Sandalwood Death: A Novel (Chinese Literature Today Book Series)

foot on the top of the cudgel, and assumed the golden rooster stance, shading his eyes with his hand, like a monkey gazing into the distance. The finale: a backward leap sent him back to the ground, where he landed solidly, brought his hands together in front of his chest, and bowed to his audience. Neither breathing hard nor sweating, he was perfectly poised, entirely natural, an extraordinary individual. The crowd applauded and shouted:
    “Bravo!”
    General Yue Fei issued a second command:
    “Bajie, heed my command—”
    The general who had taken on the appearance of Zhu Bajie waddled forward.
    “Your servant is here!” he replied in a muffled voice.
    “I order you to demonstrate for this crowd the eighteen models of manure rake skills.”
    “As you command!”
    Dragging his manure rake up in front of the crowd, Zhu Bajie greeted them with a foolish laugh— ke ke ke —the way a simple-minded farmer would approach a pile of manure to be raked. There was no mistaking his weapon: it was an ordinary manure rake, the sort that all families owned and all farmers knew how to use. Dragging it behind him, he circled the crowd with a silly grin, did it again, and then a third time. The crowd laughed, but they were getting annoyed, as they wondered whether walking around them with a silly grin was all this general was capable of doing. After the third revolution, he threw away his rake, got down on his hands and knees, and crawled on the ground, making pig noises— oink oink —like an old sow rooting for food. The crowd could hold back no longer. An explosion of laughter greeted this sight, but stopped abruptly when the people glanced at General Yue, who stood ramrod straight and immobile as a statue. Maybe, the people wondered, maybe this third general is leading up to some unique skills.
    Sure enough, once he’d finished his rooting old sow act, his hands and feet began to speed up, until he was crawling along faster than any pig could possibly run, oinking the whole time. He crawled and he crawled, and then he rolled on the ground, rolled and rolled, quickly becoming a black whirlwind that spun him into a standing position. How, his puzzled audience wondered, had his manure rake wound up back in his hand? His movements seemed clumsy and awkward, but any expert could have told them that clumsy, awkward movements sometimes hide beauty in motion. Every move, every maneuver, was just as it should have been, and the crowd showed their appreciation with a generous round of applause.
    General Yue said:
    “Revered villagers, be heedful. The Jade Emperor has commanded me to take control of the divine altar in order to form and train a homeborn army to make war against the foreign devils. They are the reincarnation of Jin soldiers; you will be the disseminators of the way of Yue Fei. The foreign enemy is in possession of powerful rifles and cannons, and of sharp bayonets. How will you ward off their assaults unless you master the martial arts? The Heavenly Emperor has sent me to pass on the secrets of the divine fists, whose mastery will make you impervious to their knives and bullets, unaffected by water or fire, immune to death. Are you willing to do as your general asks?”
    “We await your instructions, great general!” the crowd roared.
    “Sun, Zhu, heed my command!” General Yue said.
    “Your servant awaits his orders!” one said.
    “Your servant awaits his orders!” the other said.
    The General commanded:
    “Demonstrate the Golden Bell Shield technique of divine boxing to the assembled crowd.”
    “As commanded!” Sun and Zhu replied in unison.
    General Yue Fei personally turned two paper tallies into ashes and told Wukong and Bajie to swallow the solution. Then he recited a secret incantation, this time clearly enunciating every word, as if wanting the crowd to commit it to memory:
    “Golden Bell Shield, iron shirt, both parts of Righteous Harmony fist. Righteous Harmony fist holds up the sky, ingesting tallies as an iron immortal in the celestial mist. An iron immortal sits on an iron lotus terrace. Iron head, iron waist, iron stockade, all fortified against enemy weapons . . .”
    The incantation ended, the General sprayed a mouthful of water over Wukong. Then he sprayed another mouthful over Bajie.
    “It is done!” he said. “Now perform!”
    Sun Wukong concentrated his strength and pointed to his head; Zhu Bajie twirled his manure rake, took aim at Sun Wukong’s head, and swung. Wukong