The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2

by Unknown

  We now tell you about that Pilgrim who held on to his iron rod and walked toward the stream, roaring with laughter. When Sha Monk heard him, he quickly left the woods to meet him, saying, “Elder Brother, you have been gone for nearly half a day, and you have returned laughing. Could it be that you have succeeded in rescuing Master?” “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “though I have not rescued Master, I have won a round.” “What do you mean?” asked Sha Monk. Pilgrim said, “Zhu Eight Rules, you see, was tricked by that fiend, who changed himself into the form of Guanyin. He is caught and hung now in a leather bag. I was trying to devise a plan to rescue him when I heard that these so-called six mighty commanders were sent to invite a Venerable Great King to dine on Master’s flesh. Old Monkey thought that that Great King had to be the Bull Monster King; so I changed into his form, bluffed my way in, and took the seat in the middle. The fiend called me Father King, and I answered him; he kowtowed to me, and I accepted it. It was a pleasure indeed! That was the round I won.”

  “Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “the way you covet small advantages will make it difficult, I fear, for Master’s life to be preserved.” “Don’t worry,” said Pilgrim. “Let me go and ask the Bodhisattva to come here.” “But your torso is still sore,” said Sha Monk. “Not anymore!” said Pilgrim. “The ancients said, ‘A happy affair cheers one’s spirit.’ You look after the luggage and the horse; let me go.” “You’ve given that monster a grudge against you,” said Sha Monk, “and I fear that he might harm our master. Go and come back quickly.” Pilgrim said, “I’ll come back quickly all right! In the time of a meal, I’ll be back.”

  Dear Great Sage! As he was speaking, he slipped away from Sha Monk; using his cloud somersault, he headed straight for the South Sea. It took him much less than half an hour in the air when he saw the scenery of the Potalaka Mountain. In a moment, he lowered his cloud and dropped down on the mountain cliff, where he was met by a group of twenty-four devas who asked, “Where are you going, Great Sage?” After Pilgrim bowed to them, he said, “I want to see the Bodhisattva.” “Wait a moment,” said the devas, “and let us announce you.” Then the deva Hāritī4 went before the Cave of Tidal Sound to announce, “Let the Bodhisattva know that Sun Wukong is here to have an audience with you.” When the Bodhisattva heard the announcement, she ordered him to enter. Straightening out his attire, the Great Sage walked inside solemnly and prostrated himself before the Bodhisattva.

  “Wukong, why aren’t you leading Master Gold Cicada to the West to seek scriptures?” asked the Bodhisattva. “Why are you here?”

  Pilgrim said, “Permit me to make this known to the Bodhisattva. Your disciple was accompanying the Tang Monk on his journey, when we reached the Fiery Cloud Cave by the Dried Pine Stream at the Roaring Mountain. There is a monster-spirit called Red Boy, whose name is also the Great King Holy Child, and who has abducted my master. Your disciple and Zhu Wuneng found our way to his door and fought with him. He let loose his samādhi fire and we could not prevail against him nor could we rescue Master. I went swiftly to the Great Eastern Ocean and managed to return with the Dragon Kings of the Four Oceans. They gave us rainwater, but we still could not win. In fact, your disciple was burned so badly that he almost lost his life.” The Bodhisattva said, “If his is the samādhi fire and if he has such magic powers, why did you go seek the aid of the Dragon Kings? Why did you not come see me?” “I was about to come,” said Pilgrim, “but your disciple was badly hurt by the smoke, unable to mount the clouds. I therefore told Zhu Eight Rules to come and seek the assistance of the Bodhisattva.”

  “But Wuneng never appeared,” said the Bodhisattva. “Indeed he did not reach your treasure mountain,” said Pilgrim, “for he was deceived by that monster-spirit, who changed into your image and has taken Wuneng into his cave. Right now, Wuneng is hanging in a leather bag, about to be steamed and eaten.”

  Hearing this, the Bodhisattva grew terribly angry, crying, “How dare that brazen fiend change into my image!” As she cried, she flung into the ocean the immaculate porcelain vase set with precious pearls which she held in her hand. Pilgrim was so startled that his hairs stood on end, and he stood up at once to stand in waiting down below, saying to himself, “This Bodhisattva still has quite a fiery temper! Well, old Monkey should have known better than to speak like that and provoke her into ruining her virtue by smashing the immaculate vase. What a pity! What a pity! If I had known it earlier I would have asked her to give it instead to old Monkey. That would be some gift, wouldn’t it?”

