The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 4

by Unknown

  The station master said, “As there are no two suns in Heaven, so there are no two rational principles on Earth. The rearing of children begins with the sperm of the father and the blood of the mother. After the tenth month of conception, the child will be born in due time; and after birth, the child will be fed with milk for at least three years, until the bodily features are fully formed. You think we do not know about this?”

  “According to what you have just told me,” replied Tripitaka, “the people here are no different from those of my humble nation. But when I entered the city just now, I saw that there was placed in front of each household a geese coop, inside of which was placed a little boy. I don’t understand this, and that’s why I dare request an explanation.”

  “Elder, don’t mind that!” said the station master, at once lowering his voice and whispering into Tripitaka’s ear. “Don’t ask about that, and don’t be concerned with that! Don’t speak of it, even! Please rest now, and you can be on your way tomorrow.”

  On hearing this, however, the elder tugged at the station master and persisted in his request for an explanation. As he shook his head and wagged his finger, all the station master could mutter was, “Be careful with what you say!” Refusing to let go, Tripitaka insisted that he be told the reason. The station master had little choice but to send away all his official attendants, after which he said quietly, alone, by the light of the lamps, “The matter of the geese coops that you mentioned just now happens to be instigated by the unruliness of our lord. Why do you persist in asking about it?”

  “What do you mean by unruliness?” asked Tripitaka. “You must help me understand before I can rest.”

  “This country,” said the station master, “used to be called the Bhikṣu Kingdom, but recent folk songs3 have changed the name to the Young Masters’ City. Three years ago, an old man disguised as a Daoist arrived with a young girl, barely sixteen and with a face as beautiful as Guanyin’s. He presented her as a tribute to our Majesty, who became so infatuated with her that he gave her the title of Queen Beauty. In recent times he would not even look at any of the royal consorts dwelling in the six chambers and three palaces. Night and day he cares only to indulge in amorous dalliance with this one girl until he is reduced to a physical wreck. Constantly fatigued, emaciated, and unable to eat or drink, he has not long to live. The royal hospital has tried all its best prescriptions, but no cure has been found. However, that Daoist, who has been appointed the royal father-in-law, claims to possess a secret formula from beyond the ocean which can lengthen our lord’s life. Some time ago he went, in fact, to the Ten Islets and the Three Isles to gather herbs. After his return and the preparation of all the medications, he still requires the terrible medical supplement4 of one thousand one hundred and eleven hearts of young boys. When the medicine is taken with soup made from boiling these boys’ hearts, the king, so the Daoist claims, will live to a thousand years without aging. Those little boys you saw in the geese coops are the selected ones, who are being fed and nurtured before they are slaughtered. Fearing the law of the king, the parents dare not even weep. They can only express their outrage by nicknaming this place the Young Masters’ City. When you go to court tomorrow, please confine your business to certifying your travel rescript. You mustn’t mention this matter at all.” He ended his speech and immediately withdrew.

  Our elder was so horrified by what he heard that his bones weakened and his tendons turned numb. Unable to restrain the tears rolling down his cheeks, he blurted out: “Ah, befuddled king! So you grew ill on account of your incontinence and debauchery. But how could you take the lives of so many innocent boys? O misery! O misery! This pain kills me!” For this we have a testimonial poem that says:

  One foolish tyrant who misses the truth

  Has harmed himself with the pleasure he craves.

  He seeks long life by taking lives of boys;

  He kills the plebs to lighten Heaven’s scourge.

  Steadfast in compassion the monk remains;

  Unheard-of horror the master reveals.

  As he sighs and sheds tears in the lamplight,

  Buddha’s disciple is o’ercome by pain.

  Drawing near to Tripitaka, Eight Rules said, “Master, what’s the matter with you? ‘You’re always picking up someone’s coffin and crying over it in your own house!’ Don’t be so sad! Remember the adage:

  The ruler wants the subject to die,

  And the subject who does not is disloyal;

  The father wants the son to perish,

  And the son who does not is unfilial.

