The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 4

by Unknown

  The sword goes forth, the land roils with black dirt.

  Because the elder’s

  In quest of Buddha,

  They strive bitterly, showing great power.

  Water wars with fire to hurt the basic way;2

  Yin-yang cannot unite, each drifting free.

  The two engage in such a lengthy brawl

  That mountain and earth quake as forests sprawl.

  When Eight Rules saw them battling in this manner, he began to murmur against Pilgrim. Turning to Sha Monk, he said, “Brother, Elder Brother’s twiddling! When he was in her just now, he could have sent her a belly-full-of-red with his fists and crawled out by punching through her stomach. That way he would have had done with her, wouldn’t he? Why did he have to come out through her mouth and fight with her, allowing her to be so insolent?”

  “You’re quite right,” replied Sha Monk, “but Elder Brother, after all, has worked very hard to have Master rescued from a deep cave. Now that he has to fight some more with the monster-spirit, I think Master should sit by himself while you and I go with our weapons to lend some assistance to Elder Brother. Let’s go and knock down that monster-spirit.”

  “No! No! No!” said Eight Rules, waving his hand. “He has magic powers, but we’re quite useless.”

  “What are you saying?” asked Sha Monk. “That’s something that will benefit everyone. We may be useless, but even our fart can add to the wind!” That Idiot did become aroused for the moment; whipping out his rake, he cried, “Let’s go then!”

  Abandoning their master, they both mounted the wind and rushed forward to battle, madly delivering blows to the monster-spirit with their rake and staff. The monster-spirit was already having difficulty withstanding Pilgrim by herself; when she saw the two of them, she knew that defeat was certain. Twirling around, she tried to flee.

  “Brothers, catch her!” snapped Pilgrim. When the monster-spirit saw that they were pressing, she yanked off the flower slipper from her right foot and blew her immortal breath on it, crying, “Change!” It at once took on her appearance, attacking her pursuers with two swords. She herself, with one shake of her body, changed into a clear gust of wind and sped away. Now, you may think that we were only speaking of her defeat and of her retreat out of regard for her own life. How could you know that this had to be the turn of events? It must be that the star of calamity had not withdrawn its influence over Tripitaka. As the monster-spirit sped by the cave entrance, she saw Tripitaka sitting all alone beneath the towered gate. Rushing up to him, she snatched him and the luggage as well and bit through the reins; she succeeded in abducting both person and horse into the cave, where we shall leave them for the moment.

  We tell you instead about Eight Rules, who found an opening and struck down the monster-spirit with one blow of his rake. Then he discovered that it was only a flower slipper. “You two idiots!” said Pilgrim. “It’s enough for you to look after Master. Who asked you to come and help?”

  “There you are, Sha Monk!” said Eight Rules. “Didn’t I tell you not to come? This monkey’s sick in his brains! We help him to subdue the fiend, but he blames us instead!”

  “Where on earth did you subdue a fiend?” Pilgrim said. “When she fought with me yesterday, that fiend tricked me by this ploy of dropping her slipper. I wonder how Master is faring now that you two have left his side. Let’s hurry back and look!”

  The three of them hurried back, but their master indeed had vanished. There was not even a trace of the luggage or the white horse. So astonished was Eight Rules that he dashed back and forth in confusion, while Sha Monk searched hither and yon. The Great Sage Sun too was racked by anxiety as he looked everywhere, and then he saw half a rein lying by the side of the road. Picking it up, he could not stop the tears flowing from his eyes. “O Master!” he cried aloud. “When I left I took leave of both man and horse; when I returned I could see only this rope!” Thus it was that

  Seeing the saddle he recalled the horse;

  Shedding tears he thought of his kin.

  When Eight Rules saw him shedding tears, however, he broke into loud guffaws with face raised toward the sky.

  “You coolie!” scolded Pilgrim. “You want to disband again!”

  “O Elder Brother!” said Eight Rules, still laughing. “It’s not like that. Master must have been abducted into the cave once more by the monster-spirit. As the proverb says, ‘Success comes only with a third try.’ You have entered the cave twice. Now go in a third time, and I’m sure that you’ll be able to bring out Master.”

