by Unknown
Dear Great Sage! He took out his golden-hooped rod and gave both its ends a pull, crying, “Grow!” It grew to about seventy or eighty feet long. “Eight Rules,” he said, “you grab hold of one end, and I’ll let you down the well.” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “you can do that, but when we reach the surface of the water, you stop.” “I know,” said Pilgrim. Idiot then wrapped himself around the rod at one end, and with no effort at all Pilgrim picked him up and lowered him into the well. In a little while, they reached the edge of the water and Eight Rules said, “We’re touching water.” When Pilgrim heard that, he gave the rod a plunge downward and with a loud splash Idiot fell into the water headfirst. Abandoning the iron rod, he began at once to tread water, muttering to himself, “Damn him! I told him to stop when we reached water, but he gave me a plunge instead.” Pilgrim retrieved his rod and said, laughing, “Brother, is there any treasure?”
“What treasure?” said Eight Rules, “only a well of water!”
Pilgrim said, “The treasure has sunk deep into the water. Why don’t you go below and feel around?” Idiot indeed knew well the nature of water; he ducked his head under the surface and dove straight down. Ah, the well was extremely deep! He plunged hard a second time before opening his eyes to look around, and he saw all at once a towered edifice, on which were written the three words, “Water Crystal Palace.” Highly shaken, Eight Rules said, “Undone! Undone! I got on the wrong way. I must have fallen into the ocean, for only the ocean has a Water Crystal Palace. How could there be one in a well?” Eight Rules, you see, did not know that this happened to be the palace of the Well Dragon King.
As Eight Rules was speaking to himself, a yakṣa on patrol opened the gate of the palace. When he saw what he saw, he ran inside to report, saying, “Great King, disaster! From the well above fell a monk with a long snout and huge ears, stark naked and without a stitch of clothing. He isn’t dead yet, and he is talking.” When the Well Dragon King heard this, he was greatly startled. “This must be the Marshal of Heavenly Reeds. Last night the Night Patrol God came here by imperial decree from above to take the soul of the king of the Black Rooster Kingdom to see the Tang Monk. They were to ask the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, to subdue a fiend. This has to be the Great Sage and the Marshal of Heavenly Reeds. We should not treat them rudely. Hurry, we must welcome them.”
Straightening out his clothes, the dragon king led his water kinsmen out the door and cried in a loud voice, “Marshal of Heavenly Reeds, please take a seat inside.” Eight Rules became very pleased and said to himself, “So there’s a friend here!” Without regard for etiquette or decency, Idiot walked right into the Water Crystal Palace and, still stark naked, took the honored seat above. “Marshal,” said the dragon king, “I heard recently that your life was spared when you embraced the Buddhist faith to accompany the Tang Monk to acquire scriptures in the Western Heaven. For what reason have you come here?” “I was just about to tell you that,” said Eight Rules. “My elder brother, Sun Wukong, wanted to send you his most earnest greetings. He told me to come to ask you for a certain treasure.”
“That’s pitiful!” said the dragon king. “Where do I have any treasure around here? I’m not like those other dragon kings of such big rivers as the Yangzi, the Yellow River, the Huai, and the Ji. When they can fly and soar through the air most of the time to transform, they will have treasures. I have been stuck here for a long time; I can’t even get to see the sun and the moon regularly. Where would I get any treasures?” “Don’t refuse me,” said Eight Rules. “If you have any, bring them out.” “I do have just one treasure,” said the dragon king, “but I can’t bring it out. The Marshal himself will have to go and take a look. How about it?” “Wonderful! Wonderful! Wonderful!” said Eight Rules. “I’ll go and take a look.”
The dragon king walked in front, while Idiot followed. They passed the Water Crystal Palace and came upon a long corridor, inside of which they found a six-foot corpse. Pointing with his finger, the dragon king said, “Marshal, that’s the treasure.” Eight Rules went forward to look at it. Ah, it was actually a dead king; still wearing a rising-to-Heaven cap, a reddish brown robe, a pair of carefree boots, and a jade belt, he lay there stiff as a board. “Hard! Hard! Hard!” said Eight Rules, chuckling. “This can’t be considered a treasure! When I recall the time when old Hog was a monster in the mountain, this thing was frequently used as food. Don’t ask me how many such things I have seen—even as far as eating was concerned, I have consumed countless numbers. How could you call this a treasure?”
