by Unknown
Look how violent that Eight Rules could become! Dashing up to the gate, he shouted in a severe voice, “Brazen fiend! Send my master out!” The little monsters inside the gate were so alarmed that they went hurriedly to report, “Great King, someone at the gate is demanding his master.” “That must be one of those brazen monks,” said the monster. “Bring out my armor!” The little fiends took it out quickly. After he was properly suited up, the monster picked up his weapon and walked out the gate. Facing him on the left and on the right were Eight Rules and Sha Monk, who stared intently at him. Dear monster! Look at him!
His head wore a gleaming helmet of gold.
A gold cuirass he had that flashed red light.
Pearl- and jade-studded, a belt wrapped his waist.
His feet wore strange boots of tobacco brown.
The bridge of his nose rose high like a ridge.
His forehead seemed like a dragon’s, broad and wide.
Both round and fierce his blazing eyes would glare.
His teeth, like steel swords, were even and sharp.
His tousled short hair did shoot up like flames.
His long beard was groomed like a golden awl.
His mouth held a pond weed, tender and green.
His hands gripped a nine-grooved red bronze mallet.
As the gates swung wide open with a creak,
He bellowed like the thunder of triple spring.
Features like his are rare in human world.
Hence he’s called Great King of Numinous Power.
After the fiend walked out of the gates, about a hundred little imps, all wielding lances and swords, followed him out and stood in two columns behind him. “From which monastery have you come,” he asked Eight Rules, “and why are you causing a disturbance here?” “You brazen creature!” shouted Eight Rules. “You were almost beaten to death! You argued with me the other night, and yet you dare play ignorant and ask me again today? I am a disciple of a holy monk from the Great Tang in the Land of the East, and a pilgrim journeying to see Buddha in the Western Heaven for scriptures. Be-fooling the people with your empty magic, you are even audacious enough to call yourself Great King of Numinous Power and indulge in devouring virgin boys and girls from the Chen village. I am One Load of Gold from the family of Chen Qing. Can’t you recognize me?”
“Monk,” said the monster, “you are quite unreasonable! For taking on the form of One Load of Gold, you should be charged with the crime of false identity. Not only did I not eat you, but the back of my hand was also wounded by you. I have yielded to you already. How dare you come seeking trouble right up to my door?” “If you had yielded,” said Eight Rules, “then why did you raise up the cold wind and send down the great snowfall? Why did you make the ice to trap my master? Send him out quickly and all will be well. If but half a ‘No’ escapes from your teeth, I’ll never spare you! Just look at this rake in my hands!” On hearing this, the fiend smiled sarcastically and said, “Monk, you are wagging your tongue and bragging! It was I, indeed, who brought the snow and froze the river to abduct your master. Now you are clamoring at my door and demanding his return, but this time, I fear, is not quite the same as the time before. Previously, I brought no weapon with me as I thought I was attending a feast, and you took advantage of me. Don’t run away now, because I’m going to fight with you for three rounds. If you can withstand me, I will return your master; if you cannot, I’ll eat you also.”
“My darling child!” said Eight Rules. “That’s the way to talk! Take care, watch my rake!” “So you became a monk midway in your life,” said the fiend. Eight Rules said, “My dear boy, you do have a little Numinous power! How did you know that I became a monk midway in my life?” “Since you are using a rake,” said the fiend, “you must have been hired as a gardener somewhere, and now you have stolen even your master’s rake!” “Son,” said Eight Rules, “this rake of mine is no garden tool. Look!
The huge teeth are forged like dragon claws;
Its handle, white-gold wrapped, is serpent shaped.
When it’s used in battle, cold wind swoops down;
When it’s put to combat, bright flames spring up.
Able to smite fiends for the holy monk,
It catches monsters on the westward way.
When I move it, mist hides the sun and moon.
When I use it, bright, colored lights will shine.
Mount Tai’s toppled, and a thousand tigers cringe.