  He is hurting his own people, but what does that have to do with you? Come, let’s shed our robes and sleep. ‘Let’s not worry on behalf of the ancients!’”

  Still shedding tears, Tripitaka said, “O disciple, you are so hardhearted! Those of us who have left the family must accumulate merit by multiplying our virtuous acts; our very first obligation must be the practice of appropriate means. How could this befuddled king indulge in such a lawless act? I have never heard of such nonsense that eating people’s hearts can lengthen one’s life. How could I not grieve over something like this?”

  “Please do not grieve just yet, Master,” said Sha Monk. “Wait till tomorrow when we have our rescript certified. We can boldly discuss the matter with the king, and if he doesn’t listen to us, we can also ascertain what kind of person this royal father-in-law is. Perhaps it is a monster-spirit, desirous of devouring human hearts, that has devised such a plan. That may well be the case.”

  “Wujing is perfectly right,” said Pilgrim. “Master, you should sleep now. Let old Monkey enter court with you tomorrow and scrutinize the royal father-in-law. If he is a man, he may have embarked on the path of heterodoxy, being ignorant of the proper Way and thinking that only herbs and medicines will achieve realized immortality. Let old Monkey disclose to him the essential themes of cultivation by means of one’s natural endowments and enlighten him into embracing the truth. If he’s a monster or a fiend, I’ll arrest him for the king to see, so that he may learn continence and find out how to nourish his own body. I most certainly will not allow the king to take the lives of those boys.”

  When Tripitaka heard these words, he quickly bowed to Pilgrim and said, “O disciple, what you’ve proposed is most marvelous! Most marvelous! When you see that befuddled king, however, you shouldn’t ask about this matter right away. For I fear that the befuddled king, without looking properly into the matter, would immediately find us guilty of listening to false rumors. What would we do then?”

  “Old Monkey has his own magic power,” said Pilgrim, smiling. “First, I will remove these boys in the geese coops from the city, so that tomorrow he will have no one from whom he can take out the hearts. The officials of the land will undoubtedly report to the throne, and that befuddled king will surely respond by discussing the matter with the royal father-in-law or by asking for more boys to be selected. At that point we will memorialize to him also. Then he will not blame us.”

  Highly pleased, Tripitaka said again, “How can you make those boys leave the city? If you can, the virtue of my worthy disciple is great as Heaven! You should do this quickly. If you delay, you may be too late.” Arousing his spiritual powers, Pilgrim rose at once and gave this instruction to Eight Rules and Sha Monk: “Sit here with Master and let me act. When you see a gust of cold wind blowing, you’ll know that the boys are leaving the city.” Whereupon the three of them, Tripitaka and his two disciples, began chanting: “We submit to the Life-Saving Buddha of Medicine!5 We submit to the Life-Saving Buddha of Medicine!”

  Once our Great Sage had gone out the door, he rose with a whistle to midair, where he made the magic sign and recited the magic words: “Let Oṃ purify the dharma realm!” With this he summoned the god of the city, the local spirit, the god of the soil, and various immortal officials together with the Guardians of Five Quarters, the Four Sentinels, the Six Gods of Darkness and Six Gods of Light, and the Guardians of Monasteries
, who arrived in the air to bow to him, saying, “Great Sage, for what urgent business have you summoned us in the thick of night?”

  “Because we came upon an unruly king in the Bhikṣu kingdom,” replied Pilgrim, “who has listened to some monstrous pervert’s tale that the hearts of little boys, when taken as a medical supplement, would grant him longevity. My master is so disturbed that he has resolved to save lives and exterminate the fiend. That is why old Monkey has asked each one of you to come here; I want you to use your magic powers and move all these boys, including the geese coops, out of the city. Take them into a mountain valley or deep into a forest and supply them with fruit to eat so that they won’t starve. You must also provide them with secret protection and prevent them from crying or being frightened. When I have eliminated the perversity and restored the king to the proper rule of his state, you may then return the boys just as we are about to leave.” When the various gods heard this command, each of them exercised his magic power as they dropped down from the clouds. The city immediately was filled with churning cold wind and spreading fog.