“So you don’t know, Marshal,” said the dragon king, “that he is actually the corpse of the king of the Black Rooster Kingdom. Since he reached the well, I have embalmed him with a feature-preserving pearl so that he won’t deteriorate. If you are willing to carry him out of here on your back to see the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, who, by the way, may have the wish to revive him, don’t speak of treasures—you can have anything you want.” “In that case,” said Eight Rules, “I’ll carry him out on my back for you. But how much cartage are you going to pay me?” The dragon king said, “I don’t have any money.” “You want to use people free!” said Eight Rules. “If you really don’t have any money, I won’t carry him.” “If you don’t,” said the dragon king, “please go.” Eight Rules left at once. The dragon king, however, ordered two powerful yakṣas to haul the corpse out of the Water Crystal Palace’s gate. They threw him down, took off the water-repelling pearl, and water began to close in on all sides noisily.
Turning around quickly to look, Eight Rules could no longer see the gate of the Water Crystal Palace. When he stretched out his hands, all he could lay hold of was the corpse of the king, the touch of which made his legs weaken and his tendons turn numb with fear. He darted up to the surface of the water; with his hands clinging to the wall of the well, he shouted, “Elder Brother, stick your rod down here to save me!” “Is there any treasure?” asked Pilgrim. Eight Rules said, “There isn’t any! Beneath the water, however, there’s a Well Dragon King, who told me to carry a dead man on my back. I wouldn’t do it, and he sent me out the door; that was when his Water Crystal Palace disappeared also. When I felt that corpse, I was so scared that my hands grew weak and my tendons turned numb; I could hardly move. Elder Brother, for good or ill please save me.”
“That’s precisely the treasure,” said Pilgrim. “Why won’t you carry him up here?” Eight Rules said, “He must have been dead for quite awhile. Why should I carry him on my back?” “If you won’t,” said Pilgrim, “I’ll go back.”
“Where?” asked Eight Rules.
“I’m going back to the monastery,” said Pilgrim, “to get some sleep with Master.” “You mean I can’t go with you?” said Eight Rules.
Pilgrim said, “If you can climb up here, I’ll take you back with me; if you can’t, well that’s it!” Eight Rules was horrified, for how could he possibly climb up the well. “Take a look,” he yelled. “Even the city wall was hard to scale already, whereas this well is large down below with a small mouth on top. All around the circular wall is straight up and down. Moreover, it has been such a long time since anyone has bailed water from this well that it’s covered with moss everywhere. It’s terribly slippery. How could I possibly climb it? Elder Brother, let’s not upset our fraternal feelings, let me go and carry him up on my back.” “Exactly,” said Pilgrim. “Do it quickly, and I’ll go back with you to sleep.”
Idiot put his head underwater again and dove straight down; after he found the corpse, he pulled it onto his back and shot back up to the surface. Supporting himself on the wall of the well, he cried, “Elder Brother, I’m carrying him.” Pilgrim stared into the well and saw that the body was indeed placed on Eight Rules’s back. Only then did he lower the golden-hooped rod into the well. A man who had been sorely tried, Idiot opened his mouth and held on to the tip of the iron rod with his teeth; he was then lifted up out of the well by Pilgrim with no effort at all.
Putting down
the corpse, Eight Rules grabbed his own clothes and put them on. When Pilgrim took a look, he found that the features of the dead king had not altered in the slightest—it was as if he were still alive. “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “this man has been dead for three years. How could his features not deteriorate?” “You have no idea about this,” said Eight Rules. “This Well Dragon said to me that he had embalmed the corpse with a feature-preserving pearl, and that’s why it has not deteriorated.” “Lucky! Lucky!” said Pilgrim. “This has to mean that his wrong has yet to be requited, and that we are fated to succeed. Brother, put him on your back again quickly and we’ll leave.”
“Where do you want me to carry him?” asked Eight Rules.
“To see Master,” said Pilgrim.
Eight Rules began to grumble, saying, “How am I going to live with this? I was sleeping nicely when this monkey fooled me with his clever talk into doing this so-called business with him. It turns out to be this sort of enterprise—carrying a dead man on my back! When I carry him, some putrid stinking fluid is bound to drip on me and soil my clothes, and there is no one ready to wash and starch them for me. The few patches on my garment may even turn damp again when the sky is grey. How can I wear them?”
“Look, you just carry him,” said Pilgrim, “and when we get to the monastery, I’ll exchange clothes with you.” “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” asked Eight Rules. “You have hardly anything to wear, and you are going to exchange clothes with me?” Pilgrim said, “Oh, you are so smart mouthed! You aren’t going to carry him?” “No!” said Eight Rules. “Stick out your shanks then,” said Pilgrim, “and I’ll give you twenty strokes of my rod!” Horrified, Eight Rules said, “Elder Brother, that’s a heavy rod! If you give me twenty strokes, I’d be like this king!” “If you are afraid of being beaten,” said Pilgrim, “then hurry up and put him on your back so that we can leave.” Eight Rules was indeed afraid of being beaten; rather listlessly, he yanked the corpse over and put it on his back before turning to walk out of the garden.
