Travelogue Essays of China: Shandong Volume

Author: / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2002-08-01
Features: From here, climbing hundreds of steps north leads to the summit of Mount Tai, known as the Jade Emperor Temple. In front of the Jade Emperor Temple stands a stone pillar, square, yellow, with fine texture, and about ten feet tall. This is what is known as the. The stone of the stele is not from Mount Tai. Some say there is a stele in the middle, protected by an outer stone cap. According to the "Record" by Taizai Li Yu: The stone stele is buried in the earth, seemingly square but not perfectly so, with uneven widths on all four sides. Upon close inspection, there are twelve lines, each with twelve characters, most of which are unrecognizable. Today, it is completely different. However, Li Gong believed that this stone was located a dozen steps east of the Tang Emperor Minghuang, which clearly shows it is not this stone. Regrettably, I was not there to verify it personally. The stele was engraved and made into rubbing prints, causing this cultural relic to be lost. Turning eastward, after walking a hundred more steps and climbing another hundred, there is a stone house covering it, similar in height to the Jade Emperor Temple. Inside the house, there is a black stone with a lid about ten feet square. It is crystal clear and smooth, capable of reflecting a person's shadow. It is said that this is where Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty buried the golden mud and jade seals. Legends say that the white clouds rise from this golden mud-sealed jade seal. In front, the terrain is relatively wide, known as the Sun, Qin, and Yue. Around five o'clock in the morning, watching the sunrise is at the Sun; gazing westward to see the land of Qin is at the Qin; and looking south to see the land of Yue is at the Yue. Those later references to "this peak" being the Qin or "this peak" being the Yue, etc., are all absurd. At this time, the fog was thick, and it was not suitable to stay long. Everything was invisible, just like the time I climbed the mountain in spring, and I reluctantly descended. Just then, Xu Wentong arrived, and we drank and discussed poetry, very happy. By three o'clock in the morning, we retired, agreeing to watch the sunrise at five. However, everyone slept soundly, and by the time we woke up, it was already noon. My mind was hazy, and I was very disappointed. I reluctantly helped Xu Jun with his cane to trace our path from yesterday. At this time, the sky had just cleared, and the sunlight was brilliant. In the southeastern direction, as far as the eye could see, something faintly white and boundless was probably the sea. Due north and slightly west, a faint, greenish-blue line, like the battlements of the Great Wall, I guessed was probably the Taihang Mountains, the Hengshan Mountains, the Songshan Mountains, etc. As for the more distant Zishui, Mianshui, Jishui, Sishui, and other rivers, they flowed in thousands, winding like folded silk ribbons. The nearby small peaks looked like small mounds, except for Cuelai Mountain, which was slightly higher, standing there like a flat table. I gazed for a long time and then said to Xu Jun, "The account in the 'Outer Commentary of the Han School of Poetry' about Confucius seeing white horses on the Sun is something I dare not believe, but what Mengzi said, 'Confucius climbed Mount Tai and found the world small,' can it be deceiving us?" Soon, white clouds rose from each peak, like steam rising from tombs. They drifted slightly upward and grew as large as a kang bed. There were probably hundreds of them, rushing around, and when clouds met, they merged. The rising clouds were endless, moving and merging, and in no time, the ground turned white like jade, while the sky above was bright and transparent, a deep blue, with a clear division between heaven and earth. Then, I called for the servant to bring wine and shared it with Xu Jun, thinking this wonder was something I had never seen in my life. The saying, "The wild horse's fine mane," is indeed accurate! After a while, someone reported that the Censor Yuan had arrived, accompanied by the Vice Censor Zhang Xiji, the Commissioner of Revenue Li Song, and others. We then set up a banquet in his guest quarters, later moving it to the pine and cypress trees south of the Jade Emperor Temple. According to the "Record of the Imperial Sacrifice," Emperor Wu planted a thousand pine and cypress trees, the largest of which were fifteen or sixteen feet in circumference. Today, less than one-tenth remain, and I suspect the small cypresses are descendants of the Han-era trees. During the banquet, everyone strolled to the Self-Destructing Cliff. Its opening was only about three feet wide, and the drop below was thousands of feet deep. Mr. Zhang quickly pulled his feet back, not daring to approach. At the banquet, Mr. Wang spoke passionately about military affairs, but he also pulled his feet back, not daring to get close. Mr. Zhang glanced at him and said, "Mr. Wang was just passionately discussing military