  Wiping away his tears, Pilgrim replied, “All right! Since things are this way, I have little choice but to go in again. Now that you don’t even have to worry about the luggage and the horse, you must take care to guard the entrance.”

  Dear Great Sage! He turned and leaped into the cave; not undergoing transformation, he merely retained his characteristic appearance. Truly

  Of strange-looking cheeks and a valiant mind,

  He grew up a fiend with great magic strength.

  His face like a saddle curved up and down;

  His eyes flashed gold beams that blazed like fire.

  Hard like needles were his whole body’s furs;

  His tiger-skin kilt jingled with loud floral bells.

  In Heav’n he crashed through ten thousand clouds;

  His rod in the sea lifted mountainous waves.

  That day his might beat up the devarājas

  And repelled one hundred and eight thousand foes.

  Appointed Great Sage, the Handsome Monkey Sprite,

  He used, by custom, a golden-hooped rod.

  In the West today displaying his might,

  To save Tripitaka he enters the cave.

  Look at him! He stopped the cloudy luminosity after he reached the residence of the monster-spirit, where he found the towered gates were all shut. Without regard for good or ill, he broke through with one blow of his rod and barged in. It was completely quiet and not a trace of the inhabitants could be found. The Tang Monk was no longer seen by the east corridor; the furniture in the pavilion and the various utensils had all disappeared.

  There were, you see, some three hundred miles of living space inside the cave, and the monster-spirit had many residences. When she had brought the Tang Monk to this particular spot the time before, Pilgrim had found them. Now that she had abducted the Tang Monk again, she feared that Pilgrim would return to the same place, and so she immediately moved somewhere else. Our Pilgrim was so exasperated that he pounded his chest and stamped his feet, crying, “O Master! You are a misfortune-begotten Tripitaka Tang, a scripture monk forged by calamity! Alas! This road is familiar enough to me. Why aren’t you here? Where should old Monkey look for you?”

  As he was shouting like this in great annoyance, his nose suddenly caught a whiff of scented breeze. Calming down all at once, he said to himself, “This incense drifted out from the rear. They must be back there.” Gripping the iron rod, he strode in but found no movement whatever—only three small chambers. At the back of one of these chambers was a lacquered sacrificial table with open-mouthed dragons carved on both sides. On the table was a huge incense urn of melted gold from which fragrant incense smoke curled upward. Above the urn was hung a large plaque with the following inscription in gold letters: The Tablet of Honored Father, Devarāja Li. Slightly below it to one side was another inscription: The Tablet of Honored Brother Naṭa, the Third Prince. Filled with delight by what he saw, Pilgrim immediately abandoned his search for the fiend or the Tang Monk. He gave his iron rod a squeeze to change it back into an embroidery needle, which he could store in his ear. Stretching forth his hands, he took the plaque and the urn and trod on his cloudy luminosity to go back out to the entrance of the cave, hee-hawing in continuous laughter on the way.

  When Eight Rules and Sha Monk heard him, they stepped aside to meet him, saying, “Elder Brother, you must have succeeded in rescuing Master, and that’s why you’re so happy.”

&
nbsp; “No need for us to go rescue Master,” said Pilgrim, still guffawing, “just make our demand known to this plaque.” O Elder Brother!” said Eight Rules. “This plaque is no monster-spirit, nor does it know how to speak. Why should we make our demand known to it?”

  “Take a look, both of you,” said Pilgrim as he placed the plaque on the ground. Sha Monk approached and saw the inscriptions: The Tablet of Honored Father Devarāja Li, and The Tablet of Honored Brother Naṭa, the Third Prince. “What’s the meaning of this?” he asked.

  “It’s something to which the monster-spirit makes offerings,” replied Pilgrim. “When I broke into her residence, I found that both persons and things had disappeared. There was only this plaque. She has to be the daughter of Devarāja Li, the younger sister of the third prince, who has descended to the Region Below out of profane longings. Disguised as a fiend, she has abducted our master. If we don’t demand of the persons whose names appear on this plaque, whom should we ask? While the two of you stand guard here, let old Monkey take the plaque and go up to Heaven to file charges before the Jade Emperor. That’ll make Devarāja Li and his son return our master.”

