The Gold Dream
Project background/introduction | PDF of the original in Chinese
If one set off from Guandu on the north bank of the Tamsui River, took the ferry to Bali on the south bank, then walked north along the river for roughly two hours, one would arrive at the cemetery at the base of Guanyin Mountain. A long, long time ago, there was a neglected old temple to the local Tudigong, the patron deity of the surrounding area. The temple had an old clay statue of the Tudigong. Due to its age, the gold paint on the statue had all peeled off, and the hairs of his beard had all been pulled out by mischievous children. But one year, the temple suddenly became lively again. Apparently, someone said the Tudigong had performed a miracle, and would answer any and all prayers. Consequently, believers flooded in from nearby Bali and faraway Taipei. The crowds of people kneeling and praying and the incense smoke that never dissipated was an unprecedented spectacle for the area.
Right across from the temple were a few crude cottages. The people who lived there depended on burials at the cemetery to survive — there were those who consulted on Feng Shui, those who dug graves, those who carved grave markers, and those who sold incense… One of those residents was an incense vendor named Jinlai. He was an extremely stubborn man, and, although the temple’s sudden popularity helped earn him a decent amount of money selling incense, he always turned up his nose at Tudigong, never believing that he was a real deity. In truth, this wasn’t so unreasonable, since Jinlai grew up running around with the children who lived near the cemetery, peeing on the wall of the temple, and pulling out the hairs of Tudigong’s beard.
“Look, the sea goddess Beigang Mazu loves and protects even those who don’t worship her,” Jinlai would often say to his friend Nanshan, a gravedigger. “They say Tudigong is real, but I don’t believe it. If he really did have powers, he should have done something back when I peed behind his temple, or pulled out his beard. Why wait until now?” Nanshan wasn’t sure whether he believed in Tudigong or not, so he didn’t say anything. He merely squinted his eyes thoughtfully, rubbed the beard on his chin, and smiled at Jinlai.
Jinlai and Nanshan had been friends for many years. They were both in their early thirties, and both made their living from funerals. The only difference was that Jinlai was married, while Nanshan was still single. Jinlai not only had a wife, but also a five year old son and a mother in her sixties. Jinlai’s mother thought of Nanshan as a son, and Nanshan likewise treated her as his own mother. Whenever Nanshan was free he would come to Jinlai’s incense shop to chat over tea. If he happened to be there during mealtimes, Jinlai’s mother would invariably insist that he eat with them.
One summer evening, after dinner at Jinlai’s house, the two of them sat under the hundred-year old banyan tree next to the temple to enjoy the break in the heat. The banyan tree’s aerial roots hung from its canopy like whiskers, and its clawlike roots spread out from a mass of thick, sinewy trunks. Silhouetted against the sunset, one could mistake it for a giant, majestic lion. As usual, Jinlai invoked the sea goddess Mazu to mock Tudigong, and, as usual, Nanshan merely squinted his eyes thoughtfully, rubbed the beard on his chin, and smiled at Jinlai.
When it got late, Nanshan got up and went home. Jinlai also stood up and yawned a few times, then started walking toward his house. As he passed the temple, he saw that it was empty except for two oil lamps shining on Tudigong’s lusterless face and bare chin, and he couldn’t help smiling. He was about to continue walking when a thought occurred to him. He stood in front of the temple and, with his hands intertwined, said to the Tudigong, “Holy Tudigong, everyone says you have powers, but I don’t believe it. Come — if you really do have powers, why don’t you use me, Jinlai, to show the world? I’ve been poor all my life, and have never even touched gold before. If you’ll give me a chest full of gold, I will tell the whole world how powerful you are.”
After he finished speaking, Jinlai stood there for a moment, but nothing happened, so he chuckled to himself and went home to bed.
