The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 1

by Unknown

  The Great Sage opened wide his fiery eyes and diamond pupils and nodded. “How could I not recognize you?” he cried. “You are the Mighty Deliverer, the Great Compassionate Bodhisattva Guanyin from the Potalaka Mountain of the South Sea. Thank you, thank you for coming to see me! At this place every day is like a year, for not a single acquaintance has ever come to visit me. Where did you come from?”

  “I have received the decree from Buddha,” said the Bodhisattva, “to go to the Land of the East to find a scripture pilgrim. Since I was passing through here, I rested my steps briefly to see you.”

  “Tathāgata deceived me,” said the Great Sage, “and imprisoned me beneath this mountain. For over five hundred years already I have not been able to move. I implore the Bodhisattva to show a little mercy and rescue old Monkey!” “Your sinful karma is very deep,” said the Bodhisattva. “If I rescue you, I fear that you will again perpetrate violence, and that will be bad indeed.” “Now I know the meaning of penitence,” said the Great Sage. “So I entreat the Great Compassion to show me the proper path, for I am willing to practice cultivation.” Truly it is that

  One wish born in the heart of man

  Is known throughout Heaven and Earth.

  If vice or virtue lacks reward,

  Unjust must be the universe.

  When the Bodhisattva heard those words from the prisoner, she was filled with pleasure and said to the Great Sage, “The scripture says,

  When a good word is spoken,

  An answer will come from beyond a thousand miles;

  When an evil word is spoken,

  Opposition will hail from beyond a thousand miles.

  If you have such a purpose, wait until I reach the Great Tang Nation in the Land of the East and find the scripture pilgrim. He will be told to come and rescue you, and you can follow him as a disciple. You shall keep the teachings and hold the rosary to enter our gate of Buddha, so that you may again cultivate the fruits of righteousness. Will you do that?” “I’m willing, I’m willing,” said the Great Sage repeatedly.

  “If you are indeed seeking the fruits of virtue,” said the Bodhisattva, “let me give you a religious name.” “I have one already,” said the Great Sage, “and I’m called Sun Wukong.” “There were two persons before you who came into our faith,” said the delighted Bodhisattva, “and their names, too, are built on the word ‘Wu.’ Your name will agree with theirs perfectly, and that is splendid indeed. I need not give you any more instruction, for I must be going.” So our Great Sage, with manifest nature and enlightened mind, returned to the Buddhist faith, while our Bodhisattva, with attention and diligence, sought the divine monk.

  She left the place with Mokṣa and proceeded straight to the east; in a few days they reached Chang’an of the Great Tang Nation. Forsaking the mist and abandoning the cloud, mentor and disciple changed themselves into two wandering monks covered with scabby sores35 and went into the city. It was already dusk. As they walked through one of the main streets, they saw a temple of the local spirit. They both went straight in, alarming the spirit and the demon guards, who recognized the Bodhisattva. They kowtowed to receive her, and the local spirit then ran quickly to report to the city’s guardian deity, the god of the soil, and the spirits of various temples of Chang’an. When they learned that it was the Bodhisattva, they all came to pay homage, saying, “Bodhisattva, please pardon us for being tardy in our reception.” “None of you,” said the Bodhisattva, “should let a word of this leak out! I came here by the special decree of Buddha to look for a scripture pilgrim. I would like to stay just for a few days in one of your temples, and I shall depart when the true monk is found.” The various deities went back to their own places, but they sent the local spirit off to the residence of the city’s guardian deity so that the teacher and the disciple could remain incognito in the spirit’s temple. We do not know what sort of scripture pilgrim was found. Let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.

  NINE

  Chen Guangrui, going to his post, meets disaster;

  Monk River Float, avenging his parents, repays his roots.

  We now tell you about the city of Chang’an in the great nation’s Shaanxi Province, which was the place that kings and emperors from generation to generation had made their capital. Since the periods of Zhou, Qin, and Han,

  Three counties of flowers bloomed like brocade,

  And eight rivers1 flowed encircling the city.

  It was truly a land of great scenic beauty. At this time the emperor Taizong2 of the Great Tang dynasty was on the throne, and the name of his reign was Zhenguan. He had been ruling now for thirteen years, and the cyclical name of the year was Jisi.3 The whole land was at peace: people came bearing tributes from eight directions, and the inhabitants of the whole world called themselves his subjects.

