When Bihua Lingjun brought the gray wolf cub back to Heaven, everyone was mystified. Several immortal friends heard that Bihua had acquired yet another spirit beast and came over as usual to see the spectacle. One look at the fluffy, dusty-gray little thing left them astounded. The young wolf spirit huddled on a meditation cushion, shrinking further every time someone looked at him and trying to bury his head in the cushion. After the visitors had seen their fill and gone outside, they could not resist asking, “Brother Bihua, why on earth did you bring home a creature like that?”
Bihua Lingjun smiled. “Your eyes simply aren’t discerning enough to appreciate his merits.” One of his friends said, “Perhaps not. But however I look at him, he seems the most hopeless sort of wolf spirit from the mortal world. You could catch a handful stronger than him anywhere you went. And he looks distinctly dim-witted. I truly can’t see what makes him rare.”
Bihua Lingjun said unhurriedly, “Think about it from another angle and you’ll understand his rarity. For a creature to cultivate into a spirit in the mortal world is extremely difficult. Yet this wolf cub is both foolish and dull, and somehow he still managed it. Either he was born with an extraordinarily unusual spiritual root, or he had an extraordinary encounter. Whichever it was, surely that makes him very rare.”
After seeing his friends off, Bihua returned to find that the attendants had bathed the gray wolf cub and combed his fur. He looked considerably more presentable. Bihua stroked his head with great tenderness. “Do you like Heaven?” The little wolf looked down at his own forepaws. Bihua took one and gently squeezed it. “Your old name wasn’t especially pleasing. I’ll give you a new one. From now on, you shall be called Geyue.”
Many years later, Geyue would often lie on a rooftop and sigh, “Heaven really is a wonderful place.” Standing beside him and gazing toward the distant clouds, Bihua Lingjun would say, “Then you ought to thank me for having such discerning eyes that day.” Geyue would smack his forehead. “My lord, you’ve said that a thousand times. Don’t you ever get tired of it?” Bihua would give him a half-smile. “Since you’ve heard me say it a thousand times, why must I repeat what comes next before you’ll stop lying there? You haven’t finished today’s cultivation exercises. Get down and carry on.” With a wave of his hand, he would levitate Geyue, seize him by the back of his robe, and toss him from the roof into the courtyard.
Geyue would scramble to his feet, dust off his robes, and grin. “My lord, you know I’m hopeless, like mud that won’t stick to a wall. Couldn’t you simply stop making me practice immortal arts?”
Bihua Lingjun would float down from the roof. “I brought you here precisely because I wanted to see whether I could get that mud to stick. Now I’ve managed to plaster half the wall, and the result is quite satisfactory. So I absolutely must plaster the other half too.”
Geyue would heave a great sigh, putting on a miserable face, and drag his feet toward the quiet room to cultivate.
Bihua Lingjun truly devoted a great deal of thought and effort to him.
At first Geyue was exceedingly timid. To give him courage, Bihua took him everywhere: to tea and chess with his immortal friends, to discussions of the Dao and scriptural teachings. Bihua also liked visiting the Tathagata in the Western Paradise and took Geyue there as well. At first the little wolf dared do nothing but curl up shivering in Bihua’s arms. Gradually he grew bolder, until accompanying Bihua everywhere became second nature. Whenever Bihua drank tea, played chess, or debated scripture, Geyue would lie beside him or bury his head against Bihua’s chest and sleep contentedly.
Although Geyue possessed spiritual roots, he began life rather foolish and slow-witted. By the time he had outgrown those traits, he had acquired a thoroughgoing case of laziness instead. His cultivation proceeded in fits and starts. When Bihua Lingjun grew impatient, he would pop a few spiritual pills into the cub’s mouth. Only after a century or so of stumbling progress could Geyue freely assume human form. As a gray wolf, he invariably wore a drab gray robe in human guise. He was good-natured, though rather lazy and irreverent, and prone to slipping away for little naps. He often ran errands and delivered messages for Bihua, wandering all over Heaven, where the immortals had become rather fond of him. The Primordial Heavenly Venerable once even proposed taking him on as an immortal envoy. Geyue refused with impeccable courtesy. “I’m honored by Your Venerable Lordship’s kindness, but since I have already entered Bihua Lingjun’s service, I do not wish to change masters. He brought me to Heaven, and I could never repay that kindness. I only wish to remain at his command from now on.”
Afterward, the Primordial Heavenly Venerable remarked to Bihua Lingjun, “Wolves are extraordinarily difficult to tame. His loyalty to you is truly commendable.” Finding a little spare time, Bihua said to Geyue, “The Primordial Heavenly Venerable praised your loyalty today. But whether I keep you near me or raise other spirit beasts, I do it because I enjoy it, not to bestow favors. Living in my residence is a kind of immortal affinity between us; there’s no debt of gratitude. You may consider your own hopes and future. If you wish to serve another immortal lord or take an official post I recommend you for, that would be perfectly good. Serving the Primordial Heavenly Venerable, as he offered, would be an excellent opportunity.”
