by Unknown
SEVENTY-THREE
Passions, because of old enmity, beget calamity;
Demon-trapped, the Mind Lord with luck breaks the light.
We were telling you about the Great Sage Sun who supported the Tang Monk to proceed on the main road to the West with Eight Rules and Sha Monk. In a little while, however, they came upon some towered buildings with palatial features and ornaments. Reining in his horse, the Tang Monk said, “Disciples, can you tell what sort of a place that is?” Raising his head to look, Pilgrim saw
Mountains ringing the buildings;
A brook rounding the arbors;
A dense variety of trees before the door;
Most fragrant wild flowers outside the house.
An egret resting in the willows
Seemed like jade immaculate in the mist;
An oriole singing amidst the peach
Appeared as brilliant gold within the flames.
Wild deer in pairs
Trod on green grass without a thought or care;
Mountain fowl by twos
Flew and chattered high above the red wood tips.
Truly it seemed like Liu and Ruan’s Tiantai cave,1
A fairy haunt, an immortal’s house no less.
“Master,” said Pilgrim, “that is neither the residence of kings or dukes nor a house of the noble or the rich. It looks rather like a Daoist Abbey or a Buddhist monastery, and we’ll know for sure when we get there.” On hearing this, Tripitaka whipped his horse forward. As they arrived before the door, master and disciples discovered a stone plaque mounted on the door, which had on it the inscription, Yellow Flower Abbey. Tripitaka dismounted.
Eight Rules said, “A Yellow Flower Abbey has to be the home of a Daoist. It might be good for us to go in and meet him. Our attire may be different, but we follow the same practices of austerity.” “You are right,” said Sha Monk. “We can go in and enjoy the scenery a bit in the first place, and we can also graze and feed the horse in the second. If it’s convenient, we can ask them to prepare some food for Master to eat.”
The elder agreed and the four of them went inside. On both sides of the second-level door was mounted the following new year couplet:
Yellow sprout, white snow2—an immortal’s house;
Jasper grass, jade flowers—a feathered one’s 3 home.
“This,” said Pilgrim, chuckling, “is a can-carrying Daoist, who burns rushes, refines herbs, and works the fire in the reaction vessels.”
Giving him a pinch, Tripitaka said, “Be careful with your words! Be careful with your words! We are not acquaintances or relatives of his, and we’re staying here temporarily. Why should we mind what he’s doing?” He had not quite finished the sentence when they went through the second-level door. The main hall was entirely closed up, but in the east corridor they saw a Daoist sitting there and making drugs and pills. How was he attired, you ask?
He wore a lacquered gold cap of scintillating red
And a dark, long robe of luminous black.
He trod on cloud-patterned shoes of spreading green;
He knotted a Master Lü sash of swaying yellow.
His face seemed like an iron gourd;
His eyes shone like bright stars.
His nose loomed up like a Mohammedan’s;
His lips curled outward like a Tartar’s.
Thunderbolts lay hidden in his Daoist mind,
Taming tigers and dragons, a true feathered one.
Seeing him, Tripitaka said in a loud voice, “Old immortal, this humble cleric bows to you.” Jerking up his head and startled by the sight, the Daoist abandoned the drugs in his hands, pressed down his hair pin hurriedly, tidied his clothes, and walked down the steps to say, “Old master, forgive me for not coming to meet you. Please be seated inside.”
Delighted, the elder went up to the main hall; pushing open the door, he saw the sacred images of the Three Pure Ones, before which were urns and incense laid out on a long sacrificial table. The elder took up several sticks of incense and stuck them into the urns. Only after he had bowed three times to the images did he greet the Daoist once more and took the guest seats with his disciples. The Daoist called for tea to be served at once, whereupon two young lads rushed inside to look for the tea tray, to wash out the tea cups, to scrub the tea spoons, and to prepare tea fruits. All their scurrying about soon disturbed those several fated enemies.