  Hardly had he finished speaking when the vase appeared again at the crest of some gigantic waves swelling up in the middle of the ocean. The vase, you see, was borne on the back of a strange creature, which Pilgrim stared at intently. How does this creature look?

  The “Helper of Mud” is his primal name,

  He adds luster to water to show his might.

  Reclusive, he knows the laws of Heav’n and Earth;

  Retired, he sees yet the mysteries of ghosts and gods.

  Safely he hides once his head and tail withdraw,

  But legs outstretched will make him fly and soar.

  As King Wen drew trigrams and Zeng Yuan divined,

  He frequented, too, the courtyards of Fu Xi.5

  His nature displays a thousand charms

  When he sports and plays in the rising tide.

  His armor’s knit by strands of golden cord;

  Spot by spot, that’s how his shell has been adorned.

  His robe shows Eight Trigrams and Nine Palaces,

  And richly ornate is his gown of green.

  Brave when he’s living—so he’s loved by Dragon Kings;

  The Buddha’s tablet he bears e’en after death.

  If you want to know this strange creature’s name,

  He’s the fierce black tortoise making winds and waves.

  Carrying the vase on his back, the tortoise climbed ashore and nodded his head at the Bodhisattva twenty-four times to indicate that he had given her twenty-four bows.

  When Pilgrim saw him, he smiled and thought to himself, “So the guardian of the vase is here. If the vase ever gets lost, I suppose we can ask him for it.” The Bodhisattva said, “Wukong, what are you saying down there?” “Nothing,” said Pilgrim. “Then bring the vase up here,” commanded the Bodhisattva. Pilgrim went forward at once to pick up the vase. Alas! He could not do so at all! It was as if a dragonfly attempted to rock a stone pillar—how could he even budge it? Pilgrim approached the Bodhisattva and knelt down, saying, “Your disciple cannot pick it up.”

  “Monkey head,” said the Bodhisattva, “all you know is how to brag! If you can’t even pick up a small vase, how can you subdue fiends and capture monsters?” “To tell you the truth, Bodhisattva,” said Pilgrim, “I might be able to do it ordinarily, but today I just can’t pick it up. I must have been hurt by the monster-spirit, and my strength has weakened.” The Bodhisattva said, “Normally it’s an empty vase, but once it has been thrown into the ocean, it has traveled through the three rivers, the five lakes, the eight seas, and the four big rivers. It has, in fact, gathered together from all the aquatic bodies in the world an oceanful of water, which is now stored inside it. You may be strong, but you don’t possess the strength of upholding the ocean. That’s why you cannot pick up the vase.” Pressing his hands together before him, Pilgrim said, “Yes, your disciple is ignorant of this.”

  Walking forward, the Bodhisattva used her right hand and picked up the immaculate vase with no effort at all and placed it on the middle of her left palm. The tortoise nodded his head again before he crawled back into the water. “So this is a coolie who serves the household and looks after the vase!” said Pilgrim. After the Bodhisattva took her seat again, she said, “Wukong, the sweet dew in my vase is not like that unauthorized rain of the Dragon Kings; it can extinguish the samādhi fire of the monster-spirit. I want you to take it with you, but you are unable to pick up the vase. I want the Dragon Girl Skilled in Wealth to go with you
, but I fear that you are not a person of kindly disposition. All you know is how to hoodwink people. When you see how beautiful my Dragon Girl is, and what a treasure is my immaculate vase, you will try to steal it. If you succeed, where would I find time to go look for you? You’d better leave something behind as a pledge.”

