The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 3

by Unknown

  Understands human affairs,

  Is adept in its daily life

  And able to avoid death and lengthen its life.

  The third is the bare-armed gibbon, who can

  Seize the sun and the moon,

  Shorten a thousand mountains,

  Distinguish the auspicious from the inauspicious,

  And manipulate planets and stars.

  The fourth is the sixth-eared macaque,7 who has

  A sensitive ear,

  Discernment of fundamental principles,

  Knowledge of past and future,

  And comprehension of all things.

  These four kinds of monkeys are not classified in the ten species, nor are they contained in the names between Heaven and Earth. As I see the matter, that specious Wukong must be a six-eared macaque, for even if this monkey stands in one place, he can possess the knowledge of events a thousand miles away and whatever a man may say in that distance. That is why I describe him as a creature who has

  A sensitive ear,

  Discernment of fundamental principles,

  Knowledge of past and future,

  And comprehension of all things.

  The one who has the same appearance and the same voice as the true Wukong is a sixth-eared macaque.”

  When the macaque heard how Tathāgata had announced his original form, he shook with fear; leaping up quickly, he tried to flee. Tathāgata, however, at once ordered the Four Bodhisattvas, the Eight Diamond Kings, the five hundred arhats, the three thousand guardians of the faith, the mendicant monks, the mendicant nuns, the upāsakas, the upāsikās, Guanyin, and Mokṣa to have him completely encircled. The Great Sage Sun also wanted to rush forward, but Tathāgata said, “Wukong, don’t move. Let me capture him for you.” The macaque’s hair stood on end, for he supposed that he would not be able to escape. Shaking his body quickly, he changed at once into a bee, flying straight up. Tathāgata threw up into the air a golden almsbowl, which caught the bee and brought it down. Not perceiving that, the congregation thought the macaque had escaped. With a smile, Tathāgata said, “Be silent, all of you. The monster-spirit hasn’t escaped. He’s underneath this almsbowl of mine.” The congregation surged forward and lifted up the almsbowl; a sixth-eared macaque in his original form indeed appeared. Unable to contain himself anymore, the Great Sage Sun raised his iron rod and killed it with one blow on the head. To this day this species of monkey has remained extinct.

  Moved to pity by the sight, Tathāgata exclaimed, “My goodness! My goodness!” “You should not have compassion on him, Tathāgata,” said our Great Sage. “He wounded my master and robbed us of our wraps. Even according to the law, he was guilty of assault and robbery in broad daylight. He should have been executed.” Tathāgata said, “Now you go back quickly to accompany the Tang Monk here to seek the scriptures.”

  As he kowtowed to thank the Buddha, the Great Sage said, “Let me inform Tathāgata, that it is certain that my master will not want me back. If I go to him now and he rejects me, it’s simply a waste of effort. I beg you to recite the Loose-Fillet Spell instead so that I can give back your golden fillet. Let me return to secular life.” “Stop such foolish thought,” said Tathāgata, “and don’t be mischievous! If I ask Guanyin to take you back to your master, you should have no fear that he will reject you. Take care to protect him on his journey, and in due time

  When merit’s done and Nirvāṇa’s home,

  You, too, will sit on a lotus throne.”

  When she heard that, Guanyin pressed together her palms to thank the sage’s grace, after which she led Wukong away by mounting the clouds. They were followed at once by her disciple, Mokṣa, and the white cockatoo. Soon they arrived at the thatched hut, and when Sha Monk saw them, he quickly asked his master to bow at the door to receive them. “Tang Monk,” said the Bodhisattva, “the one who struck you the other day was a specious Pilgrim, a sixth-eared macaque. It was our good fortune that Tathāgata recognized him, and subsequently he was slain by Wukong. You must now take him back, for the demonic barriers on your journey are by no means entirely overcome, and only with his protection can you reach the Spirit Mountain and see the Buddha for scriptures. Don’t be angry with him anymore.” Kowtowing, Tripitaka replied, “I obey your instruction.”