The seven female fiends of the Cobweb Cave, you see, were once schoolmates of this Daoist when they studied the magic arts together. After they had put on the old clothes and given instruction to their adopted sons, they came to this place. At this moment, they were cutting up cloth for clothes when they saw the lads busily preparing tea. “Lads,” they asked, “who are the guests who have arrived that send you into such a frenzy?” “Four monks walked in just now,” replied the lads, “and Master asked for tea to be served at once.” “Was there a white, stoutish priest?” asked one of the female fiends. “Yes,” they replied. “Another one with long snout and huge ears?” she asked again. “Yes,” they replied. “Go take the tea outside quickly,” said the female fiend, “and wink to your master as you do so. Ask him to come in, for I have something important to tell him.”
The divine lads indeed took five cups of tea out to the main hall; smoothing out his clothes, the Daoist picked up a cup and presented it with both hands to Tripitaka. Then he served Eight Rules, Sha Monk, and Pilgrim. After tea, the cups were collected, and as they did so, one of the lads winked at the Daoist. At once he arose and said, “Please be seated all of you. Lads, put away the trays and keep our guests company. I’ll be back soon.” The master and his disciples went outside of the hall with one lad to enjoy the scenery, and we shall leave them for the moment.
We tell you now about that Daoist, who went back to the abbot chamber, where he found those seven girls all going to their knees and saying, “Elder Brother! Elder Brother! Listen to what your sisters have to say.” Raising them with his hands, the Daoist said, “When you first came, you told me already that you wanted to speak to me. It just so happened that the drugs I was preparing today had to avoid being exposed to females, and that was why I did not respond. Now there are guests outside. Can we talk later?”
The fiends said, “What we have to tell you, Elder Brother, can be told only with the arrival of your guests. When they leave, there’ll be no need for us to tell you anymore.” “Look at the way my worthy sisters speak!” said the Daoist with a chuckle. “What do you mean that it can be told only when the guests are here? Are you mad? Let’s not say that I am one of those who cultivates the art of immortality in purity and quiescence. Even if I were a profane person burdened with the care of wife, children, and other domestic affairs, I would still have to wait for the guests to leave before I took care of my own business. How could you be so ill-behaved and cause me such embarrassment? Let me go out.” All tugging at him, the fiends said, “Elder Brother, please don’t be angry. Let us ask you, where did those guests come from?” Red in the face, the Daoist did not answer them.
One of the fiends said, “Just now the lads came in to fetch tea, and I heard that they were four monks.” “So what if they are monks?” said the Daoist angrily. “Among these four monks,” said the fiend, “there is a rather plump one with a white face, and there is also one who has a long snout and huge ears. Have you asked them where they came from?” “There are indeed two monks like that,” replied the Daoist, “but how did you know? Have you seen these two somewhere before?”
“Elder Brother,” said one of the girls, “you really don’t know all the intricacies behind the matter. That monk with the white face happens to be someone sent by the Tang court to seek scriptures in the Western Heaven. This morning he came to our cave to beg for food. Since your sisters have long heard of the reputation of the Tang Monk, we seized him.” “Why did you want to do that?” asked the Daoist.
The girl said, “We have long heard people say that the Tang Monk possesses a tru
e body that has practiced self-cultivation for ten incarnations. Anyone who eats a piece of his flesh will attain longevity. That’s why we seized him. Later, we were trapped in the Purgation Stream by that priest with a long snout and huge ears. First he robbed us of our clothing; then he grew even bolder and wanted to bathe with us in the same pool. We couldn’t stop him, of course. After he jumped into the water, he changed into a sheat fish spirit and darted back and forth between our legs. He was such a rogue that we thought he would surely assault us. Then he leaped out of the water and changed back into his original appearance. When he saw that we would not yield to him, he took up a nine-pronged muckrake and tried to kill us all. If we hadn’t used a little of our intelligence, we would have been slain by him. We managed to flee, though terror-stricken, with our lives, and then we told your nephews to go fight with the monk. We didn’t tarry, however, to learn whether they remained dead or alive, for we came straight here to find refuge. We beg you, for the sake of our friendship as schoolmates once, to exact vengeance this day for us.”
