Mo Hui, a native of Ji, made his living by writing columns for all kinds of newspapers and magazines. His articles were deeply loved by readers, and his fees were generous. But after returning from one writers’ gathering organized by a certain journal in Jingcheng, he suddenly found his ideas dried up. He had no inspiration at all and could not write a single word. Dozens of commissioned pieces had to be abandoned. At first Mo Hui thought he was simply overworked, so he traveled for more than a month. Later he even underwent several courses of psychological counseling, yet still saw not the slightest improvement.
The situation continued for half a year. Mo Hui grew mentally exhausted and was almost ready to give up writing altogether. A friend from Tianjin, skilled in ritual arts, saw him and said this had happened because someone had cast a bi upon him. Mo Hui hurriedly asked what that meant. The friend explained that bi originally referred to a wooden device fixed to a bull’s horns to prevent it from injuring people. There existed in the arts of harmful magic a technique called the bi art: if one gave someone water in which a rune-inscribed crosspiece had been soaked, that person’s greatest talent would be restrained and unable to function. There were not many people in Jingcheng who understood this bi art, and Mo Hui’s friend quickly found the one who had worked the spell. It turned out to be another columnist who had attended that same gathering. His writing style was similar to Mo Hui’s, and in order to compete for commissions he had prepared a cup of “bi water” and secretly mixed it into Mo Hui’s drink. The friend broke the bi spell with a metal object. Mo Hui did not publicize the incident, nor did he pursue responsibility from the other writer.
I heard this story from Kaijun. Biheng originally referred to implements for controlling cattle: a frame set upon the horns to prevent goring was called bi, while a device placed through the nostrils to make leading easier was called heng. In the Rites of Zhou, in the “Offices of the Earth: Keeper of Boundaries,” there is the line: “Adorn the sacrificial oxen and set their biheng.” Among practitioners of the arts there are two techniques, bi water and heng fire. That the victim is likened to sacrificial cattle makes it clear enough that such arts are anything but upright. The columnist who used only bi water on Mo Hui and did not go on to use heng fire cannot therefore be called a kind man. Yet after learning that the bi water had been broken, Mo Hui still chose not to retaliate against the one who had harmed him, though he could have done so. That is something beyond what ordinary people can manage.