by Unknown
Tripitaka said, “Your Majesty, if you cannot bring suit against him in the Region of Darkness, why do you come here to the World of Light?”
“O Master,” said the man, “you think that this slip of a wronged soul would dare approach your gate? Before this monastery you have the various tutelary devas, the Six Gods of Darkness and the Six Gods of Light, the Guardians of Five Quarters, the Four Sentinels, and the Eighteen Guardians of the Faith, all of them closely watching over you and your horse. Just now it was the Night Patrol God who brought us in here with a gust of divine wind. He said that our water ordeal of three years is now fulfilled, and that we should come to seek an audience with you. He told us that you have under your command a senior disciple, the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, who is able to slay fiends and subdue demons. We have come with all sincerity to plead with you. We beseech you to go to our kingdom and seize the demon, so that the true and the deviate can properly be distinguished. To repay the kindness of Master, we shall imitate those who express their gratitude by weaving grass ropes or holding bracelets in the mouth.”8
“Your Majesty,” said Tripitaka, “so you came here to ask my disciple to get rid of those monsters for you?” “Exactly! Exactly!” said the man. Tripitaka said, “My disciple may not be good in doing something else, but if you ask him to subdue demons and catch fiends, the work will suit him to a tee. But Your Majesty, though you may order him to seize the monster, I fear that he may find it difficult to carry out.”
“Why should it be difficult?” asked the man.
Tripitaka replied, “If that fiend indeed possesses such great magic powers that he has managed to transform himself into an exact image of you, then it will mean also that all the civil and military officials of the court and all your consorts have been nothing but friendly and amiable toward him. Though my disciple may be able, he would not engage in warfare recklessly. For if we were caught by the officials, who should accuse us of plotting against the kingdom and charge us with the crime of treason, we would be imprisoned in your city. Wouldn’t our efforts then be like the failed attempt of drawing a tiger or carving a heron and turning it into another creature?”9
“I still have someone in the city,” said the man. Tripitaka said, “That’s good, that’s good! He must be, I suppose, an hereditary prince of the first order, dispatched to a command post somewhere.” “No,” said the man, “I have in the palace a prince, an heir apparent of my own begetting.” “Has the prince been banished by the demon?” asked Tripitaka. “Not yet,” said the man, “but he has been asked to remain in the Hall of Golden Chimes, either to discuss the classic texts with one of the secretaries, or to sit on the throne with the Daoist. For these three years, the prince was forbidden to enter the palace and unable to see his mother.” Tripitaka asked, “For what reason?” The man said, “This was a plan of that fiend, for he feared that if mother and son had a chance to meet, their casual conversations might lead them to discover the truth.”
“Though your ordeal no doubt has been preordained of Heaven,” said Tripitaka, “it is nonetheless similar to what I had to undergo. Long ago my father was killed by a pirate, who also took my mother by force. After three months, she gave birth to me, and I escaped with my life in the waters. It was my good fortune that a gracious master at the Gold Mountain Monastery reared me till I was grown. Come to think of it,
I had neither father nor mother when I was young,
And the prince at this place has lost his parents.
How pitiful indeed! But let me ask you, though you may have a prince still in court, how can I possibly get to meet him?” “Why not?” asked the man. Tripitaka said, “He’s now guarded by the demon, and he cannot even see his own mother. I’m only a monk. For what reason would I be able to have an audience with him?”
The man said, “But he is leaving the court tomorrow.”
“What for?” asked Tripitaka. The man said, “During the time of the early court tomorrow, the prince plans to lead three thousand men and horses, together with falcons and dogs, to go hunting outside the city. Master will certainly have a chance to meet him; when you do and if you are willing to tell him what I told you, he will believe you.”
