Journey to the West (vol. 2)

by Wu Cheng-En

  Wind blew the leaves along deserted cloisters.

  A thousand-foot pagoda touched the clouds;

  Pine trees grew to nourish the nature.

  Fallen blooms carpeted the unvisited grounds;

  Spiders span cobwebs all over the eaves.

  The drum-stand was empty,

  The bell hung in vain,

  And the frescoes could barely be seen through the dust.

  Still was the pulpit where no priest could be seen,

  Silent the dhyana hall except for the birds.

  The desolation made one long to sigh;

  Its dreariness caused great pain.

  Although an incense burner stood before the Buddha

  All was cold ash, withered flowers and desolation.

  All this made Sanzang miserable, and he could not help his tears flowing. The monks in their cangues and chains pushed open the doors of the main Buddha-hall and invited him to step inside and worship the Buddha. Sanzang entered, offered the incense of his heart and said the recitation three times. Then he turned round again to see six or seven young monks locked to the pillars outside the abbot's lodgings. It was more than he could bear.

  When he entered the abbot's lodgings and all the monks came to kowtow to him they asked, “You reverend gentlemen look rather different. Are you from Great Tang in the East?”

  “You must have second sight,” Monkey said with a laugh. “We are indeed, but how could you tell?”

  “We don't have second sight, my lords,” the monks replied. “It's just that because we're so distressed at the injustice we've suffered and because there's nowhere else we can turn, we have been calling on heaven and earth for days on end. Some heavenly deity must have been moved by us because last night we all had the same dream. We were told that a holy monk was coming from Great Tang in the East who would save our lives and right our wrongs. We knew who you were today because you looked rather unusual.”

  This pleased Sanzang greatly. “What country is this, and what injustice have you suffered?” he asked.

  “My lord,” said the monks on their knees, “this country is called Jisai, and it's one of the biggest in the West. In the old days the foreign states all around used to send tribute: Yuetuo in the South, Gaochang to the North, Western Liang in the East, and Benbo to the West. Every year they used to offer fine jade, bright pearls, beautiful women and magnificent horses. We never had to resort to arms or send expeditions against them: they naturally acknowledged us as their suzerain.”

  “If they did that your king must understand the Way and your civil and military officials be wise and good,” Sanzang said.

  “My lord,” the monks replied to Sanzang's question, “our country's civil officials are not wise, our generals are not good, and our monarch does not understand the Way. Auspicious clouds used to gather round the pagoda of our monastery and mists of good omen rose high above it. The glow above it at night could once be seen from thousands of miles away; the coloured vapors were admired by the countries all around. That was why this was a divinely-appointed capital to which all the foreigners sent tribute. But three years ago at midnight on the first day of the first month of autumn it rained blood. The next morning everyone was terrified and miserable. All the ministers submitted a memorial to the throne: they didn't understand why heaven was so angry with us. Taoists were asked to perform purifications and Buddhist monks to recite sutras as an offering to heaven and earth. Goodness only knows why, but our golden pagoda has been contaminated, and for the last two years no foreign countries have sent tribute. Our king wanted to send armies to punish them, but the officials said that the reason why foreign countries weren't sending tribute was that the auspicious clouds and mists of good omen had disappeared, and this was because we monks had stolen the treasure from the pagoda in our monastery. The stupid king did not investigate, and those corrupt officials had all us monks arrested. We have been beaten and tortured in every possible way. There used to be three generations of us monks in this monastery, but the two older generations both died off because they couldn't take the beating and torture. Now we've been arrested and made to wear these cangues and chains. Your Honour, we could never be so wicked as to steal the treasure from the pagoda. We implore you to take pity on your fellows and in your great mercy and compassion make wide use of your dharma powers and save our lives.”

  At this Sanzang nodded and said with a sigh, “This is an obscure business that will be hard to sort out. The court is ruling badly, and you are suffering a calamity. If it was the rain of blood that contaminated your pagoda why did you not report the fact to your king at the time? Instead you let yourselves in for this calamity.”

