by Unknown
The Grand Thearch said, “I have one grain of the Great Monad Elixir of Nine Reversions. It can cure all the sentient creatures in the world, but it cannot cure trees. For trees are the spirits of earth and wood, nourished by Heaven and Earth. Moreover, the Ginseng Fruit Tree is no tree of the mortal world; if it were, you might find a cure for it. But the Long Life Mountain happens to be a Heavenly region, and the Abbey of Five Villages is a cave-heaven of the West Aparagodānīya Continent. And the Ginseng Fruit Tree produced there is a spiritual root that came into existence at the time of creation. How could it be healed? I have no cure, none whatever!”
“If you have no cure, old Monkey will take his leave,” said Pilgrim. The Grand Thearch would have liked to offer him a cup of jade nectar, but Pilgrim said, “This is emergency business; I dare not linger.” He then mounted the clouds to proceed to the island of Yingzhou. This, too, was a lovely place, for which we have a testimonial poem. The poem says:
The elegant pearl tree9 aglow in purple mists;
Yingzhou’s arches and towers touching the sky;
Green hills, blue waters, and fair coralline blooms;
Jade nectar, red steel,10 and the hard iron stone.
The five-colored cock crows at the sea’s sunrise;
The red phoenix, ageless, breathes in scarlet mists.
In vain mortals would seek this gourd-held scene,11
An endless spring beyond the world of forms.
Our Great Sage arrived at Yingzhou, where before the red cliffs and beneath the pearl trees sat several figures with luminous white hair and beards, immortals of youthful complexion. They were playing chess and drinking wine, telling jokes and singing songs. Truly there were
Hallowed clouds all filled with light;
Auspicious mists with fragrance afloat;
Colorful phoenixes calling at the cave’s entrance;
Dark cranes dancing on top of the mountain.
Jadelike lotus roots and peaches went well with wine;
Magic pears and fire dates prolonged the years.
None of them had need to heed a royal summons,
Though the divine record had each of their names.
Wholly at ease, they could wander and play;
With no work or care, they could do as they please.
The months, the years had no hold on their lives;
Throughout the great world they were completely free.
How lovely were the black apes
Who came in pairs, bowing, to present the fruits!
How friendly are the white deer
Who lay down two by two with flowers in their mouths!
Those old men were enjoying themselves when our Pilgrim walked up to them and cried, “How about letting me have some fun too?” When the immortals saw him, they quickly rose to greet him. We have a poem as a testimony, and the poem says:
The spirit roots of the Ginseng Fruit Tree snapped;
The Great Sage called on the gods for a wondrous cure.
As scarlet light poured from the divine grove,
He was met by the Nine Elders of Yingzhou.
Recognizing the Nine Elders, Pilgrim said, laughing, “Old Brothers, how content you are!” “If the Great Sage in years past had persevered in the truth,” said the Nine Elders, “and had not disrupted Heaven, he would be even more content than we are. But you are all right now. We heard that you had returned to the truth to seek Buddha in the West. Where do you find such leisure to come here?” Pilgrim then gave a thorough account of his efforts to find a cure for the tree. Astounded, the Nine Elders said, “You cause too much trouble! Just too much trouble. Honestly, we don’t have any cure.” “If you don’t,” said Pilgrim, “I shall take leave of you.”
The Nine Elders asked him to stay and drink some jade nectar and eat some lotus root. Pilgrim would not sit down but, standing, drank a glass of nectar and ate a piece of lotus. He then left Yingzhou swiftly and headed straight for the Great Eastern Ocean. Soon the Potalaka Mountain came in sight. Dropping down from the clouds, he went straight to the top of the mountain, where he saw the Bodhisattva Guanyin giving a lecture to the various celestial guardians, dragon-ladies, and Mokṣa in the purple bamboo grove. As a testimony, we have a poem which says:
The sea-mistress city’s tall with thick hallowed air.
Here you see countless marvelous things.
