Journey to the West (vol. 2)

by Wu Cheng-En

  Fastened only with a hook.

  The peddler's basket comes down long and low,

  Then they grab for the goal.

  At the really magnificent footwork.

  All the beauties shout with admiration.

  The silken clothes of all are soaked in sweat;

  Feeling tired and relaxed they ended their game.

  The description could go on and on. There is another poem that tells more:

  Kicking the ball in the April weather,

  Beauties blown along by the magical wind.

  Sweat stained their powdered faces like dew on a flower;

  The dust on their moth eyebrows was mist hiding willows.

  Their turquoise sleeves hanging low covered jade fingers;

  Trailing embroidered skirts showed golden lotus feet.

  After kicking the ball many times they were charmingly tired;

  Their hair was disheveled and their topknots askew.

  After watching for a long time Sanzang could only go to the bridge and call loudly, “Bodhisattvas, fate brings me here as a poor monk to beg for the gift of some food.” As soon as the women heard him they cheerfully put aside their needlework and balls to come out smiling and giggling through the gates to greet him.

  “Reverend sir,” they said, “we're sorry we didn't welcome you sooner. As you have come to our poor farm we couldn't possibly feed you on the path. Please come inside and sit down.”

  When Sanzang heard this he thought, “Splendid, this is splendid. The West really is Buddha's land. If even these womenfolk are so diligent about feeding monks the men are bound to be pious followers of the Buddha.”

  Sanzang stepped forward to greet the women and followed them into the thatched cottages. As he passed the pavilion and looked he saw that on the other side of it there were no buildings. All that could be seen were:

  Towering mountain-tops,

  Distant ranges of the earth.

  The towering mountain-tops touch the clouds;

  The distant ranges of the earth lead to peaks in the ocean.

  From the stone bridge by the gates

  One looks on a stream that bends nine times;

  The peach and plum trees in the orchard

  Vie in abundance of blossom.

  Creepers and vines hang from three or four trees;

  The fragrance of orchids is spread by thousands of flowers.

  From afar this retreat rivals Penglai's fairyland;

  Seen from close to the mountain beats Tai and Hua.

  This is truly a retreat for demon immortals,

  An isolated house with no neighbors around.

  One woman came forward to push the stone gates open and invite the Tang Priest to come in and sit down. All he could do was go inside. When he looked up he saw that the tables and seats were all of stone, and the atmosphere was oppressively cold. This alarmed the venerable elder, who thought, “This is a thoroughly sinister place. I'm sure it's evil.”

  “Please sit down, venerable elder,” the women all said with simpering smiles. He had no choice but to sit down. A little later he found himself shuddering.

  “What monastery are you from, reverend sir?” the women asked. “For what purpose are you collecting alms? Are you repairing roads and bridges, founding monasteries, worshipping at pagodas, or having Buddha statues made and sutras printed? Won't you show us your donation book?”

  “I am not a monk collecting donations,” the venerable elder replied.

  “If you're not here to ask for charity then why are you here?” the women asked. “We have been sent by Great Tang in the East to the Thunder Monastery in the Western Heaven to fetch the scriptures,” Sanzang replied. “As our stomachs were empty when we happened to be passing this distinguished place I have come to beg a vegetarian meal from you in your kindness. After that we poor monks will be on our way again.”

  “Splendid, splendid,” the women all said. “As the saying goes, monks from afar most love to read the scriptures. Sisters! We must treat them well. Let's give them some vegetarian food as quickly as we can.”

  While three of the women kept him company, talking about such matters as primary and secondary causation, the other four went into the kitchen, where they tucked up their clothes, rolled up their sleeves, fanned the fire and scrubbed the cooking pots. Do you know what it was they prepared? They were frying in human fat, and what they cooked was human flesh, stewed into black paste as if it were wheat gluten, and human brain cut out to fry like pieces of beancurd.

