by Unknown
A path of flagstones moss-lined
And wood gates wistaria-entwined.
On four sides are mountains lambent
And trees filled with birdsong strident.
Pines and bamboos join in thick green;
Profusive rare blossoms are seen.
Deep in the clouds and out of the way
Is a bamboo-fenced thatched hut to stay.
From a long way away they caught sight of an old woman, leaning on the wooden gate and weeping bitterly, crying out for her son all the while. When the woodcutter saw his own mother, he abandoned the elder and rushed up to the wooden gate. As he went to his knees, he cried, “Mother, your son’s here!”
Embracing him, the old woman said, “O my child! When you did not return home these last few days, I supposed that you were seized by the mountain lord and killed, and the very thought of it gave me unbearable pain. If you weren’t harmed, why did you wait till today before returning? Where are your ropes, your pole, and your ax?”
The woodcutter kowtowed before replying, “Mother, your son indeed was taken away by the mountain lord and tied to a tree. It would have been truly difficult to preserve my life if it hadn’t been for these several venerable fathers. That one happens to be an arhat sent by the Tang court of the Land of the East to go seek scriptures in the Western Heaven. He too was captured by the mountain lord and bound to a tree. His three disciples, however, possess vast magic powers. They succeeded in slaying the mountain lord, who turned out to be the spirit of a spotted leopard. Then they burned to death a great number of the little monsters. When they freed and rescued that old venerable father, they rescued your child as well. Their kindness to me is high as Heaven and thick as Earth! If it hadn’t been for them, your child would certainly have perished. Now the mountain is quite safe, and even if your child journeys through the night, there’ll be no danger.”
When the old woman heard these words, she bowed with each step she took to receive the elder and the three disciples into her thatched cottage. After they were seated, mother and son kowtowed repeatedly to thank them before rushing into the kitchen to prepare a vegetarian meal.
“Brother woodcutter,” said Eight Rules, “I realize that yours is a humble livelihood. You may feed us a simple meal, but please don’t go to the trouble of making any elaborate preparation.”
“To tell you the truth, Venerable Father,” replied the woodcutter, “ours indeed is a lowly abode in the mountains. There are no large black mushrooms, butt on mushrooms, Szechwan peppers, or star anise. We have only a few items of wild vegetation to present to you all as a mere token of our gratitude.”
“Sorry to have caused you such inconvenience!” said Eight Rules, chuckling. “Just make it snappy, for we’re getting awfully hungry!”
“In a moment! In a moment!” said the woodcutter. Indeed, in a moment the tables and chairs were spread out and wiped clean, and several dishes of wild vegetation were brought out. What you see2 are the
Yellow cabbage lightly blanched
And white beans pickled and minced.
Water polygonum and purslane,
Shepherd’s purse and Wild-goose-intestine.3
The Swallow-not-coming4 both fragrant and tender;
Bean sprouts with small buds both crisp and green.
Horse-blue5 roots cooked till soft;
Dog-footprints6 plainly toasted.
Cat’s-ears7
And bi8 dropped in the wilds.
The Ashen-stalk,9 cooked very soft, is esculent.
The Scissors’-handle10
And Cow’s-pool-profit,11
The Hollow-snail12 upturned and filled, the broomlike shepherd’s purse.
The broken-rice-qi,13
The Wocaiqi14—
These few items are both fragrant and smooth.
Niaoying15 flowers fried in oil
And most praiseworthy water-chestnuts.
Rushes’ stems and tender watercress—
Four aqueous plants truly rich and pure.
The Wheat-wearing-lady16
Is coy and good;
The Torn-worn-cassock,17
No need to wear it;
Below the bitter hemp are bamboo props.
The Little-bird’s-cotton-coat18
And the Monkey’s-footprints19
Are so oily when fried that you have to eat them.
The Slanted hao, the Green hao, and the Mother-hugging hao;20
Some tiny moths have flown atop the flat buckwheat.
