The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2

by Unknown

  Swiftly mounting his horse, the prince went out of the Rear Gate of the Servants and slipped away from the city. Truly

  Holding back his tears, he kowtowed to leave the queen;

  In grief he went to bow again to the Tang Monk.

  In a little while, he was out of the city gate and went straight to the gate of the Precious Grove Monastery, where he dismounted. As the soldiers came to receive him, the sun began to set. The prince gave the order for the soldiers to remain where they were stationed. Again by himself, he walked inside after straightening out his clothes to solicit Pilgrim’s assistance.

  Just then the Monkey King swaggered out from the main hall, and the prince at once went to his knees, saying, “Master, I’ve returned.” Pilgrim went forward to raise him, saying, “Please rise. Did you ask anyone when you reached the city?” “I did,” said the prince, and he gave a complete account of the conversation with his mother. Smiling gently, Pilgrim said, “If he is that cold, he must be the transformation of some kind of coldblooded creature. Don’t worry! Don’t worry! Let old Monkey get rid of him for you. But it’s getting late now, and I can’t move. You go back first, and I’ll arrive tomorrow morning.” Kowtowing repeatedly, the prince said, “Master, I’ll stay here to wait upon you until tomorrow, and then I can travel with you.” “That’s no good,” said Pilgrim. “If we enter the city together, the fiend would become suspicious; instead of a chance meeting, he’ll think that you have gone somewhere especially to fetch me. The whole arrangement will make him blame you, will it not?” “Even if I go back now,” said the prince, “he will still blame me.” “Why?” asked Pilgrim. The prince said, “I was commanded during the early court to lead this number of men and horses, of falcons and dogs, to leave the city. But when I go back today, I have no game to present to the throne. If he accuses me of being incapable and has me jailed in Youli,2 whom would you rely on when you enter the city in the morning? There is no one, after all, in the ranks who knows about this.”

  “That’s nothing!” said Pilgrim. “You should have told me earlier about this, and I’d have found some game.” Dear Great Sage! Look at the way he shows off before the prince! With a bound he leaped straight up to the clouds, made the magic sign, and recited the spell, Let Oṃ and Ram purify the Dharma-realm, which summoned a mountain god and a local spirit. They arrived and bowed to him in midair, saying, “Great Sage, what is your wish when you command these humble deities to appear?” Pilgrim said, “Old Monkey arrives here in the company of the Tang Monk, and he now intends to catch a wicked demon. Unfortunately, the prince did not catch any game during the hunt and he dared not return to the court. I am, therefore, going to ask you for a small favor. Please find for us some fallow deer, antelopes, wild hares, and fowls—a few pieces of each kind—so that we can send him off.” Not daring to disobey when they heard this instruction, the mountain god and the local spirit inquired as to how many heads of wild game were needed. “It doesn’t matter,” said the Great Sage, “just bring us some.” The two deities, leading the demon soldiers under their command, called up a strong gust of dark wind to round up the wild animals. They caught some grouse and pheasants; horned deer and fat fallow deer; foxes, badgers, and hares; tigers, leopards, and wolves—all in all, several hundred of these which they brought before Pilgrim. Pilgrim said, “Old Monkey has no need of these. Pull out their leg tendons and place them on both sides of the forty-mile road leading back to the city. Those people will then be able to take them back without having to use falcons and dogs, and this will be counted as your merit.” The deities obeyed; calming the dark wind, they placed the game beside the road.

  Pilgrim dropped down from the clouds and said to the prince, “Your Highness, please go back. There is game on the road that you may collect.” After having seen the kind of power Pilgrim displayed on top of the clouds, the prince had no doubts whatever. He kowtowed to take leave of Pilgrim before walking out of the monastery gate to order the soldiers to return to the city. As they journeyed, they found indeed a large number of wild game laid out on both sides of the road. Without releasing falcons and dogs, the soldiers caught them by merely lifting their hands. All of them, therefore, shouted bravos and congratulated the prince, saying that it was his great luck that brought them the game, but not knowing, of course, that it was the might of old Monkey. Listen to their songs of triumph as they proceeded back to the city!

