by Wu Cheng-En
The story tells how the Tang Priest and his disciples got up early to be waited on once more by that crowd of servants. The venerable elder told them to pack the baggage and saddle the horse. When the idiot heard that they were about to go he pulled a face, pouted and grumbled, but he still had to pack the clothes and begging bowls then go to look for the carrying pole. Friar Sand brushed the horse, saddled and harnessed it, and stood waiting. Brother Monkey put the nine-ringed monastic staff in his master's hand and hung the passport in a bag in front of his chest. They were now all ready to set out. Mr. Kou then invited them into the large hall at the back, where a feast was set out that excelled even the one they had eaten in the refectory.
Curtains hung from on high;
Screens stood all around.
In the middle was a picture:
A mountain of long life and a sea of blessings.
On both walls were displayed.
Scrolls of spring, summer, autumn and winter.
From the dragon-patterned tripod came clouds of incense;
Above magpie-tailed burners rose auspicious vapors.
In bowls were bunches of color,
Fresh and brilliant flowers of splendid form.
The tables were piled with gold:
Lines of confections shaped like lions and immortals.
Music and dancing before the steps were in true harmony;
The dishes in the hall were like a brocade.
Exquisite soup and rice, both free of meat;
The finest tea and the best of wines.
Although they were only commoners
Their home was fine enough for a prince.
All that could be heard were happy sounds
So loud they surprised the sky and shook the earth.
The venerable elder was just exchanging courtesies with Mr. Kou when a servant came in to report, “The guests are all here.” These were the people who had been invited-neighbors, relations by marriage, and some of his pious friends who also fed monks and recited the name of the Buddha-and all of them bowed to the venerable elder. After the greetings had been made everyone sat down. Outside the hall zithers and panpipes were played, while inside the hall pipas and songs accompanied the banquet. Pig paid great attention to this rich banquet.
“Brother,” he said to Friar Sand, “relax and eat as much as you can. There won't be anything as good as this to eat after we leave the Kou house.”
“Nonsense,” Friar Sand replied with a laugh. “As the saying goes,
No matter how splendid the banquet you eat,
For only a while can it keep you replete.
Your savings may meet the expense of the road,
But savings can never in bellies be stowed.”
“You're hopeless,” said Pig, “hopeless. If I eat my fill today I won't feel hungry for the next three days.”
“Idiot,” said Monkey, who had heard this. “Don't fill your belly till it bursts. We've got to start walking now.”
They were still talking, and it was almost noon when Sanzang raised his chopsticks and said grace. Pig grabbed a bowl, filled it with desperate speed, and ate five or six bowlfuls in succession, gulping down a whole bowlful at a time. Without any qualms at all he filled both his sleeves with steamed bread, twists, pancakes and cooked dishes before rising with his master. Sanzang thanked the gentleman and everyone else, then they all went outside together. Just look at the coloured banners, splendid canopies, drummers and instrumentalists outside. Only then did two groups of clergy, one Buddhist and one Taoist, arrive.
“Gentlemen,” said Mr. Kou, “you are late. Our teacher is in a hurry to leave, so I will not be able to offer you a meal. I'll show you my gratitude when we come back.” Everyone then opened a way to let them through, the carriers carrying their chairs, the riders on their horses and the walkers on foot all let Sanzang and his three disciples go first. The heavens rang with drumming and music, the flags and banner blotted out the sun, crowds pressed around, and carriages and horses were all packed close together as everyone came to watch Mr. Kou seeing the Tang Priest off. The splendor all around was more magnificent than pearls or jade, and no less fine than brocade screens behind which spring lies hidden.
The Buddhist monks playing Buddhist tunes and the Taoist priests their Taoist airs all escorted the travelers out of the prefecture. When they reached the three-mile pavilion, baskets of food and jars of drink were set out, cups were raised, and they all drank parting toasts.
Mr. Kou, loath to let them go, said as he choked back his tears, “Teacher, you must spend some more days with us on your way back with the scriptures to fulfil my longing.” Overcome with gratitude, Sanzang thanked him at great length.
“If I reach Vulture Peak,” he said, “and see the Lord Buddha the first thing I will do will be to praise your great virtue. We will certainly come to kowtow to you in thanks on our return journey.” As they talked they covered another mile or so without noticing it. Then the venerable elder insisted on taking his leave, at which Mr. Kou turned back, sobbing aloud. Indeed:
He who had vowed to feed the clergy found enlightenment:
He was not fated to see the Tathagata Buddha.
We will tell not of how Mr. Kou went home with everyone after seeing the travelers off as far as the three-mile pavilion, but of how the master and his three disciples went on for some twelve or fifteen miles. By now it was growing dark.
“It's late,” Sanzang said. “Where are we to spend the night?”
Pig, who was carrying the pole, pulled a face and said, “You would have to leave ready-cooked meals behind and refuse to stay in a nice cool brick house so as to go wherever it is we're going. That's just asking for trouble. It's very late now. What'll we do if it starts raining?”
“Evil, insolent beast,” cursed Sanzang, “complaining again. As the saying goes,
The capital may be remarkably fine,
But we can't linger here for a very long time.