To bare Goat-ears21
And Gouqi22 roots
You add but Black-blue23 and there’s no need for oil.
These wild vegetations and a meal of rice
The woodman truly offers as gifts of thanks.
After master and disciples had eaten their fill, they at once made preparation to leave. Not daring to detain them for long, the woodcutter asked his mother to come out to thank and bow to their visitors once more while he kowtowed repeatedly. Having tidied his clothes, the woodcutter then took up a staff made from the trunk of a date tree to escort the pilgrims out the door. While Sha Monk led the horse, Eight Rules toted the luggage, and Pilgrim followed closely to one side, the elder, riding the horse, folded his hands before his chest and said, “Brother woodcutter, please lead the way. We shall take proper leave of you when we reach the main road.” They then descended from the heights and headed for the slope, following the turns of the brook. Musing as he rode, the elder said, “O disciples!
Since leaving my lord to go to the West,
I’ve walked the path of an unending quest.
In mountains and streams disasters await;
My life has been the fiends’ and monsters’ bait.
Tripitaka’s the sole thought on my mind;
The Ninefold Heaven’s all I hope to find.
When will I from such toil my respite earn
And, merit done, to the Tang court return?”
On hearing this, the woodcutter said, “Venerable Father, please cast aside your worries. In less than a thousand miles on this main road to the West will be the Kingdom of India, the home of ultimate bliss.”
When he heard this, the elder at once dismounted and said, “We’ve caused you inconvenience to come this far. If that is the main road before us, let me urge you to return to your house, brother woodcutter, and do thank your honored mother for us for that sumptuous vegetarian repast. This humble cleric has few tokens of gratitude to offer except the promise of reciting scriptures morning and evening on your behalf, so that both of you, mother and son, will be blessed with peace and long life of a hundred years.” The woodcutter respectfully agreed and walked back, while master and disciples headed straight for the West. Truly,
The fiend subdued, they leave their hard ordeal;
The kindness received, they journey with zeal.
We do not know how many more days it will take them to reach the Western Heaven; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
EIGHTY-SEVEN
The Phoenix-Immortal Prefecture offends Heaven and suffers drought;
The Great Sage Sun advocates virtue and provides rain.
The Great Way’s hidden and deep—
How it waxes and wanes,
Once told, will astonish both gods and spirits:
Enfolding the universe,
Cutting through one’s native light,1
It grants the world true, matchless bliss.
Before the Spirit Vulture Peak,
The treasure pearl, when taken out,
Will blaze forth five kinds of radiance
To illumine all life in the cosmos;
Those who know live long as mountains and seas.2
We were telling you about Tripitaka and his three disciples, who took leave of the woodcutter and descended the Mist-Concealing Mountain to proceed on the main road. After traveling for several days, they found themselves approaching a city.
“Wukong,” said Tripitaka, “can you
see whether the city ahead of us is the Kingdom of India?”
“No! No!” replied Pilgrim, waving his hands. “Though the place of Tathāgata is named Ultimate Bliss, there is no city as such, only a large mountain in which there are terraces and towered buildings. The name there is the Great Thunderclap Monastery of the Spirit Mountain. Even if we have arrived at the Kingdom of India, it doesn’t mean that that’s where Tathāgata lives. Heaven knows how great a distance there is between the kingdom and the Spirit Mountain! The city over there, I suppose, must be some sort of outer prefecture of India, but we’ll know more once we get near it.”
In a little while they reached the outside of the city. Dismounting, Tripitaka and his disciples walked through the triple gates. Inside they found little human activity, and the streets seemed rather desolate. When they reached the edge of the market, they saw many people wearing blue robes standing in rows left and right; a few who had on official caps and belts were standing beneath the eaves of a building. The four pilgrims proceeded along the street, but the people would not step aside for them at all. As Zhu Eight Rules had always been a country bumpkin, he stuck out his long snout and yelled, “Get out of the way! Get out of the way!”
