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jumped over the stone wall."
"According to legends, a ghost is both weightless and shapeless. His feather-light and
opaque body could walk through a solid wall with ease. Why did he have to jump over it?"
The assistant keenly reasoned and suggested, "There is some inconsistence with this case.
Let's go there to investigate."
They entered the backyard and, after a brief search, discovered a few questionable
footprints on the top of the wall extending to the street.
    "You have been deceived. That is not a ghost at all but a smart villain," The assistant
cleverly concluded, "The true murderer is very cunning. He hires a crook. Pretending to be
the victim's ghost, he attempted to hoodwink you."
The appeal judge contemplated it for a long while, and agreed with his analysis.
The next
day, he changed his decree and upheld the local judge's original verdict.
19
TOO CUNNING
    On the south of city Gin, there was an ill-maintained temple. A monk, with his two
apprentices, lived there. Periodically receiving visitors, they displayed neither courtesy nor
decorum. Their aloof behavior was both oddly contradictory to their religion and the social
norms. It seemed that they were poorly-cultivated, unsociable and even dim-witted. It was
actually very cunning and calculating, they deliberately neglected those pious visitors. In
reality, they are "miracle-manipulators." The monk clandestinely acquired sulfur and
grinded it into powder. At night, he casted it to the air and ignited it with a small piece of
burning paper. It looks like a small-scaled firecracker show. Several villagers noticed this
"wonder" appeared in the temple from affair. With amazement and excitement, they
vigorously ran to inform the resident monks. The temple doors were bolted tightly and
nobody answered. They seemly fell into deep sleep.
    The next morning, someone eagerly mentioned about this marvel. In unison, those
cunning monks responded that they didn't detect anything out of ordinary last night.
Another day, those calculating monks borrowed two sets of Buddha's clothes from a nearby
theater and dressed themselves up at midnight. One apprentice monk perched themselves
on the top of the roof of the temple. The other one posed himself against an aged pagoda
tree on the front doors. Many villagers observed this phenomenon and anxiously came to
tell them next day. This monk light-heartedly brushed off this report. How could this miracle
occur in such a remote and unknown temple? With mystification and amusement, he
remarked that the holy Buddha was over Western Paradise. By no means, the divine would
visit this insignificant location. By laws, this kind of rumor was prohibited. The offender
would be severely punished.
    "Please, don't pick on us," The cunning monk often implored, with a touch of vague
sincerity, "We are merely ordinary monks who need peace and tranquility in studying our
religion volumes." His response brought more approbation from everywhere.
    Those miracles and his modest attitude were spread fast and soon reached other
pious believers' ears. They highly admired and considered him as an all-wise living Buddha.
From adjacent villages, visitors swarmed to this temple to worship him. For their own belief
and welfare, many of them generously donated money for the repair of this ill-maintained
holy place. However, the monk never bought a piece of shingle or repaired any cracked
walls or columns.
    "Appearance is superficial and transitory. People shouldn't be perplexed by the materialism
of the mundane world. We must solely focus on polishing and enhancing our inner self,"
The monk solemnly lectured and explained, "If I decorated this temple sumptuously, were I
indirectly encourage my faithful followers to contribute more money?" Besides those
fascinating speeches, he secretly instructed his apprentices to perform those miracles.
"What a sagacious thought," Listening to this kind of lectures, visitors were overwhelmed,
with great veneration, exclaiming.