  Then they placed the two dishes on a stone table and said to Sanzang, “Do eat. We were too rushed to prepare anything good, so please make do with this. It'll stave off the pangs of hunger. There will be some more dishes to follow.”

  As soon as Sanzang used his nose and smelled the stench of flesh he would not eat, but bowed with his hands together be; re his chest and said, “Bodhisattvas, I have been a vegetarian since birth.”

  “But this is vegetarian food, reverend sir,” the women all replied with smiles.

  “Amitabha Buddha!” exclaimed Sanzang. “If as a monk I ate vegetarian food like that I would never have any hope of seeing the Buddha or fetching the surras.”

  “Reverend sir,” the women said, “as a monk you shouldn't be so choosy about what you're given.”

  “I never could be,” Sanzang said, “I never could be. I am under the orders of the Great Tang emperor to harm not even the tiniest life, to save all I see suffering, to put all the food-grain I am given into my mouth with my fingers, and to cover my body with the threads of silk that come my way. I would never dare pick and choose among my benefactors' gifts.”

  “Even if you're not picking and choosing,” the women replied with smiles, “you do seem to have come here to complain. Please eat some of the food and don't mind if it's a little coarse and flavorless.”

  “It's not that I don't want to eat it,” Sanzang said, “it's that I'm afraid I'd be breaking my vows. I hope that you Bodhisattvas will remember that setting living beings free is better than keeping them with you and let me go on my way.”

  As Sanzang struggled to get out the women blocked the gateway and refused to let him go. “Business bringing itself to our door!” they all said. “You've no more chance of getting away from here than of covering up a fart with your hands. Where do you think you're going?”

  They were all quite skilled in the martial arts and quick movers too, and after they had grabbed Sanzang they dragged him like a sheep and threw him to the ground. Then they all held him down, tied him up, and suspended him from the rafters. There is a special name for the way they hung him up there: The Immortal Shows the Way. One hand was strung up by a rope so that it pointed forward. The other hand was fastened to his waist by another rope that was also holding him aloft, and his legs were both held up by a third rope behind him. The three ropes had him suspended from a beam with his back on top and his belly pointing down.

  As Sanzang endured the agony and held back his tears he thought with bitter regret, “How evil my destiny is. I thought I was coming to beg for a vegetarian meal from good people. I never imagined I'd be falling into the fiery pit. Disciples! Rescue me as soon as you can if I am ever to see you again. If you don't get here within four hours I shall be dead.”

  Despite his misery Sanzang kept a careful eye on the women. When they had him tied up securely and hanging there they started to remove their clothes. This alarmed the venerable elder, who thought, “They must be taking their clothes off because they are going to beat me. Perhaps they are going to eat me too.” The women only unbuttoned their gauze blouses, exposing their stomachs. Then each of them produced a silken rope about as thick as a duck egg from her navel. These they made move like bursting jade or flying silver as they fastened the gates of the farm.

  We leave them and go back to Monkey, Pig and Friar Sand, who were all still waiting by the main road. While the other two were pasturing the horse and looking after the baggage Monkey was amusing
himself by leaping from tree to tree and climbing around the branches as he picked leaves and looked for fruit. Suddenly he turned round and saw a sheet of light.

  This so alarmed him that he jumped out of the tree with a shout of, “This is terrible! Terrible! The master's luck is out.” He pointed as he continued, “Look at the farm. What do you think?” When Pig and Friar Sand both looked they saw a sheet of something like snow but brighter and like silver but shinier.

  “That's done it,” said Pig, “that's done it. The master's run into evil spirits. We'd better go and rescue him straight away.”

  “Stop yelling, brother,” said Monkey. “Neither of you can see just what's there. Wait while I go and take a look.”

  “Do be careful, brother,” said Friar Sand.

  “I can cope,” Monkey replied.