If we are fated to visit the Lord Buddha, fetch the true scriptures, go back to Great Tang and report to the emperor I will let you eat in the imperial kitchens for years on end. Then, you evil beast, you will swell up till you burst. That will teach you to be such a greedy devil.” The idiot chortled quietly to himself, but did not dare say another word.
When Brother Monkey raised his eyes to look around he saw some buildings beside the road and asked his master urgently, “Can we spend the night here? Can we?” Sanzang went over to the place, where he saw a ruined memorial arch on which was inscribed
THE VIHARA OF PADMAPRABHA
“The Bodhisattva Padmaprabha was a disciple of the Buddha Sikhin,” said Sanzang, dismounting. “He was dismissed for eliminating the Demon King of Poison Fire and turned into the Spirit Officer of the Five Manifests. There must be a shrine here.” They then all went in together. The cloisters had all collapsed, the walls had fallen down, and there was no trace of anybody around, only of vegetation running wild. They would have gone out again, but the sky had filled with dark clouds and it had started to pour with rain. There was nothing for it but to find a place in the ruins where they could shelter from the storm. They kept completely silent, not daring to speak aloud for fear that some evil demon might hear them. Thus it was that they endured a sleepless night sitting or standing there. Oh dear! How true it is that
Disaster strikes at triumph's height;
In time of joy comes sorrow's blight.
If you don't know what happened when they carried on with their journey, listen to the explanation in the next installment.
Chapter 97
The Monks and Their Supporters Meet With Demonic Attack
The Sage Makes the Spirit Reappear to Save the Primal One
We will tell not of how the Tang Priest and the others endured a hard night in the dilapidated palace of Padmaprabha, but of a group of evil villains in Diling county in the prefecture of Brazentower who had squandered all their families' fortunes in whoring, drinking and gamb
ling. Having nothing else left to live on they had formed a criminal gang of a dozen and more members and were discussing which family was the richest in the city and which the second richest. The idea was to rob them of their gold and silver and thus get some money to spend.
“There's no need to go round making enquiries,” one of them said, “or work it out in detail. The Mr. Kou who saw the Tang monk off today is rolling in money. Let's strike tonight in the rain. There'll be nobody ready for us in the streets and the fire wardens won't be patrolling. When we've stolen his property we'll be able to go with the girls, gamble and have a good time again. That would be great, wouldn't it?”
The other robbers were all delighted with the suggestion, and with one heart they all set out in the rain carrying daggers, spiked clubs, sticks, coshes, ropes and torches. Flinging open the main gates of the Kou house they charged inside, shouting and sending everyone inside, young and old, male and female, scurrying into hiding. The old woman hid under the bed and the old man slipped behind the gates, while Kou Liang, Kou Dong and their families fled for their lives in all directions. Holding their knives in their hands and lighting torches, the bandits opened up all the chests in the house and grabbed as much of the gold, silver, jewelry, hair ornaments, clothing, vessels and other household goods as they wanted. Mr. Kou could not bear to lose all this, so taking his life in his hands he come out from behind the gate to plead with the robbers.
“Take as much as you want, great kings,” he said, “but please leave me a few clothes to be buried in.” The robbers were in no mood for argument. They rushed up to him, tripped and kicked him to the ground. Alas,
His three souls vanished to the underworld;
His seven spirits left the world of men.
The successful robbers left the Kou house, put up a rope ladder from the foot of the city wall, took it in turns to cross and fled Westwards in the rain. Only when they saw that the robbers had gone did the servants of the Kou family dare show their heads again. When they looked for old Mr. Kou and found him lying dead on the floor they started weeping aloud. “Heavens! The master's been murdered!” they all said as they wept, embracing the body and sobbing in misery.
When it was almost the fourth watch the resentful Mrs. Kou, who was angry with the Tang Priest and his followers for rejecting their hospitality, and also because the extravagance of their send-off had provoked this disaster, decided to ruin the four of them. Helping Kou Liang to his feet, she said, “Don't cry, my son. Your father fed monks day in and day out. Who ever would have thought that he would complete the number by feeding a gang of monks who'd murder him?”
“Mother,” the brothers asked, “how did those monks murder him?”
“Those bandits were so bold and vicious that when they charged in I hid under the bed,” she replied. “Although I was trembling I made sure to take a very good look at them by the light of the torches. Do you know who they were? The Tang Priest was lighting torches, Pig was holding a knife, Friar Sand was taking the gold and silver, and Monkey killed your father.” The two sons believed all this.
“If you saw all that clearly, mother,” they said, “you must be right. They spent a fortnight in our house, so they knew all the doors, walls, windows and passageways. They must have been tempted by our wealth and come back here under cover of rain and darkness. How evil! They've stolen our property and murdered our father. Once it's light we'll go to the local government and report them as wanted men.”
“What sort of wanted notice should we write?” Kou Dong asked.
“We'll write what our mother said,” Kou Liang replied, and he wrote:
The Tang Priest lit the torches, Pig incited to murder, Friar Sand stole the gold and silver and Sun the Novice murdered our father.
