The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2

by Unknown

  “Grand-Masters,” he screamed as he pounded on the door, “It’s terrible! Disaster!” The three old Daoists had not yet fallen asleep. They opened the door to ask, “What disaster?” Trembling all over, the young Daoist said, “Your disciple left behind his handbell, and he went to the main hall to search for it. I heard someone roaring with laughter, and it almost frightened me to death.” When the old Daoists heard these words, they cried, “Bring some light. Let’s see what kind of perverse creature is around.” The Daoists sleeping along the two corridors, old and young, were all aroused, and they at once scrambled up to the main hall with lamps and torches. We do not know what was the result; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.

  FORTY-FIVE

  At the Three Pure Ones Abbey the Great Sage leaves his name;

  At the Cart Slow Kingdom the Monkey King shows his power.

  We now tell you about the Great Sage Sun, who used his left hand to give Sha Monk a pinch, and his right to give Zhu Eight Rules a pinch. Immediately understanding what he meant, the two of them fell silent and sat with lowered faces on their high seats. They allowed those Daoists to examine them back and front with uplifted lamps and torches, but the three of them seemed no more than idols made of clay and adorned with gold.

  “There are no thieves around,” said the Tiger-Strength Immortal, “but then, why are all the offerings eaten?”

  “It definitely looks as if humans have eaten them,” said the Deer-Strength Immortal. “Look how the fruits are skinned and their stones spat out. Why is it that we don’t see any human form?”

  “Don’t be too suspicious, Elder Brothers,” said the Goat-Strength Immortal. “I think that our piety and sincerity of reciting scriptures and saying prayers here night and day, all in the name of the court, must have aroused the Celestial Worthies. The Venerable Fathers of the Three Pure Ones, I suppose, must have descended to earth and consumed these offerings. Why don’t we take advantage of the fact that their holy train and crane carriages are still here and make supplication to the Celestial Worthies? We should beg for some golden elixir and holy water with which we may present His Majesty. Wouldn’t his long life and perpetual youth be in fact our merit?”

  “You are right,” said the Tiger-Strength Immortal. “Disciples, start the music and recite the scriptures. Bring us our ritual robes. Let me tread the stars to make our supplication.” Those little Daoists all obeyed and lined themselves up on both sides. At the sound of the gong, they all recited in unison the scroll of True Scriptures of the Yellow Court. After having put on his ritual robe, the Tiger-Strength Immortal held high his jade tablet and began to kick up the dust with dancing. Intermittently he would fall to the ground and prostrate himself. Then he intoned this petition:

  “In fear and dread,

  We bow most humbly.

  To stir up our faith

  We seek Purity.

  Vile priests we quell

  To honor the Way.

  This hall we build

  The king to obey.

  Dragon flags we raise,

  And off’rings display;

  Torches by night,

  Incense by day.

  One thought sincere

  Doth Heaven sway.

  Chariots divine

  Now come to stay.

  Grant unto us some elixir and holy water,

  Which we may give to His Majesty

  That he may gain longevity.”

  When Eight Rules heard these words, he was filled with apprehension. “This is our fault! We’ve eaten the goods and should be on our way. Now, how shall we answer such supplication?” Pilgrim gave him another pinch before suddenly opening his mouth and speaking out loud, “You immortals of a younger generation, please stop your recitation. We have just returned from the Festival of Immortal Peaches, and we have not brought along any golden elixir or holy water. In another day we shall come to bestow them on you.” When those Daoists, old and young, heard that the image had actually spoken, every one of them trembled violently till even their garments quaked. “O Fathers!” they cried, “the living Celestial Worthies have descended to earth. We must not let them go. We must insist on their giving us some sort of magic formula for eternal youth.”

  Then the Deer-Strength Immortal went forward also to prostrate himself and intone this supplication:

  “Our heads to the dust,

  We pray earnestly.

  Your subjects submit

  To the Pure Ones Three.

  Since we came here,

  The Way was set free.