  The splendid Great Sage tightened his tigerskin kilt, pulled out his gold-banded cudgel and took a few strides forward to see that the silken ropes had formed something like a web with thousands of strands. When he felt it with his hands it was somewhat soft and sticky. Not knowing what it was, Monkey raised his cudgel and said, “Never mind thousands of strands. This cudgel could break through tens of thousands of them.”

  He was just about to strike when he stopped to think, “If they were hard I could certainly smash them, but then soft ones would only be knocked flat, and if I alarm the demons and get caught myself that would be a disaster. I'd better make some enquiries before I do any hitting.”

  Who do you think he asked? He made a spell with his hands, said the words of it and sent for an old local god, who ran round and round in his shrine just as if turning a mill. “Old man,” his wife asked, “what are you rushing round and round for? You must be having a fit.”

  “You don't understand,” the local god replied. “There's a Great Sage Equaling Heaven here. I didn't go to meet him. But he's sending for me.”

  “Go and see him then,” his wife replied, “and that'll be that. Why charge round and round in here?”

  “But if I go and see him that cudgel of his hits very hard,” the local deity said. “He doesn't care what you're like-he just hits you.”

  “He won't possibly hit you when he sees how old you are,” his wife replied.

  “He's been cadging free drinks all his life,” the local god said, “and he really loves hitting old people.”

  After talking for a while with his wife the local god had no choice but to go outside and kneel shivering and shaking by the roadside, calling out, “Great Sage, the local deity kowtows to you.”

  “Get up,” Brother Monkey replied, “and stop pretending to be so keen. I'm not going to hit you. I'm just passing through. Tell me where this is.”

  “Which way have you come, Great Sage?” the local deity asked.

  “I've come from the East and I'm heading West,” said Monkey.

  “Which mountain have you reached on your journey from the East?” the local deity asked.

  “That ridge there,” Monkey replied. “Our baggage and the horse are there, aren't they?”

  “That is Gossamer Ridge,” the local deity replied. “Under the ridge there's a cave called Gossamer Cave where seven evil spirits live.”

  “Male or female ones?” Monkey asked.

  “She-devils,” the local deity replied.

  “How powerful is their magic?” Monkey asked.

  “I'm much too weak and insignificant to know that,” the local god replied. “All I can tell you is that a mile due South of here there is a natural hot spring called the Filth-cleansing Spring,” the local god said, “where the Seven Fairies from on high used to bathe. When the seven evil spirits settled here and took over the Filth-cleansing Spring the good spirits didn't try to fight them for it. They let the spirits have it for nothing. I reckon that if even good spirits from Heaven don't dare offend them the evil spirits must have tremendous powers.”

  “What have they taken the spring over for?” Monkey asked.

  “Ever since taking the bathing pool over the monsters have been coming to bathe there three times a day,” the local god replied. “It's already after eleven. They'll be along at noon.”

  “Go back now, local god,” Monkey said when he heard all this, “and wait while I capture them.” The old local god kowtowed to him and went back to his shrine all of a tremble.

  The Great Sage then gave a solo display of his magical powers, shaking himself, turning into a fly, and landing on the tip of a blade of grass to wait beside the path. A little later he heard a rustling, hissing sound like that of silkworms eating leaves or an ocean tide coming in. In the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea the silken ropes had all gone, and the farm looked just the same as it had before. Then there was a creaking noise as the wicker gate opened and the seven women came out laughing and talking noisily. Monkey watched carefully from where he was hiding and saw them talking and laughing as they held each other by the hand and walked shoulder to shoulder across the bridge. They were real beauties:

  Compare them with jade and they were more fragrant;

  They were like flowers but able to talk.

  Their willowy brows were like distant hills;

  Sandalwood-scented mouths were bursting cherries.

  Hair ornaments were of jade;

  Golden lotus feet darted out under crimson skirts.

  They were like the moon goddess come down to earth,

  Immortal girls descending to the world.

