Now when Kwan-yu had really received his commission from the
Emperor he searched the bookstalls of the city to find if possible
some ancient descriptions of the best methods used in bell-casting. Also
he offered generous wages to all who had ever had experience in the
great work for which he was preparing. Soon his great foundry was alive
with labourers; huge fires were burning; great piles of gold, silver and
other metals were lying here and there, ready to be weighed.

Whenever Kwan-yu went out to a public tea-house all of his friends plied
him with questions about the great bell.

"Will it be the largest in the world?"

"Oh, no," he would reply, "that is not necessary, but it must be the
sweetest-toned, for we Chinese strive not for size, but for purity; not
for greatness, but for virtue."

"When will it be finished?"

"Only the gods can tell, for I have had little experience, and perhaps I
shall fail to mix the metals properly."

Every few days the Son of Heaven himself would send an imperial
messenger to ask similar questions, for a king is likely to be just as
curious as his subjects, but Kwan-yu would always modestly reply that he
could not be certain; it was very doubtful when the bell would be ready.

At last, however, after consulting an astrologer, Kwan-yu appointed
a day for the casting, and then there came another courtier robed in
splendid garments, saying that at the proper hour the Great One himself