  Pilgrim, meanwhile, returned to protect Tripitaka. When those monks in the monastery saw how intimate the pilgrims had become with the prince, how could they dare not be reverent? They again prepared a vegetarian meal to serve to the Tang Monk, who then rested once more in the Zen hall. By about the hour of the first watch, Pilgrim, who had something on his mind, was unable to fall asleep. Rolling off his bed, he dashed up to the Tang Monk and cried, “Master.” The elder at this time actually was not yet asleep, but knowing that Pilgrim could be rather restless and frenetic, he pretended that he was and did not respond. Pilgrim caught hold of his bald head and started to shake it violently, crying, “Master, how is it that you are already asleep?”

  “You rascal!” said the Tang Monk, growing angry. “You aren’t going to sleep at this hour? What are you clamoring for?”

  “Master,” said Pilgrim, “I have a little matter that I want to discuss with you.” “What matter?” asked the elder.

  Pilgrim said, “During the day I boasted to the prince that my abilities were higher than a mountain and greater than an ocean. To catch that monster-spirit, I said, was as easy as reaching for something in my pocket—all I had to do was to stretch forth my hand and take it. Now I can’t sleep, and when I think about the matter, I find that there’s some difficulty.”

  “If you say that it’s going to be difficult,” said the Tang Monk, “then let’s not try to catch him.” “We still have to,” said Pilgrim, “but we cannot justify our action.” The Tang Monk said, “This ape is babbling again! The monster-spirit has usurped the throne of a ruler. What do you mean that we cannot justify our action?”

  Pilgrim said, “Your venerable self only knows how to recite sūtras and worship Buddha, how to sit and meditate. Since when have you ever seen the legal codes established by Xiao He?3 The proverb says, ‘If you arrest a thief, you must seize him with the stolen goods.’ That fiend has been a king for three years, but he has not permitted his secret to leak out in any way. He has slept with the ladies of the three palaces, and he has ruled amiably with his two rows of civil and military officials. Even if old Monkey has the ability to arrest him, it will not be easy to convict him of his crime.”

  “Why not?” asked the Tang Monk. Pilgrim said, “Even if he is a mouth-less gourd, he will have a row with you for awhile. Can’t you hear him? ‘I’m the king of the Black Rooster Kingdom. What offense against Heaven have I committed that you dare come to arrest me?’ What evidence do I have with which I can argue with him?” “What do you plan to do, then?” said the Tang Monk.

  With a chuckle, Pilgrim said, “The plan of old Monkey is already made, but one obstacle I have to face right now is that you, Dear Sir, have a tendency to dote on people.” “What do you mean?” asked the Tang Monk. Pilgrim said, “Eight Rules is rather stupid, but you are somewhat partial to him.” “How am I partial to him?” asked the Tang Monk. “If you are not,” said Pilgrim, “then you should try to be more courageous and stay here with Sha Monk. Let old Monkey and Eight Rules take this opportunity now to go into the Black Rooster Kingdom first and find the imperial garden. We will break open the marble well and fish out the corpse of the true king, which we will wrap in our bags. When we enter the city tomorrow, we won’t bother with having our rescript certified; as soon as we see the fiend, I’ll attack him with my rod. If he has anything to say, we’ll show him the skeleton and tell him, ‘You killed this man!’ We can tell the prince to come out and mourn his father, the queen to give recognition to her husband, and the various officials to see their true lord. Old Monkey and the brothers, meanwhile,
can lift our hands to fight. Now, that’s what I call a worthwhile litigation because there’s something we can go on!”

