The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 1

by Unknown

  Has not seeking someone been just like this?

  What’s been my whole life, was that a mere chance?

  We preach the Dao, our method turns foolish

  When saying meets no belief; we preach in vain.

  To find some percipient I’d yield liver and gall.

  There’s affinity, I think, lying straight ahead.

  As the mentor and her disciple journeyed, they suddenly came upon a large body of Weak Water, for this was the region of the Flowing Sand River.24 “My disciple,” said the Bodhisattva, “this place is difficult to cross. The scripture pilgrim will be of temporal bones and mortal stock. How will he be able to get across?” “Teacher,” said Hui’an, “how wide do you suppose this river is?” The Bodhisattva stopped her cloud to take a look, and she saw that

  In the east it touches the sandy coast;

  In the west it joins the barbaric states;

  In the south it reaches even Wuyi;25

  In the north it comes near the Tartars.

  Its width is eight hundred miles,

  And its length must measure many thousand more.

  The water flows as if Earth is heaving its frame.

  The current rises like a mountain rearing its back.

  Outspread and immense;

  Vast and interminable.

  The sound of its towering billows reaches distant ears.

  The raft of a god cannot come here,

  Nor can a leaf of the lotus stay afloat.

  Lifeless grass in the twilight drifts along the crooked banks.

  Yellow clouds conceal the sun to darken the long dikes.

  Where can one find the traffic of merchants?

  Has there been ever a shelter for fishermen?

  On the flat sand no wild geese descend;

  From distant shores comes the crying of apes.

  Only the red smartweed flowers know this scene,

  Basking in the white duckweed’s fragile scent.

  The Bodhisattva was looking over the river when suddenly a loud splash was heard, and from the midst of the waves leaped an ugly and ferocious monster. He appeared to have

  A green, though not too green,

  And black, though not too black,

  Face of gloomy complexion;

  A long, though not too long,

  And short, though not too short,

  Sinewy body with naked feet.

  His gleaming eyes

  Shone like two lights beneath the stove.

  His mouth, forked at the corners,

  Was like a butcher’s bloody bowl.

  With teeth protruding like swords and knives,

  And red hair all disheveled,

  He bellowed once and it sounded like thunder,

  While his legs sprinted like whirling wind.

  Holding in his hands a priestly staff, that fiendish creature ran up the bank and tried to seize the Bodhisattva. He was opposed, however, by Hui’an, who wielded his iron rod, crying, “Stop!”, but the fiendish creature raised his staff to meet him. So the two of them engaged in a fierce battle beside the Flowing Sand River, which was truly terrifying.

  The iron rod of Mokṣa

  Displays its power to defend the Law;

  The monster-taming staff of the creature

  Labors to show its heroic might.

  Two silver pythons dance along the river’s bank.

  A pair of godlike monks charge each other on the shore.

  This one plies his talents as the forceful lord of Flowing Sand.

  That one, to attain great merit, protects Guanyin by strength.

  This one churns up foam and stirs up waves.

  That one belches fog and spits out wind.

  The stirred-up foams and waves darken Heaven and Earth.

  The spat-out fog and wind make dim both sun and moon.

  The monster-taming staff of this one

  Is like a white tiger emerging from the mountain;

  The iron rod of that one

  Is like a yellow dragon lying on the way.

  When used by one,

  This weapon spreads open the grass and finds the snake.

  When let loose by the other,

  That weapon knocks down the kite and splits the pine.

  They fight until the darkness thickens

  Save for the glittering stars,

  And the fog looms up

  To obscure both sky and land.

  This one, long a dweller in the Weak Water, is uniquely fierce.

  That one, newly leaving the Spirit Mountain, seeks his first win.

  Back and forth along the river the two of them fought for twenty or thirty rounds without either prevailing, when the fiendish creature stilled the other’s iron rod and asked, “What region do you come from, monk, that you dare oppose me?” “I’m the second son of the Pagoda Bearer Devarāja,” said Mokṣa, “Mokṣa, Disciple Hui’an. I am serving as the guardian of my mentor, who is looking for a scripture pilgrim in the Land of the East. What kind of monster are you that you dare block our way?” “I remember,” said the monster, suddenly recognizing his opponent, “that you used to follow the Guanyin of the South Sea and practice austerities there in the bamboo grove. How did you get to this place?” “Don’t you realize,” said Mokṣa, “that she is my mentor—the one over there on the shore?”