The sea’s upturned, ten thousand dragons fear.
Though you may have Numinous power,
One blow will give you nine big, gaping holes!”
That fiend, of course, would not take such words seriously! He raised his bronze mallet and brought it down on Eight Rules’s head. Using his muckrake to parry the blow, Eight Rules said, “You brazen creature! So, you too, became a spirit midway in your life!” “How could you tell that I became a spirit midway in my life?” asked the fiend. “If you know how to use a bronze mallet,” said Eight Rules, “you must have been a laborer hired by some silversmith to tend the fires. You took advantage of him and stole his mallet!” The fiend said, “This is no mallet for forging silver. Look!
Nine segments formed like petals of a flow’r;
Though hollow the stem’s made of evergreen.
It’s not anything of this mortal world,
It has its birth and name in the house of gods.
Green seeds and cases aged in the jasper pool;
Pure scent and nature born of a jade-green pond.
Since I toiled to temper and refine it,
It’s charged with magic and it’s hard as steel.
Swords, halberds, and spears—all can’t rival it.
Axes and lances—none can withstand it.
Though your rake may be like a sharp-edged sword,
My mallet will break it as it breaks a nail!”
When Sha Monk saw how the two of them engaged in such exchanges, he could no longer restrain himself from approaching them and shouting, “Fiend! Stop this boasting! The ancients said, ‘What’s spoken proves nothing; only deeds are visible!’ Don’t run away. Have a taste of my staff!” Using the mallet to parry the blow, the fiend said, “So, you also are someone who became a monk midway in your life!” “How did you know?” asked Sha Monk. “The way you look,” said the fiend, “you resemble someone who used to work in a pastry shop.” Sha Monk said, “How could you tell that I used to work in a pastry shop?” “If you didn’t work there,” said the fiend, “how could you learn to use a rolling pin, like the one they made noodles with?” “You cursed thing!” scolded Sha Monk. “Of course, you haven’t seen anything like this before!
This kind of weapon is rare in the world;
That’s why you don’t know the treasure staff’s name.
It came from the moon—the shadowless spot—
Carved from a piece of divine śāla wood.
Outside it’s decked with jewels luminous;
Within, a hub of gold’s most glorious.
In bygone days it attended royal feasts;
Now it follows Right and guards the Tang Monk.
Few may know it on the way to the West;
Great fame it has in the Region Above.
It’s called the fiend-routing treasure staff:
One blow and it will surely crack your skull!”
In no mood to talk further, the fiend charged him; the three of them turned ferocious all at once and began a fierce battle at the bottom of the river.
Bronze mallet, treasure staff, and muckrake:
Wuneng and Wujing both engaged the fiend.
One was Heavenly Reeds descending to earth;
One was a divine warrior coming from the sky.
Both attacked the water fiend, showing their power.
This one withstood alone the god-monks—a laudable show!
Proper affinity can perfect the great Dao:
Mutual growth or conquest holds Ganges’ sand.
Earth conquers water,
And the bottom’s seen when water dries up;
Water begets wood
Which, flourishing, will bloom like flowers.
Chan and Dao, nurtured, lead to the same essence;
Elixir, refined and forged, tames the three parties.
Earth is mother
Sprouting golden shoots;
Gold begets divine water and the baby’s born.
Water’s the source
To moisten wood.
And wood, thriving, brings forth strong, bright fire.
The conjoined Five Phases will all differ:
That’s why they strive, each changing colors.
Look! Each petal of that bronze mallet was fine and bright;
The treasure staff was wrapped in a thousand strands of silk.
The rake, made according to yin-yang and the stars,
Dealt sundry blows without style or number.
They risked their lives for the monk’s ordeal;
They courted death for Śākyamuni’s sake.
The bronze mallet was kept busy all the time,
Blocking staff on the left and rake on the right.