  The cold wind darkened a sky full of stars;

  The fog spreading bedimmed the radiant moon.

  At the very first

  They drifted and floated down;

  But thereafter

  They roared and rumbled through—

  Drifting and floating down,

  They sought to save the boys from every house;

  Roaring and rumbling through,

  They found the geese coops to help flesh and blood.

  People stayed home for the invading chill,

  And piercing cold turned garments iron-hard.

  Parents fretted in vain

  And kinfolk were aggrieved,

  As cold wind churned the earth

  To remove the boys in coops.

  This night they may be lonely;

  By dawn they will all be pleased.

  We have also a poem as a testimonial, which says:

  Since mercy e’er abounds in Buddha’s gate,

  Goodness perfected is what’s called the Great.6

  All saints and sages must virtue increase;

  The sum of Triratna7 and five laws8 is peace.

  Had not a king at Bhikṣu state gone bad,

  A thousand youngsters’ fate would still be sad.

  When Pilgrim saves them for his master’s sake,

  Merit above salvation he will make.

  It was about the hour of the third watch during that night when the various deities transported those geese coops to be hidden at another place.

  Lowering his auspicious luminosity, Pilgrim went to the courtyard of the posthouse, where he could hear his three companions still chanting, “We submit to the Life-Saving Buddha of Medicine!” In great delight, he drew near and called out, “Master, I’ve returned! What do you think of the cold wind?”

  “That was some cold wind!” replied Eight Rules.

  “But what about rescuing the boys?” asked Tripitaka.

  “They have already been taken out one by one,” replied Pilgrim, “and will be escorted back to the city by the time we’re ready to leave.” Tripitaka thanked him again and again before retiring.

  By dawn, Tripitaka began to dress the moment he awoke, saying, “Wukong, I want to attend the morning court so that our travel rescript may be certified.” “Master,” said Pilgrim, “if you go by yourself, I fear that you may not be able to accomplish much. Let old Monkey go with you to ascertain whether the kingdom is governed by rectitude or perversity.”

  “But you usually refuse to perform the proper ceremony when you greet a king,” said Tripitaka, “and I fear he may be offended.”

  “I won’t show myself,” said Pilgrim. “I’ll follow you in secret, and I can protect you at the same time.”

  Highly pleased, Tripitaka instructed Eight Rules and Sha Monk to watch the luggage and the horse, and then departed. When the station master saw them off, he noticed that the attire of the elder was quite different from that of the day before:

  He wore a brocade cassock lined with strange treasures.

  A gold-tipped Vairocana hat topped his head.

  His hands held up a nine-ringed priestly staff;

  His chest enclosed one wondrous, godly spark.

  The travel rescript he had on himself,

  Packed in a silk purse placed inside the wrap.

  He walked like an arhat come down to earth,

  With a genuine, living Buddha’s face.

  After greeting Tripitaka, the station master whispered in his ear and told him to mind his own business. As Tripitaka nodded and murmured his assent, the Great Sage stepped to one side of the door and recited a spell; with one shake of his body he changed into a mole cricket and flew up to alight on top of Tripitaka’s hat. The elder left the postal station and headed straight for the court.

  On arriving, he ran into the Custodian of the Yellow Gate, to whom he bowed and said, “This humble priest is someone sent by the Great Tang of the Land of the East to seek scriptures in the Western Heaven. It is proper for me, after arriving in your noble region, to have my travel rescript certified. I therefore wish to have an audience with the throne. I beg you to make this known for me.” Upon which, that Custodian of the Yellow Gate made his report.