  When the monster heard these words, he apologized repeatedly. Putting away his staff, he allowed Mokṣa to grasp him by the collar and lead him away. He lowered his head and bowed low to Guanyin, saying, “Bodhisattva, please forgive me and let me submit my explanation. I am no monster; rather, I am the Curtain-Raising General who waits upon the phoenix chariot of the Jade Emperor at the Divine Mists Hall. Because I carelessly broke a crystal cup at one of the Festivals of Immortal Peaches, the Jade Emperor gave me eight hundred lashes, banished me to the Region Below, and changed me into my present shape. Every seventh day he sends a flying sword to stab my breast and side more than a hundred times before it leaves me. Hence my present wretchedness! Moreover, the hunger and cold are unbearable, and I am driven every few days to come out of the waves and find a traveler for food. I certainly did not expect that my ignorance would today lead me to offend the great, merciful Bodhisattva.”

  “Because of your sin in Heaven,” said the Bodhisattva, “you were banished. Yet the taking of life in your present manner surely is adding sin to sin. By the decree of Buddha, I am on my way to the Land of the East to find a scripture pilgrim. Why don’t you come into my fold, take refuge in good works, and follow the scripture pilgrim as his disciple when he goes to the Western Heaven to ask Buddha for the scriptures? I’ll order the flying sword to stop piercing you. At the time when you achieve merit, your sin will be expiated and you will be restored to your former position. How do you feel about that?” “I’m willing,” said the monster, “to seek refuge in right action.” He said also, “Bodhisattva, I have devoured countless human beings at this place. There have even been a number of scripture pilgrims here, and I ate all of them. The heads of those I devoured I threw into the Flowing Sand, and they sank to the bottom, for such is the nature of this water that not even goose down can float on it. But the skulls of the nine pilgrims floated on the water and would not sink. Regarding them as something unusual, I chained them together with a rope and played with them at my leisure. If this becomes known, I fear that no other scripture pilgrim will want to come this way. Won’t it jeopardize my future?”

  “Not come this way? How absurd!” said the Bodhisattva. “You may take the skulls and hang them round your neck. When the scripture pilgrim arrives, there will be a use for them.” “If that’s the case,” said the monster, “I’m now willing to receive your instructions.” The Bodhisattva then touched the top of his head and gave him the commandments.26 The sand was taken to be a sign, and he was given the surname “Sha” and the religious name “Wujing,”27 and that was how he entered the Gate of Sand.28 After he had seen the Bodhisattva on her way, he washed his heart
and purified himself; he never took life again but waited attentively for the arrival of the scripture pilgrim.

  So the Bodhisattva parted with him and went with Mokṣa toward the Land of the East. They traveled for a long time and came upon a high mountain, which was covered by miasma so foul that they could not ascend it on foot. They were just about to mount the clouds and pass over it when a sudden blast of violent wind brought into view another monster of most ferocious appearance. Look at his

  Lips curled and twisted like dried lotus leaves;

  Ears like rush-leaf fans and hard, gleaming eyes;

  Gaping teeth as sharp as a fine steel file’s;

  A long mouth wide open like a fire pot.

  A gold cap is fastened with bands by the cheek.

  Straps on his armor seem like scaleless snakes.

  He holds a rake—a dragon’s outstretched claws;

  From his waist hangs a bow of half-moon shape.

  His awesome presence and his prideful mien

  Defy the deities and daunt the gods.

  He rushed up toward the two travelers and, without regard for good or ill, lifted the rake and brought it down hard on the Bodhisattva. But he was met by Disciple Hui’an, who cried with a loud voice, “Reckless monster! Desist from this insolence! Look out for my rod!” “This monk,” said the monster, “doesn’t know any better! Look out for my rake!” The two of them clashed together at the foot of the mountain to discover who was to be the victor. It was a magnificent battle!

  The monster is fierce.

  Hui’an is powerful.