Geyue looked at Bihua with emerald-green eyes. After a moment he smiled. “My lord, what you say is quite right. But all that talk about repaying kindness was actually… ahem… just an excuse I made to the Venerable Lord. I couldn’t very well tell him outright that I’m too lazy to go. You know what I’m like. Serving another immortal, or holding an official post, would certainly be less comfortable than staying here. If… if I just want to remain in this residence, will you promise not to drive me away?” His expression was so earnest that Bihua Lingjun could almost see pointed wolf ears sprouting from his head, twitching ingratiatingly.
Bihua Lingjun replied, “Of course I won’t drive you away. I only want you to know that if you ever have ambitions or wishes of your own, you’re free to leave at any time.”
Geyue immediately said, “I haven’t any ambitions. Everything here is wonderful. There’s food, sleep, and plenty of opportunity to be lazy.” He showed his two pointed upper fangs. “I just want to stay by my lord’s side. I won’t go anywhere.”
Bihua thought Geyue rather lacking in ambition, but there was nothing he could do about it.
After that conversation, however, Geyue unexpectedly became more industrious. He ran about the residence helping with all kinds of chores and frequently asked whether Bihua had any errands for him. Delighted with the change, Bihua would often take Geyue along when he had heavenly business, hoping to broaden his experience.
When Bihua went to visit immortal friends for tea and chess or to discuss scripture, Geyue still accompanied him. With the attendants he would carry tea, fruit, and refreshments back and forth, then transform into a wolf and curl beside Bihua to doze, the gray fur all over his body rising and falling gently with his snores.
Until one day, when Bihua Lingjun took Geyue along on another visit to the Western Paradise, a venerable monk who had strayed onto the demonic path attempted rebellion and escape. At that moment the Tathagata was delivering a sermon beside the Ganges, attended by most of the Buddhas, bodhisattvas, and venerable disciples. Only Dipankara Buddha and the Buddha of Great Compassionate Light, who were chatting with Bihua, suddenly sensed the disturbance and began to resist. Bihua naturally joined them. There were two renegade monks, but the two Buddhas and Bihua believed there was only one. Since they wanted to capture rather than harm him, they held back their power. Geyue knew Bihua could easily handle such a situation and dared not rush in to cause trouble, so he remained nearby on guard. Suddenly he spotted the second renegade, hidden and creeping closer to launch an ambush.
When Bihua Lingjun sensed something amiss and spun around, he saw Geyue impaled through the chest on a monk’s staff, lifted into the air and then pinned to the ground.
Geyue’s immortal essence had shattered completely. There was no way to save him. Bihua could only watch him struggle to smile as he murmured brokenly, “If… if I’d listened to my lord… worked a little harder… cultivated my immortal arts a little better… it would… it would have been better…”
Blood soaked the drab gray robe as the immortal light around Geyue slowly dimmed. “My lord… if you hadn’t… brought me to Heaven… I would have starved to death long ago… You said… we had an immortal affinity… That made me so happy… And in the end… I never went anywhere else… I’m still here… beside my lord…”
Amid the fading light, the bloodied young man in gray became a bloodied gray wolf. Struggling, he rested his head on the hem of Bihua Lingjun’s robe. Then the immortal light vanished entirely, and he lay motionless.
From the fragments of Geyue’s broken soul, the Tathagata gathered a tiny remnant of immortal essence and placed it in Bihua Lingjun’s hands. “If you refine an elixir, you may be able to restore his soul and allow him to enter the cycle of reincarnation. But it will take a very long time, and in the end it will still depend upon his fate.”
Looking back, it seemed the Tathagata had already foreseen something of what was to come.
Even immortals cannot always change what fate has decreed.
Lying in bed, Bihua Lingjun found the emotions of that distant past surging through him. He could not tell whether what he felt was heartache or melancholy.
A voice suddenly came from beside his pillow. “What a pity I was still in my egg back then. Had I been there, perhaps I could have saved that wolf.”
Bihua Lingjun replied, “Your Imperial Majesty’s powers truly are boundless. You can even read the thoughts in this humble immortal’s heart.”
The cloud quilt rustled beside him, as though Danzhu had turned over. “I’m not powerful enough to read your thoughts. But you’ve been lying quite still without sleeping, and there’s sadness and regret in your breathing. I’d say the chances are ten out of ten that you’re thinking about that wolf.”
A hand reached over and gently stroked Bihua Lingjun’s shoulder. “I, too, have known things that cannot be helped. If you’re hurting, you may lean against me for a while.”