The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 2

by Unknown

  From among the watery kinsfolk stepped a stripe-coated perch-mother who wriggled and bowed toward the fiend, saying with a smile, “Great King, if you want to catch the Tang Monk, it isn’t difficult at all. But I wonder if you would be willing to reward me with some wine and meat once you catch hold of him.” “If you could devise a plan and succeed in capturing the Tang Monk,” said the fiend, “I would become your bond-brother. We two shall share the same table to feast on him.” After thanking him, the perch-mother said, “I’ve known for a long time that the Great King possesses the magic to summon winds and rains and to stir up seas and rivers. May I ask whether you are able to cause snow to descend?” “Of course,” said the fiend. She asked again, “How about making ice and causing things to freeze over?” The fiend said, “Certainly.” “In that case,” said the perch-mother, clapping her hands and laughing, “it’s most easy! It’s most easy!” “Tell me what it is that’s most easy,” said the fiend.

  The perch-mother said, “When it is about the hour of the third watch this night, the Great King should exercise his power without any further delay. Call up a cold wind and send down a great snowfall so that the entire Heaven-Reaching River will be solidly frozen. Those of us capable of transformation will assume human forms: carrying luggage, holding umbrellas, and pushing carts, we will follow the direction of the main road to the West and walk continuously on the ice on top of the river. That Tang Monk must be rather impatient to get to the scriptures, and when he sees people walking about like that, he too will want to cross the river by walking on the ice. The Great King can sit quietly at the heart of the river; as soon as you hear the sound of their footsteps, crack open the ice so that he and his disciples will fall into the water. All of them will be captured then.” When that fiend heard these words, he was exceedingly pleased. “Marvelous! Marvelous!” he cried, and he left his water residence at once to rise into the air. There he began to raise up a cold wind to bring snow and to cause everything to freeze up, but we shall mention him no further.

  We tell you now instead about the Tang elder and his disciples, the four of them, sleeping in the Chen household. Just before dawn, all of them began to feel the chill even inside their blankets and their pillows turning cold. Sneezing and shivering, Eight Rules could no longer sleep, and he called out, “Elder Brother, it’s very cold!” “Idiot, why don’t you grow up!” said Pilgrim. “Those who have left the family cannot be touched by heat or cold. How could you be afraid of the cold?” Tripitaka said, “Disciple, it is indeed cold. Look! Even the

  Heavy quilts provide no warmth,

  And hands in sleeves feel like ice.

  Presently frost buds dangle from withered leaves,

  And icy bells form on the hoary pines.

  The ground cracks for the severe cold;

  The pond’s level as the water’s frozen.

  No old fisher is seen on any boat,

  Nor a monk at the mountain temple.

  Wood is scarce and the woodman’s sad;

  Charcoals added, and the noble’s glad.

  The soldier’s beard is like iron;

  The poet’s brush is all hardened.

  A leather coat still seems too thin;

  A fur robe feels even too light.

  On straw mats old priests turn stiff;

  By paper screens no traveler can sleep.

  Though brocade covers are heavy,

  Your whole body shivers and shakes!”

  Neither master nor disciples could sleep any longer; they scrambled up, and after putting on their clothes they opened the door to look outside. Ah! It was completely white, for it was snowing. “No wonder you were complaining of the cold,” said Pilgrim. “It’s snowing heavily!” The four of them stared at it. Marvelous snow! You see

  Dark clouds densely formed—

  Gray fog thickly gathered—

  Dark clouds densely formed,

  As a frigid wind howls throughout the sky;

  Gray fog densely gathered,

  As a great snowfall covers the earth.

  Truly it is like

  A flower that blooms six times,

  Each petal a precious jasper;

  Or a thousand-tree forest,

  Each plant bedecked with jade.

  In a moment: piles of flour!

  In an instant: heaps of salt!

  The white parrot has lost its essence;

  The frosty crane can’t boast of its cost.