Interestingly, Jinlai had a dream that night. He was lying under a giant stone lion, and it was almost dusk. Tudigong strode out of his temple, looking hale and cheerful, his beard reaching down to his waist. On his right shoulder, he carried a chest of camphor wood, and his left hand held a shovel. He put the chest down gently by Jinlai’s feet, and pried open the lock with the shovel. The chest was full of gold ingots. He began to dig them out, piling shovelful by shovelful next to Jinlai. One ingot fell into the palm of Jinlai’s hand. It felt ice-cold. Jinlai lifted it into the air. The ingot was dense and weighty. “It’s real gold!” thought Jinlai to himself. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before.
The next morning, Jinlai woke up with the dream fresh in his mind. He chuckled to himself. He’s certainly tired enough of being poor, so it’s no wonder he had a dream about a chest full of gold. But as he saw the crowds of supplicants who came from Bali and all the way from Taipei throughout the day, he started to wonder if it really was just a dream or actually a visitation from Tudigong. That evening, he and Nanshan went once again to sit under the big banyan tree to cool down. Nanshan listened wide-eyed as Jinlai recounted his dream. As Jinlai watched Nanshan stroke his chin and smile thoughtfully, he started to think maybe it was a visitation from Tudigong after all.
“There’s only one thing I can’t figure out,” Jinlai said. “I was lying under a stone lion outside the temple, but I’ve never seen a stone lion anywhere near the temple.”
“Never mind a stone lion. I’ve never even seen a clay lion around here,” Nanshan replied. “Though maybe there’s a wooden lion somewhere.”
Jinlai gazed at the banyan tree, with its aerial roots and thick trunk. He jumped up suddenly, pointed at the tree, and said excitedly, “That’s it! It’s right here! Don’t the branches and hanging roots look like a lion’s mane? And this trunk like a lion’s leg? And these roots on the ground like a lion’s paw? No question, the stone lion in my dream is this big banyan tree! It really was a visitation from Tudigong!”
From that evening on, Jinlai came out to the tree every day right after dinner, carrying a straw sleeping mat, on which he would lie, waiting from Tudigong to bring him his chest of gold. He became more pious than any of the pilgrims from Bali or Taipei. He went over to the temple first thing in the morning to pray. He prayed again before lunch. And he would pray once more after dinner, before settling down under the big banyan tree to wait for his gold.
For the first five years, Jinlai would stay at the tree until the small hours of the morning, then roll up his mat and go home to bed. But after about 5 years, he became more obsessed, sometimes waiting under the tree until daybreak before going home to sleep. These upside down days became more and more frequent, and he became increasingly neglectful of his incense business. Finally, his wife couldn’t endure it any longer, and said to him, “If you want to dream your golden dream, go right ahead. I won’t stop you. But you need to at least make sure your family is fed. Although people say, if a woman marries a chicken, she lives as a chicken; if she marries a dog, she lives as a dog; I can’t spend all day dreaming alongside you. If you can’t provide for me, then I’ll have no choice but to leave. Which do you want more — gold or a wife?”
Jinlai responded that of course he wanted her to stay, and promised to do better and provide for his family. In the end, however, his behavior didn’t change in the least bit, and he continued to spend all his waking hours lying under the big banyan tree waiting for his gold. Jinlai’s wife saw that he wasn’t going to listen to her, so she urged Nanshan, as his best friend and still frequent dinner guest, to try to talk some sense into him. So one evening, Nanshan went out and sat down on a corner of Jinlai’s straw mat. He sat silently for a long time, hugging his knees and gathering his thoughts.
Finally, he said, “Jinlai, what makes you think Tudigong wants you to just lie here under the banyan tree waiting for him to bring you a chest full of gold? I think he was actually telling you to work hard. In your dream, didn’t you say he was shoveling gold ingots? I’m thinking when I dig graves, the shoveling is easy when the soil is loose and sandy, but I don’t get paid very much. On the other hand, when the soil is heavy and rocky, I have to work a lot harder, but I get paid more. I reckon there’s nothing heavier than gold, so if you’re digging up gold, it means you have to work so much harder. Where in the world can a person expect to just have gold land at your feet without any effort or sweat?”