When those people raised their heads and caught sight of a shape like that, they turned numb with fear and fell all over the place. “A monster-spirit’s here! A monster-spirit’s here!” they yelled. Trembling all over, those with official caps and belts bowed and said, “Where are you people from?”
Fearing that his disciples might cause trouble, Tripitaka immediately went to the front to answer the question. “This humble priest,” he said, “is the subject of the Great Tang in the Land of the East and has been sent to the Great Thunderclap Monastery in the Kingdom of India to seek scriptures from the Buddhist Patriarch. As we pass through your treasure region, we have yet to learn of your country’s name and seek shelter from a household. Having just entered the city, we fail to give right of way to others, and I beg you various officials to pardon us.”
One of the officials returned the greetings and said, “This is the outer prefecture of India, and the name of the region is Phoenix-Immortal. Because we have had a severe drought for several years, the prefect ordered us to put up here a public notice seeking a priest to pray for rain and save the people.”
On hearing this, Pilgrim said, “Where’s your notice?” “Right here,” replied the officials. “We’ve been sweeping clean the wall and the eave just now, and we have yet to hang it up.”
“Bring it here and let me have a look,” said Pilgrim, and the various officials rolled out the notice at once and hung it beneath the eave. As Pilgrim and his companions drew near, this was the notice they found:
The Prefect Shangguan of the Phoenix-Immortal Prefecture in the Great Kingdom of India hereby promulgates a public notice to seek an enlightened master for the performance of a mighty religious deed. Though the territory of our prefecture is spacious, and though both our military and civilians have been affluent, we have suffered drought and famine for several consecutive years. The fields of the people are unplowed, and the military lands are infertile; the rivers have receded and the ditches have dried out. There is neither water in the wells nor liquid in the streams. The wealthy can barely subsist, but the poor can hardly remain alive. A bushel of grain costs a hundred gold, while five ounces of silver is the price of one bundle of wood. A ten-year-old girl is given in exchange for three pints of rice, while a five-year-old boy is taken away at will. Those fearful of the law in the city would pawn their clothes and possessions to preserve themselves, but those abusing the public in the countryside will rob and plunder to save their lives. For this reason we have promulgated this notice to plead with the worthy and wise of all quarters to pray for rain and save the people. Such kindness will be heavily rewarded with the payment of a thousand gold, and this is a sure promise.
After he had read it, Pilgrim asked the various officials, “What does the Prefect Shangguan3 mean?”
“Shangguan happens to be his surname, and it’s also the name of our prefecture,” they replied. “But that’s quite a rare name,” said Pilgrim, chuckling.
“So Elder Brother hasn’t gone to school, after all!” Eight Rules said. “Don’t you know that toward the end of The Book of a Hundred Family Names there is the phrase, Shangguan Ouyang?”
“Disciples,” Tripitaka said, “let’s stop this idle chatter. Whichever one of you knows how to pray for rain should do so on their behalf in order to bring relief to the populace. This is a most virtuous deed. If you cannot, we should leave and not delay our journey.”
“What’s so difficult about praying for rain?” said Pilgrim. “Old Monkey can overturn rivers and seas, alter the course of the planets, topple Heaven and upturn a well, belch out fog and cloud, chase down the moon while carrying a mountain, call up the wind and the rain. Which one of these things, in fact, has not been the sport of my youth? There’s nothing to marvel at!”
When the various officials heard what he said, two of them quickly went to the prefectural office to report, “Venerable Father, ten thousand happinesses have arrived!”
The prefect was just in the midst of uttering a silent prayer before stalks of lighted incense. When he heard the announcement, he asked, “What happinesses?” One of the officials replied, “Having received the public notice today, we were about to mount it at the entrance of the market when four monks arrived. They claimed to be pilgrims sent by the Great Tang in the Land of the East to seek scriptures from Buddha in the Great Thunderclap Monastery of the Kingdom of India. When they saw the notice, they also told us of their ability to pray for rain, and that is why we came especially to report to you.”
