Qingzhou Divine Encounters

In the region of Qingzhou, mountain spirits and wild monsters are abundant, as are uncanonical shrines and rustic cults. On Mount Tai, there are numerous matters of which the ancient Master did not speak: the Nine Hells Inscription suppressing evil spirits and wronged souls; malicious ghosts claiming lives, leaving countless corpses in inns; night travelers trapped in the mountains, becoming wandering specters of the lost... Note: Absurd, utterly absurd. If one listens to such talk, this realm is overrun by demons and hobgoblins, leaving no place for the living to set foot. ... It is rumored that by the waters and within the dense woods of Seedling Temple, woodland sprites frequently appear, stealing sacrificial dates and defiling the Buddha statues. These so-called sprites are likely just herds of roe deer from the forest. One should chant a poem: "Woodland sprites, woodland sprites, devour not my dates. Three years I have fed thee, harm not my Buddha." Note: The layout of Seedling Temple, with a Buddhist hall to the west, a Daoist shrine to the north, and an ancestral hall to the south, was proposed by a senior brother from the Order. Yet, passing by it today, I still find it remarkably strange. ... Arriving at Tranquil Pier, I noted that all the coming and going fisherfolk worship the Sea Goddess. Legend says she governs the Eastern Sea alongside the Dragon King. The Dragon King is cruel by nature, delighting in sweeping away boats with storms; the Matriarch, however, embodies supreme kindness, often sailing a small skiff through the wind and waves to save the drowning. But if she is a deity, why must she steer a boat? It is highly probable she was merely a mortal woman skilled at the helm who repeatedly saved lives, and through repeated embellishment, her deeds became divine legend. Having listened to the accounts of the fishermen and boatmen, I record the following anomalies: A merchant ship from Qingzhou moored at Penglai Bay. Its masts were shattered, its oars broken, and peril was imminent. The crew cowered in the cabin in terror, praying to the gods. Suddenly, a fire flared at the tip of the mast, glowing as bright as a clear moon, leading the way forward. In moments, the waves calmed. In the distance, they saw a woman in colorful robes standing upon the waves, holding a red lantern, slowly ascending into the clouds. Zhang Wang, a fisherman of Tranquil Pier, encountered a hurricane at night. The waves towered over ten feet high, and the darkness obscured all directions. The entire boat was struck with terror, kneeling in the cabin to cry out to the gods. Soon, a red lantern was seen hanging from the mast, guiding the boat onward. The waves lowered where the lantern passed, and the waters parted. By dawn, they had moored at the shoals of the Yellow River. Wang suddenly realized: "Had the divine not manifested last night, we would all be in the bellies of fishes!" ... Last night, I sailed a small boat alone to watch the tide at sea. Before I was halfway there, the sky suddenly changed, the sea winds howled, and the waves surged over ten feet. I could not distinguish direction in the pitch black, hearing only the thunderous roar of the tide. Fear gripped my heart. I, who have lived a life of unbridled freedom, thought I might meet my end here. Suddenly, I saw a red lantern ahead, suspended at the mast's tip. I steered my boat, chasing the phantom of the light. I know not how far I traveled, but I felt the winds gradually calm and the waves subside. When dawn broke, the boat was already moored at Tranquil Pier. I looked around, but the red lantern had vanished, and there was no one in sight. Going ashore to ask the fishermen, they all claimed it was the Sea Goddess guiding the way. I have never believed in ghosts or gods, yet the events of last night remain vivid in my mind. If no one guided me, how did I escape danger? If it was not divine aid, why was no figure seen? Note: I have pondered this repeatedly. I suspect that the so-called Sea Goddess might simply be passing fishing boats that, upon seeing a vessel in distress, hang a lantern to guide it, and depart immediately after the rescue without leaving a name. One person does this, and others follow suit. Over the years, passed from mouth to ear, it becomes a divine myth. The fisherfolk spend their days battling wind and waves, their lives hanging by a thread. Without a sliver of faith to rely upon, they could hardly endure. The worship of the Sea Goddess is perhaps the very incarnation of this psychological anchor. ... Recalling the past today, I begin to feel my previous judgments were too hasty. I used to measure the world strictly by logic; upon seeing anomalies, I would casually dismiss them as "false rumors," thinking myself wise. Was this not actually intellectual laziness? It will not do. I must correct this flaw. Recorded on the twenty-sixth day of the fourth month, the third year of Xiande.