“Nanshan, haven’t you seen the children of rich families, who were born swimming in wealth? When have they ever exerted any effort, or produced a drop of sweat?” Jinlai shook his head. “Moreover, in my dream, I wasn’t the one doing the digging — Tudigong was shoveling the gold for me. That was his intention, and you know one can’t defy the will of a god. So it’s better if I continue to wait.”
Jinlai’s wife figured if even his best friend Nanshan couldn’t persuade him to give up his mad obsession, then it was hopeless. She’d be better off finding someone else to marry while she’s still young enough. So one day, she moved out, leaving their son in the care of Jinlai’s mother, and never returned.
Upon learning that his wife had left, Jinlai was not the least bit perturbed. On the contrary, without his wife’s nagging to keep him in check, he felt emboldened to go even further. He set up a straw canopy under the banyan tree and began to spend all day and all night there, waiting for Tudigong to come to him, leaving Nanshan to step in and take care of what’s left of Jinlai’s family. Since Jinlai no longer came home to sleep, his mother invited Nanshan to move in, and whatever money Nanshan brought home from digging graves, he gave to Jinlai’s mother. And so Nanshan took Jinlai’s place in the household, eating his meals in Jinlai’s cottage, sleeping in Jinlai’s bed, looking after Jinlai’s mother, taking care of Jinlai’s son, and also going over to Jinlai’s shelter three times a day to bring him his meals.
Another five years passed. Jinlai’s son turned fifteen, and as he’d gotten older, his father had become a source of shame, because not only did everyone living around the cemetery know about Jinlai and his “gold dream”, everyone in Bali had also heard about the man living under the banyan tree next to the Tudigong temple, dreaming his gold dream. During this time, interest in the temple waned, and fewer and fewer believers came to pray to Tudigong. Instead, more and more curiosity-seekers started coming just to ogle the man under the banyan tree waiting for gold to appear. Finally unable to take the daily teasing and ridicule from his peers, Jinlai’s son followed the path his mother took five years before, and begged Uncle Nanshan to talk to his father.
So one day, after setting Jinlai’s meal on his straw mat, Nanshan said to him, “Jinlai, you better listen to me, and listen good. For ten years, you’ve been thinking about nothing but gold every day. But having too much gold isn’t such a great thing. I’ve dug my fair share of graves for rich folks, and I’ve seen with my own eyes sons and daughters fighting right at the gravesite about who got what. They argue until they’re red in the face, and sometimes even physically fight until someone’s injured and bleeding. Then, when the Qingming Festival rolls around, not one of them comes out to sweep the grave — they’re all still secretly wondering how much gold their brothers and sisters got. Meanwhile, when I look at the families of poor folks, they’re all crying and wailing at the funeral, and I’ve never seen any of them fight over property. And when the Qingming Festival rolls around, they’re all trying to outdo each other cleaning and decorating their father’s grave. What’s the use of all that gold? You can’t take it with you in the coffin when you die. Instead, when you die, it just causes infighting and estrangement in your family. I say you should forget your gold dream.”
Jinlai laughed out loud, and said, “Nanshan, you’re absolutely right! Rich people don’t have anyone to sweep their tombs because they have wives, concubines, and hordes of children and grandchildren, and then they don’t divide up their wealth fairly. But look at me. I just have one son, and I never remarried. So when I get my gold, I will live in luxury for the rest of my time on earth, and my son will get all of it when I die. With no one to bicker with over my estate, why wouldn’t he come sweep my tomb? Furthermore, this was a vision from Tudigong — I’m destined to receive this chest of gold, and nothing you do can change that. Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘Nothing is difficult in this world, as long as one is willing’? I just need to wait patiently, and the gold will finally come.”
Nanshan listened, and decided what Jinlai said wasn’t unreasonable. What’s more, Nanshan himself held some reverence for Tudigong, so in response, he simply rubbed his chin, pulled a few hairs out of his beard, and didn’t say anything more.
When Jinlai’s son saw that Uncle Nanshan still couldn’t persuade his father to change his mind, he had no choice but to leave home, never to return.