The prefect immediately tidied his clothing and began walking toward the market, not even waiting for carriage or horses to be summoned, in order that he might solicit with great courtesy the help of these priests. When someone on the street announced, “The Venerable Father Prefect has arrived,” the crowd stepped aside. As soon as he caught sight of the Tang Monk, the prefect started bowing low in the middle of the street, not intimidated at all by the hideous appearances of the monk’s disciples. “Your lowly official named Shangguan,” he said, “is the prefect of the Phoenix-Immortal Prefecture. With burned incense, and having ritually cleansed myself, I bow to implore the master to pray for rain and save the people. I beg the master to dispense widely his mercy, exercise his magic potency, and answer our needs!”
Returning his salutation, Tripitaka said, “This is hardly the place for conversation. Allow this humble cleric to reach a monastery or temple, where it’ll be easier for us to do what we must do.” “Let the master come to our humble residence,” said the prefect. “There will be an unsullied area for you to stay.”
Master and disciples thereupon led the horse and toted the luggage to the official residence. After he had greeted each one of them, the prefect at once ordered tea and a vegetarian meal to be served. When the food arrived in a little while, our Eight Rules ate with abandon like a hungry tiger, so terrifying those holding dishes and trays that their hearts quivered and their gallbladders shook. Back and forth they scurried about to fetch more soup and rice, moving like revolving lanterns. They could barely keep up with the demand, but they did not stop until the pilgrims had satisfied themselves. After the meal, the Tang Monk expressed his thanks and then asked, “Sir Prefect, for how long has your noble region been afflicted with drought?” The prefect said,
At India’s Kingdom, this, our nation great,
Of Phoenix-Immortal I’m the magistrate.
For three long years a drought has laid us low:
The five grains perished—not even grass would grow!
Commerce is hard for households big and small;
Ten doors or nine portals are tearful all.
Two-thirds of us have been by hunger slain,
While one-third like a wind-blown torch remains.
When I this public notice promulgate
,
It’s our luck that true monks have reached our state.
If you with one inch of rain the people bless,
A thousand gold I’ll give for such kindness.
On hearing this, Pilgrim showed great delight and said, with a roar of laughter, “Don’t say that! Don’t say that! If you mention a thousand gold as repayment, you’ll not receive even half a drop of rain. But if you wish to accumulate merit and virtue, old Monkey will present you with a torrential shower.”
That prefect, you see, was indeed an upright and honest official who had great love for his people. He immediately asked Pilgrim to take the honored seat; he bowed low and said, “Master, if you would indeed extend your mercy, this lowly official will never dare turn my back on virtue.” “Let’s not talk anymore,” said Pilgrim, “and please rise. May I trouble you to take good care of my master, so that old Monkey can act?”
“Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “how will you act?”
“You and Eight Rules come over here,” replied Pilgrim. “Stand at the foot of the steps of the hall there and serve as my ritual assistants. Let old Monkey summon the dragon here to make rain.” Eight Rules and Sha Monk obeyed; when the three of them all stood at the foot of the steps of the hall, the prefect burned incense and worshipped, while Tripitaka sat and recited a sūtra.
As Pilgrim recited a magic spell, immediately a dark cloud arose from the east and gradually drifted down to the courtyard in front of the hall; it was actually Aoguang, the old Dragon King of the Eastern Ocean. After the cloud had been retrieved, Aoguang took on human form and walked forward to bow and salute Pilgrim, saying, “In what capacity may this humble dragon serve the Great Sage who has summoned me?”
“Please rise,” said Pilgrim. “I’ve troubled you to come from a great distance only for one purpose, and that is to ask you why you have not provided rain to relieve a drought of several years here at the Prefecture of Phoenix-Immortal.”
“Let me humbly inform the Great Sage,” said the old dragon. “Though I may be able to make rain, I am subject to the will of Heaven. If Heaven above has not authorized me, how could I dare come here to make rain?”