  The king is pleased

  To seek longevity.

  This Heavenly Mass

  Chants scriptures nightly.

  We thank the Celestial Worthies

  For revealing their presence holy.

  O hear our prayers!

  We seek your glory!

  Do leave some holy water behind,

  That your disciples long life may find!”

  Sha Monk gave Pilgrim a pinch and whispered fiercely, “Elder Brother! They are at it again! Just listen to the prayer!” “All right,” said Pilgrim, “let’s give them something.” “Where could we find it?” muttered Eight Rules. “Just watch me,” said Pilgrim, “and when you see that I have it, you’ll have it too!” After those Daoists had finished their music and their prayers, Pilgrim again spoke out loud, “You immortals of a younger generation, there’s no need for your bowing and praying any longer. I am rather reluctant to leave you some holy water, but I fear then that our posterity will die out. If I gave you some, however, it would seem to be too easy a boon.” When those Daoists heard these words, they all prostrated themselves and kowtowed. “We beseech the Celestial Worthies to have regard for the reverence of your disciples,” they cried, “and we beg you to leave us some. We shall proclaim far and near the Way and Virtue. We shall memorialize to the king to give added honors to the Gate of Mystery.” “In that case,” said Pilgrim, “bring us some vessels.” The Daoists all touched their heads to the ground to give thanks. Being the greediest, the Tiger-Strength Immortal hauled in a huge cistern and placed it in the hall. The Deer-Strength Immortal fetched an earthenware garden vase and put it on top of the offering table. The Goat-Strength Immortal pulled out the flowers from a flowerpot and placed it in the middle of the other two vessels. Then Pilgrim said to them, “Now leave the hall and close the shutters so that the Heavenly mysteries will not be seen by profane eyes. We shall leave you some holy water.” The Daoists retreated from the hall and closed the doors, after which they all prostrated themselves before the vermilion steps.

  Pilgrim stood up at once and, lifting up his tiger-skin kilt, filled the flowerpot with his stinking urine. Delighted by what he saw, Zhu Eight Rules said, “Elder Brother, you and I have been brothers these few years but we have never had fun like this before. Since I gorged myself just now, I have been feeling the urge to do this.” Lifting up his clothes, our Idiot let loose such a torrent that it sounded as if the Lüliang Cascade1 had crashed onto some wooden boards! He pissed till he filled the whole garden vase. Sha Monk, too, left behind half a cistern. They then straightened their clothes and resumed their seats solemnly before they called out, “Little ones, receive your holy water.”

  Pushing open the shutters, those Daoists kowtowed repeatedly to give thanks. They carried the cistern out first, and then they poured the contents of the vase and the pot into the bigger vessel, mixing the liquids together. “Disciples,” said the Tiger-Strength Immortal, “bring me a cup so that I can have a taste.” A young Daoist immediately fetched a teacup and handed it to the old Daoist. After bailing out a cup of it and gulping down a huge mouthful, the old Daoist kept wiping his mouth and puckering his lips. “Elder Brother,” said the Deer-Strength Immortal, “is it good?” “Not very good,” said the old Daoist, his lips still pouted, “the flavor is quite potent!” “Let me try it also,” said the Goat-Strength Immortal, and he, too, downed a mouthful. Immediately he said, “It smells some
what like hog urine!” Sitting high above them and hearing this remark, Pilgrim knew that he could no longer fool them. He thought to himself, “I might as well display my abilities and leave them our names too.” He cried out in a loud voice,

  “O Daoists, Daoists,

  You are so silly!

  Which Three Pure Ones

  Would be so worldly?

  Let our true names

  Be told most clearly.

  Monks of the Great Tang

  Go West by decree.

  We come to your place

  This fine night carefree.

  Your offerings eaten,

  We sit and play.

  Your bows and greetings

  How could we repay?

  That was no holy water you drank.

  ’Twas only the urine we pissed that stank!”