“He’s of fleshly eyes and mortal stock,” said Tripitaka. “Having been deceived by the demon into remaining in the hall, was there a day when he did not address the spurious ruler as father king? How could he possibly believe my words?” “If you are afraid that he won’t believe you,” said the man, “we shall leave with you a sign to indicate that you are telling the truth.” “What kind of sign?” asked Tripitaka. The man put down the white jade token inlaid with gold he had in his hands and said, “This thing can be a sign.” “What’s the significance of this thing?” asked Tripitaka. The man said, “After the Daoist had changed into our form, all he lacked was this treasure. When he entered the palace, he claimed that the rain-making Daoist had robbed him of this jade token, which for three years now he had not been able to recover. If our prince sees it, the sight of the thing will remind him of its true owner, and our wrongs will be avenged.”
“All right,” said Tripitaka, “let me have it, and I’ll ask my disciple to take care of you. Will you wait here?”
“We dare not,” said the man. “We plan to ask the Night Patrol God to use another gust of divine wind and send us into the inner palace, where we shall appear in a dream to our true queen of the central palace. We want to make certain that mother and son will be of one mind with all of you.” Tripitaka nodded in agreement and said, “Please go.”
The wronged soul bowed to take leave of Tripitaka, who was trying to walk outside to send him off. Somehow he tripped and fell, and when Tripitaka woke up with a start, it was all a dream. As he faced the dim, flickering lamp in fear, he cried repeatedly, “Disciples! Disciples!”
“What’s all this hollering for the local spirit?”10 mumbled Eight Rules, beginning to stir. “I used to be a man of might dedicated to passing my days by devouring humans, and I loved the taste of blood and meat. What enjoyment! You have to leave the family and ask us to protect you on a journey. I thought I was to be a monk, but in fact I’m a slave! During the day I have to pole the luggage and lead the horse, while at night, I have to carry the night pot and smell someone’s stinky feet by sharing his bed. And even at this hour, you are not asleep! What are you calling disciples for?”
“Disciples,” said Tripitaka, “just now I fell asleep on the table and had a weird dream.” Leaping up all at once, Pilgrim said, “Dreams arise from your thoughts. Before you ascended a mountain, you were afraid of monsters already. You worried over the distance to Thunderclap, which you have yet to reach; you also thought of Chang’an and wondered when you would be able to return. When your mind is restless, you have many dreams. But look at old Monkey! With true single-mindedness I seek to see Buddha in the West, and that’s why I don’t have even the tiniest dream!”
Tripitaka said, “Disciple, this dream of mine is not a homesick dream. When I closed my eyes just now, a violent gust of wind brought into my view a king standing outside the door of our chamber. He said that he was the ruler of the Black Rooster Kingdom, but his whole body was dripping wet and he was weeping.” He then proceeded to give a thorough account of their conversation in the dream to Pilgrim. “No need to say anything more,” said Pilgrim, chuckling. “If he appears in this dream of yours to you, he’s plainly trying to take care of old Monkey by giving me some business. There must be a fiend there trying to usurp the throne and seize the kingdom. Let me distinguish the true from the false for those people. When my rod reaches that place, success is assured.”
“But disciple,” said Tripitaka, “he said that the fiend has great magic power.” “Don’t be afraid of whatever greatness he has!” said Pilgrim. “Just remember that when old Monkey arrives, he’ll have no place to run.” Tripitaka said, “I also remember that he left us something as a sign.” “Master, don’t fool around,” said Eight Rules. “It’s just a dream. Wh
y keep up this chit-chat?” Sha Monk said, “As the saying goes,
Don’t believe the honesty of the honest;
Guard against the unkindness of the kind.
Let us fetch some torches and open our door, then we can see what has happened.”
Pilgrim indeed opened the door, and as they looked together, they saw in the light of the stars and moon there was truly a white jade token inlaid with gold placed on the steps. Eight Rules walked forward and picked it up, saying, “Elder Brother, what is this?” “This is a treasure usually held by a king,” said Pilgrim, “and it’s called a jade token. Master, since we do have such a thing, the matter of your dream has to be true. You can depend entirely on old Monkey for catching the fiend tomorrow. But I want you to face three unlucky things.”