  The iron rod jabs at the heart;

  The muckrake swipes at the face.

  Spraying mud and splattering dust darken Heaven and Earth;

  Flying sand and hurling rocks scare demons and gods.

  The nine-teeth rake,

  All burnished,

  Loudly jingles with double rings;

  The single rod,

  Black throughout,

  Leaps and flies in both hands.

  This one is the prince of a Devarāja;

  That one is the spirit of a grand marshal.

  This one defends the faith at Potalaka;

  That one lives in a cave as a monster.

  Meeting this time they rush to fight,

  Not knowing who shall lose and who shall win.

  At the very height of their battle, Guanyin threw down some lotus flowers from midair, separating the rod from the rake. Alarmed by what he saw, the fiendish creature asked, “What region are you from, monk, that you dare to play this ‘flower-in-the-eye’ trick on me?” “Cursed beast of fleshly eyes and mortal stock!” said Mokṣa. “I am the disciple of the Bodhisattva from South Sea, and these are lotus flowers thrown down by my mentor. Don’t you recognize them?” “The Bodhisattva from South Sea?” asked the fiend. “Is she Guanyin who sweeps away the three calamities and rescues us from the eight disasters?” “Who else,” said Mokṣa, “if not she?” The fiend threw away his muckrake, lowered his head, and bowed, saying, “Venerable brother! Where is the Bodhisattva? Please be so good as to introduce me to her.” Mokṣa raised his head and pointed upward, saying, “Isn’t she up there?” “Bodhisattva!” the fiend kowtowed toward her and cried with a loud voice, “Pardon my sin! Pardon my sin!”

  Guanyin lowered the direction of her cloud and came to ask him, “What region are you from, wild boar who has become a spirit or old sow who has become a fiend, that you dare bar my way?” “I am neither a wild boar,” said the fiend, “nor am I an old sow! I was originally the Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds in the Heavenly River.29 Because I got drunk and dallied with the Goddess of the Moon,30 the Jade Emperor had me beaten with a mallet two thousand times and banished me to the world of dust. My true spirit was seeking the proper home for my next incarnation when I lost my way, passed through the womb of an old sow, and ended up with a shape like this! Having bitten the sow to death and killed the rest of the litter, I took over this mountain ranch and passed my days eating people. Little did I expect to run into the Bodhisattva. Save me, I implore you! Save me!”

  “What is the name of this mountain?” asked the Bodhisattva.

  “It’s called the Mountain of the Blessed Mound,” said the fiendish creature, “and there is a cave in it by the name of Cloudy Paths. There was a Second Elder Sister Egg originally in the cave. She saw that I knew something of the martial art and therefore asked me to be the head of the family, following the so-called practice of ‘standing backward in the door.’31 After less than a year, she died, leaving me to enjoy the possession of her entire cave. I have spent many days and years at this place, but I know no means of supporting myself and I pass the time eating people. I implore the Bodhisattva to pardon my sin.”

  The Bodhisattva said, “There is an old saying:

  If you want to have a future,

  Don’t act heedless of the future.

  You have already transgressed in the Region Above, and yet you have not changed your violent ways but indulge in the taking of life. Don’t you know that both crimes will be punished?”

  “The future! The future!” said the fiend. “If I listen to you, I might as well feed on the wind! The proverb says,

  If you follow the law of the court, you’ll be beaten to death;

  If you follow the law of Buddha, you’ll be starved to death!

  Let me go! Let me go! I would much prefer catching a few travelers and munching on the plump and juicy lady of the family. Why should I care about two crimes, three crimes, a thousand crimes, or ten thousand crimes?” “There is a saying,” said the Bodhisattva,

  A man with good intent

  Will win Heaven’s assent.

  If you are willing to return to the fruits of truth, there will be means to sustain your body. There are five kinds of grain in this world and they all can relieve hunger. Why do you need to pass the time by devouring humans?”