The whole household was in such a hubbub that before they noticed it day had dawned. While invitations were sent out to their relatives and a coffin was ordered Kou Liang and his brother went to the local government offices to deposit their complaint. Now the prefect of Brazentower:
Had always been upright,
Was good by nature.
As a boy he had studied by the light of the snow;
When young he had taken the palace examinations.
His heart was always set on loyalty and justice,
And filled with thoughts of kindness and benevolence.
His name would be transmitted in annals for a thousand years,
Like a Gong Sui or Huang Ba come back to life;
His fame would resound for ten thousand ages in the balls of office,
Zhuo Mao and Lu Gong reborn.
When he had taken his seat in the hall and declared that all matters could be dealt with, he ordered that the placard asking for plaints should be carried outside. Kou Liang and his brother then came in holding the placard, knelt down and called aloud, “Your Honour, we have come to denounce some bandits as thieves and murderers.” The prefect accepted their complaint and read what it had to say.
“I was told yesterday that your family completed your vow of feeding monks,” the prefect said, “by feeding four distinguished ones, arhats from the Tang Dynasty in the East. You made a great display of sending them off with drums and music. So how could such a thing as this have possibly happened?”
“Your Honour,” said Kou Liang, kowtowing, “our father Kou Hong had been feeding monks for twenty-four years. These four monks who had come from afar just happened to make up the ten thousand, which was why he held a service to mark the completion and kept them there for a fortnight. They got to know all the passageways, doors and windows. They were seen off during the day and came back yesterday evening. During the dark and stormy night they charged into the house with torches and weapons to steal our gold, silver, jewelry, clothes and hair ornaments. They beat our father to death and left him lying on the ground. We beg you to be our protector.” On hearing this the prefect mustered infantry, cavalry and able-bodied civilian conscripts, 150 men in all, who rushed straight out of the Western gate carrying sharp weapons in pursuit of the Tang Priest and his three disciples.
The story now tells how master and disciples stayed in the ruins of the minor palace of padmaprabha until dawn, when they went out and started hurrying Westwards. The bandits, who had gone along the main road West all night till daybreak after robbing the Kou family and leaving the city, had passed the palace of Padmaprabha and hidden in the mountains some six or seven miles to the West. Here they were just dividing up the gold and silver when the Tang Priest and his three followers came into view, also heading West along the road.
The bandits, whose greed was not yet sated, pointed at the Tang Priest and said, “Look! Aren't they the monks who were seen off yesterday?”
“And a very welcome arrival too,” said the other bandits, laughing, “Let's do a bit more of our dirty business. Those monks coming along the road spent a long time in the Kou house. Goodness only knows how much stuff they're carrying. Let's hold them up, take their travel money and white horse, and share it all out. That'll suit us very nicely.” The robbers then rushed to the road, brandishing their weapons and yelling their war cry as they formed a line.
“Stay where you are, monks,” they shouted. “Leave some toll money and we'll spare your lives. If so much as half a 'no' comes out through your teeth you'll all be cut down without mercy.” The Tang Priest was shaking with terror as he sat on his horse.
“What are we to do?” Pig and Friar Sand asked Brother Monkey with alarm. “What are we to do? We had a miserable night in the rain, and after starting out again this morning we're being robbed by bandits. How true is it that troubles never come singly.”
“Don't be frightened, Master,” said Monkey with a smile, “and stop worrying, brothers. Wait while I go and ask them a few questions.”
The splendid Great Sage put on his tigerskin kilt, straightened up his brocade and cotton tunic, went up to them, put his hands together in front of his chest and asked, “What are you gentlemen doing?”
&
nbsp; “Don't you care whether you live or die, you swine?” the robbers yelled back at him. “How dare you question us! Have you got no eyes in your head? Don't you realize who we great kings are? Hand your toll money over at once and we'll let you go on your way.”
When he heard this, Monkey wreathed his face in smiles and replied, “So you're bandits who hold people up on the road.”
“Kill him!” the bandits yelled with fury.
“Your Majesties,” said Monkey with feigned terror, “Your Majesties, I'm only a monk from the country. I don't know the right things to say. Please don't be angry if I've offended you, please don't. If what you want is toll money all you have to do is to ask me: no need to ask the other three. I'm the bookkeeper. All the money we get for chanting sutras and as alms, all we beg and all we're given, goes into the bundles, and I'm in charge of spending it. The man on the horse is my master. All he can do is recite sutras. He doesn't care about anything else. He's forgotten all about wealth and sex, and he's got nothing at all. The black-faced one is a junior I collected on our journey. All he can do is look after the horse. And the one with a long snout is a laborer I hired. He's only good for carrying a pole. Let those three go while I fetch our travel money, cassocks and begging bowls. I'll give you all you want.”
“You seem to be an honest chap, monk,” the robbers said, “so we'll spare your life. Tell the other three to leave their luggage, and we'll let them go.” Monkey turned back and gave them a look. Friar Sand put down the carrying-pole with the luggage, and led the master's horse as they carried on Westwards. Monkey bowed down to undo the bundle, took a pinch of dust from the ground, and scattered it on the bundle as he said the words of a spell.