  “How pitiful!” said Pilgrim. “Bodhisattva, you are so suspicious! Since your disciple embraced complete poverty, he has never indulged in such activities. You tell me to leave a pledge, what shall I use? This silk shirt on my body is a gift from you. And this tiger-skin skirt, how much can it be worth? The iron rod—well, I need it for protection night and day. Only this little fillet on my head is made of gold, but you used some tricks to make it grow on my head so that it could not be taken down. If you want a pledge, I’m willing now to give that to you as a pledge. You can recite a Loose-Fillet Spell and remove it from me. Otherwise, what shall I use as a pledge?” “You are rather smug, aren’t you?” said the Bodhisattva. “I don’t want your clothes, your iron rod, or your gold fillet. Pull off one strand of that lifesaving hair behind your head and give it to me.” Pilgrim said, “These hairs were also your gift; I fear that if I pull one off, they will be broken up in such a way that they will no longer be able to save my life.” “You ape!” scolded the Bodhisattva. “You are so stingy that you won’t even uproot one hair!6 That makes it difficult for me also to dispense my Goodly Wealth!” Laughing, Pilgrim said, “Bodhisattva, you are truly suspicious! But as the saying goes, ‘If you don’t have regard for the monk, at least have regard for the Buddha.’ I beg you to save my master from his ordeal.” Then the Bodhisattva

  Freely and gladly left the lotus seat

  And walked up the rocky cliff with scented steps.

  Since the holy monk was threatened with harm,

  She would subdue the fiend and give him help.

  Highly pleased, the Great Sage Sun followed Guanyin out of the Tidal Sound Cave, as the various devas stood at attention on the Potalaka Peak. “Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “let’s cross the ocean.” Pilgrim bowed and said, “Let the Bodhisattva go first.” “You go first,” said the Bodhisattva. Kowtowing, Pilgrim said, “Your disciple dares not display his power before the Bodhisattva. If I use the cloud somersault, my clothes may flip up and reveal my body, and I fear that the Bodhisattva will take offense at my irreverence.”

  When the Bodhisattva heard these words, she told the Dragon Girl Skilled in Wealth to pick from the lotus pond one petal of lotus flower and drop it into the ocean below the mountain ridge. Then she said to Pilgrim, “Get up on that lotus flower petal and I’ll send you across the ocean.” Seeing the flower, Pilgrim said, “Bodhisattva, this petal of flower is so light and thin. How could it bear me up? I’ll tumble into the water for sure, and won’t my tiger-skin kilt be soaked? If it loses its tan, how can I wear it when the weather turns cold?” “Get up there and see what happens!” shouted the Bodhisattva. Not daring to disobey, Pilgrim risked his life and jumped onto the flower. At first, it did seem rather light and small, but when he alighted on it, he found that the flower was actually somewhat larger than a small boat. Delighted, Pilgrim said, “Bodhisattva, it should hold me.” “In that case,” said the Bodhisattva, “why can’t you cross the ocean?” Pilgrim said, “There is neither pole nor oar, neither sail nor mast. How could I cross the ocean?” “No need for that,” said the Bodhisattva, who blew a mouthful of air lightly onto the lotus flower and immediately it drifted away from the shore. Another breath of the Bodhisattva sent Pilgrim across the bitter sea of the Southern Ocean7 until he reached the other shore. When his feet touched solid ground again, Pilgrim laughed and said, “This Bodhisattva truly knows how to display her powers! She’s able to summon old Monkey hither and thither with no effort at all!”

  The Bodhisattva then gave instructions for all the devas each to stand guard in his station, and for the Dragon Girl Skilled in Wealth to shut the gate of the cave. Mounting the auspicious cloud, she departed from the Potalaka Peak. When she reached the backside of the mountain, she called out, “Hui’an, where are you?” Hui’an, you see, whose common name was Mokṣa, happened to be the second prince of the Pagoda Bearer Devarāja Li, and he, as the pupil taught personally by the Bodhisattva, never strayed from her side. His name was Disciple Hui’an, the Dharma Guardian. Pressing his hands together before him, Hui’an bowed to the Bodhisattva, who said to him, “Go quickly to the Region Above and borrow the Swords of Constellations from your Father King.” “How many swords do you want, Teacher?” asked Hui’an. “The entire set,” said the Bodhisattva.

  Obeying her command, Hui’an mounted the clouds and went through the South Heaven Gate to reach the Palace of Cloudy Towers. He kowtowed to his Father King, who asked him, “Why has my son come here?” Mokṣa replied, “Sun Wukong came to ask my teacher to subdue a fiend; she in turn told your child to borrow the Swords of Constellations from Father King.” The devarāja at once asked Naṭa to take out the swords, all thirty-six of them, to hand over to Mokṣa, who said to Naṭa, “Brother, please go and bow to mother. I have urgent business; when I return the swords, I shall kowtow to her then.” They parted hurriedly; Mokṣa mounted the auspicious luminosity and returned to South Sea, where he presented the swords to the Bodhisattva.