  One day Taizong ascended his throne and assembled his civil and military officials. After they had paid him homage, the prime minister Wei Zheng4 left the ranks and came forward to memorialize to the Throne, saying, “Since the world now is at peace and tranquility reigns everywhere, we should follow the ancient custom and establish sites for civil examinations, so that we may invite worthy scholars to come here and select those talents who will best serve the work of administration and government.” “Our worthy subject has voiced a sound principle in his memorial,” said Taizong. He therefore issued a summons to be proclaimed throughout the empire: in every prefecture, county, and town, those who were learned in the Confucian classics, who could write with ease and lucidity, and who had passed the three sessions of examination,5 regardless of whether they were soldiers or peasants, would be invited to go to Chang’an to take the imperial examination.

  This summons reached the place Haizhou, where it was seen by a certain man named Chen E (with the courtesy name of Guangrui), who then went straight home to talk to his mother, whose maiden name was Zhang. “The court,” he said, “has sent a yellow summons, declaring in these southern provinces that there will be examinations for the selection of the worthy and the talented. Your child wishes to try out at such an examination, for if I manage to acquire an appointment, or even half a post, I would become more of a credit to my parents, magnify our name, give my wife a title, benefit my son, and bring glory to this house of ours. Such is the aspiration of your son: I wish to tell my mother plainly before I leave.” “My son,” said she of the Zhang family, “an educated person ‘learns when he is young, but leaves when he is grown.’ You should indeed follow this maxim. But as you go to the examination, you must be careful on the way, and, when you have secured a post, come home quickly.” So Guangrui gave instructions for his family page to pack his bags, took leave of his mother, and began his journey. When he reached Chang’an, the examination site had just been opened, and he went straight in. He took the preliminary tests, passed them, and went to the court examination, where in three sessions on administrative policy he took first place, receiving the title “zhuangyuan,” the certificate of which was signed by the Tang emperor’s own hand. As was the custom, he was led through the streets on horseback for three days.

  The procession at one point passed by the house of the chief minister, Yin Kaishan, who had a daughter named Wenjiao, nicknamed Mantangjiao (A Hall of Loveliness). She was not yet married, and at this time she was just about to throw down an embroidered ball from high up on a festooned tower in order to select her spouse. It happened that Chen Guangrui was passing below the tower. When the young maiden saw Guangrui’s outstanding appearance and knew that he was the recent zhuangyuan of the examinations, she was very pleased. She threw down the embroidered ball, which just happened to hit the black gauze hat of Guangrui. Immediately, lively music of pipes and flutes could be heard throughout the area as scores of maids and serving-girls ran down from the tower, took hold of the bridle of Guangrui’s horse, and led him into the residence of the chief minister for the wedding. The chief minister and his wife at once came out of their chambers, called together the guests a
nd the master of ceremonies, and gave the girl to Guangrui as his bride. Together, they bowed to Heaven and Earth; then husband and wife bowed to each other, before bowing to the father- and mother-in-law. The chief minister then gave a big banquet and everyone feasted merrily for a whole evening, after which the two of them walked hand in hand into the bridal chamber.

  At the fifth watch early next morning, Taizong took his seat in the Treasure Hall of Golden Chimes as civil and military officials attended the court. Taizong asked, “What appointment should the new zhuangyuan receive?” The prime minister Wei Zheng said, “Your subject has discovered that within our territory there is a vacancy at Jiangzhou. I beg my Lord to grant him this post.” Taizong at once made him governor of Jiangzhou and ordered him to leave without delay. After thanking the emperor and leaving the court, Guangrui went back to the house of the chief minister to inform his wife. He took leave of his father- and mother-in-law and proceeded with his wife to the new post at Jiangzhou.

  As they left Chang’an and went on their journey, the season was late spring:

  A soft wind blew to green the willows;

  A fine rain spotted to redden the flowers.