“Fine! Fine! Fine!” said Eight Rules. “It’s enough to have a dream. You have to tell him about it, too! Since when has this fellow failed to play tricks on people? Now he wants you to face three unlucky things.” As he walked back inside, Tripitaka asked, “What three things?” Pilgrim said, “Tomorrow I want you to take the blame, take abuse, and catch the plague.” “Just one of these is bad enough,” said Eight Rules, laughing. “How could one bear all three of them?” The Tang Monk, after all, was an intelligent elder. He therefore asked, “Disciple, can you tell me more about what these three things involve?” “No need to tell you,” said Pilgrim, “but first let me give you these two objects.”
Dear Great Sage! Pulling off one of his hairs, he blew on it a mouthful of divine breath and cried, “Change!” It changed instantly into a red lacquered box plated in gold. After he placed the white jade token inside the box, he said, “Master, in the morning, you should hold this thing in your hands and put on your brocade cassock. Then go sit in the main hall and recite some sūtras. Let me go first to the city to have a look; if there is indeed a fiend, I’ll slay him so that we can achieve some merit at this place. But if there is no fiend, we ought not to incur calamity on ourselves.” “Exactly! Exactly!” said Tripitaka. Pilgrim said, “If the prince doesn’t leave the city, then there may not be much that I can do. But if he indeed comes out of the city in accordance with your dream, I will certainly bring him here to see you.”
“What shall I say to him when I see him?” asked Tripitaka. Pilgrim replied, “When he arrives, let me first come in and announce him. You can then pull the cover of the box open slightly, and I shall change into a tiny monk about two inches tall so that I, too, can be placed inside the box. You can hold the whole thing in your hands. When the prince enters the monastery, he will most certainly want to pay homage to Buddha. Let him bow all he wants, but don’t you pay him any attention. When he sees that you do not even rise before him, he will surely order you seized. Let him do that—in fact, let him beat you, tie you up, or execute you.” “Hey!” said Tripitaka. “He’s capable of issuing a high military order. If he truly wants to have me executed, what shall I do?”
“No fear, for I’m around,” said Pilgrim. “When you get to the crucial moment, I’ll be there to protect you. If he asks who you are, you can identify yourself as a monk sent by imperial decree from the Land of the East to present treasures to Buddha and to acquire scriptures from him in the Western Heaven. If he asks what sort of treasure you have, you can tell him about the brocade cassock of yours. Say to him, however, that it is only a third-class treasure, and that you have in your possession good things that belong to the first and second classes. When he asks you some more, you can then tell him that there is a treasure in this box, which has knowledge of the past five hundred years, the present five hundred years, and the future five hundred years. All in all, this treasure has complete knowledge of the events of past and future for a period of one thousand five hundred years. Let old Monkey come out then, and I shall tell the prince what you heard in your dream. If he believes me, I’ll go catch the demon, so that his father king may be avenged and our reputation may be established at this place. If he doesn’t believe me, we can then show him the white jade token. I fear that he might be a bit young even to recognize the token.”
When Tripitaka heard these words, he was very pleased, saying, “O Disciple, this is a most marvelous plan! But talk about these treasures, one will be called brocade cassock and the other white jade token. What shall be the name of that treasure you will change into?”
“Let’s call him King-Making Thing,” said Pilgrim.
Tripitaka agreed and kept these words in his heart. That whole night master and disciples did not, of course, have any sleep. Impatiently waiting for the dawn, they wish they could
By nodding their heads call forth the eastern sun,
And with one breath disperse all Heaven’s stars.
In a little while, the eastern sky paled with light. Pilgrim thereupon gave the following instruction to Eight Rules and Sha Monk, “Don’t disturb the monks, so that they won’t be milling about in the monastery. When I have accomplished what I must do, then we’ll journey again.” He took leave of them and somersaulted at once into the air. Opening wide his fiery eyes to look toward the West, he discovered that there was indeed a city. “How could he see it so readily?” you ask. The fact of the matter was that the city, as we told you before, was only forty miles away. So, the moment Pilgrim rose into the air, he saw it immediately.