When he heard these words, the Daoist became so angry that his color changed and his voice quivered. “So, these monks are so insolent, so villainous!” he said. “Relax, all of you. Let me take care of them!” Thanking him, the girls said, “If Elder Brother wants to fight, we’ll help you.” “No need to fight! No need to fight!” said the Daoist. “As the proverb says, ‘You suffer three percent loss already once you fight!’ Follow me instead, all of you.”
The girls followed him into his room; placing a ladder behind his bed, he climbed up to the crossbeam and took down a small leather case, approximately eight inches high, a foot long, four inches wide, and bolted by a small copper lock. From his sleeve the Daoist also took out a goose-yellow handkerchief, tied to the fringes of which was a tiny key. He opened the lock and took out a small package of medicine, which was, you see,
The dung of all mountain birds
Collected to a thousand pounds.
When cooked in a copper pot,
The time and heat were both even.
A thousand pounds made just one cup,
Which was reduced to three pinches.
Three pinches were then pan-fried,
Cooked, and refined still some more.
This poison was produced at last,
Rare as previous jewels and gems.
Any person who took one taste
Would behold King Yama in haste!
“Sisters,” said the Daoist to the girls, “if I want to feed this treasure of mine to an ordinary mortal, all I need is a thousandth part of a tael and the person will die when it reaches his stomach. Even an immortal will perish if he ingests three-thousandth parts of a tael. These monks, I suppose, might be fairly accomplished in the Way, and they’ll need the larger dosage. Bring me a scale quickly.”
One of the girls quickly took up a small scale and weighed in twelve-thousandth parts of a tael of this poison, which she then divided into four portions. The Daoist then took twelve red dates, into each of which he added about a thousandth part of the drug after he had crushed the date slightly with his fingers. The twelve dates were then placed inside four tea mugs, while two black dates were placed in another tea mug. After the mugs were filled with tea and put on a tray, he said to the girls, “Let me go question them. We’ll let them go if they are not from the Tang court. But if they indeed came from the court, I will ask for a change of tea, and you will send the lads out with this tea. The moment they drink this, every one of them will perish. You will be avenged, and your anguish will be relieved.” The girls could not have been more grateful.
Putting on a new robe to affect a show of courtesy, the Daoist walked out and asked the Tang Monk and his disciples to take the guest seats once more. “Please forgive me for my absence, old master,” he said. “Just now I had to go inside to give instruction for my young students to pick green vegetables and white turnips, so that they could prepare a meal for you.” “This humble cleric,” replied Tripitaka “came to see you with empty hands. How could I dare accept a meal from you?”
Chuckling, the Daoist said, “You and I are both persons who have left the home. The moment we see an Abbey’s gate, we can count on receiving a little emolument. How could you mention empty hands? May I ask the old master, which monastery do you belong to? Why are you here?” “This humble cleric” said Tripitaka, “has been sent by the Throne of the Great Tang in the Land of the East to go acquire scriptures from the Great Thunderclap Monastery in the Western Heaven. We were just passing through your immortal residence and we came in to see you in all sincerity.”
On hearing this, the Daoist beamed and said, “The master is a Buddha of great virtue and great piety. This humble Daoist was ignorant of this, and he was remiss in going the proper distance to wait for you. Pardon me! Pardon me!” He then called out, “Lad, go and change the tea quickly, and tell them to hurry up with the food.” The little lad ran inside, and he was met by the girls who said to him, “There’s fine tea here, all prepared. Take it out.” The lad indeed took out the five tea mugs.
Immediately the Daoist presented with both hands one of the mugs containing the red dates to the Tang Monk. When he saw how huge a person Eight Rules was, he took him for the senior disciple, while Sha Monk he regarded as the second disciple. Pilgrim, being the smallest, was taken to be the youngest disciple, and only the fourth mug was given to him.