Know that the thousand vague and varied forms
Are all found in a book’s one soundless leaf.12
Four Noble Truths13 conferred will bear right fruit:
Six Stages,14 when listened to, will set you free.
This young grove15 has pleasures special and true:
Trees full of reddened fruits and fragrant flowers.
The Bodhisattva was the first to notice Pilgrim’s arrival, and she asked the Great Mountain Guardian to go meet him. As he came out of the grove, the guardian shouted, “Sun Wukong, where are you going?” Raising his head, Pilgrim cried, “Bear rascal! Is Wukong the name for you to take in vain? If old Monkey hadn’t spared you back then, you would have been a corpse on the Black Wind Mountain. Today you are a follower of the Bodhisattva, for you have received the virtuous fruit and you have been made a resident of this immortal mountain so that you can listen frequently to the dharma teachings. Now, with all these benefits, can’t you address me as ‘Venerable Father’?” That Black Bear, you see, had indeed attained the right fruit, but the fact that he was made a guardian of the Potalaka and given the title “Great Guardian” was something that he owed to Pilgrim. So he really could not do anything but smile and say, “Great Sage, the ancients said, ‘The princely man does not dwell on old faults.’ Why mention my past? The Bodhisattva asked me to come meet you.” Our Pilgrim at once became solemn and earnest as he followed the Great Guardian to bow down to the Bodhisattva in the purple bamboo grove.
“Wukong,” said the Bodhisattva, “where has the Tang Monk reached in his journey?” “The Long Life Mountain, in the West Aparagodānīya Continent,” said Pilgrim. “In that Long Life Mountain,” said the Bodhisattva, “there is an Abbey of Five Villages, which is the home of the Zhenyuan Great Immortal. Did you come across him?” Banging his head on the ground, Pilgrim said, “It was all because of your disciple, who did not know the Zhenyuan Great Immortal at that Abbey of Five Villages. I offended him by damaging his tree, and he in turn held up my master, preventing him from making any progress in his journey.”
“You mischievous monkey!” scolded the Bodhisattva, who already had knowledge of the whole affair. “You don’t know any better! That Ginseng Fruit Tree of his is the spiritual root planted by Heaven and nourished by Earth. Master Zhenyuan himself is also the patriarch of earthbound immortals, and even I must be somewhat deferential to him. Why did you damage his tree?”
Bowing low again, Pilgrim said, “Your disciple was truly ignorant. The day when we arrived at the Abbey, Master Zhenyuan was not home, and only two immortal lads were there to receive us. It was Zhu Wuneng who discovered that they had these fruits, and he wanted to try one. Your disciple stole three such fruits, which we three brothers divided up among ourselves. When the lads found out, they kept on chiding us until I became so angry that I pushed down the tree. Their master returned the following day and caught up with us; after he had scooped us up with his sleeve, he had us bound and whipped, interrogating and torturing us for a whole day. We escaped that night, but he caught up with us again and took us captive as before. Two or three times it went on like this, and when I became convinced that it was impossible for us to flee, I promised him that I would heal the tree. I have just made a complete tour of the Three Islands seeking a cure from the sea, but none of the immortals was able to give me one. That’s why your disciple has come to bow before you in all sincerity. I beg the Bodhisattva in her compassion to grant me a cure, so that the Tang Monk can soon journey toward the West.”
“Why didn’t you come see me earlier?” asked the Bodhisattva. “Why did you go looking inste
ad on the islands?” When Pilgrim heard these words, he was secretly pleased and said to himself, “What luck! What luck! The Bodhisattva must have a cure!” He went forward again to beg some more, and the Bodhisattva said, “The sweet dew in my immaculate vase can heal divine trees or spirit roots.” “Have you tried this before?” asked Pilgrim. “Indeed,” said the Bodhisattva. “When?” asked Pilgrim.