  Secretly pleased by what he heard, the Tang Monk nevertheless said, “My only fear is that Eight Rules is unwilling to go with you.” “You see!” said Pilgrim, laughing. “I told you that you doted on him! How did you know that he would be unwilling to go? Perhaps you think that he’ll be like you when I called you just now, and after half an hour, I would give up. But watch me! If you let me go near him, I’ll use only my healthy, three-inch tongue to persuade him. Never mind that he is Zhu Eight Rules; even if he were Zhu Nine Rules, I would have the ability to make him go with me.” “All right,” said the Tang Monk, “you may go and rouse him.”

  Walking away from his master, Pilgrim went straight up to the side of Eight Rules’s bed and shouted, “Eight Rules! Eight Rules!” Idiot, after all, was a man overcome by travel fatigue: once he put his head down, he snored so hard that nothing could wake him. Pilgrim finally grabbed his ears and took hold of his bristles; giving a terrific pull, he yanked Eight Rules right up while shouting, “Eight Rules!” Idiot was still shuddering when Pilgrim hollered again. Idiot mumbled, “Let’s sleep! Don’t play around! We have to travel tomorrow.” “I’m not playing,” said Pilgrim. “There’s some business that you and I must attend to.”

  “What business?” asked Eight Rules. Pilgrim said, “Did you happen to hear what the prince said?” “I haven’t even seen him,” said Eight Rules. “I haven’t heard what he had to say.” “The prince told me,” said Pilgrim, “that that monster-spirit had in his possession a treasure that could overwhelm ten thousand warriors. When we enter the city tomorrow, we can’t avoid doing battle with him; but if that fiend brings out his treasure and defeats us, that won’t be good. So, I thought that if we couldn’t vanquish him, we should do something first. You and I, in fact, should go and steal his treasure. Isn’t that much better?” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “you are trying to persuade me to be a thief! Well, I know this sort of business, so I can be your customer. But let me say this to you clearly first: when we have stolen the treasure and subdued the monster-spirit, I won’t put up with this niggardly practice of dividing the loot. I’m going to keep the treasure.” “What for?” asked Pilgrim. “I’m not eloquent like all of you,” said Eight Rules, “and it’s not easy for me to beg for food. This body of old Hog is sluggish, and his words are dull. Moreover, I can’t even recite sūtras. When I get to those wild, uninhabited places, I have hopes that I can exchange the treasure for food.” Pilgrim said, “Old Monkey is only concerned with acquiring a reputation, not a treasure. Of course I’ll give it to you.” When Idiot heard that it was to be given to him, he was delighted and scrambled up at once. Climbing into his clothes, he left with Pilgrim. Truly as the saying goes:

  Even clear wine reddens a man’s face,

  And yellow gold moves the mind of Dao.

  The two of them opened the door stealthily and slipped away from Tripitaka; mounting the auspicious luminosity, they headed straight for the city.

  In a little while, they reached their destination; as they lowered their clouds, they heard the sound of the second watch struck from a tower. “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “it’s the second watch.” “Just right!” said Eight Rules. “Everybody is sleeping soundly inside.” Instead of heading for the Central Gate of the Sun, the two of them went to the Rear Gate of the Servants, where they heard also the sound of the rattle struck by guards on patrol. “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “the front and rear gates are all tightly guarded. How can we get in?” Eight Rules said, “Have you ever seen a thief walking through a door? Let’s just jump over the wall.” Pilgrim agreed and leaped at once onto the palace wall, followed by Eight Rules. Sneaking inside, the two of them searched for their way to the imperial garden.

  As they walked along, they came upon a towered gate with triple eaves and flying white banners. Painted on top of the gate were three large words that were luminescent in the light of the stars and moon: “The Imperial Garden.” When Pilgrim drew near and saw that the gate was locked and sealed with several layers of crossed strips of paper, he told Eight Rules to go to work. Idiot lifted up his iron rake and brought it down on the gate as hard as he could: the gate was pulverized at once. Pilgrim led the way to enter the garden, but no sooner had he stepped inside when he began to jump up and down, whooping and howling. Eight Rules was so startled that he ran forward to tug at him, saying, “Elder Brother, you scare me to death! I have never seen a thief bellowing like that! If you wake up the people and they catch us and send us to court, even if we are not executed we would be banished to our native province for military service.”

