by Unknown
In lovely green the fragrant plants thrived;
Radiantly the wild flowers bloomed.
This region, nonetheless,8 was an evil place.
It was the elder’s bad luck to come barging in!
The elder strode up to the door of the pagoda and found a mottled bamboo curtain hanging inside. Walking inside the door, he lifted up the curtain to proceed further when suddenly he saw before him a monster asleep on a stone couch. “How does he look?” you ask.
Indigo face,
Long white fangs,
And a big gaping mouth!
Tousled hair on the head’s two sides
Seemed as if it had been dyed red by rouge.
A few stubs of deep purple beard
Bore the look of lychee sprouting.
A nose curvate like a parrot’s beak,
And eyes glowing like the morning stars.
His two huge fists
Had the shape of a monk’s alms bowl.
Two blue-veined feet
Forked like branches dangling down a cliff.
Half covered by a light yellow robe,
Better than the silk-brocade cassock,
He still grasped a scimitar
Which gleamed and glittered.
He slept on a slab of stone
Both flawless and smooth.
He had led young fiends to make formations like ants,
And old demons to rule with order like bees.
Look at his awesome bearing,
When all his subjects
Raised the cry, “Sire!”
He had made the moon his third friend as he sipped his wine;9
He had felt the wind grow beneath his arms as tea was poured.
Look at his vast magic power!
In the twinkling of an eye
He could tour all the Heavens.
In his wild woods screeched birds and fowls;
In his dens slept dragons and snakes.
Immortals tilled his fields to grow white jade;
Daoists calmed his fire to raise cinnabar.
A door of a small cave
Did not, of course, lead to the Hell, Avīci;
But such an ugly monster
Seemed truly a bullheaded yakṣa!
When the elder saw that kind of appearance, he retreated in horror as his body turned numb and his legs flabby. He tried to turn and run, but just as he got out of the door, the monster, who was a rather alert creature, opened his demonic eyes with golden pupils and shouted, “Little ones, go see who is outside our door!” A little fiend stuck his head out the door and saw that it was a baldheaded elder. He ran quickly inside and reported, “Great King! It’s a priest outside. He has a round head and a large face, with two ears hanging down to his shoulders. He has a body full of tender flesh and very fine skin. He’s a good-looking priest!” When the monster heard these words, he laughed aloud, saying, “This is like what the proverb says:
Flies atop a serpent’s head—
Food by itself presented!
You, little ones. Chase him down and bring him back here. I have great rewards for you.” Those little fiends rushed out of the door like a swarm of bees.
When Tripitaka saw them, his mind wanted him to move like an arrow and his feet wanted to fly; but he quivered and shook, and his feet were numb and flaccid. Moreover, the mountain road was rugged, the forest was dark, and it was getting late. How could he possibly move fast enough? The little fiends ran him down and hauled him back bodily. Truly, it is like
The dragon in shallow water teased by shrimps,
The tiger on level ground mocked by dogs.
A noble venture may have many snags.
Who’s like the Tang Monk when he faces the West?
Look at those little fiends! After having carried the elder back and put him down outside the bamboo curtain, they ran happily to make this report: “Great King, we have caught the monk and brought him back.” The old monster stole a glance at Tripitaka and saw that he had an erect head and a handsome face. He was indeed a good-looking priest. The monster thought to himself, “Such a good-looking priest must be someone from a noble nation. I can’t treat him lightly. If I didn’t show him who’s boss here, would he willingly submit to me?” Like a fox affecting the authority of a tiger, he all at once bristled up his red hairs and whiskers while his eyes split wide open. “Bring that monk in!” he bellowed. “Yes, sir!” the various fiends shouted in response, as they shoved Tripitaka inside. As the proverb has it,
Standing beneath low-pitched eaves,
How could one not bow his head?
Tripitaka had no choice but to fold his hands and greet him.