  “We are only common mortals, your lordship, and had no way-of telling what heaven had in mind. Besides, our elders didn't understand. What could we be expected to do about it?”

  “What's the time, Wukong?” Sanzang asked.

  “About four in the afternoon,” Monkey replied.

  “I would like to see the king to present our passport,” Sanzang said, “but I cannot solve these monks' problem and report on it to His Majesty. When I left Chang'an I made a vow in the Famen Monastery that on my journey West I would burn incense at every temple I passed, worship the Buddha in every monastery I came across, and sweep every pagoda I saw. Today I have met these monks who have been wronged on account of their pagoda. Will you get me a new broom while I take a bath? I shall then go up to sweep it and find out what has contaminated it and why it does not gleam any longer. Once I have found out the truth it will be much easier to report on it in person to the king and rescue them from their misery.”

  As soon as the monks in cangues and chains heard this they hurried to the kitchen to fetch a big vegetable chopper that they handed to Pig.

  “Take this chopper, your lordship,” they said, “and cut through the iron locks holding the young monks to the pillars so that they can prepare you some food and tea and wait on your master while he eats and bathes. Meanwhile we shall go out on the streets again to beg for a new broom for your master to sweep the pagoda with.”

  “There's no problem about opening locks,” laughed Pig. “We don't need knives or axes. Just ask the hairy-faced gentleman: he's been opening locks for years.” Monkey then stepped forward and used lock-opening magic: one touch and the locks all fell open. The young monks all ran into the kitchen to clean up the cooking pots and stove and prepare the meal. When Sanzang and his disciples had eaten and it was gradually getting dark the monks in cangues and chains came in with two brooms to Sanzang's great delight.

  As they were talking a young monk came in to light the lamp and invite Sanzang to take his bath. By now the sky was bright with the moon and the stars, and from the look-out towers the watches of the night were being beaten out on the drum. It was indeed the time when

  Cold breezes blow around the walls,

  And lamps are lit in every house.

  Along the streets all the doors are shut;

  The gates of the three markets are all closed.

  The fishing boat is sheltered under the trees;

  The ploughing ox is let off its rope.

  The woodman gives his axe a rest,

  While the schoolboy can be heard reciting his lessons.

  When Sanzang had bathed he put on a narrow-sleeved tunic, tightened the belt around his waist, put on a pair of boots, and took the new brooms. “You sleep here while I sweep the pagoda,” he said to the monks.

  “The pagoda was contaminated by the rain of blood,” Monkey said, “and it hasn't shone for many a long day. There may be evil things living up there. If you go up by yourself on this cold and windy night I'm worried that something might go wrong. Why don't I go with you?”

  “Very good idea,” Sanzang replied, and each carrying a broom they first went up into the main Buddha hall, where Sanzang lit the glazed lamp, burned incense, and bowed to the Buddha saying, “Your disciple Chen Xuanzang has been sent by the Great Tang in the East to worshi
p out Tathagata Buddha on Vulture Peak and fetch the scriptures. I have now reached the Golden Light Monastery in the kingdom of Jisai, where the monks tell me that their pagoda has been contaminated and that they have been unjustly punished because the king suspects them of having stolen the treasure. Your disciple is now going devoutly to sweep the tower in the hope that my Buddha in his great responsiveness will reveal the cause of the contamination and spare these folk from injustice.”

  When he had prayed he and Brother Monkey opened the door of the pagoda and began to sweep it from the ground upwards. That pagoda

  Towered to the stars,

  Thrust up into space.

  It was called the glazed tile pagoda,

  The golden sarira spire.

  The stairway spiraled like the inside of a cave;

  The door seemed to be the door of a coop.

  The gleam of the vase reached the moon at the horizon;

  The sea breeze carried the sound of its bells.

  Look at the eaves and corbel brackets,

  The finial in the clouds.

  The eaves and corbel brackets

  Were of masonry through which the scented breezes blew.

  The finial in the clouds

  Had mist dragons coiling around the pagoda.