  At that moment when he and Sha Monk were thanking the Bodhisattva, they heard a violent gust of wind blowing in from the east: it was Zhu Eight Rules, who returned riding the wind with two wraps on his back. When Idiot saw the Bodhisattva, he fell on his knees to bow to her, saying, “Your disciple took leave of my master the other day and went to the Water-Curtain Cave of the Flower-Fruit Mountain to look for our luggage. I saw indeed a specious Tang Monk and another specious Eight Rules, both of whom I struck dead. They were two monkeys. Then I went inside and found the wraps, and examination revealed that nothing was missing. I mounted the wind to return here. What, may I ask, has happened to the two Pilgrims?” The Bodhisattva thereupon gave him a complete account of how Tathāgata had revealed the origin of the fiend, and Idiot was thoroughly delighted. Master and disciples all bowed to give thanks. As the Bodhisattva went back to South Sea, the pilgrims were again united in their hearts and minds, their animosity and anger all dissolved. After they also thanked the village household, they put in order their luggage and the horse to find their way to the West once more. Thus it is that

  Midway parting upsets the Five Phases;

  The fiend’s defeat fuses primal light.

  Spirit returns to Mind and Chan is still.

  Six senses subdued, elixir’s in sight.

  We do not know when Tripitaka will be able to face the Buddha and ask for the scriptures; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.

  FIFTY-NINE

  Tripitaka Tang’s path is blocked at Mountain of Flames;

  Pilgrim Sun baits for the first time the palm-leaf fan.

  Seed-natures are basically the same:1

  The sea accepts without end.2

  Ten thousand thoughts and cares are folly all;

  Each form, each kind’s in harmony.

  One day with work and merit complete,

  Perfected real nature towers on high.

  Let no thing amiss slip to east or west;

  Lock on and tighten your hold.

  Pick and safekeep it3 in th’elixir stove

  For smelting until it’s red like the sun—

  Bright and brilliant, all aglow.

  Astride the dragon you’ll come and go.4

  We were telling you about Tripitaka, who obeyed the instruction of the Bodhisattva and took back Pilgrim. Along with Eight Rules and Sha Monk, he severed the Two Minds and shackled both Ape and Horse. United in mind and effort, they pressed on toward the Western Heaven. We cannot begin to describe how time flies like an arrow, how the seasons pass like the weaver’s shuttle. After the torrid summer, the frosty scenery of late autumn again appeared. You see

  Thin broken clouds as a west wind turns brisk;

  Distant cranes cry, woods frosted like brocade.

  What a scene of timely sadness

  Where endless hills stretch endless streams!

  To north borders the wild geese fly;

  To south lanes blackbirds return.

  The wayfarer’s road is lonesome;

  The monk’s robe swiftly grows cold.5

  However, as master and disciples, the four of them, proceeded, they gradually felt a stifling heat. Reining in his horse, Tripitaka said, “It’s now autumn. How is it that the heat is so intense?” “You may not know of this,” said Eight Rules, “but there is, on the journey to the West, a Sūrya Kingdom.6 It is the place where the sun sets, and that’s why its popular name is ‘The Edge of Heaven.’ During the time of late afternoon each day, the king will send people up to the battlements to beat the drums and blow the bugles, in order to dilute and weaken the sound of the sea boiling. For the sun, you see, is the true fire of grand yang, and when it drops into the Western Sea, it’s l
ike flames plunging into water and creating a deafening sizzle. If there were no drums or bugles to lessen the impact, the children in the city would all be killed. With this stifling heat here, this place must be where the sun sets.”

  When the Great Sage heard this, he could not hold back his laughter, saying, “Idiot, don’t talk nonsense. If it’s the Sūrya Kingdom you’re thinking of, it’s much too early. When you consider the sort of delays the Master has had to face night and day, it may take him several lifetimes—from youth to old age and back again—and even then he may not get there.” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “if you say that this is not the place where the sun sets, then why is it so hot?” “There must be something wrong with the climate,” said Sha Monk, “so that you have summer weather in autumn.” As the three of them debated like that, they came upon several buildings by the road, all having red tiles on the roof, red bricks on the wall, red painted doors, and red lacquered-wood benches. Everything, in fact, was red. As Tripitaka dismounted he said, “Wukong, go and ask in that house and see if you can uncover the reason for the heat.”

  Putting away his golden-hooped rod, the Great Sage straightened out his clothes and affected a civil manner as he left the main road to walk up to the house. Just then an old man emerged from the main door,

  Who wore a not quite yellow

  And not quite red robe of grass cloth;

  His head had on a not quite blue

  And not quite black hat of bamboo-splint;

  His hands held a not quite crooked

  And not quite straight staff of knotted bamboo;

  His feet trod on a pair of not quite new

  And not quite old calf-length leather boots.