The Bodhisattva said, “Some years ago Laozi had a wager with me: he took my willow twig and placed it in his elixir-refining brazier until it was completely dried and charred. Then he gave it back to me, and I stuck it in my vase. After one day and one night, I had my green twig and leaves again, as lovely as before.” Laughing, Pilgrim said, “I’m lucky! Truly lucky! If a scorched willow could be revived, what’s so difficult about a tree that has been knocked over?” The Bodhisattva then gave this order to the rest of her followers: “Maintain your vigilance in the grove. I’ll be back soon.” She left, balancing the immaculate vase in her hand; the white parrot flew ahead of her, while the Great Sage Sun followed from behind. We have a testimonial poem, and the poem says:
The world can’t limn this jade-browed16 golden form:
A God who pities and saves us from woes.
As stainless Buddha she met kalpas past.
A self which can do she has now attained.17
She calms passion’s billows in many lives;
Her moral nature is wholly unsoiled.
The sweet dew, long charged with true wondrous might,
Will bring the precious tree eternal life.
We now tell you about the Great Immortal, who was just having lofty conversations with the Three Elders when all at once they saw the Great Sage Sun drop down from the clouds and shout, “The Bodhisattva has arrived. Come meet her quickly! Come meet her quickly!” The Three Stars, Master Zhenyuan, Tripitaka, and his disciples all hurried out of the main hall. Stopping her sacred cloud, the Bodhisattva first exchanged greetings with Master Zhenyuan before bowing to the Three Stars. After the ceremony, she took the seat of honor as Pilgrim led the Tang monk, Eight Rules, and Sha Monk to bow to her. After that, the various immortals in the Abbey also came to greet her. “Great Immortal,” said Pilgrim, “there’s no need for further delay. You may as well prepare the table of incense at once and ask the Bodhisattva to heal that fruit tree of yours.” Bowing low to thank the Bodhisattva, the Great Immortal said, “Why should the trivial affair of this plebeian be such a concern to the Bodhisattva that she would take the trouble of coming here?” “The Tang Monk is my disciple,” said the Bodhisattva. “If Sun Wukong has wronged you, it’s only reasonable that he should make recompense and return your precious tree.” “In that case,” said the Three Stars, “there’s no further need for polite talk. May we ask the Bodhisattva to go to the garden and see what can be done?”
The Great Immortal gave the order to prepare an incense table and to sweep the grounds in the rear garden. The Bodhisattva was asked to lead the way, followed by the Three Elders, Tripitaka, his disciples, and the various immortals of the Abbey. When they arrived at the garden, they saw the tree lying on the ground—with the soil around it turned up, its roots exposed, its leaves fallen, and its branches dried up. “Wukong,” cried the Bodhisattva, “stretch out your hand.” Pilgrim stretched out his left hand. Dipping the willow twig into the sweet dew of her vase, the Bodhisattva then used it as a brush and drew on the palm of Pilgrim a charm that had revivifying power. She told him to place his hand at the base of the tree and watch for the sign of water spurting out. His hand closed tightly, Pilgrim went to the base of the tree and placed his fist on the roots. In a little while, a clear spring welled up from the ground. The Bodhisattva said, “That water cannot be touched by any instrument containing any one of the Five Phases. It must be scooped up by a jade ladle. Push the tree back up into an upright position; pour the water over it from the top down. The bark and the roots will grow back together again; the leaves will come out, the branches will turn green, and the fruits will appear.”
“Little Daoists,” said Pilgrim, “bring me a jade ladle, quickly.” “Your humble Daoist lives in a rural area,” said Master Zhenyuan, “and there is no jade ladle available. We have only jade tea cups and jade wine goblets. Can they be used?” “As long as they are made of jade,” said the Bodhisattva, “and capable of bailing water, they will be all right. Bring them here.” The Great Immortal asked the little lads to take out some thirty jade tea cups and some fifty wine goblets with which they scooped up the clear water. Pilgrim, Eight Rules, and Sha Monk raised the tree into an upright position and covered its base with topsoil. They then handed the jade cups one by one to the Bodhisattva, who sprinkled the sweet liquid onto the tree with her willow branch as she recited a spell. Before long, she stopped sprinkling, and the tree turned green all at once with thick leaves and branches. Twenty-three ginseng fruits could be seen on top. Clear Breeze and Bright Moon, the two lads, said, “When we discovered our loss the day before, we came up with only twenty-two fruits even after we had counted them over and over. Why is there an extra one today after it has been revived?” “‘Time will disclose the true intent of man,’” said Pilgrim. “Old Monkey took only three the other day; the fourth one dropped to the ground and disappeared, for as the local spirit told me, this treasure would become assimilated once it touched earth. Eight Rules kept hollering about my skimming something off the top, and that was how my act was discovered. Only today is this whole mess cleared up.”