  When the fiend heard these words, he was like one who woke from a dream, and he said to the Bodhisattva, “I would very much like to follow the truth. But ‘since I have offended Heaven, even my prayers are of little avail.’”32 “I have received the decree from Buddha to go to the Land of the East to find a scripture pilgrim,” said the Bodhisattva. “You can follow him as his disciple and make a trip to the Western Heaven; your merit will cancel out your sins, and you will surely be delivered from your calamities.” “I’m willing. I’m willing,” promised the fiend with enthusiasm. The Bodhisattva then touched his head and gave him the instructions. Pointing to his body as a sign, she gave him the surname “Zhu” and the religious name “Wuneng.”33 From that moment on, he accepted the commandment to return to the real. He fasted and ate only a vegetable diet, abstaining from the five forbidden viands and the three undesirable foods34 so as to wait single-mindedly for the scripture pilgrim.

  The Bodhisattva and Mokṣa took leave of Wuneng and proceeded again halfway between cloud and mist. As they were journeying, they saw in midair a young dragon calling for help. The Bodhisattva drew near and asked, “What dragon are you, and why are you suffering here?” The dragon said, “I am the son of Aorun, Dragon King of the Western Ocean. Because I inadvertently set fire to the palace and burned some of the pearls therein, my father the king memorialized to the Court of Heaven and charged me with grave disobedience. The Jade Emperor hung me in the sky and gave me three hundred lashes, and I shall be executed in a few days. I beg the Bodhisattva to save me.”

  When Guanyin heard these words, she rushed with Mokṣa up to the South Heaven Gate. She was received by Qiu and Zhang, the two Celestial Masters, who asked her, “Where are you going?” “This humble cleric needs to have an audience with the Jade Emperor,” said the Bodhisattva. The two Celestial Masters promptly made the report, and the Jade Emperor left the hall to receive her. After presenting her greetings, the Bodhisattva said, “By the decree of Buddha, this humble cleric is journeying to the Land of the East to find a scripture pilgrim. On the way I met a mischievous dra
gon hanging in the sky. I have come specially to beg you to spare his life and grant him to me. He can be a good means of transportation for the scripture pilgrim.” When the Jade Emperor heard these words, he at once gave the decree of pardon, ordering the Heavenly sentinels to release the dragon to the Bodhisattva. The Bodhisattva thanked the Emperor, while the young dragon also kowtowed to the Bodhisattva to thank her for saving his life and pledged obedience to her command. The Bodhisattva then sent him to live in a deep mountain stream with the instruction that when the scripture pilgrim should arrive, he was to change into a white horse and go to the Western Heaven. The young dragon obeyed the order and hid himself, and we shall speak no more of him for the moment.

  The Bodhisattva then led Mokṣa past the mountain, and they headed again toward the Land of the East. They had not traveled long before they suddenly came upon ten thousand shafts of golden light and a thousand layers of radiant vapor. “Teacher,” said Mokṣa, “that luminous place must be the Mountain of Five Phases. I can see the tag of Tathāgata imprinted on it.” “So, beneath this place,” said the Bodhisattva, “is where the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, who disturbed Heaven and the Festival of Immortal Peaches, is being imprisoned.” “Yes, indeed,” said Mokṣa. The mentor and her disciple ascended the mountain and looked at the tag, on which was inscribed the divine words Oṁ mani padme hūṁ. When the Bodhisattva saw this, she could not help sighing, and composed the following poem:

  I rue the impish ape not heeding the Law,

  Who let loose wild heroics in bygone years.

  His mind puffed up, he wrecked the Peach Banquet

  And boldly stole in Tushita Palace.

  He found no worthy match in ten thousand troops;

  Through Ninefold Heaven he displayed his power.

  Imprisoned now by Sovereign Tathāgata,

  When will he be free to show once more his might?

  As mentor and disciple were speaking, they disturbed the Great Sage, who shouted from the base of the mountain, “Who is up there on the mountain composing verses to expose my faults?” When the Bodhisattva heard those words, she came down the mountain to take a look. There beneath the rocky ledges were the local spirit, the mountain god, and the Heavenly sentinels guarding the Great Sage. They all came and bowed to receive the Bodhisattva, leading her before the Great Sage. She looked and saw that he was pinned down in a kind of stone box: though he could speak, he could not move his body. “You whose name is Sun,” said the Bodhisattva, “do you recognize me?”