“From what region are you, monk?” demanded the monster. “Where did you come from? Where are you going? Tell us quickly!” “I’m a monk from the Tang court,” said Tripitaka. “Having received the imperial decree of the Great Tang Emperor to seek scriptures in the West, I passed by your noble mountain and decided to seek an audience with the sage beneath this pagoda. I have no intention to disturb Your Eminence. Please forgive me. When I return to the Land of the East after acquiring scriptures in the West, your illustrious name will be recorded gratefully for posterity.”
When the monster heard these words, he roared with laughter, saying, “I said to myself that you were from a noble nation. So you are indeed! You’re exactly the person I want to eat! It’s marvelous that you presented yourself here. Otherwise, I might have missed you. You are ordained to be the food of my mouth. Since you have barged in here all by yourself, I couldn’t let you go even if I wanted to. And you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to!” He then ordered the little fiends, “Tie up that monk.” The little fiends rushed forward and fastened the elder firmly with ropes to the Spirit-Soothing Pillar.10
Grasping his scimitar, the old monster asked again, “Monk, how many persons are there in your entourage? Don’t tell me you dare go up to the Western Heaven all by yourself!” When Tripitaka saw him picking up the scimitar, he said candidly, “Great King, I have two disciples named Zhu Eight Rules and Sha Monk. They all left the pine forest to go beg for food. I have, moreover, one load of luggage and a white horse, which I left in the forest.” “That’s luckier yet!” said the old monster. “Two disciples including you make three, and there are really four of you if we count the horse. That’s enough for a meal!”
“Let’s go and catch them too,” said the little fiends. “Don’t go out,” said the old monster, “but shut the door instead. After begging the food, those disciples would bring it to their master; when they can’t find him, they will surely come seeking right up to our door. The proverb says, ‘Business at one’s own door is easier to do.’ Let’s take our time and catch them then.” The little fiends indeed closed the front door.
We speak no more of Tripitaka who met disaster; we tell you instead about Sha Monk, who left the pine forest looking for Eight Rules. He walked for over ten miles but did not see even a village or hamlet. He went up to a knoll to look all around when suddenly he heard someone speaking in the grass down below. Pushing the tall grass apart hurriedly with his staff, he found Idiot inside talking in his sleep. Sha Monk gave one of the huge ears a hard tug and cried, “Dear Idiot! Master told you to beg for food. Did he give you permission to sleep here?” Idiot woke up with a start, mumbling, “Brother, what time is it?” “Get up, quick!” said Sha Monk. “Master said that it didn’t matter whether there was food or not. He told us to try finding a place to stay instead.”
Picking up the alms bowl and toting his muckrake, Idiot walked back stupidly with Sha Monk. When they reached the forest, their master was nowhere to be seen. Sha Monk began to berate him, saying, “It’s all because of you, Idiot, for taking such a long time to find some food. Master must have been seized by a monster.” “Brother,” said Eight Rules, laughing, “don’t talk nonsense. This forest is a pure, lovely place and it definitely cannot harbor a monster. It must be that that old priest cannot sit still and has go
ne sightseeing somewhere. Let’s go find him.” The two of them picked up the hat and the priestly staff before they left the pine forest, leading the horse and poling the luggage as they searched for their master.
It happened that the Tang Monk at this time was not yet destined to die. Having looked for him for some time to no avail, his two disciples saw beams of golden light coming from the south. “Brother,” said Eight Rules, “the blessed will only receive more blessings! Master, you see, must have gone to that bejeweled pagoda over there that is giving off that light. Who will dare to be inhospitable at a place like that? They must insist on preparing vegetarian food and his staying to enjoy it. Why aren’t we moving? We should get there and have something, too.” “Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “you can’t tell whether it’s a good place or not. Let’s go and have a look first.” The two of them walked boldly up to the door of the edifice and found that it was closed. Across the top of the door was a slab of white jade on which were written in large letters the following words: Casserole Mountain, Current-Moon Cave.
“Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “this is no monastery. It’s a cave-dwelling of a monster. Even if Master were here, I doubt if we could see him.”