  “O Elder Brother!” said Eight Rules. “As the proverb says, ‘To charge someone with a mortal offense is itself a mortal offense.’ You can’t do it unless your cause is just. Besides, do you think that filing charges before the throne is an easy thing? You’d better tell me how you plan to go about it.”

  “I have my way,” said Pilgrim with a laugh. “This plaque and this urn I shall use as evidence. In addition, I shall file a formal, written complaint.”

  “What are you going to put in that complaint?” asked Eight Rules. “Let’s hear it.”

  Pilgrim said, “This is what I plan to say:

  The plaintiff Sun Wukong, whose age and birthday are recorded here in the document, is the disciple of the priest, Tripitaka Tang, who has been sent by the Tang Court in the Land of the East to seek scriptures in the Western Heaven. The complaint I lodge concerns the crime of abetting a monster in kidnapping a human. I hereby accuse Li Jing, the Pagoda-Bearer Devarāja, along with Prince Naṭa, his son, of gross negligence in domestic affairs, which caused his own daughter to become a runaway. At the Region Below she had assumed the form of monstrous perversity in the Bottomless Cave of Mount Void-Entrapping, bringing vexation and harm to countless humans. She has, at the moment, abducted my master into the crooked recesses of her habitation, where he cannot be found at all. I have no choice but to charge father and son with an act of great atrocity, for allowing the daughter to become a spirit and to harm people. I beg you, therefore, to sustain in your great mercy my complaint and arrest the culprits, so that perversity may be brought to submission, my master may be rescued, and the guilt of the offenders may be clearly established. In anticipation of your kind assistance, I hereby submit my complaint.

  On hearing these words, Eight Rules and Sha Monk were terribly pleased, both saying, “O Elder Brother, your complaint is most reasonable! You will undoubtedly win the case. You’d better go there at once, for we fear that a little delay may result in the monster-spirit’s taking our master’s life.”

  “I’ll hurry! I’ll hurry!” said Pilgrim. “It’ll take me no more than the time needed for boiling tea, or at most for rice to be cooked, to get back here.”

  Dear Great Sage! Holding the plaque and the urn, he leaped up to mount the auspicious cloud and went straight before the South Heaven Gate. When Devarājas Powerful and Dhṛtarāṣṭra, who were standing guard at the gate, saw him, both bent low to bow to him and dared not bar his way. He was permitted to go straight up to the Hall of Perfect Light, where he was greeted by Zhang, Ge, Xu, and Qiu, the four Celestial Masters. “Why has the Great Sage come?” they asked.

  “I have a document here,” replied Pilgrim, “which I intend to file as a formal complaint.”

  “This caster of blame!” said one of the astonished masters. “I wonder whom he plans to accuse.” They had no choice but to lead him into the Hall of Divine Mists to announce his arrival. He was then summoned into the presence of the Jade Emperor.

  After putting down the plaque and the urn and paying homage to the throne, he presented his plaint, which the Immortal Ge received and spread out on the imperial desk. When the Jade Emperor had read its content from beginning to end, he signed the document and endorsed it as an imperial decree. Then he commanded Gold Star Venus, Longevity of the West, to take the decree and go to the Cloud-Tower Palace to summon Devarāja Li, the Pagoda-Bearer, to appear before the throne.

  “I beg the Heaven Lord to punish him properly,” said Pilgrim, walking forward, “or else he may start some other trouble.”

  The Jade Emperor gave this order also: “Let the plaintiff go along.”

  “Should old Monkey really go along?” asked Pilgrim.

  “Since His Majesty has already issued the decree,” said one of the Celestial Masters, “you may go with the Gold Star.”

  Pilgrim indeed mounted the clouds with the Gold Star to reach the Cloud-Tower Palace, which was, you see, the residence of the devarāja. There was a divine youth standing in front of the gate who recognized the Gold Star. He went inside at once and announced, “The Holy Father Gold Star Venus has arrived.” The devarāja went out to meet his guest; when he saw that the Gold Star was bearing an imperial decree, he asked immediately for incense to be lighted. Then he caught sight of Pilgrim following the Gold Star in, and the devarāja stirred with anger.