  You add to all rivers of Wu and Chu

  Or press down plum blossoms of the southeast.

  Now it seems like vanquished jade dragons, some three million strong—

  Indeed like torn scales and ripped armor flying through the air.

  Where can one find Dongguo’s shoes,1

  Yuan An’s resting place,2

  Or the glow by which Sun Kang studied?3

  Nor can one see Ziyou’s boat,4

  Wang Gong’s robe,5

  Or blankets which fed Su Wu.6

  All you have are some village huts of silver bricks,

  And a country side kneaded out of jade.

  Marvelous snow—

  Willow fleeces o’erspreading bridges;

  Pear blossoms coating houses.

  Willow fleeces o’erspreading bridges

  As a fisher hangs up his coir-coat by the bridge;

  Pear blossoms coating houses

  As wild codgers burn tree roots in houses.

  The guests find it hard to buy wine;

  The old servant can’t find the plums.

  Flitting and fluttering like butterfly wings;

  Drifting and soaring like goose down;

  Churning and rolling it follows the wind;

  In heaps and mounds it hides the roads.

  In waves the chilly might pierces the screens;

  Soughing, the cold air penetrates the drapes.

  A good year’s fine omens drop from the sky

  To wish humans in their affairs success.

  That snow came down fluttering, like flying threads of silk and finely cut chips of jade. After master and disciples gazed at it for a while, admiring its beauty, they saw the elder Chen approaching as two houseboys swept open a path. Two more brought along hot water for them to wash their faces, after which others presented hot tea and milk cakes. Then they carried charcoal fires into the parlor and invited master and disciples to sit inside. “Old Benefactor,” asked the elder, “may I inquire whether the seasons of your region are divided into spring, summer, autumn, and winter?” With a smile, the elder Chen said, “Though ours is a rather out-of-the-way region, only our people and our customs are different from those of a noble nation. But all the grains and livestock share the benefits of the same Heaven and the same sun. How could the four seasons be lacking?” “If so,” said Tripitaka, “how is it that we have such a great snowfall at this time of the year and such a terrible cold?” The elder Chen said, “Though this is only the seventh month, we just passed White Dew7 yesterday, and that means that we are approaching the eighth month. In this place of ours, we have frost and snow during the eighth month.” “That’s quite different from our Land of the East,” said Tripitaka, “for we never have snow back there until winter actually arrives.”

  As they conversed, the servants came forward once more to set the tables for them to dine on rice gruel. After the meal, the snow fell even more heavily, and soon it was two feet deep on the ground. Growing more and more anxious, Tripitaka began to weep. “Venerable Father, please do not worry,” said the elder Chen. “Please don’t let the deep snow bother you. We have stored up in our house a considerable amount of food, and, I dare say, sufficient to feed all of you for quite a long time.” Tripitaka said, “You don’t understand my sorrow, Old Benefactor. In that past year when I was entrusted with the decree to acquire scriptures, His Majesty personally escorted me outside the capital. With his own hand holding the goblet to toast me, the Tang emperor asked me, ‘When can you return?’ Not having any idea of th
e dangers of mountains and waters, this humble priest replied rather casually, ‘After three years I shall be able to return to our nation with the scriptures.’ Since we parted, it has been seven or eight years, and I have yet to see the face of Buddha. I have great fear that I might have exceeded the imperial limit, and I also am troubled by the viciousness of demons and monsters. Today it is my good fortune to live in your great mansion. After the small service rendered you by my foolish disciples last night, I had hopes that I could ask you for a boat to cross the river. Little did I expect that Heaven would send down this great snowfall to block and cover all the roads. Now I wonder when I would attain my goal and be able to return home.” “Relax, Venerable Father,” said the elder Chen, “for after all, many days of your journey have passed already. It does not matter if you spend a few more days here. When the weather clears and the ice melts, this old moron will see to it that you cross the river, even if I have to exhaust my wealth to do it.”