  After she received them, the Bodhisattva threw them into the air as she recited a spell: the swords were transformed into a thousand-leaf lotus platform. Leaping up, the Bodhisattva sat solemnly in the middle. On one side, Pilgrim snickered to himself, “This Bodhisattva is so prudent and penurious! In that pond of hers she has her own five-colored treasure lotus platform, but she can’t bear to use it. She has to borrow someone else’s things!” “Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “stop talking! Follow me!” They all mounted the clouds and left the ocean, the white cockatoo flying ahead while Great Sage Sun and Hui’an followed from behind.

  In a moment, they reached the peak of a mountain. “This is the Roaring Mountain,” said Pilgrim, “and from here to the door of the monster-spirit is a distance of approximately four hundred miles.” When the Bodhisattva heard this, she lowered her auspicious cloud and recited a spell that began with the letter, Oṁ. At once, various deities and demons appeared from the left and right of the mountain, all local spirits and mountain deities of the region. They came to kowtow before the Bodhisattva’s treasure lotus seat. “Don’t be alarmed, all of you,” said the Bodhisattva. “I’m here to seize this demon king, but I want you all to sweep this area clean. Not a single living creature is to remain within three hundred miles around here. Take the small beasts in their lairs, the young creatures in their nests, and send them up to the peak so that their lives may be preserved.” The various deities obeyed and left; they returned momentarily to report that their work was done.

  The Bodhisattva said, “If the region is cleared, all of you may return to your shrines.” She turned her immaculate vase upside down and all at once a torrent of water thundered forth. Truly it

  Surged over the summit,

  And dashed over stone walls.

  Surging over the summit it seemed the swelling sea;

  Dashing over stone walls it seemed the vast ocean.

  Black mists arose, damping the entire sky;

  Green waves reflecting the sun beamed chilly light.

  The whole cliff gushed jadelike sprays;

  The whole sea sprouted gold lotus.

  The Bodhisattva let loose her awesome might,

  Her sleeve revealed the Dharmakāya of Chan.8

  This place was changed to Potalaka’s scene,

  Truly a perfect image of South Sea.

  Udumbara bloomed from lovely rushes;

  Fresh palmyra leaves spread from scented grass.

  On purple bamboos the cockatoo paused;

  Amid some green pines red partridges called.

  Waves ten thousand fold and lotus all around,

  Hear the wind roar, the water surging up to Heav’n.

  When the Great S
age Sun saw this, he marveled to himself, “Truly a Bodhisattva of great mercy and compassion! If old Monkey had this kind of dharma power, he would simply pour the little vase on the mountain. Who cares about fowls and beasts, crawling or winged creatures?” “Wukong,” cried the Bodhisattva, “stretch forth your hand.” Hurriedly rolling up his sleeve, Pilgrim stretched out his left hand. The Bodhisattva pulled out a twig of her willow branch after having dipped it in the sweet dew of her vase and wrote on his palm the word “Delusion.” She said to him, “Hold your fist and go quickly to provoke battle with the monster-spirit. You are permitted not to win but to lose; let him defeat you and chase you back here. I have my power to subdue him.”

  Obeying the instruction, Pilgrim turned his cloudy luminosity and headed straight for the entrance of the cave. Holding his left hand in a fist and the iron rod with his right, he shouted, “Fiends, open the door!” Those little fiends again went inside to report, “Pilgrim Sun is here again.” “Shut the door tightly,” said the monster king, “and don’t mind him.” “Dear boy!” shouted Pilgrim. “You chased your old man out the door, and you still wouldn’t open up!” The little fiends reported again: “Pilgrim Sun is using that little something to insult you.” All the monster said was, “Don’t listen to him!” After he had shouted for a couple of times and found the door still tightly shut, Pilgrim became enraged. He lifted the iron rod and with one blow punched a big hole in the door. The little fiends were so terrified that they ran inside, crying, “Pilgrim Sun has smashed our door!” When the monster king heard these reports and discovered that the front door was smashed, he bounded out the door and, holding the lance, yelled at Pilgrim, “You ape! You really don’t know when to stop! I let you take some advantage of me and you are still not content. You dare come again to oppress me by smashing my door. What sort of punishment should you receive?” “My child,” said Pilgrim, “you dare chase your old man out your door. What sort of punishment should you receive?”