  Why was he angered, you ask? During the time when Pilgrim caused great disturbance at the Celestial Palace, the Jade Emperor once appointed the devarāja as the Demon-Subduing Grand Marshal and Prince Naṭa as the God of the Three Charities Grand Assembly. They were to lead the Heaven hosts against Pilgrim, but they could not prevail even after several engagements. The defeat of five hundred years ago, you see, still rankled him, and that was why he became angry. Unable to restrain himself, he asked, “Old Longevity, what’s that decree you’re bearing?”

  “It happens to be a complaint,” replied the Gold Star, “lodged against you by the Great Sage Sun.”

  The devarāja was already sorely annoyed; when he heard this, he became enraged, saying, “What’s he accusing me of?”

  “The crime of abetting a monster in kidnapping a human,” replied the Gold Star. “After you’ve lit the incense, you may read it for yourself.”

  Panting hard, the devarāja hurriedly set out the incense table; after he had expressed his gratitude toward the sky and kowtowed, he spread out the decree. A careful reading of the document, however, sent him into such a rage that he gripped the table with both hands and said, “This ape-head! He has so wrongly accused me!”

  The Gold Star said, “Don’t get so mad! He happens to have a plaque and an urn for evidence before the throne, and he claims that all those objects point to your own daughter.”

  “But I have only three sons and a daughter,” said the devarāja. “The eldest is Suvarnaṭa, who serves Tathāgata as the vanguard of the Law. My second son is Mokṣa, who is the disciple of Guanshiyin at South Sea. My third son Naṭa is with me and attends court night and day as an imperial guardsman. My only daughter, named Zhenying, happens to be only seven years old. She doesn’t even know much of human affairs. How could she be a monster-spirit? If you don’t believe me, let me carry her out for you to see. This ape-head is mighty insolent! Let’s not say that I am a marshal in Heaven, who has received such a high appointment that I’m permitted to execute someone first before memorializing to the throne. Even if I were one of the common people in the Region Below, I should not be falsely accused. The Law says, ‘A false accusation should receive a thrice-heavy penalty.’” He turned to his subordinates with the order: “Tie up this ape-head with the fiend-binding rope!”

  The Mighty-Spirit God, General Fish-Belly, and Marshal Vajrayakṣa, who were standing in a row down at the courtyard, immediately surged forward and tied up Pilgrim. “Devarāja Li,” said the Gold Star, “you’d b
etter not start any trouble! He is one of the two persons decreed by the throne to come here to summon you. That rope of yours is quite heavy. If you hurt him in any way, you’ll be the loser!”

  “O Gold Star!” said the devarāja. “How could you allow him to file false charges and disturb the peace like that? Please be seated, while I cut off this ape-head with the fiend-hacking scimitar. Then I’ll return with you to see the throne.”

  When the Gold Star learned that he was about to raise the scimitar, his heart quivered and his bladder shook as he said to Pilgrim, “You’ve made a mistake! Filing charges before the throne is no light thing! Why didn’t you try to ascertain the truth first? All your foolish doings now may cause you to lose your life. What’ll you do?”

  Not frightened in the least, Pilgrim said, full of smiles, “Relax, old Minister, it’s nothing! Old Monkey has to do his own business this way: he must lose first, and then he’ll win.”

  Hardly had he finished speaking when the devarāja wielded his scimitar and brought it down hard on Pilgrim’s head. All at once the third prince rushed forward and parried the blow with the fiend-hacking sword, crying, “Father King, please calm your anger!” The devarāja turned pale with alarm.

  Ah! When the father saw the son parrying the scimitar with his own sword, he should have commanded the son to turn back. Why should he turn pale with alarm? This is the reason, you see:

  When this child was born to the devarāja,3 he had on his left hand the word Na, and on his right the word Ṭa, and that was why he was named Naṭa. On the third morning after he was born, this prince already decided to bathe in the ocean and caused a great disaster. He overturned the water-crystal palace and wanted to pull out the tendons of one of the dragons to use them for a belt. When the devarāja learned of the incident, he feared that his son might prove to be a calamity afterward and sought to have him killed. Naṭa became enraged; knife in hand, he cut off his own flesh to give it back to his mother and carved up his bones to give them back to his father. After he had, as it were, repaid his father’s sperm and his mother’s blood, his soul went to the region of ultimate bliss in the West to complain to Buddha.