  His face was like red bronze;

  His beard seemed like white chains.

  Two aged eyebrows topped his lustrous eyes;

  One grinning mouth revealed some teeth of gold.

  When he caught sight of Pilgrim all of a sudden, the old man was somewhat startled. Leaning on his bamboo staff, he shouted, “What sort of a weird creature are you, and where are you from? What are you doing here before my door?” Bowing deeply, Pilgrim said, “Old Patron, please don’t be afraid of me. I’m no weird creature. This poor monk has been sent by imperial commission of the Great Tang in the Land of the East to go seek scriptures in the West. There are altogether four of us, master and disciples. We have just arrived in your noble region, and when we feel how hot the weather is, we want very much to know what the reason is for it and what is the name of the land here. I have come especially to seek your instruction.” Greatly relieved, the old man smiled and said, “Elder, please don’t be offended. This old man was somewhat dim-sighted just now, and I couldn’t quite recognize you.” “Not at all,” replied Pilgrim. Then the old man asked him again, “Where is your master?” “Over there,” said Pilgrim, “the one standing on the main road south of us.” “Please ask him to come! Please ask him to come here!” said the old man. Delighted, Pilgrim waved at Tripitaka, who immediately approached with Eight Rules and Sha Monk, leading the white horse and poling the luggage. They all bowed to the old man.

  When the old man saw how distinguished Tripitaka appeared and how strange Eight Rules and Sha Monk looked, he was both startled and delighted. He had no choice, however, but to invite them inside to be seated before he asked his houseboys to serve tea and to prepare a meal. When Tripitaka heard him, he rose to thank him, saying, “May I ask the Gong-gong7 why it is that such intense heat returns to the autumn of your noble region?” “Our humble region,” replied the old man, “is named the Mountain of Flames. There’s neither spring nor autumn here; all four seasons are hot.” “Where is this mountain?” asked Tripitaka. “Is it on the way to the West?” “You can’t go to the West,” replied the old man, “for that mountain, about sixty miles from here, sits squarely on the main road. It’s covered with flames for over eight hundred miles, and all around not even a single blade of grass can grow. If you walk on this mountain, you will turn to liquid even if you have a bronze skull and an iron body.” Paling with horror, Tripitaka dared not ask another question.

  Just then, a young man passed by the front door, pushing a red cart and calling, “Rice-puddings!” Pulling off one piece of hair, which he changed into a copper penny, the Great Sage went out to the young man to buy his puddings. After taking the money, and without dickering over the price, the man at once untied the wrap on his cart and took out a piece of steaming hot rice-pudding to hand over to Pilgrim. When it touched the palm of his hands, Pilgrim felt as if he had received a piece of lit charcoal or glowing nail taken from the blacksmith’s stove. Look at him! He switched the pudding from the left hand to the right hand and back again to the left, and all he could say was “Hot! Hot! Hot! I can’t eat this!” “If you’re afraid of heat,” said the man, chuckling, “don’t come here. It’s this hot around this place.” “Look, fella,” said Pilgrim, “you’re not quite reasonable. The proverb says,

  Without heat or cold,

  Five grains will not grow.

  But the heat of this place is intense! Where do you get your flour for the pudding?” The man said,

  If you rice-pudding flour desire,

  Immortal Iron-Fan inquire.

  “What has Immortal Iron-Fan got to do with it?” asked Pilgrim. The man said, “That Immortal Iron-Fan happens to have a palm-leaf fan. If he lets you have it, one wave of the fan will extinguish the fire; the second will produce a breeze, and the third will start the rain. Only then can we sow and reap in due seasons, and that is how we produce the five grains. Without the immortal and the fan, not a blade of grass will grow in this region.”

  On hearing this, Pilgrim dashed inside and handed the piece of rice-pudding to Tripitaka, saying, “Relax, Master! Don’t get anxious before you have to. Eat the pudding first, and I’ll tell you something.” Holding the pudding in his hand, the elder said to the old man of the house, “Gong-gong, please take some pudding.” “I haven’t even served you tea or rice,” answered the old man. “Would I dare eat your pudding?” Smiling, Pilgrim said, “Dear Sir, you need not bestow on us any tea or rice. But let me ask you instead, where does the Immortal Iron-Fan live?” “Why do you ask?” said the old man.