  Just then, a houseboy came to invite them to breakfast. After they finished that in the front hall, they hardly had time to converse when lunch was served also. Troubled by the sight of the elaborately prepared meal, Tripitaka said in great earnestness, “If you are kind enough to take us in, you must treat us as ordinary members of the family.” “Venerable Father,” said elder Chen, “we are deeply indebted to you for saving our children’s lives. Even if we were to feast you every day, we could never repay you sufficiently.”

  Thereafter the snow stopped, and people soon began to come and go once more. When the elder Chen saw how unhappy Tripitaka appeared to be, he asked that the garden be swept out. After a huge brazier with fire was sent for, he invited the whole party to spend some time in a snow cave. “This old fellow doesn’t quite use his head!” said Eight Rules, laughing. “One can admire the garden in the second or the third month during the time of spring. But after such a big snowfall, and it’s so cold now, what’s there for us to admire?” Pilgrim said, “Idiot, you are ignorant! The scenery of snow quite naturally has a mysterious calm, something which not only we can enjoy but which also can console our master.” “Exactly! Exactly!” said the elder Chen. Following his beckoning, they went to the garden and they saw

  A scenery of late autumn,

  When prospects of La8 appeared.

  Jadelike buds formed on hoary pines;

  Silver blooms hung on lifeless willows.

  Jade-moss beneath the steps heaped up powder;

  Bamboos before the window sprouted jasper roots.

  On artificial mountains—

  In domestic fish ponds—

  On artful rockeries

  Pointed peaks were ranged like shoots of jade;

  In garden fish ponds

  The clear, running water became ice trays.

  By the banks the color of hibiscus faded

  And their tender twigs all drooped near the ridge.

  Begonia plants

  Were completely crushed;

  Winter-plum trees

  Brought forth new branches.

  The peony arbor,

  The pomegranate arbor,

  And the cassia arbor—

  Every arbor was piled high with goose down;

  The place of enjoyment,

  The place of entertainment,

  The place of amusement—

  Each place was covered with butterfly wings.

  Two fences of chrysanthmum: white jade framed in gold;

  A few maple trees: lovely red lined with white.

  Since countless courtyards were too cold to reach,

  You might admire the snow cave chilly as ice.

  Inside sat a beast-face brazier with elephant legs,

  In which a hot charcoal fire had just begun.

  All around were some lacquered armchairs draped with tiger skins

  By the paper windows set so warm and soft.

  Inside the cave, there were hung on walls several old paintings by famous hands, the themes of which all had to do with

  Seven worthies going through the pass,9

  A cold river’s lonely fisher,10

  The scenes of snow-bound mountain plateaus;

  Su Wu feeding on his blanket,

  Breaking a plum-twig for the mailman,11

  And frigid art wrought by trees and plants of jade.

  You can’t begin to describe

  The house by the waters where fishes are easily bought,

  Or how scarce is wine when snow buries the roads.

  Truly this is a place most worthy to linger in.

  Think of it, and you needn’t visit Penghu.12

  After they had admired the scenery for a long while, they sat down in the snow cave and chatted with some of the aged neighbors on the matter of acquiring scriptures. When they finished drinking some fragrant tea, the elder Chen asked again, “Would the several Venerable Fathers take some wine?” “This humble cleric does not drink,” said Tripitaka, “but my disciples may drink a few cups of vegetarian wine.” Delighted, the elder Chen at once gave the order: “Bring fruits and vegetables, and warm the wine. We would like to help our guests ward off the chill.” The houseboys and servants brought forth tables and small braziers for heating the wine. The pilgrims and the neighbors each drank a few cups before the utensils were taken away.

