerce the throne. They are indeed nothing but seditious rabble. Kaifeng Prefecture should be ordered to disperse them and apprehend the ringleaders to serve as a stern warning to others." Emperor Qinzong pondered this and said, "Yet what they speak of is also for the sake of the state. To use force to drive them away might cause us to lose the hearts of the scholar-officials. Let their memorial first be brought for me to read."

Not long after, the eunuch presented the memorial from Chen Dong and the others. Having read it through, Emperor Qinzong found its language earnest and sincere, its arguments on the stakes of war and defense clearly laid out, and its plea for the reinstatement of Li Gang touched a chord within him. Yet he still feared the overwhelming might of the Jin troops and dared not suddenly commit to war. While he hesitated, another minister arrived with a report: the commoners within the city, hearing of the students' petition, had flocked together in support. Tens of thousands now packed the streets and alleys, their voices adding weight to the students' cause.

Fearing that unrest might erupt, Emperor Qinzong had no choice but to issue an edict. He soothed the Imperial College students, stating that he was now aware of their plea and ordering them to disperse for the time being to await his decision. Chen Dong and his companions had knelt under the blazing sun for half a day. Upon receiving this decree, they knew an immediate outcome was unlikely, and thus had to lead the crowd in a temporary retreat. Yet this action had already sent tremors through the capital, causing the peace-advocating ministers no small measure of trepidation, while giving a slight boost to the courage of those loyalists who advocated for war.

Let us now follow another thread of the story. As for the Tattooed Monk Lu Zhishen, ever since entering the Eastern Capital with Song Jiang, he had been lodging at Xiangguo Temple under orders. His duties were to secretly guard his sworn brothers and to gather intelligence. On this day, hearing the tumultuous clamor from the city streets and talk of Imperial College students kneeling in petition, he strolled out of the temple to see for himself what was happening.

Lu Zhishen walked onto Bianhe Avenue, where crowds surged like tides, buzzing with talk and speculation. His stature was massive and imposing, and though dressed in monastic robes, he still drew curious glances. As he made his way forward, a sudden disturbance erupted ahead, filled with shouts of abuse and sounds of weeping. Lu Zhishen pushed through the onlookers and stepped forward to look. He saw several ragged, good-for-nothing rogues surrounding an old man and a young girl, trying to wrest away a bundle from them. The old man pleaded desperately, while the girl shook with terror.

The leader of the rogues, a man with the furtive, sharp features of a weasel nicknamed "Street Rat" Zhang San, clutched at the bundle and cried, "You old wretch! You owe me money and now you think you can slip out of the city? This bundle will serve as interest!" The old man wept, "Good sir, please hear me out. I am but a humble vegetable farmer from outside the city walls. Because the Jin troops are coming and grain is dear in the city, I brought my daughter in to sell our produce. How could I owe any money? This bundle contains only the copper coins from the sale and a few old garments. I beg you, let us go."

Zhang San cursed, "Nonsense! The other day at my teahouse, you drank tea and owe me fifty coppers! Now that I've caught you, you won't get off so easily!" So saying, he lunged to snatch the bundle. The other rogues joined in the bullying. Though many commoners stood watching, all feared this gang of ruffians and none dared step forward.

Seeing this, Lu Zhishen felt rage surge from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head. He strode in great steps into the circle and roared, "You wretched birds! In broad daylight, beneath the very walls of the imperial palace, you dare to bully good and honest folk!" Zhang San turned his head and saw a stout, hefty monk. Paying him little heed, he tilted his head and said, "Monk, you'd best mind your own business. Go back to your temple and chant your sutras!"

Lu Zhishen offered no reply. Instead, he shot out his left hand and, like seizing a chick, hauled Zhang San over. His right hand swung up and delivered a thunderous slap that sent Zhang San reeling, his head spinning. The other rogues gave a shout and rushed at him together. Lu Zhishen tossed Zhang San aside and began wielding his iron-like arms-a punch to the east, a kick to the west. In moments, the gang of rogues lay scattered on the ground, some rolling, some crawling, all groaning in pain.

Lu Zhishen pointed at them and thundered, "I am the Tattooed Monk Lu Zhishen, the very man who once pummeled that tyrant 'Guardian of the West' Zheng Guanxi to death with three blows! If next time I catch any of you engaged in such heartless villainy, watch your mangy heads! Now, begone, all of you!" Hearing that this was Lu Zhishen, the rogues were scared out of their wits. Not daring to utter a single word, they helped each other up and fled in utter disgrace.

The old man and the girl hurried over to bow in profound gratitude. Lu Zhishen said, "No need for bows, no need. In these troubled times, with wicked ministers holding sway and foreign invaders at our gates, you humble folk must look out for one another all the more. Make haste and return home outside the city, and be careful on the road." The old man poured out a thousand thanks and departed with his daughter.

The crowd that had gathered to watch, witnessing Lu Zhishen's heroic chivalry, secretly cheered in their hearts. Someone whispered, "If the court had a few more such stalwart and righteous men, what would we have to fear from the Jin?" Lu Zhishen heard this and let out a hearty laugh. Paying it no further mind, he turned on his heel and strode with great steps back towards Xiangguo Temple. As he walked, he pondered to himself, "Chen Dong and those scholars, kneeling in petition at the gates-they have spirit, but theirs is ultimately the method of bookish men. The foul and corrupt air in this Eastern Capital needs the fists of us brothers to sweep it clean. Yet I wonder when the court will finally reach a decision on Brother Song Jiang's matter of seeking amnesty and recruitment for our band?" Thinking of this, he could not help but feel a fresh wave of impatience rise within him. He rubbed his shaven head and, with swift, meteor-like strides, vanished into the throng of people at the street corner.