  Pilgrim said, “Just now the pudding peddler said that this immortal has in his possession a palm-leaf fan. If he lets us have it, one wave of the fan will extinguish the fire, the second will bring on a breeze, and the third will start the rain. Then the people of your region can sow and reap the five grains for your livelihood. I would like to find him and ask for the fan to extinguish the Mountain of Flames. We’ll be able to pass then, and you people may also find a more stable existence by being able to plant and harvest according to the seasons.”

  “Yes,” replied the old man, “what the peddler said was correct. But you people don’t have any gifts, and I fear that the sage will be unwilling to come here.” “What sort of gifts does he want?” asked Tripitaka. The old man said, “The families of the region will seek an audience with the immortal once every ten years, and, as First Meeting presents, they must offer four hogs and four sheep, rare flowers and fine fruits in season, chickens, geese, and mellow wine. After cleansing themselves in ritual baths, they will go up in all sincerity to his immortal mountain to beg him come here to exercise his power.”

  “Where is that mountain located,” asked Pilgrim, “and what’s its name? How many miles away? I’ll go ask him for the fan.” “The mountain,” replied the old man, “is southwest of here, and it bears the name of Jade Cloud Mountain. In the mountain there is a cave by the name of the Palm-Leaf Cave. When the believers from our region go to worship on that mountain, the round trip takes approximately a month, for the distance is slightly over one thousand four hundred and fifty miles.” “That doesn’t matter,” said Pilgrim with a laugh. “I’ll be back in no time.” “Wait a moment,” said the old man, “take some food first, and let us prepare you some dried goods. You will need two other compan
ions, for there’s no human habitation on that road, but there are plenty of tigers and wolves. You can’t reach there in one day. It’s not fun, you know.” “No, no! I don’t need any of that,” said Pilgrim, laughing. “I’m going now!” Hardly had he finished speaking when he immediately disappeared. “Oh, Sire!” said the old man, greatly alarmed. “So you are a divine man who can soar on cloud and fog!”

  We’ll not continue to tell you how that family doubled its effort to be hospitable to the Tang Monk. We tell you instead about our Pilgrim, who arrived at the Jade Cloud Mountain instantly. He stopped his auspicious luminosity, and as he searched for the entrance of the cave, he heard the sound of a woodcutter chopping in the forest. When Pilgrim drew near, he heard the man chanting:

  By yonder clouds my dear, old forest I’ll know,

  Though wild grass, rough boulders hide the path below.

  When I see morning rain in western hills,

  The south brook, as I return, will overflow.

  Pilgrim went forward to salute him, saying, “Brother Woodsman, please accept my bow.” The woodcutter dropped his ax to return the greeting, saying, “Where are you going, Elder?” “May I inquire,” said Pilgrim, “whether this is the Jade Cloud Mountain?” The woodcutter replied, “It is.” “There is, I understand, a Palm-Leaf Cave that belongs to the Immortal Iron-Fan,” said Pilgrim. “Where is it?”

  Smiling, the woodcutter said, “We have a Palm-Leaf Cave, all right, but there is no Immortal Iron-Fan. There is only a Princess Iron-Fan, who also bears the name of Rākṣasī.”8 “People claim that this immortal has a palm-leaf fan,” said Pilgrim, “which can extinguish the Mountain of Flames. Is she the one?” “Exactly, exactly!” replied the woodcutter. “Because the sage has in her possession this treasure which can extinguish the fire and protect the families of other regions, she is commonly called the Immortal Iron-Fan. But the families of our region have no use for her; we only know her as Rākṣasī, who also happens to be the wife of the Mighty Bull Demon King.”

  When Pilgrim heard these words, he was so startled that he paled visibly. He thought to himself, “I’m up against another fated enemy! In a previous year, we brought to submission that Red Boy,9 who was said to have been reared by this woman. When I ran into his uncle at the Child Destruction Cave of the Male-Undoing Mountain,10 he already was filled with desire for vengeance and absolutely refused to give me the needed water. Now it is his parents that I have to face! How could I possibly succeed in borrowing the fan?”