  The view stretched out for hundreds of miles;

  To climb it was to climb to the heavens.

  At the doors of every story were set glazed lamps,

  But full of dust, not light.

  All around under the eaves ran marble balustrades,

  Covered with filth and insects.

  Inside the tower,

  By the Buddha statues,

  Incense no longer burned.

  Outside the windows,

  In front of the divine face,

  Cobwebs covered all.

  The incense-burners were full of mouse-droppings,

  The lamps untouched by oil.

  Because the treasure had been spirited away

  Many a monk had died for nothing.

  Sanzang was determined to sweep out the pagoda

  And restore to it the beauty that it had before.

  When he had swept one story the Tang Priest went on to sweep the next, and so he continued till he reached the seventh story. By now it was the second watch of the night and he was beginning to feel exhausted.

  “You're tired,” Monkey said. “Sit here and let me sweep it for you.”

  “How many stories does it have?” Sanzang asked.

  “About thirteen I suppose,” Monkey replied. Overcoming his weariness the Tang Priest said, “I must sweep it myself to fulfil the vow.” By the time he had swept another three stories his back and his legs were aching. At the tenth he collapsed and said, “Sweep the last three floors for me, Wukong.”

  Monkey summoned up his energy, went to the eleventh floor, and a moment later up to the twelfth. As he was sweeping there he heard voices from in the roof. “That's odd,” he thought, “Very odd indeed. It's the third watch. They can't be people talking up there as late as this. I'm sure it's evil spirits. Let's have a look.”

  The splendid Monkey King put his broom quietly under his arm, tucked up his clothes, slipped out through the door, and stepped on a cloud to take a better look. Sitting in the middle of the thirteenth story were two evil spirits with a dish of food, a bowl, and a jug of wine. They were playing the finger-guessing game and drinking.

  Monkey used his magic powers to get rid of the broom and bring out his gold-banded cudgel, with which he barricaded the entrance to the pagoda and shouted, “So you're the ones who stole the pagoda's treasure, you monsters.” The two of them jumped up in their panic, grabbed the jug and bowl, and flung them at him. Monkey deflected them with his iron cudgel and said, “I won't kill you because I need you to give evidence.”

  He just used his cudgel to force them to talk. The devils were pinned against the wall, unable to struggle or even move. All they could do was to repeat, “Spare us, spare us. It was nothing to do with us. The thief isn't here.”

  Monkey used holding magic to carry them single-handed down to the tenth story, where he said, “Master, I've got the thieves.”

  This news woke up Sanzang, who had been dozing, with a start of pleasure. “Where did you catch them?” he asked.

  Dragging the demons over and forcing them to kneel to his master Monkey replied, “They were drinking and playing finger-guessing up in the roof. When I heard the din they were making I shot up by cloud to the roof and blocked their escape. I wasn't rough with them because I was worried that a single blow would kill them and we'd have nobody to give evidence. That's why I brought them here nice and gently. You can take statements from them, Master, and find out where they're from and where the stolen treasure has been hidden.”

  The demons were still shivering and shaking and saying, “Spare us!” Then they made this true statement. “We were sent by the Infinitely Sage Dragon King of the Green Wave Pool on the Ragged Rock Mountain. His name's Benborba and mine is Baborben. He's catfish spirit and I'm a snakehead fish spirit. Our Infinitely Sage Ancient Dragon has a daughter called the Infinitely Sage Princess. She is as lovely as flowers or the moon and brilliant as well. The Ancient Dragon got a husband for her who would live in the palace. He has tremendous magic powers and he's called Prince Ninehead. He came here the other year with the dragon king to demonstrate his powers by making a blood rain that contaminated the pagoda and stealing the precious sarira relic of the Buddha. The princess then went up to the Daluo Heaven and stole the Queen Mother's nine-lobed magic fungus plant from in front of the Hall of Miraculous Mist. We keep it at the bottom of the pool, and it shines day and night with golden light and a coloured glow. Recently we've heard that Sun Wukong is on his way to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven. They say his powers are enormous, and that all along the way he has been looking out for wrongs to right. That's why we keep getting sent here to patrol and stop him when the comes. If that Sun Wukong turns up we're ready for him.”