The three of them fought for some two hours underneath the water and no decision could be reached. Supposing that they could not prevail against him, Eight Rules winked at Sha Monk, and the two of them at once feigned defeat. They turned and fled, their weapons trailing behind them. “Little ones,” ordered the fiend, “stay here. Let me catch up with these fellows and bring them back for you to eat.” Look at him! Like the wind blowing dead leaves and the rain beating down the withered flowers, he pursued them right up to the surface of the water.
On the eastern shore, the Great Sage Sun was staring at the water with unblinking eyes. Suddenly huge waves arose in the river and there were shouts and roars. Eight Rules was the first to leap ashore, crying, “He’s coming! He’s coming!” Sha Monk, too, rushed up to the bank, crying, “He’s coming! He’s coming!” He was pursued by the fiend, who yelled, “Where are you running to?” No sooner did he clear the water, however, than he was met by Pilgrim, shouting, “Watch the rod!” Quickly swerving to dodge the blow, the fiend met him with upraised mallet. One of them churned up the waves near the edge of the river, while the other showed forth his power on the bank. Before they reached even three rounds after they closed in, the fiend had already weakened. With a splash he plunged back into the river and disappeared; the wind and the waves thus subsided.
Pilgrim went back to high ground and said, “Brothers, you’ve worked very hard!” “Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “this monster-spirit might not do so well on land, but he was quite formidable beneath the water. Second Elder Brother and I attacked him left and right and both of us could only manage to fight him to a draw. What shall we do to rescue Master?” “Let’s not dillydally,” said Pilgrim, “for I fear that he may harm Master.” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “we’ll go and try to entice him to come out again. You be quiet and wait for him in midair. Once his head emerges, you give him one of those garlic-pounding blows squarely on the top of his skull. Even if you don’t kill him, you’ll knock him dazed. Old Hog can then finish him off with one blow of the rake.” “Exactly! Exactly!” said Pilgrim. “That’s what we call mutual cooperation. Only that can accomplish anything.” The two of them dove into the water again, and we shall leave them for the moment.
We tell you now about that fiend, who fled in defeat and returned to his residence. As the various fiends met him, the perch-mother went up to him and said, “Great King, where did you chase those two monks to?” The fiend said, “I didn’t realize that those monks have another helper, who, when they leaped ashore, tried to hit me with an iron rod. I dodged the blow and fought with him. God knows how heavy that rod of his is! My bronze mallet could not stand up to it at all. Before we finished three rounds, I had to flee in defeat.” “Great King,” said the perch-mother, “can you remember how that helper looked?” “He has a hairy face and a thunder-god beak,” said the fiend, “forked ears and broken nose. A monk with fiery eyes and diamond pupils.” When the perch-mother heard this, she shuddered and said, “O Great King! It was smart of you to flee, and you escaped with your life! Three more rounds and you won’t live at all! I know who that monk is.” “Who is he?” asked the fiend. “Some years back I was living in the Great Eastern Ocean,” said the perch-mother, “and I heard the old Dragon King talking about him and his reputation. This monk is the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, the Handsome Monkey King who is a golden immortal of the great monad and of the primal chaos in the Region Above. Five hundred years ago, he caused great havoc in the Celestial Palace, but now he has embraced Buddhism to accompany the Tang Monk to go to the Western Heaven for scriptures. He has changed his name to Pilgrim Sun Wukong. He has tremendous magic powers and knows many ways of transformation. Great King, how could you tangle with him? From now on, you must not fight with him at all.” Hardly had she finished speaking when one of the little imps dashed in to report, “Great King, those two monks are here again to provoke battle.” The monster-spirit said, “My worthy sister’s opinion is very sound! I’m not going to face them again. See what they can do!” He gave hurriedly this order, “Little ones, shut the gates. As the proverb says,
You may call outside the door;
Your cries I’ll wholly ignore!