Another ten years passed. Jinlai’s mother’s health had declined due to old age and was near death. Yet Jinlai continued to stay under his straw canopy under the banyan tree waiting for his gold, and showed no inclination to return home to tend to his mother. Instead, it was Nanshan who stayed by her side ministering to her, feeding her soup and medicine. One day, Jinlai’s mother grabbed Nanshan’s arm, and in a weak quavering voice, said, “Nanshan, you have always treated me like your own mother, and I want you to know I recognize that. But if you can do me one more favor, I would be even more grateful to you. I beg you to talk to Jinlai again and convince him to come home. People are now saying that he’s lost his mind, and I don’t want to hear it any more. If he doesn’t come to his senses now, my soul will not be able to rest in peace.”
Nanshan thought for several days about what to say to Jinlai. Finally, one night, he went over to the banyan tree, and said to Jinlai, “Jinlai, I think you should forget about the gold. The way I see it, the greatest treasure one can have in this world isn’t gold, but good health, steady work, and a compassionate heart. Take me, for example. My work keeps me fit, and I’m fortunate to have not had any major ailments. People come to Guanyin Mountain every day to bury their dead, so there’s always work for me. And when rich folks ask me to dig a grave, I happily dig the grave for them; when poor folks ask me to dig a grave, I dig the grave for them just as happily, even if they pay me less or can’t pay me at all, because I have the satisfaction of having done a kind deed in their time of grief. So I have the three greatest treasures one can have in this world, and I can’t really ask for anything more from this life. Even if someone gave me a chest full of gold right now, I’m not sure I’d be any happier…”
“Nanshan, it’s only because you don’t have any gold that you can so blithely dismiss the idea of it,” Jinlai interjected. “If someone gave you a chest of gold right now, I’d like to see what you’d really do.”
Nanshan had just gotten started on the lecture he’d spent so many days composing in his mind, but after Jinlai’s sudden retort, he wasn’t sure how to pick up the thread of what he’d been saying. Moreover, what Jinlai said did make some sense. Nanshan had never even had a chest full of copper coins, never mind a chest full of gold. And since Jinlai dismissed his argument as “blithe,” he simply rubbed his chin, plucked a few more hairs from his beard, and didn’t say anything more.
Not long after, Jinlai’s mother died. Nanshan dug the grave and buried her himself. As soon as his mother’s body was in the ground, Jinlai went back to his shelter under the banyan tree to wait for his gold. As the only person left to take care of Jinlai, Nanshan not only had to spend all day digging graves, but also had to rush home three times a day to cook meals and deliver them to Jinlai under the tree. Nevertheless, Nanshan never uttered one word of complaint.
The next ten years passed quickly. Jinlai grew old. He became stick-thin and was often sick. Nanshan had likewise grown old — the beard covering his face had turned from black to gray. But he continued to walk as fast as the wind, and continued to dig graves every day. He had also become even more benevolent and compassionate. One day, he saw Jinlai lying in his hut moaning, and was filled with a sense of sadness for his friend, so he said to him, “Jinlai, your wife has run off, your son has left, your mother has died, and you yourself are old. Even if you got a chest full of gold now, what good would it do you? Don’t waste your time waiting any more — just come home with me.”
“Nanshan, just as you say, I have nothing left in the world. You at least still have your health, you can still dig graves every day, and you still have a compassionate heart. I, on the other hand, don’t even have those three things. All I have left is the hope of receiving that chest full of gold. If you take even that hope away from me, what reason do I have to live? It’s better if you just let me continue to wait.”