  “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “you may wonder why I’m making such a fuss. Just look at those

  Carved and painted railings in ruin;

  Bejeweled sheds and towers crumbling;

  Banks of sedges and smart-weeds all buried in dirt;

  Peonia and tumi4 both wilted.

  The scent of jasmines and roses is slight;

  Tree-peonias and lilies bloom vainly.

  Hibiscus, a few kinds, give way to bushes and shrubs;

  Rare flowers and plants all perish.

  Artificial rock mountains collapse;

  Ponds dry up and fishes decline.

  Green pines, purple bamboos—they’re like dried firewood;

  Wormwood and artemisia grow rank on the paths.

  From cassia and peach trees twigs break off;

  Roots of pear and plum trees are upturned.

  There’s green moss on the bridge-head’s winding path:

  The scene of this garden’s desolate!”5

  “Why waste your breath in this lamentation?” said Eight Rules. “Let’s go finish our business quickly.” Though Pilgrim was saddened by what he saw, he also thought of the dream of the Tang Monk, when he was told that the well could be found only beneath a plantain tree. As they walked along, they saw indeed such a tree, whose luxuriant growth was quite different from the other plants. Truly she is

  A fine, spiritual root of a kind,

  Her empty self’s6 Heaven-endowed.

  Every branch is thin like paper;

  Every leaf can fold like a petal;

  A thousand fine strands of green

  Enclose one cinnabar heart within.

  She grieves when saddened by night rain

  And droops for fear of autumn’s wind.

  She grows in the primal strength of Heav’n;

  Her nurture’s the work of Creation.

  A parchment forms her wondrous usage;

  As a fan she makes rare merit.

  How could phoenix plumes approximate her?

  Could e’en phoenix tails resemble her?

  Bathed in droplets of light dew,

  Swathed in slender wisps of smoke,

  Her green shade shrouds windows and doors;

  Her green shadow mounts curtains and screens.

  Wild geese aren’t allowed to perch here,

  Nor may horses be tied to her.

  A frigid sky will make her dejected,

  A moonlit night her colors faint.

  She can only dispel high heat

  And protects from the scorching sun.

  Bashful for lacking the peach and pear’s charm,

  She stands alone east of the white wall.

  “Eight Rules,” said Pilgrim, “let’s get started. The treasure’s buried beneath the plantain tree.” Idiot lifted his rake with both hands and toppled the plantain tree, after which he used his snout to burrow into the ground. After digging up some three or four feet of dirt, he discovered a slab of stone. Delighted, Idiot said, “Elder Brother, we’re lucky! There’s indeed a treasure here, covered by a slab of stone. I wonder if it’s contained in a jar or a box.”

  “Lift the stone up and take a look,” said Pilgrim.

  Idiot indeed used his snout to give the slab of stone a shove; immediately, glimmering shafts of ligh
t shot up. Laughing, Eight Rules said, “Lucky! Lucky! The treasure’s glowing.” He went forward to take another careful look and saw that it was actually the glow of the stars and moon reflected in the water of a well. “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “when you want to do something, you ought to get to the bottom of it.” “How so?” asked Pilgrim. Eight Rules said, “This is a well. If you had told me in the monastery that the treasure would be found in a well, I would have brought along those two ropes we use to tie our bags. Then we would have been able to find a way to lower old Hog down there. Now we’re empty-handed. How could we go down there to fetch the thing up here?” “You want to go down there?” asked Pilgrim. “Of course,” said Eight Rules, “but we have no ropes.” “Take off your clothes,” said Pilgrim, “and I’ll give you the means.” Eight Rules said, “I don’t have any good clothes! All I have to do is untie this shirt.”