They may even stay here for a couple of days, but when they get tired of it, they’ll leave. Then we can freely and leisurely enjoy the Tang Monk.” All those little fiends started to haul rocks and mud to seal up the entrance to the residence. When Eight Rules and Sha Monk shouted repeatedly without receiving any reply, Idiot in perturbation began to batter the gates with his rake. The gates, of course, were tightly shut, but a few blows of the rake broke them down. Inside the gates, however, was a solid wall of mud and rocks piled sky-high. When Sha Monk saw it, he said, “Second Elder Brother, this fiend is terribly afraid, and that’s why he shuts himself up and refuses to come out. You and I should go back up to shore and discuss the matter with Big Brother.” Eight Rules agreed and they returned to the eastern shore.
Halfway between cloud and fog, Pilgrim stood waiting and holding his iron rod. When he saw the two of them emerge without the fiend, he lowered his cloud and met them on the bank. “Brothers,” he asked, “how is it that that thing has not come up?” Sha Monk said, “The fiend has shut his doors tightly and refused to come out to meet us. When Second Elder Brother broke the doors, we ran into a solid wall of mud and rocks inside. That’s why we could not even do battle with him. We decided to return to talk to you and see how we could make plans to rescue Master.” “If that’s how he behaves,” said Pilgrim, “it’s quite hard to think of anything to overcome him. You two had better patrol the banks to make certain that he doesn’t escape to another place. Let me make a trip.” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “where are you going?” Pilgrim said, “I’m going to the Potalaka Mountain to make inquiry of the Bodhisattva. I want to find out the origin of this monster, his name, and how I may search out his ancestral home. After I have seized his kinsfolk and all his relations, I can return here to rescue Master.” With a laugh, Eight Rules said, “Elder Brother, the way you do things will waste a lot of time and energy!” “I won’t waste any time or energy!” said Pilgrim. “I go, and I’ll be back at once!”
Dear Great Sage! Mounting the auspicious luminosity quickly, he left the river and headed straight for the South Sea. In less than half an hour, the Potalaka Mountain came into sight as he lowered his cloud and went up to the summit. The Twenty-four devas, the Great Mountain-Guardian, the disciple Mokṣa, Child Sudhana, and the Pearl-Bearing Dragon Girl all came forward to greet him. “Why did the Great Sage come here?” they asked, and Pilgrim said, “I must see the Bodhisattva.” “The Bodhisattva left the cave this morning,” said the deities, “and forbade anyone to follow her. She went by herself into the bamboo grove, though she left word that you would arrive
today and that we should be here to receive you. She said she would not be able to see you immediately and she asked you to be seated before the cliff for awhile and wait for her to come out.”
Pilgrim obeyed and before he had even taken a seat, the Child Sudhana approached him bowing and said, “Great Sage Sun, I must thank you for your past kindness. The Bodhisattva was gracious enough to take me in and I have been her constant companion, waiting upon her beneath her lotus platform. She has, in fact, shown me great favors.” Recognizing that he was formerly the Red Boy, Pilgrim said with a laugh, “In the past you were gripped by demonic delusions. Now that you have attained the right fruit, you must realize that old Monkey is a good person!”
After having waited for a long time, Pilgrim grew very anxious, and he said, “Please make the announcement for me, all of you. If there’s further delay, I do fear for my master’s life.” “We dare not,” said the deities, “for the Bodhisattva gave specific instruction that you should wait for her to come out.” As he had always been impulsive, Pilgrim, of course, could stand it no longer and dashed all at once into the bamboo grove. Aha!
This Handsome Monkey King
Was by nature most impulsive.
The devas could not detain him
When he wished to go inside.
Deep into the grove he strode,
His open eyes stealing a glance.
There the salvific Honored-One
Sat, cross-legged, on bamboo leaves.
Carefree and without makeup
She looked so gentle and mild.
Her tresses, undone, flowed down;
She had no headgear with fringes.
Her blue robe she did not wear,
But only a small waistcoat.
A silk skirt wrapped round her waist.
Her two feet were both naked.
Her cloak’s silk sash was untied;
Her two arms were completely bare.