Pilgrim was exceedingly perceptive. The moment he accepted the tea mug, he saw that the one left on the tray had two black dates in it. “Sir,” he said at once, “let me exchange my mug with yours.” “To tell you the truth, elder,” said the Daoist, smiling, “a poor Daoist in the mountains does not always have on hand the proper tea condiments. Just now I personally searched in the back for fruits and found only these twelve red dates, with which I made four mugs of tea to serve to you. Your humble Daoist did not want to fail to bear you company, and that was why I made a fifth cup of tea with dates of less desirable color. It’s an expression of respect from this poor Daoist.”
“How could you say that?” replied Pilgrim with a chuckle. “As the ancients said,
He who is at home is never poor;
It’s real poverty when he’s on tour.
You live here. How could you claim to be poor? Only mendicants like us are really poor! Let me exchange with you. Let me exchange with you.” On hearing this, Tripitaka said, “Wukong, this is truly the hospitality of our immortal. Drink it. Why do you want to exchange it?” Pilgrim had no choice but to hold the mug in his left hand; he covered it with his right and stared at the rest of his companions.
We tell you now about that Eight Rules, who was both hungry and thirsty, and he had always had a huge appetite. When he saw that there were three red dates in the tea, he picked them up and swallowed them in two gulps. His master ate them, and Sha Monk, too, ate them. In a moment, however, Eight Rules’s face turned pale, tears rolled down from Sha Monk’s eyes, and the Tang Monk foamed at the mouth. Unable to remain in their seats, all three of them fainted and fell to the ground.
Realizing that they had been poisoned, our Great Sage hurled the tea mug in his hand at the face of the Daoist. The Daoist shielded himself with upraised hand, his sleeve stopping the mug and sending it crashing to the floor. “How boorish can you be, priest!” snapped the Daoist angrily. “How dare you smash my tea mug?”
“You beast!” scolded Pilgrim. “What do you have to say about those three persons of mine? What have we done to you that you should want to use poisoned tea on us?” “Yokel,” said the Daoist, “you’ve caused great calamity! Don’t you know?” “We’ve just entered your door,” replied Pilgrim, “and we’ve barely announced where we came from. We haven’t even engaged in any lofty debate. How could we cause any calamity?”
“Didn’t you beg for food at the Cobweb Cave? Didn’t you bathe at the Purgation Spring?” asked the Daoist. Pilgrim said, “Those bathing in the Purgation Spring were seven female fiends. If you m
ention them, you must know them, and that means you, too, have to be a monster-spirit. Don’t run away! Have a taste of my rod!” Dear Great Sage! He pulled out the golden-hooped rod from his ear and gave it a wave; immediately it grew to have the thickness of a rice bowl. He struck at the face of the Daoist, who stepped aside quickly to dodge the blow before meeting his opponent with a treasure sword.
As the two of them brawled and fought, the noise aroused the female fiends inside, who surged out, crying, “Spare your efforts, Elder Brother. Let your sisters capture him.” When Pilgrim saw them, he became angrier than ever. Wielding the iron rod with both hands, he hurled himself into their midst and attacked them wildly. All seven of the fiends at once loosened their clothes and exposed their snow-white bellies to exercise their magic. From their navels threads and cords poured out, which became, in no time at all, a huge awning that had Pilgrim entirely covered down below.
Sensing that the tide was turning against him, Pilgrim at once recited a spell and somersaulted right through the top of the awning to escape. He suppressed his anger to stand still in midair to look at those bright shiny cords produced by the fiends: weaving back and forth, up and down, as if guided by a shuttle, they formed a huge web that in an instant had the entire Yellow Flower Abbey enshrouded and removed it clean out of sight. “Formidable! Formidable!” said Pilgrim to himself. “It was a good thing that I didn’t fall into their hands! No wonder Zhu Eight Rules fell so many times! But what shall I do now? My master and my brothers have been poisoned, and I have no idea even of the background of these fiends who have banded themselves together. I’d better go and question that local spirit once more.”
Dear Great Sage! He lowered his cloud, made the magic sign with his fingers, and recited a spell beginning with the letter Oṁ to summon once more the local spirit. Trembling all over, the aged god knelt by the road and kowtowed, saying, “Great Sage, you were going to rescue your master. Why did you turn back here?”