matters, and no one dared to oppose you. Now, why are you pulling back your feet?" I laughed and said, "This is also a tactic from the art of war, but you don't understand it. If advancing has no way out but retreating does, then retreat. This is why Mr. Wang pulled back his feet." Mr. Wang laughed too, and then they all parted. The Censor Yuan invited me to explore the mountains the next day, and then he went down. The next morning at five o'clock, it rained heavily, and the rain continued day and night. At first, I shared a room with Mr. Xu, but then Mr. Zhang and Mr. Wang's rooms collapsed and leaked, so I moved into our room. Our room had nearly two feet of water, so we had to set up a bed on the long table. The long table already had a page setting up wine and dishes, and during the banquet, we discussed everything under the sky. Mr. Zhang also often inserted witty jokes, making everyone laugh. The rain lasted for four days before finally easing. At night, lying in bed, I was very tired. Mr. Wang recited poems in a low, cicada-like voice, often tugging my ear to tell me the lines he had composed. I couldn't handle his teasing and interruptions, so I reluctantly got up to check the weather. But the sky was clear and pure. Over a hundred stars, each as large as a cup, hung clearly at the eaves of the room, almost as if they could be picked up by hand. When it got lighter, it rained again. The food provided by Tai'an Prefecture had run out, so I bid farewell to the Censor Yuan and set off with everyone. At this time, the weather was extremely cold. Everyone wore five or six layers of silk and ramie clothes but dared not take them off. Some even asked the Taoists for cotton robes. When we reached the Gate of Heaven, the rain stopped, and the sun came out. Every time we passed one of the eighteen turns, we took off a layer of clothes. By the time we reached the Imperial Barrier Rock, we had taken off all our clothes. At this moment, I saw waterfalls rushing down from the cliffs, over twenty feet high from top to bottom. The waves churned like dragons fighting, spitting out scales; they were like silver fish leaping everywhere, spitting out countless pearls and foam. This scene inspired me to compose poems uncontrollably. I stood barefoot in the flowing spring and stones, drank several large cups of wine, and then, after finishing them, sang loudly, my voice shaking the surrounding trees. The others were also filled with vigor and enthusiasm. Some joined me in singing, while others nearby drank freely. After a while, someone reported that the Censor Yuan had arrived, so we went to the Fendu Palace for a small farewell banquet. In early April of the following year, I passed through Laiwu on a tour of the various departments under my jurisdiction and happened to encounter my father's troubles. After the matter was resolved, I prayed to the spirit of Mount Tai for protection and took the time to climb it again. Around five o'clock in the morning, I climbed the Sun with a cane. After a while, the eastern sky could barely be distinguished, and when I looked back, my clothes and those of my companions had turned deep red. Looking at the cliffs and all the steles on the mountain, they were also red. Then, I saw a red line rising from the dim eastern sea of clouds. Behind the mountains was still dark, and at this time, it must have been the third time the rooster crowed. After a while, the sun rose like a large wheel, with colorful clouds filling the sky, as if the Lord of Clouds and the Rainbow Goddess were escorting the sun out to sea. All the peaks and cities became visible. At this moment, what I saw on the mountain was exactly the same as what I saw from below. I climbed Mount Tai three times, and only at this time did I fully appreciate its scenic spots. These scenic spots are what I personally witnessed. Its peaks are the Rückyue Peak, the Jilong Peak, the Lotus Peak, the Mingyue Peak, the Zhuren Peak, the Duxiu Peak, and the East and West Shenxiao Peaks; its cliffs are the Baizhang Cliff, the Mabang Cliff, and the Bopiao Cliff; its valleys are the Shijing Valley, the Taohua Valley, and the Mati Valley; its stones are the Niuxin Stone, the Longkou Stone, the Shijian Stone, and the Longwen Huayu Stone; its caves are the Lvgong Cave, the Baiyun Cave, and the Yaoguan Cave; its springs are the Baihe Spring, the Shuian Spring, and the Bailong Spring. Many of the famous and magnificent ones have not yet been visited by me in one or two places. Of the seventy-two emperors who succeeded in the imperial sacrifice, only half are recorded. There are many cultural relics between heaven and earth, but even the most knowledgeable scholars in later generations cannot list their general outline. This is how endless knowledge is! Seventeen years have passed since my last climb of Mount Tai, and the scenery I personally witnessed seems as if it happened just yesterday. I was returning from Taihe in Jiangxi and decided to write something, so I recorded this all together. The poems from the two later climbs of Mount Tai are ten seven-character regulated poems.