Master Bao and the Thief

The fruit of a well-lived life springs from the seeds of good conduct.

A story from the Tang Dynasty of China (618–907 CE)

Master Bao rode his great ox, Xi, along a tree-lined road in the kingdom of Kang in Shandong Providence. His pupil, Ping, strode alongside.

“Tonight, we will rest in the city of Hwang-Lei, Ping. It is noted for its productive rice fields, and its bountiful harvests of fruits and vegetables.”

The well-traveled road soon opened to an area of vast rice fields, where many farmers worked with their oxen. Wagons pulled by still more oxen plied the road on which the Monk and Ping traveled.

Soon the travelers entered the gate of the walled city of Hwang-Lei, and stopped at an inn on the main street. A wooden sign swaying slightly in the soft breeze told them it was the Inn of the Plum Blossom Bower.

After turning Xi over to the stable lad for a rubdown and meal, the travelers pushed open the door to the lobby of the inn. Upon entering, they noticed a commotion taking place in front of the registration counter.

A thin man dressed in rags was huddled on the floor, his hands and arms protecting his head from the rain of blows and kicks from three large men. The men were cussing loudly as their punches and kicks hit home.

Master Bao stepped up to the fracas and pushed the three sweating men aside. Recognizing the monk, the men stepped back immediately and bowed deeply to him.

“What is happening here? Why are you beating this man?”

“He is a thief, Master,” the tallest one said. “We caught him stealing silver from the money box behind the counter. Rather than call the constables, which would mean the Magistrate would become involved and we would need to be witnesses, we decided to mete out justice ourselves.”

Master Bao and Ping helped the victim of the beating to his feet, and brought him, limping and bent over, to a chair in the lobby. “Justice is the province of those given the Mandate of Heaven and the representatives of the Dragon Throne. Anger and beating this man will not change him. It will only harden your own heart with shame.

“Bring me warm water and soap,” the monk ordered the innkeeper. “And fetch vinegar and plasters for this man’s injuries.”

Shortly after washing and treating the thief’s wounds, Master Bao and Ping treated him to a meal at a nearby restaurant.

“Heaven itself is against me, Master,” the man moaned while gobbling down a large bowl of noodles. “I, Ma Gan, am the unluckiest man on this planet.”

After Ma Gan had eaten his fill of noodles and emptied several cups of tea, he bowed deeply to Master Bao. “Since I was but a child, people have hated me, treated me with distain, and laughed at me, all for no reason. It is my miserable fate to have the stars lined up against me. Woe is my life…”

Master Bao and Ping listened carefully to Ma Gan’s laments until he finally fell silent.

“Tell me, Ma Gan. Why did you try to steal the silver from the money box at the inn?”

“I was hungry, Master. I hadn’t eaten in three days.”

“Then why didn’t you steal the bread that was in the kitchen in the inn’s restaurant, right in the next room? You can’t eat silver, and did you not know it was guarded?”

“It was my terrible luck to get caught, Master. That’s all. I thought, if I steal the silver, I can have many loaves of bread, and many meals. But if I steal the bread, I’ll be hungry again tomorrow.”

“So you looked into the future, rather than satisfy your immediate need for food. By not remaining in the present, you received a beating.”

Ma Gan was silent, his head cocked to one side. “So if I wish to become lucky, I should steal only what I need.”

“Is there no work you can do so you wouldn’t need to steal in order to live?”

“I have worked, Master,” Ma Gan wailed, “but bad luck always seems to come my way. I was a clerk for a woolen goods store, but, because of my crossed stars, I was beaten and fired.”

“What happened?”

“Curse my luck, the owner had a beautiful daughter. He caught me trying to persuade her to share her bed with me.”

“So you were untrustworthy in the eyes of the owner, and he responded by beating you and throwing you from the store.”

“Yes. You can see how unfortunate I have been. When I worked for a farmer, he fired me because I stole one of his goats. He had many, and I didn’t think he’d miss one. It was just my ill fortune that he was a farmer who knew each of his goats by name and quickly found one missing.” Here Ma Gan burst into tears.

“Listen carefully, Ma Gan. The past and future are ghosts. Dwelling in them only bring fear and regret.”

Ma Gan dried his eyes on his dirty sleeve and seemed to be listening to the Monk.

Master Bao went on, speaking quietly. “Neither Heaven nor Life seek to harm you. Lay aside your mistrust of the Universe, and seek to live in the Present without fear. Accept the world as you find it, for only then can you have true peace of mind.”

The Monk and Ping rose to go. “Go, Ma Gan, to the Temple of Bountiful Beauty that is nearby. If you desire to truly change your attitude, meet with the Chief Abbot. From then on, your life will be as you choose to make it.

“Remember, inner balance and proper behavior, together with acceptance of the Will of Heaven, will bring you a life of well-being.”

Later, after eating their evening rice, Ping approached Master Bao, bowed deeply three times with his hands fold inside his capacious sleeves, and said, “Please, Master. I heard all you told the thief, but will he follow your wisdom?

Master Bao smiled. “That we cannot know, Student Ping. Each must find his own spiritual path, and our role was merely to point out one possible road to his inner peace.

“Master Lao Tzu said that the fruit of a well-lived life springs from the seed of good conduct. And that is keeping in the flow of the Dao.”

This is the first time this story has been published anywhere.