  “No wonder the master wanted to come begging for food,” thought Monkey with a laugh, “with all these lovelies here. If these seven beauties have captured him he won't be enough for a single meal for them. They couldn't make him last a couple of days. And if they take it in turns to have their way with him they'll kill him straight off. I'd better go and listen to what they're plotting.”

  The splendid Great Sage flew over with a high-pitched buzz and landed on the topknot of the woman who was walking in front. When she was over the bridge the women behind her caught up with her and called out, “Sister, let's have a bath before we steam the fat monk and eat him up.”

  “These monsters aren't at all economical,” Monkey smiled to himself. “They'd save a lot of firewood if they boiled him. Why steam him instead?” The women walked South, picking flowers and throwing grass at each other, and were soon at the bathing pool, where a very magnificent wall and gateway appeared, with fragrant flowers, among them a bed of orchids, growing all around. One of the women behind him stepped forward and with a whistling sound pushed the double gates open, revealing the pond of naturally hot water inside. As for this water,

  When heaven and earth were first separated

  There were ten suns in the sky

  Till Yi, the fine archer,

  Shot nine of the sun-crows down to the earth,

  Leaving only one golden crow star,

  The true fire of the sun.

  The nine hot springs in heaven and earth

  Are the other nine crows transformed.

  These nine hot springs are

  Cool Fragrance Spring,

  Mountain-companions Spring

  Warm Spring,

  Donghe Spring,

  Mount Huang Spring,

  Xiao'an Spring,

  Guangfen Spring,

  Hot Water Spring,

  And this Filth-cleansing Spring.

  There is a poem about it that goes:

  The same vital force runs in all four seasons;

  Spring continues throughout the autumn.

  The scalding water bubbles like a cauldron;

  The snow-white waves are boiling hot.

  If the waters are spread they help the crops to grow;

  Left where they are they wash worldly dust away.

  Little bubbles spread out like pearls,

  Rolling ones rise like pieces of jade.

  It is rich and smooth although not wine,

  Clear, calm and naturally warm.

  The whole place thrives on its air of goo
d omen:

  It brings good fortune and the natural truth.

  When the beauties wash their flesh is smooth as ice;

  As dirt is soaked away their jade-like bodies are made new.

  The bathing pool was about fifty feet across, a hundred feet long and four feet deep. The water was pure and translucent, and from the bottom of it came up bubbles like rolling pearls or floating jade. In the four sides of the pool there were six or seven pipes through which the water flowed out, keeping warm even when it reached fields up to a mile away. Beside the pool was a three-roomed pavilion, next to the back wall of which stood an eight-legged bench. At each end of the pavilion was a clothes stand painted in coloured lacquers. All this secretly delighted Monkey, who flew straight to one of the stands and landed on it.

  When the women saw how clear and warm the water was they wanted to bathe in it, so they all took their clothes off and hung them on the stands before going into the pool together. This is what Monkey saw:

  They undid the buttons on their clothes,

  Loosened the knots in their gauzy sashes.

  Silvery white were their creamy breasts,

  Snowy their bodies that looked like jade.

  Their arms and elbows were cool as ice,

  And scented shoulders more lovely than if powdered.

  Soft and supple the skin on their stomachs,

  Glistening and clean their backs.

  Their knees and wrists were rounded and soft;

  Only three inches long were their golden lotus feet.

  And as for what lay in between,

  They showed a glimpse of the cave of pleasure.

  The women all jumped into the water and enjoyed themselves as they frolicked in the waves. “If I wanted to hit them,” Monkey thought, “I'd only need to stir the water with my cudgel. It would be like pouring boiling water on a nest of mice: I could kill the lot of them. What a pity. If I hit them I'd kill them, but it wouldn't do my reputation any good. As they say, a real man doesn't fight women. It'd be hopeless if a man like me killed these girls. If I'm not going to hit them I'll have to make things difficult for them so that they can't move.” The splendid Great Sage made a spell with his hands, said the words of it, shook himself and turned into a hungry eagle.