  The moment the Daoists heard this, they barred the door. Picking up pitchforks, rakes, brooms, tiles, rocks, and whatever else they could put their hands on, they sent these hurtling inside the main hall to attack the impostors. Dear Pilgrim! Using his left hand to catch hold of Sha Monk and his right to take hold of Eight Rules, he crashed out of the door and mounted the cloudy luminosity to go straight back to the Wisdom Depth Monastery. When they arrived at the abbot’s residence, they dared not disturb their master; each went to bed quietly and slept until the third quarter of the fifth watch. At that time, of course, the king began to hold his morning court, where two rows of civil and military officials—some four hundred of them—stood at attention. You see

  Bright lamps and torches midst purple gauze;

  Fragrant clouds rising from treasure tripods.

  As soon as Tripitaka Tang woke up, he said, “Disciples, help me to go and have our travel rescript certified.” Rising quickly, Pilgrim, Sha Monk, and Eight Rules slipped on their clothes and stood to one side to wait on their master. They said, “Let it be known to our master that this king truly believes only the Daoists and is eager to exalt the Way and to exterminate the Buddhists. We fear that any ill-spoken word may cause him to refuse to certify our rescript. Let us therefore accompany Master to enter the court.”

  Highly pleased, the Tang Monk draped the brocaded cassock on himself while Pilgrim took out the travel rescript; Wujing was told to hold the alms bowl and Wuneng to take up the priestly staff. The luggage and the horse were placed in the care of the monks of the Wisdom Depth Monastery. They went before the Five-Phoenix Tower and saluted the Custodian of the Yellow Gate. Having identified themselves, they declared that they were scripture pilgrims from the Great Tang in the Land of the East, who wished to have their travel rescript certified and would therefore like the custodian to announce their arrival. The official of the gate went at once into court and prostrated himself before the golden steps to memorialize to the king, saying, “There are four Buddhist monks outside who claim that they are scripture pilgrims from the Great Tang in the Land of the East. They wish to have their travel rescript certified, and they now await Your Majesty’s decree before the Five-Phoenix Tower.”

  When the king heard this, he said, “These monks have nowhere to court death and, of all places, they have to do it here! Why didn’t our constables arrest them at once and bring them here?” A Grand Preceptor before the throne stepped forward and said, “The Great Tang in the Land of the East is located in the South Jambūdvīpa Continent; it’s the great nation of China, some ten thousand miles from here. As the way is infested with monsters and fiends, these monks must have considerable magic powers or they would not dare undertake this westward journey. I implore Your Majesty to invite them in and certify their rescript so that they may proceed, for the sake of the fact that they are the distant monks from China and for the sake of not destroying any goodly affinity.”

  The king gave his consent and summoned the Tang Monk and his followers before the Hall of Golden Chimes. After master and disciples arrived before the steps, they presented the rescript to the king. The king opened the document and was about to read it, when the Custodian of the Yellow Gate appeared to announce, “The three Preceptors of State have arrived.” The king was so flustered that he put away the rescript hurriedly and left the dragon seat. After having ordered his attendants to set out some embroidered cushions, he bent his body to receive his visitors. When Tripitaka and his followers turned around to look, they saw those three great immortals swagger in, followed by a young acolyte with two tousled pigtails. Not daring even to lift their eyes, the two rows of officials all bowed deeply as they walked by. After they ascended the Hall of Golden Chimes, they did not even bother to salute the king.

  “State Preceptors,” said the king, “we have not invited you. How is it that you are pleased to visit us today?” “We have something to tell you,” said one of the old Daoists, “and that’s why we’re here. Those four monks down there, where do they come from?” The king said, “They were sent by the Great Tang in the Land of the East to fetch scriptures, and they presented themselves here to have their travel rescript certified.” Clapping their hands together, the three Daoists burst out laughing and said, “We thought they had fled. So they are still here!” Somewhat startled, the king said, “What do you mean, Preceptors? When we first heard of their arrival, we wanted to arrest them and send them to serve you, had not our Grand Preceptor on duty intervened and presented a most reasonable memorial. Since we had regard for the fact that they had traveled a great distance, and since we did not wish to destroy our goodly affinity with China, we summoned them in here to verify their rescript. We did not expect you to raise any question about them. Could it be that they have offended you in some way?”