“Don’t be alarmed, Brother,” said Eight Rules. “Tie up the horse and stand guard over our luggage. Let me question them.” Holding high his muckrake, Idiot went forward and shouted, “Open the door! Open the door!” The little fiend who was standing guard inside opened the door. When he saw the two of them, he ran quickly to report, “Great King, business is here.” “What sort of business?” asked the old monster. “There is a monk with large ears and a long mouth outside our cave,” replied the little fiend, “and there is also another monk with the gloomiest appearance. They came calling at our door.” Greatly pleased, the old monster said, “They have to be Zhu Eight Rules and Sha Monk! Ho-ho! They know where to look all right! How did they manage to find our door so swiftly? Well, if they appear so audacious, let’s not treat them casually. Bring me my armor!” The little fiend brought it out and helped him put it on. Grasping the scimitar, the old monster walked out of the door.
Eight Rules and Sha Monk were waiting outside the door when they saw this savage fiend emerge. “How did he look?” you ask.
Green face, red beard, and floppy scarlet hair.
His yellow gold cuirass both sparkled and gleamed.
A belt inlaid with ribbed shells wrapped his waist;
A silk sash wound tightly round his armored chest.
The wind howled when he stood idly on the mount;
The waves churned when he glumly roamed the seas.
A pair of hands with veins both brown and blue
Grasped firmly the soul-snatching scimitar.
If you would learn this creature’s given name,
Remember Yellow Robe, two famous words.
That Old Monster Yellow Robe came out of the door and asked at once, “Where are you from, monk, that you dare cause this racket before my door?” “My child,” said Eight Rules, “don’t you recognize me? I’m your venerable father! I’m one sent by the Great Tang to go to the Western Heaven, for my master happens to be the royal brother, Tipitaka. If he’s in your house, send him out at once. That’ll spare me having to level it with my rake!” “Yes, yes,” said the fiend with a laugh, “there’s a Tang Monk in my house, and I haven’t denied him any hospitality either. I was just preparing some buns filled with human flesh for him to enjoy. You two can go inside and have one also. How about it?”
Idiot indeed would have gone inside immediately if Sha Monk had not pulled him back, saying, “Elder Brother, he’s deceiving you. Since when did you start eating human flesh again?” Only then did Idiot realize his mistake. Raising his muckrake, he brought it down hard on the monster’s face. The monster stepped aside to dodge the blow and then turned to meet him with uplifted scimitar. The two of them, summoning their magic powers, mounted the clouds to fight in midair. Sha Monk abandoned the luggage and the white horse; wielding his precious staff, he joined the fray also. At this time, two fierce monks and one brazen monster began a savage battle on the edge of the clouds. Thus it was that
The staff rose high, met by the scimitar;
The muckrake came, blocked by the scimitar.
One demon warrior used his power;
Two divine monks displayed their might.
The nine-pronged rake, how truly heroic!
The fiend-routing staff, ferocious indeed!
Their blows fell left and right, in front and back,
But squire Yellow Robe showed no fear at all.
See his steel scimitar shining like silver!
And, in truth, his magic power was great.
They fought till all the sky
Was fogbound and beclouded;
And in midmountain
Stones cracked and cliff sides collapsed.
This one, for the sake of his fame,
How could he give up?
That one for the sake of his master
Would surely show no fear.
The three of them closed in again and again in midair for scores of times but a decision could not be reached. Though each of them cared for his life, none of them was about to be separated. We do not know how the disciples manage to rescue the Tang Monk; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
TWENTY-NINE
Free of his peril, River Float arrives at the kingdom;
Receiving favor, Eight Rules invades the forest.
The poem says:1
Vain thoughts cannot be slain by force.
Why must you seek after Suchness?
Refine before Buddha your self-existent mind—
Are not illusion and enlightenment the same?
Enlightened, you reach instantly the Right;
Deluded, you sink in ten thousand kalpas.
If you can cultivate one thought with Truth,
Sins vast as Ganges’ sand are wiped out.