As Pilgrim drew near the city and stared at it carefully, he saw that it was shrouded by unending layers of eerie mists and battered by constant gusts of demonic wind. Sighing to himself in the air, Pilgrim said,
If a true king ascends his precious throne,
Auspicious light and clouds will this place enfold.
Since a fiend has usurped the dragon seat,
Rising black mist seals up the doors of gold.
He was thus speaking to himself when he heard the loud booms of cannons. As the eastern gate swung open, a troop of men and horses appeared, indeed a hunting corps most fearsome in appearance. You see them:
Leaving the capital at dawn,
They go to hunt on the meadow.
Bright banners unfurl in the sun;
White stallions race against the wind.
The lizard-skin drums roll and roll
As tasseled lances strike in pairs.
The falconers are ferocious,
And whippers-in both mean and strong.
Fire cannons rattle the heavens
And birdlime poles glow in the sun.
Each one props up his arrows;
Every man wears his carved bows.
Spreading their nets beneath the slope,
They pull taut the ropes in the paths.
At one crack like a thunderclap,
A thousand steeds charge leopards and bears.
Tricky hares cannot save their lives;
Wily deer are at their wits’ end;
Foxes are fated to expire;
Antelopes perish in the midst.
If pheasants can’t fly to escape,
Could wild fowls find refuge from harm?
All of them ransack the mountain range to capture wild beasts,
And cut down the forest to shoot at flying things!
After those people had come out of the city, they spread out in the countryside toward the east, and in a little while they reached the rice fields on the highland some twenty miles away. In the midst of the troops there was a young warrior, who
Wore a helmet
And a cuirass;
A cummerbund, too,
Of eighteen layers.
His hands held a treasure sword of blue steel and he rode a brown warhorse. A fully strung bow also hung from his waist. Truly
He seemed faintly like a king,
A ruler with noble looks.
His features were not uncouth:
Like a true dragon he moved.
Secretly pleased in the air, Pilgrim said to himself, “That one has to be the crown prince. Let me tease him a little.” Dear Great Sage! He lowered his cloud and darted straight into th
e army of the prince. Shaking his body once, he changed instantly into a little white rabbit, scampering about before the prince’s horse. When the prince saw it, he could not have been more delighted. Pulling out an arrow, he stretched his bow to the fullest and shot the rabbit squarely with it.
The Great Sage, of course, had made it possible for the prince to hit him; being quick of hand and eye, he actually had caught the arrow. After dropping some of the arrow’s feathers on the ground, he turned and sped away. When the prince saw the arrow had found its mark on the rabbit, he urged his horse on to give chase all by himself. He did not realize that he was being led away deliberately: when the horse galloped, Pilgrim ran like the wind, but when the horse slowed down, Pilgrim also took up a more leisurely pace just to stay slightly ahead of him. Mile after mile it went on like this, until the prince was lured right up to the gate of the Precious Grove Monastery. Changing back into his true form (the rabbit thus disappeared and only the hawk-feathered arrow was stuck on the doorpost), Pilgrim raced inside yelling to the Tang Monk, “Master, he’s here, he’s here!” He changed again, this time into a tiny monk about two inches tall, and crawled at once into the red box.
We now tell you about the prince, who chased his prey right up to the monastery gate; he could not find the white rabbit, but he saw an eagle-plumed arrow stuck on the doorpost. Greatly startled and turning pale, the prince said, “Strange! Strange! I clearly shot the white rabbit with my arrow. How could the rabbit disappear, and only the arrow be seen here? It must be that after years and months, the rabbit has turned into a spirit.” He pulled out the arrow and raised his head to look: there on top of the gate of the monastery were written seven words in large characters, “Precious Grove Monastery Built by Imperial Command.” “Now I know,” said the prince. “Years ago my father king, I recall, did send some officials from the Hall of Golden Chimes to take some gold here so that the monks could redecorate the images and the halls. I didn’t expect that I would be here today. Truly,