  In delight, the king said, “A priest from a distant land must be most accomplished in the Way. Show him in quickly.” The Custodian thus summoned the elder to enter the court; after going through the ceremonial greetings beneath the steps, he was granted permission to take a seat in the royal hall. As he thanked the king and sat down, the elder noticed that the king had

  Emaciated features

  And a listless spirit.

  He raised his hands

  But could barely salute;

  And when he spoke,

  His voice started and stopped.

  When the elder presented him with the rescript, the king stared at it with unseeing eyes for a long time before he was able to affix his treasure seal on the document and hand it back to the elder.

  The king was just about to question our elder further on the reason for seeking scriptures when the official attending the throne reported, “The royal father-in-law has arrived.” At once supporting himself on a young palace eunuch, the king struggled down from the dragon couch in order to receive the visitor. Our elder was so taken aback that he too leaped up and stood to one side. As he turned to look, he discovered an old Daoist swaggering up from the jade steps. The man Tripitaka saw

  Had on his head a cloud-patterned, priestly wrap of pale yellow damask,

  And he wore a crane-feathered gown of brown silk fretted with plum designs.

  A blue sash, braided with three silk and woolen cords, wrapped his waist;

  His feet trod cloud-patterned slippers woven of grass-linen and hemp.

  His hand held a nine-jointed staff of dried vine carved like a coiling dragon.

  Down his chest hung a silk purse embroidered with raised dragon-and-phoenix patterns.

  His jadelike face was shiny and smooth;

  A white beard flowed down his chin;

  His pupils blazed golden flames;

  His eyes were longer than his brows.

  Clouds moved with each step he took,

  And fragrant mists encircled him.

  Hands folded, all officials beneath the steps

  Shouted: “The royal father-in-law has entered court!”

  When that royal father-in-law arrived at the front of the treasure hall, he did not even bother to pay homage to the king. His head held high, he walked boldly up the steps while the king bowed and said, “We are delighted that the royal father-in-law has honored us with his divine presence this morning.” He was at once asked to be seated on the cushioned couch on the left.

  Taking a step forward, Tripitaka also bent low to greet him, saying, “Sir royal father-in-law, this humble cleric salutes you.” Sitting loftily on his couch, the royal father-in-law did not re
turn the greetings at all; instead, he turned to say to the king, “Where did this monk come from?”

  “He happens to be someone sent by the Tang court in the Land of the East to seek scriptures in the Western Heaven,” replied the king. “He’s here to have his travel rescript certified.”

  “The journey leading to the West,” said the royal father-in-law with a laugh, “is shrouded in darkness!9 What’s so good about that?” Tripitaka said, “Since ancient times the West has been the noble region of ultimate bliss. How could it not be good?”

  The king asked, “We have heard from the ancients too that monks are the disciples of Buddha. We would like to know in truth whether a monk is able to transcend death, whether submission to Buddha can bring a person longevity.”

  On hearing this, Tripitaka quickly pressed his palms together in front of his breast to give his reply:

  For the person who’s a monk,

  All causal relations have been abolished;

  And to him who understands reality,

  All things are but emptiness.

  He of great knowledge, both wide and comprehensive,10

  Exists placidly in the realm of no birth;

  The true mysteries perceived in silence,

  He roams freely in peace and tranquillity.

  With no attachments in the Three Realms, all elementary principles are known;

  Since his six senses are purged, he has insights into all causes.

  He who would strengthen knowledge and consciousness

  Must perforce know the mind;

  For a mind purified shines in solitary enlightenment,

  And a mind preserved pierces all mental projections.

  The face of truth, without want or excess,

  Can be seen even in a previous life;

  But shapes of delusion, though formed, decline at last.

  Why seek them beyond bounds?

  Sedentary meditation

  Is the very source of concentration;

  Almsgiving and charity

  Are the foundation of austerity.

  He who has great wisdom will appear foolish,

  For he knows how not to act in every affair;

  He who’s good at planning will not scheme,