Dear Great Sage! Making the magic sign with his fingers, he recited a spell and sucked in a mouthful of air facing the ground in the southwest. When he blew it out, a violent gust immediately arose and lifted Eight Rules out of the palace. They left the city instantly; as the wind subsided, the two of them dropped to the ground and proceeded slowly on foot. Nursing his rage in silence, Idiot planned to repay Pilgrim in kind, saying to himself, “This monkey has pulled a nice prank on me, but when I get to the monastery I’m going to pull one on him, too. I’m going to persuade Master to insist on restoring the king back to life. If that monkey can’t do it, I’ll make Master recite that Tight-Fillet Spell until this monkey’s brains burst. That will give me some relief!” He walked along and thought further to himself, “No good, no good! If you make him heal the man, all he has to do is to go and ask King Yama for the soul, and the man will live again. I must set the conditions so that he won’t be permitted to go to the Region of Darkness; the king has to be restored to life through some means found in the World of Light. Only such a plan is good.”
Hardly had he finished speaking to himself when they reached the gate of the monastery. Eight Rules walked right through it and went up to the door of the Chan hall, where he threw down the corpse and cried, “Master, get up and look at this.” Unable to sleep, Tripitaka was just chatting with Sha Monk on how Pilgrim had deceived Eight Rules into going with him, and how they did not return after such a long time. When he heard the call, the Tang Monk quickly arose and said, “Disciple, what do you want me to look at?”
“The grandpa of Pilgrim,” said Eight Rules, “whom old Hog has brought back on his back.” “You pie-eyed Idiot!” said Pilgrim. “Where do I have a grandpa?” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “if he isn’t your grandpa, why did you ask old Hog to bear him here? You don’t know how much energy I’ve wasted!”
The Tang Monk and Sha Monk opened the door to look, and they discovered that the countenance of the king had not altered at all. Turning sad all at once, the elder said, “Your Majesty, in which previous existence did you incur an enemy who had to catch up with you in this one and cause you to lose your life? Alas, you left your wife and your child, unknown to all the civil and military officials! Pity your wife who’s still in the dark! Who will burn incense or pour tea for you?” He was so broken up that he could not speak anymore as tears rained down his cheeks.
“Master,” said Eight Rules, laughing, “what does his death have to do with you? He isn’t one of your ancestors. Why weep for him?” “O disciple!” said the Tang Monk, “the fundamental principle of life for those who have left the family is compassion. How could you be so hardhearted?” “I’m not hardhearted,” said Eight Rules, “for Elder Brother told me that he could restore him to life. If he couldn’t, I wouldn’t have carried him back here.” This elder, after all, had a head full of water! Shaken by these few words of Idiot, he said at once, “Wukong, if you indeed have the ability to restore this king to life, you would have accomplished something greater than building a seven-storied stūpa. And even we would have been benefited as if we had worshipped Buddha in the Spirit Mountain.”
Pilgrim said, “Master, how could you believe the nonsense of this Idiot! When a man dies, he can pass through the periods of three times seven or five times seven; at most, he may wait for seven hundred days, when after having suffered for all the sins committed in the World of Light, he will then proceed to the next incarnation. This man here died three years ago. How could I revive him?” When Tripitaka heard these words, he said, “Oh, all right!”
Still bitterly resentful, however, Eight Rules said, “Master, don’t believe him. He’s a little sick in his brain! Just recite that little something of yours, and you are certain to get a living man.” The Tang Monk indeed began to recite the Tight-Fillet Spell, and the monkey had such a headache that his eyes bulged. We do not know how he managed to heal the dead king; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
THIRTY-NINE
One pellet of cinnabar elixir found in Heaven;
A king, dead three years, lives again on Earth.