Another ten years passed quickly. Jinlai grew even older and more sickly, and was on the threshold of death. Nanshan had likewise grown even older, and everyone took to calling him Uncle Nanshan out of respect. But he was still as healthy as he had always been, continued to dig graves every day, and retained his compassionate heart. The only change was his beard, which he let grow out over the last ten years. It now reached his waist, and while the ends still held a grayish-yellow tint, the hair on his chin was a solid expanse of snowy white. One day, Jinlai stared at Nanshan for a long time, squinting through rheumy eyes, then said, “You know, Nanshan, sometimes when I look at you, and then recall the details of my dream from so many years ago, I keep thinking more and more that you look just like the Tudigong in my dream. I sometimes wonder if you’re the one who’s supposed to dig up the gold for me…”
Nanshan stroked his waist-length white beard and regarded his friend with deep sadness, shaking his head and sighing. Finally, he replied, “You know I’ve dug up enough dirt in this lifetime. Even if you only asked me to dig up copper coins, I wouldn’t be able to do it, never mind gold. Jinlai, you and I are both nearing the end of our days in this world. Why is it that you have never been able to forget that gold dream of yours?”
One day, Nanshan came home at midday after a morning of digging graves for other people, and discovered that Jinlai had died. He went around to the cottages across from the Tudigong temple and asked the neighbors to help arrange a funeral for Jinai. No one was willing to help. If they helped bury the madman, they all said, his madness might rub off on them. Besides, his madness was so deep, he should’ve died long ago.
Nanshan felt a pang of sorrow for his friend in the face of the neighbors’ refusal to help, but he didn’t reproach them. Without saying a word, he carried his shovel to the big banyan tree and started digging a grave right under the straw canopy that his friend had spent a lifetime lying under. Because it was just him, and because he was already tired from working all morning, it took until sunset for Nanshan to dig a hole just barely big enough to fit Jinlai’s body. He reached up and took Jinlai’s body into his arms, and laid him at the bottom of the grave. That was when he realized that there was no room for him to step and climb out of the grave, so he picked up his shovel to dig a step for himself at Jinlai’s feet. But as soon as the shovel plunged into the dirt, he heard the sound of metal striking wood. Nanshan’s heart started racing, and he continued digging, finally uncovering a chest made of camphor wood. He used his shovel to pry open the lock, and saw that the chest was filled with shining, glittering gold ingots. He put down his shovel, knelt down in front of the chest, and reached his hands in to grab the gold ingots. They felt ice-cold. He picked them up. They were dense and weighty.
Nanshan was filled with a deep heartache. He had buried countless people, and watched countless families crying and wailing, mourning their dead loved ones. He had always felt sympathy for them, but had always remained expressionless. At the sight of the chest of gold, however, Nanshan began to weep sorrowfully. He picked up two ingots and tearfully held them out to his dead friend. “Wake up, Jinlai, wake up! Here is the gold you’ve been waiting all your life for! Come on, get up and take it…”
Nanshan placed gold ingots in the space around Jinlai’s feet, just as Jinlai had described in his dream. When those spaces were filled up, Nanshan started piling them on Jinlai’s legs and body. When the chest was finally empty, he climbed out of the grave and started filling it with dirt, burying the gold, the chest, and Jinlai together for all eternity.
The news of Jinlai’s death traveled from the neighbors around the temple all the way to Bali, and for a while it was all anyone could talk about. Everyone agreed that the Tudigong had killed Jinlai, since, if Tudigong hadn’t appeared to Jinlai in a dream, Jinlai would’ve continued running his incense shop, and would still have had a wife and son. Even in the worst case, he wouldn’t have ended up in such a pitiful state. Now he’s dead, but there’s still no gold. Everyone agreed not only did this Tudigong not grant wishes, the temple may even be cursed. It might actually house a demon pretending to be a Tudigong in order to harm people. After much discussion, the villagers decided the best course of action would be to tear down the temple.
All around Guanyin Mountain, Nanshan was the only one who spoke out against the prevailing wisdom, insisting that the Tudigong did have special powers, and that they must not tear down the temple. But when people asked him for proof of these powers, Nanshan refused to say anything.
So less than a month later, the villagers of Bali sent out a crew of workers to tear down the temple, and the Tudigong statue was shattered into a hundred thousand pieces.
The next morning, people discovered that Nanshan had died. He was perfectly healthy until the end, and appeared to have died quite peacefully.