  As his home was on the way, Guangrui returned to his house where husband and wife bowed together to his mother, Lady Zhang. “Congratulations, my son,” said she of the Zhang family, “you even came back with a wife!” “Your child,” said Guangrui, “relied on the power of your blessing and was able to attain the undeserved honor of zhuangyuan. By imperial command I was making a tour of the streets when, as I passed by the mansion of Chief Minister Yin, I was hit by an embroidered ball. The chief minister kindly gave his daughter to your child to be his wife, and His Majesty appointed him governor of Jiangzhou. I have returned to take you with me to the post.” She of the Zhang family was delighted and packed at once for the journey.

  They had been on the road for a few days when they came to stay at the Inn of Ten Thousand Flowers, kept by a certain Liu Xiaoer. She of the Zhang family suddenly became ill and said to Guangrui, “I don’t feel well at all. Let’s rest here for a day or two before we journey again.” Guangrui obeyed. Next morning there was a man outside the inn holding a golden carp for sale, which Guangrui bought for a string of coins. He was about to have it cooked for his mother when he saw that the carp was blinking its eyes vigorously. In astonishment, Guangrui said, “I have heard that when a fish or a snake blinks its eyes in this manner, that’s the sure sign that it’s not an ordinary creature!” He therefore asked the fisherman, “Where did you catch this fish?” “I caught it,” said the fisherman, “from the river Hong, some fifteen miles from this district.” Accordingly, Guangrui sent the live fish back to the river and returned to the inn to tell his mother about it. “It is a good deed to release living creatures from captivity,” said she of the Zhang family. “I am very pleased.” “We have stayed in this inn now for three days,” said Guangrui. “The imperial command is an urgent one. Your child intends to leave tomorrow, but he would like to know whether mother has fully recovered.” She of the Zhang family said, “I’m still not well, and the heat on the journey at this time of year, I fear, will only add to my illness. Why don’t you rent a house for me to stay here temporarily and leave me an allowance? The two of you can proceed to your new post. By autumn, when it’s cool, you can come fetch me.” Guangrui discussed the matter with his wife; they duly rented a house for her and left some cash with her, after which they took leave and left.

  They felt the fatigue of traveling, journeying by day and resting by night, and they soon came to the crossing of the Hong River, where two boatmen, Liu Hong and Li Biao, took them into their boat. It happened that Guangrui was destined in his previous incarnation to meet this calamity, and so he had to come upon these fated enemies of his. After ordering the houseboy to put the luggage on the boat, Guangrui and his wife were just about to embark when Liu Hong noticed the beauty of Lady Yin, who had a face like a full moon, eyes like autumnal water, a small, cherrylike mouth, and a tiny, willowlike waist. Her features were striking enough to sink fishes and drop wild geese, and her complexion would cause the moon to hide and put the flowers to shame. Stirred at once to cruelty, he plotted with Li Biao; together they punted the boat to an isolated area and waited until the middle of the night. They killed the houseboy first, and then they beat Guangrui to death, pushing both bodies into the water. When the lady saw that they had killed her husband, she made a dive for the water, but Liu Hong threw his arms around her and caught her. “If you consent to my demand,” he said, “everything will be all right. If you do not, this knife will cut you in two!” Unable to think of any better plan, the lady had to give her consent for the time being and yielded herself to Liu Hong. The thief took the boat to the south bank, where he turned the boat over to the care of Li Biao. He himself put on Guangrui’s cap and robe, took his credentials, and proceeded with the lady to the post at Jiangzhou.

  We should now tell you that the body of the houseboy killed by Liu Hong drifted away with the current. The body of Chen Guangrui, however, sank to the bottom of the water and stayed there. A yakṣa on patrol at the mouth of the Hong River saw it and rushed into the Dragon Palace. The Dragon King was just holding court when the yakṣa entered to report, saying, “A scholar has been beaten to death at the mouth of the Hong River by some unknown person, and his body is now lying at the bottom of the water.” The Dragon King had the corpse brought in and laid before him. He took a careful look at it and said, “But this man was my benefactor! How could he have been murdered? As the common saying goes, ‘Kindness should be paid by kindness.’ I must save his life today so that I may repay the kindness of yesterday.” He at once issued an official dispatch, sending a yakṣa to deliver it to the municipal deity and local spirit of Hongzhou, and asked for the soul of the scholar so that his life might be saved. The municipal deity and the local spirit in turn ordered the little demons to hand over the soul of Chen Guangrui to the yakṣa, who led the soul back to the Water Crystal Palace for an audience with the Dragon King.