We were telling you about Eight Rules and Sha Monk, who fought with that monster for over thirty rounds but a decision could not be reached. Why not, you ask. If it were a matter of matching abilities, you needn’t speak of two monks. Even if there were twenty monks, they would still be unable to withstand that monster. It was only because of the fact that the Tang Monk was not yet fated to die that his followers could count on the help of certain deities. Eight Rules and Sha Monk, therefore, were assisted in secret in the air by the Six Gods of Light and Six Gods of Darkness, the Guardians of Five Quarters, the Four Sentinels, and the Eighteen Guardian-Spirits of monasteries.
For the moment we shall speak no more of the battle between the three of them. We tell you instead about the elder, who was weeping piteously in the cave and thinking about his disciples. As tears fell from his eyes, he said to himself, “Wuneng, I don’t know in which village you have met a friend of truth and are enjoying being fed. O, Wujing! Where have you gone to search for him, and how will you be able to meet him? Will you two realize that I met a demon, that I’m suffering here? When will I see you both again? When will I escape from this great ordeal so that I can reach the Spirit Mountain soon?” As he was giving voice to his grief in this manner, he suddenly saw a woman walk out from inside the cave. Holding on to the Spirit-Soothing Pillar, she said, “Elder, where did you come from? Why are you bound here by him?”
When the elder heard this, he turned his teary eyes to steal a glance at her and found that she was about thirty years old. “Lady Bodhisattva,” he said, “no need for further questions. I must have been fated to die when I entered your door. If you want to devour me, go ahead. Why bother to question me?” The woman said, “I don’t eat people! About three hundred miles west of here is my home, a city by the name of the Precious Image Kingdom.2 I’m the third princess of its king, and my childhood name is Hundred Flowers’ Shame. Thirteen years ago, on the eve of the fifteenth of the eighth month, I was enjoying the sight of the moon when this monster-spirit kidnapped m
e and brought me here in a violent wind. I was forced to become his wife for all these thirteen years and to bear his children. It was impossible, of course, for me to send any news back to the Court, and I couldn’t see my parents even though I thought of them frequently. But where did you come from, and how did he catch you?”
“This poor monk,” said the Tang Monk, “is someone sent to acquire scriptures in the Western Heaven. I was taking a walk when I bumped into this place. Now he wants to catch my two disciples also so that we will all be steamed and eaten together.” “Elder, please don’t worry,” said the princess with a smile. “If you are a scripture pilgrim, I can save you, for the Precious Image Kingdom is right on your main path to the West. All I ask of you is to deliver a letter for me to my parents and I’ll ask my husband to let you go.” Nodding his head, the Tang Monk said, “Lady Bodhisattva, if you can save the life of this poor monk, I shall be glad to serve as your messenger.”
Quickly running inside, the princess wrote a letter and had it properly sealed. She then went back out to the pillar and untied him before handing him the letter. After he was freed, the Tang Monk held the letter in his hands and said, “Lady Bodhisattva, thank you for saving my life. When this poor monk reaches your kingdom, he will certainly deliver the letter to the king. I fear, however, that such a lengthy separation will make it difficult for your parents to recognize anything from you. What shall I do then? They would not accuse me of lying, would they?” “No fear,” said the princess. “My parents have no son; all they have are us three sisters. When they see this letter, they will look after you.” Tucking the letter deep into his sleeve, Tripitaka thanked the princess again and started to walk out. “You can’t go out the front door!” said the princess, tugging at him. “Those monster-spirits, great and small, are all outside waving the banners and beating the drums and gongs to assist the Great King, who is at this very moment fighting with your disciples. You’d better leave by the back door. If the Great King seizes you, he will at least interrogate you. But if the little fiends catch hold of you, they may slaughter you on the spot without further ado. Let me go instead to the front and speak a word on your behalf. If the Great King is willing to let you go, your disciples can take that as a favor and leave with you.” When Tripitaka heard these words, he kowtowed to the princess before taking leave of her. After walking out of the back door, he dared not proceed; instead, he hid himself in some bushes and waited.