The Bodhisattva said, “That’s why I didn’t use any instrument containing the Five Phases just now, for I know that this thing and the Five Phases are mutually resistant.” Highly pleased, the Great Immortal asked for the gold mallet at once and had ten of the fruits knocked down. He then invited the Bodhisattva and the Three Elders to go back to the main hall, where a Festival of Ginseng Fruits would be given in their honor. The little immortals duly set the tables and took out the cinnabar trays, while the Bodhisattva was asked to take the seat of honor in the center. The Three Elders were seated at the table to the left, the Tank Monk was placed at the right, and Master Zhenyuan as the host took up the seat down below. We have a testimonial poem that says:
At Long Life Mountain’s cave-heaven of old,
Ginseng fruits ripen every nine thousand years.
The spirit root exposed, hurting twigs and shoots;
The sweet dew revives, fruits and leaves made whole.
Three Elders gladly meet all these old chums;
The four monks find by luck friends foreordained.
Now they have learned to eat the ginseng fruits;
They’ll all be immortals who never age.
Presently the Bodhisattva and the Three Elders each ate a fruit. Finally convinced that this was a treasure of the immortals, the Tang Monk also ate one. Each of the three disciples also ate one, and Master Zhenyuan himself took one to keep his guests company. The last one of the fruits was divided among the other residents of the Abbey. Pilgrim thanked the Bodhisattva and the Three Stars, who went back to the Potalaka Mountain and Penglai Island, respectively. Master Zhenyuan also prepared some vegetarian wine for a banquet, during which he and Pilgrim became bond-brothers. As the proverb says,
Without fighting they would not know each other;
But now the two parties have become one household.
Happily, master and disciples spent a restful night there. Thus it was with that Elder, who was
Lucky to have tasted the grass of reverted cinnabar;
His long life would endure the ordeals of ogres.
We do not know how they will part the following day; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The cadaver demon three times mocks Tripitaka Tang;
The holy monk in spite banishes Handsome Monkey King.
We were telling you about Tripitaka and his disciples, who made preparations to leave the next morning. Our Master Zhenyuan, however, had become such a fast frien
d of Pilgrim since the two were made bond-brothers that he refused to let them leave. He gave orders instead that they should be feted for five or six days. Ever since he took the grass of the reverted cinnabar, the elder’s spirit had been strengthened and his body made healthier; he felt as if his entire physical frame had been renewed. As he was intent on acquiring the scriptures, he refused to stay, and so they departed.
After taking their leave, master and disciples took to the road and soon came upon a tall mountain. “Disciples,” said Tripitaka, “the mountain ahead appears to be rugged and steep, and I fear that the horse may not be able to proceed so easily. Every one of you should be careful.” “Have no fear, Master,” said Pilgrim. “We know how to take care of everything.” Dear Monkey King! He led the way; carrying his rod horizontally across both his shoulders, he opened up a mountain path and led them up to a tall cliff. They saw
Peaks and summits in rows;
Streams and canyons meandrous;
Tigers and wolves running in packs;
Deer and fallow deer walking in flocks;
Countless musks and boars massed together;
A mountain swarming with foxes and hares.
The huge python of a thousand feet;
The long snake of ten thousand feet.
The huge python blew out awful mists;
The long snake belched dreadful air.
By the road thorns and thistles sprawled unending;
On the peak pines and cedars grew resplendent.
Wild hemps and creepers filled their eyes;
Fragrant plants reached up to the sky.