  Soon it was dusk, and they were taken back to the front hall again for dinner. Just then, someone walking on the street was heard saying, “What chilly weather! Even the Heaven-Reaching River is frozen!” On hearing this, Tripitaka said, “Wukong, if the river is frozen, what shall we do?” “This sudden cold,” said the elder Chen, “must have frozen only the shallow parts of the river near the bank.” But the man walking on the street was saying, “All eight hundred miles across the river are so solidly frozen that its surface is smooth like a mirror. Even people are walking on it.” When Tripitaka heard that there were people walking on the river, he immediately wanted to go and look. “Please be patient, Venerable Father,” said the elder Chen, “for it’s getting late now. We shall go tomorrow.” They took leave of the neighbors, and after dinner, they rested in the parlors as they had the night before.

  When they arose the next morning, Eight Rules said, “Elder Brother, last night was even colder. The river, I suppose, must be solidly frozen.” Facing the door, Tripitaka knelt down and bowed toward Heaven, saying, “All you great Guardians of the Faith, your disciple has with complete sincerity resolved to journey to the West to see Buddha. Throughout the bitter experience of traversing mountains and streams, I have never once complained. Having reached this place, I thank Heaven for providing assistance by freezing the river. Your disciples therefore wish to offer you our thanksgiving first. After we have acquired the scriptures, we shall inform the Tang emperor so that he may repay this favor of yours with all due reverence.” After he finished praying, he ordered Wujing immediately to saddle the horse so that they could walk on the ice to cross the river. “Please be patient,” said the elder Chen again. “Wait for a few days until the snow and ice melt away. This old moron will prepare a boat to take you across.” “I don’t think we should settle on staying or leaving,” said Sha Monk, “for what we hear is not as reliable as what we see. Let me saddle the horse, but Master should go personally to the river to have a look.” “You are right,” said the elder Chen. “Little ones, go and saddle six horses at once. But don’t saddle Father Tang’s horse yet.”

  With six houseboys following, all of them went to the bank of the river to look. Truly there were

  Snow piles rising up like hills,

  As sunlight broke up the clouds of dawn.

  The southern border froze to turn barren all peaks;

  Ice formed to make lakes and rivers flat and smooth.

  The wind was cold and biting;

  The ground was hard and slippery.

  Pond fishes cuddled dense weeds;

  Wild birds hugged dead branches.

  Travelers abroad all lost their fingers;

  The
river boatman’s teeth madly chattered.

  Snake bellies split;

  Bird feet snapped.

  Truly the icebergs rose a thousand feet tall.

  Cold silver floated in countless ravines;

  The whole river seemed one cold piece of jade.

  The East might think that they produced silkworms,

  But the North in truth had their caves of rats.

  Here Wang Xiang lay;13

  Here Guangwu crossed.14

  In one night e’en the river bottom all hardened!

  The winding stream formed jagged layers;

  The deep river turned frozen blocks.

  Not a ripple throughout the water’s width,

  It seemed a road on land, just bright and smooth.

  When Tripitaka and the others came up to the river’s edge, they stopped the horses to look, and true enough, there were people walking on to the ice from the main road. “Benefactor,” said Tripitaka, “where are those people going on the ice?” The elder Chen said, “On the far side of the river is the Western Kingdom of Women, and these people must be traders. Things worth a hundred pennies on our side can fetch a hundred times more over there, and their things worth a hundred pennies can similarly fetch a handsome price over here. In view of such heavy profits, it is understandable that people want to make this journey without regard for life or death. Usually, five or seven people, and the number may even swell to more than ten, will crowd into a boat to cross the river. When they see that the river is frozen now, they are risking everything to try to cross it on foot.” “Profit and fame,” said Tripitaka, “are regarded as most important in the affairs of the world; for profit, men would give up their own lives. But the fact that this disciple strives so hard to fulfill the imperial decree may also be taken as his quest for fame. Am I so different really from those people?” He turned around and said, “Wukong, go quickly back to our Benefactor’s home and pack. Saddle up the horse, too. Let’s make use of the ice and leave for the West at once.” Smiling broadly, Pilgrim obeyed.