  At this Monkey gave a mocking laugh. “What an evil beast,” he said. “He's unspeakable. No wonder he invited the Bull Demon King to his place for a banquet the other day. He's been extending his contacts among all these damned demons because he's up to no good.”

  Before he had finished speaking Pig and two or three of the young monks came up the steps from the bottom of the pagoda with lanterns.

  “Master,” Pig said, “why don't you go to bed now that you've swept the pagoda instead of staying here talking?”

  “You've come at just the right moment, brother,” said Monkey. “The pagoda's treasure was stolen by the Infinitely Sage Ancient Dragon. He sent these two little devils I've just captured to patrol the pagoda and keep their ears open for news of us.”

  “What are they called, and what sort of spirits are they?” Pig asked.

  “They've just confessed everything,” Monkey replied. “This one's called Benborba and he's a catfish spirit, and that one's Baborben and he's a snakehead fish spirit.” Pig then lifted his rake to strike them.

  “If they're evil spirits and they've already confessed,” he said, “what are we waiting for? Let's kill them.”

  “No,” said Monkey, “you don't understand. Keep them alive so that they can tell it all to the king and lead us to catch the thieves and get the treasure back.” The splendid idiot then put his rake down again. He and Monkey each carried one of them down the stairs.

  “Spare us,” the demons kept pleading.

  “I'd like to turn you two fish into soup for those monks who've been mistreated so unjustly,” muttered Pig.

  The two or three young monks, who were thoroughly delighted, led the venerable elder down the pagoda stairs with their lanterns. One of them ran ahead to tell the other monks.

  “Good news,” he shouted, “good news! Our troubles are over. The reverend gentlemen have caught the evil spirits who stole the treasure.”

  “Fetch chains,” Monkey said, “run them thr
ough their shoulder-bones, and lock them up here. Watch over them while we get some sleep. We'll decide what to do next tomorrow.” The monks then kept a very close watch on the demons while Sanzang and his disciples slept.

  Before they knew it it was dawn. “Wukong and I will go to court to present the passport,” Sanzang said, and he put on his brocade cassock and Vairocana mitre. When he was dressed in his majestic vestments he strode forward, accompanied by Monkey, who had tightened his tigerskin kilt and straightened up his tunic and was carrying the passport.

  “Why aren't you taking those two demons with you?” Pig asked.

  “We'll submit a memorial to the throne first,” Monkey replied, “then I expect the king will send men for them.” They then went to the palace gates, seeing no end of red birds and golden dragons adorning the deep red gateways of the pure capital.

  At the Gate of Eastern Splendor Sanzang bowed to the officer in charge and said, “May I trouble Your Honour to report that a monk sent from Great Tang in the East to fetch the scriptures from the Western Heaven begs an audience with His Majesty to present his passport?”

  The gate officer did indeed make this report, going to the steps of the throne to say, “There are two Buddhist monks with strange faces and strange clothes outside who say they have been sent by the Tang court in the East of the Southern Continent of Jambu to go to the West to worship the Buddha and fetch the scriptures. They request an audience with Your Majesty in order to present their passport.” The king then sent for them.

  As the Tang Priest took him into the palace all the civilian and military officials were alarmed at the sight of Monkey. Some called him the monkey monk, and others the thunder-god monk; they were all too terrified to look at him for very long. The Tang Priest bowed to the king with a dance and a loud chant of obeisance, while the Great Sage stood leaning to one side with his arms crossed, not moving.

  The venerable elder then submitted this memorial: “I am a priest who has been sent by the Great Tang in the East of the Southern Continent of Jambu to worship the Buddha and fetch the true scriptures in Thunder Monastery in the land of India in the West. As my route lies across your distinguished country I would not dare cross without authorization, and I beg you to verify the passport I have with me and allow me to proceed.”