  “Your Majesty wouldn’t know about this,” said one of the Daoists, chuckling. “Hardly had they arrived yesterday when they slew two of our disciples outside the eastern gate. The five hundred Buddhist prisoners were all released and the cart was smashed to pieces. As if that weren’t enough, they sneaked into our temple last night, vandalized the holy images of the Three Pure Ones, and devoured all the imperial offerings. We were fooled by them at first, thinking that the Celestial Worthies had descended to Earth. We therefore even asked them to give us some golden elixir and holy water with which we might present Your Majesty, so that you would be blessed with eternal youth. We hardly expected that they would trick us by leaving us their urine. We found out all right, after each of us had tasted a mouthful! Just when we were about to seize them, they managed to escape. We didn’t think that they would dare remain here today. As the proverb says, ‘The road for fated enemies is narrow indeed’!”

  When the king heard this, he became so irate that he would have had the four priests executed at once. Pressing his palms together, the Great Sage Sun cried out in a loud voice, saying, “Your Majesty, let your thunderlike wrath subside for the moment and permit this monk to present his memorial.” “You offended the State Preceptors!” said the king. “Do you dare imply that their words might be erroneous?” Pilgrim said, “He claimed that yesterday we slaughtered two of his disciples outside the city. But who could be a witness? Even if we were to confess to this crime, and that would be a gross injustice, only two of us need be asked to pay with our lives, and two of us should be released so that we might proceed to acquire the scriptures. He claimed further that we wrecked their cart and released their Buddhist prisoners. Again, there is no witness, and moreover, this is hardly a mortal offense and only one of us should be punished for this if it were true. Finally, he charged us with vandalizing the images of the Three Pure Ones and causing disturbance in their temple. This is clearly a trap they set for us.” “How could you say that it’s a trap?” asked the king.

  “We monks are from the Land of the East,” said Pilgrim, “and we’ve just arrived in this region. We can’t even tell one street from another. How could we know about the affairs of their temple, and at night no less? If we could leave them our urine, they should have been able to arrest us right then and there. Why did they wait until this morning to accuse us? In this
whole wide world, there are countless people who use false identities. How could they know for certain that we are guilty? I beg Your Majesty to withhold your anger and make a thorough investigation.” The king, after all, had always been rather muddle-headed. When he heard this lengthy speech by Pilgrim, he became more confused than ever.

  Just then, the Custodian of the Yellow Gate again came to make this announcement: “Your Majesty, there are outside the gate many village elders who await your summons.” “For what reason?” asked the king. He ordered them brought in, and thirty or forty village elders came before the hall. “Your Majesty,” they said as they kowtowed, “there has been no rain this year for the entire spring, and we fear that there will be a famine if it remains dry like this through summer. We have come especially to request that one of the Holy Fathers, the Preceptors of State, pray for sweet rain that will succor the entire population.” The king said, “Let the village elders withdraw. Rain will be forthcoming.” The village elders gave thanks and left.

  Then the king said, “You, priests of the Tang court, why do you think that we honor the Dao and seek to destroy Buddhism? It was because in years past, the monks of this dynasty attempted to pray for rain, and they could not produce even a single drop. It was our good fortune that these Preceptors of State descended from Heaven and saved us from our bitter affliction. Now all of you have offended the Preceptors of State no sooner than you arrived from a great distance, and you should be condemned. We shall pardon you for the moment, however, and ask whether you dare to have a rainmaking competition with our Preceptors. If your prayers could bring us the rain to assuage the needs of the people, we would pardon you, certify your rescript, and permit you to journey to the West. If you fail in your competition and no rain comes, all of you will be taken to the block and beheaded publicly.” With a laugh, Pilgrim said, “This little priest has some knowledge of prayers, too!”