  “Scholar,” asked the Dragon King, “what is your name? Where did you come from? Why did you come here, and for what reason were you beaten to death?” Guangrui saluted him and said, “This lowly student is named Chen E, and my courtesy name is Guangrui. I am from the Hongnong district of Haizhou. As the unworthy zhuangyuan of the recent session of examination, I was appointed by the court to be governor of Jiangzhou, and I was going to my post with my wife. When I took a boat at the river, I did not expect the boatman, Liu Hong, to covet my wife and plot against me. He beat me to death and tossed out my body. I beg the Great King to save me.” Hearing these words, the Dragon King said, “So, that’s it! Good sir, the golden carp that you released earlier was myself. You are my benefactor. You may be in dire difficulty at the moment, but is there any reason why I should not come to your assistance?” He therefore laid the body of Guangrui to one side, and put a preservative pearl in his mouth so that his body would not deteriorate but be reunited with his soul to avenge himself in the future. He also said, “Your true soul may remain temporarily in my Water Bureau as an officer.” Guangrui kowtowed to thank him, and the Dragon King prepared a banquet to entertain him, but we shall say no more about that.

  We now tell you that Lady Yin hated the bandit Liu so bitterly that she wished she could devour his flesh and sleep on his skin! But because she was with child and did not know whether it would be a boy or a girl, she had no alternative but to yield reluctantly to her captor. In a little while they arrived at Zhiangzhou; the clerks and the lictors all came to meet them, and all the subordinate officials gave a banquet for them at the governor’s mansion. Liu Hong said, “Having come here, a student like me is utterly dependent on the support and assistance of you gentlemen.” “Your Honor,” replied the officials, “is first in the examinations and a major talent. You will, of course, regard your people as your children; your public declarations will be as simple as your settlement of litigation
is fair. We subordinates are all dependent on your leadership, so why should you be unduly modest?” When the official banquet ended, the people all left.

  Time passed by swiftly. One day, Liu Hong went far away on official business, while Lady Yin at the mansion was thinking of her mother-in-law and her husband and sighing in the garden pavilion. Suddenly she was seized by tremendous fatigue and sharp pains in her belly. Falling unconscious to the ground, she gave birth to a son. Presently she heard someone whispering in her ear: “Mantangjiao, listen carefully to what I have to say. I am the Star Spirit of South Pole, who sends you this son by the express command of the Bodhisattva Guanyin. One day his name will be known far and wide, for he is not to be compared with an ordinary mortal. But when the bandit Liu returns, he will surely try to harm the child, and you must take care to protect him. Your husband has been rescued by the Dragon King; in the future both of you will meet again even as son and mother will be reunited. A day will come when wrongs will be redressed and crimes punished. Remember my words! Wake up! Wake up!” The voice ceased and departed. The lady woke up and remembered every word; she clasped her son tightly to her but could devise no plan to protect him. Liu Hong then returned and wanted to have the child killed by drowning the moment he saw him. The lady said, “Today it’s late already. Allow him to live till tomorrow and then have him thrown into the river.”

  It was fortunate that Liu Hong was called away by urgent business the next morning. The lady thought to herself: “If this child is here when that bandit returns, his life is finished! I might as well abandon him now to the river, and let life or death take its own course. Perhaps Heaven, taking pity on him, will send someone to his rescue and to have him cared for. Then we may have a chance to meet again.” She was afraid, however, that future recognition would be difficult; so she bit her finger and wrote a letter with her blood, stating in detail the names of the parents, the family history, and the reason for the child’s abandonment. She also bit off a little toe from the child’s left foot to establish a mark of his identity. Taking one of her own inner garments she wrapped the child and took him out of the mansion when no one was watching. Fortunately the mansion was not far from the river. Reaching the bank, the lady burst into tears and wailed long and loud. She was about to toss the child into the river when she caught sight of a plank floating by the river bank. At once she prayed to Heaven, after which she placed the child on the plank and tied him securely to it with some rope. She fastened the letter written in blood to his chest, pushed the plank out into the water, and let it drift away. With tears in her eyes, the lady went back to the mansion, but we shall say no more of that.