We were telling you about the Great Sage Sun, who could hardly bear his headache. “Master,” he pleaded pitifully, “stop reciting! Stop reciting! Let me try to heal him.” “How?” asked the elder. Pilgrim said, “All I need to do is to go to the Region of Darkness and find out in which of the Ten Kings’ chambers his soul is residing. I’ll fetch it and he’ll be saved.” “Master, don’t believe him,” said Eight Rules. “He told me originally that he needn’t go to the Region of Darkness, that his real ability could not be seen unless a cure was found in the World of Light.” Believing in such perverse tattle, the elder began to recite the Tight-Fillet Spell once more. Pilgrim was so horrified that he had to say repeatedly, “I’ll find some means in the World of Light! I’ll find some means in the World of Light!” “Don’t stop,” said Eight Rules, “just keep reciting!” “You idiotic cursed beast!” chided Pilgrim. “You are just trying to coax Master into putting that spell on me!” Laughing until he nearly collapsed, Eight Rules said, “O Elder Brother! You only know how to pull tricks on me, but you don’t realize that I can do the same on you.” “Master, please stop,” said Pilgrim, “and let old Monkey find a cure in the World of Light for the king.” “Where would you find it in the World of Light?” asked Tripitaka. “With a single cloud somersault,” said Pilgrim, “I shall penetrate the South Heaven Gate, but I’ll not go into the Big Dipper Palace nor into the Divine Mists Hall. Instead, I shall go straight up to the Thirty-third Heaven, to the Tushita Palace of the Griefless Heaven. When I see Laozi there, I shall beg him for one pellet of his Soul-Restoring Elixir of Nine Reversions, which will certainly make this man live again.”
When Tripitaka heard these words, he was very pleased and said, “Go quickly and come back.” “It’s about the hour of the third watch at this moment,” said Pilgrim, “but by the time I get back, it’ll be dawn.
The trouble with this man sleeping here like this is that the whole atmosphere seems so dull and heartless. Someone here should mourn him and that’ll be more like it.” “It goes without saying,” said Eight Rules, “that this monkey would like me to mourn the king.” “Yes, but I’m afraid that you won’t,” said Pilgrim. “If you won’t, I can’t heal him either!” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “you may go. I’ll mourn him.” Pilgrim said, “There are several ways of mourning: when you merely open your mouth to make noises, that’s called howling; when you squeeze out some tears, that’s weeping. When you mourn with both tears and feelings, then we may call that wailing.” “I’ll give you an example of how I can wail!” said Eight Rules, who pulled out a scrap of paper from somewhere and rolled it into a thin strip, which he stuck into his nostrils twice. Look at him! After sneezing a few times, tears and snivel all came out and he began to wail, mumbling and muttering protests all the time as if someone in his family had actually died. He bawled lustily, and when his passion rose to a terrific pitch, even the Tang elder was moved to tears. “That’s the sort of grief I want you to show,” said Pilgrim with a laugh, “and you are not permitted to stop. For if you, Idiot, think that you can quit mourning after I leave, you are mistaken, for I can still hear you. You’ll be all right if you keep this up, but the moment I discover that your voice has stopped, your shanks will be given twenty strokes.” “You go!” said Eight Rules, chuckling. “Once I start to mourn, it will take me a couple of days to finish.” When Sha Monk heard how stern Pilgrim’s reprimand of Eight Rules was, he went and lit a few sticks of incense to bring to offer to the dead king. “Fine! Fine! Fine!” said Pilgrim, laughing. “When the whole family shows reverence like that, old Monkey can then exert his efforts.”
Dear Great Sage! At this hour of midnight, he took leave of master and disciples, the three of them; mounting the cloud somersault, he entered at once the South Heaven Gate. Indeed, he did not go before the Treasure Hall of Divine Mists, nor did he ascend to the Big Dipper Palace. Treading on his cloudy luminosity, he went straight to the Griefless Heaven, the Tushita Palace of the Thirty-third Heaven. The moment he walked inside the door, he discovered Laozi sitting in the elixir chamber: in the process of making elixir, he and a few divine youths were tending the fires with plantain fans. When he saw Pilgrim approaching, he immediately instructed the youths with these words: “Take care, each of you. The thief who once stole our elixir is here.” Bowing to him, Pilgrim said with laughter, “Venerable Sir, don’t be so silly! Why take such precaution against me? I don’t do those things anymore!” “Monkey,” said Laozi, “when you caused great disruption in Heaven five hundred years ago, you stole and consumed countless efficacious elixirs of mine. And when we sent the Little Sage Erlang to arrest you and bring you to the Region Above, you were sent to be refined in my elixir brazier for forty-nine days and made me squander who knows how much charcoal. You were lucky to have regained your freedom when you embraced the Buddhist fruit and resolved to accompany the Tang Monk to the Western Heaven to acquire scriptures. But even then, you were still giving me a hard time when I asked you for my treasures after you had subdued the demons some time ago on the Level-Top Mountain. What are you doing here today?” “I didn’t give you a hard time,” said Pilgrim. “Old Monkey at the time gave you back your five treasures without delay. Why are you still so suspicious?” “Why aren’t you on the road then?” asked Laozi. “Why did you sneak into my palace?”