by Wu Cheng-En
“Where've you seen me?” the old man asked.
“Didn't you gather firewood in front of my face and pick wild vegetables from my cheeks when you were a child?” said Sun Wukong.
“Rubbish,” retorted the old man.
“Where did you live and where did I live when I was supposed to gather firewood and wild vegetables in front of your face?”
“It's you who's talking rubbish, my child,” replied Sun Wukong. “You don't know who I am, but I'm the Great Sage from the stone cell under the Double Boundary Mountain. Take another look and see if you can recognize me now.” The old man at last realized who he was and said, “I suppose you do look a bit like him, but however did you get out?” Sun Wukong told him the whole story of how the Bodhisattva had converted him and told him to wait till the Tang Priest came to take off the seal and release him. The old man went down on his knees and bowed his head, inviting the Tang Priest inside and calling his wife and children to come and meet him; they were all very happy when they heard what had happened.
When they had drunk tea he asked Sun Wukong, “How old are you, Great Sage?”
“How old are you, then?” said Sun Wukong.
“In my senile way I have reached a hundred and thirty.”
“Then you could be my remote descendant,” said Brother Monkey. “I can't remember when I was born, but I spent over five hundred years under that mountain.”
“True, true,” remarked the old man, “I remember my grandfather saying that this mountain fell from heaven to crush a magical monkey, and you weren't able to get out before now. When I saw you in my childhood, grass grew on your head and there was mud on your face, so I wasn't afraid of you. But now that the mud and grass have gone you look thinner, and the tiger-skin round your waist makes you as near a devil as makes no difference.”
This conversation made everyone roar with laughter, and as he was a kind old man he had a vegetarian meal set out. When the meal was over Sanzang asked him his surname.
“Chen,” the old man replied. On hearing this, Sanzang raised his hands in greeting and said, “Venerable benefactor, you are of the same clan as myself.”
“Master,” protested Brother Monkey, “You're called Tang, aren't you, so how can you belong to the same clan as him?”
“My secular surname is Chen, and I am from Juxian Village, Hongnong Prefecture, Haizhou, in the Tang Empire. My Buddhist name is Chen Xuanzang. But as our Great Tang Emperor Taizong called me his younger brother and gave me the surname Tang, I am known as the Tang Priest.” The old fellow was delighted to hear that they shared a surname.
“Chen, old fellow,” said Monkey, “I'm afraid this will be putting your family out, but I haven't washed for over five hundred years, so could you go and boil up some water for me and my master to have a bath before we set out again? Thank you.” The old man gave instructions for water to be boiled and a tub brought, and he lit the lamp.
When master and disciple had bathed they sat down by the lamp, and Brother Monkey asked once more, “Old Chen, there's another thing I'd like to ask you: could you lend me a needle and thread?”
“Yes, of course,” the old man replied, sending his wife to fetch them and then handing them to Monkey. Monkey's sharp eyes had observed his master take off a short white cotton tunic, which he did not put on again, so Monkey grabbed it and put it on himself. Then he took off his tiger skin, joined it up with a pleat, wrapped it round his waist again, tied it with a creeper, went up to his master, and asked, “How would you say these clothes compared with what I was wearing before?”
“Splendid, splendid,” replied Sanzang, “it makes you look quite like a real monk. If you don't mind cast-offs,” he added, “you can go on wearing that tunic.” Sun Wukong chanted a “na-a-aw” of obedience and thanked him, then went off to find some hay for the horse. When all the jobs were finished, master and disciple went to bed.
Early the next morning Sun Wukong woke up and asked his master to set out. Sanzang dressed and told Monkey to pack the bedding and the rest of the luggage. They were just on the point of leaving when the old man appeared. He had prepared hot water for washing as well as breakfast. After breakfast they set out, Sanzang riding the horse and Brother Monkey leading. They ate when they were hungry and drank when they were thirsty, travelling by day and resting by night. Thus they went on until they realized it was early winter.
When the frost destroys the red leaves the woods are sparse;
On the ridge only pine and cypress flourish.
The unopened plum buds exhale a dark perfume,
Warming the short days,
A touch of spring.
When the chrysanthemum and lotus is finished, the wild tea blossoms.
By the cold bridge and the ancient trees the birds quarrel for branches.
In the twisting gully the waters of the spring run low,
Pale snow clouds drift across the sky.
The North wind blows strong,
Tugging at your-sleeves:
Who can bear the cold towards evening?
When master and disciple had been travelling for a long time they heard a whistle from beside the path, and six men rushed out with spears, swords, cutlasses, and strongbows.
“Where do you think you're going, monk?” they roared. “If you give us your horse and luggage we'll spare your life.” Sanzang fell from his horse, scared out of his wits and unable to utter a word. Brother Monkey helped him to his feet and said, “Don't worry, master, it's nothing serious. They're come to bring us some clothes and our travelling expenses.”
“Are you deaf, Wukong?” the other asked. “They told us to give them our horse and luggage, so how can you ask them for clothes and money?”
“You look after the clothes, the luggage and the horse while I go and have a bash at them. We'll see what happens.”
“A good hand is no match for two fists,” said Sanzang, “and a pair of fists is no match for four hands. They are six big men against little you, all by yourself. You can't possibly have the nerve to fight them.”
The brave Brother Monkey did not stop to argue. Instead he stepped forward, folded his arms across his chest, bowed to the six bandits and said, “Why are you gentlemen obstructing our way?”
“We are mighty robber kings, benevolent lords of the mountain. We have been very famous for a long time, although you don't seem to have heard of us. If you abandon your things at once, we'll let you go on your way; but if there's even a hint of a 'no' from you, we'll turn your flesh into mincemeat and your bones into powder.”
“I too am a hereditary robber king, and have ruled a mountain for many years, but I've never heard of you gentlemen.”
“Since you don't know our names, I'll tell them to you: Eye-seeing Happiness, Ear-hearing Anger, Nose-smelling Love, Tongue-tasting Thought, Mind-born Desire, and Body-based Sorrow.” Sun Wukong laughed at them. “You're just a bunch of small-time crooks. You can't see that I'm your lord and master although I'm a monk, and you have the effrontery to get in our way. Bring out all the jewels you've stolen, and the seven of us can share them out equally. I'll let you off with that.”
This made the bandits happy, angry, loving, thoughtful, desirous, and sorrowful respectively, and they all charged him, yelling, “You've got a nerve, monk. You've got nothing to put in the kitty, but you want to share our stuff.” Waving their spears and swords they rushed him, hacking wildly at his face. Seventy or eighty blows crashed down on him, but he simply stood in the middle of them, ignoring everything.
“What a monk!” the bandits said. “He's a real tough nut.”
“I think we've seen enough of that,” said Brother Monkey with a smile. “Your hands must be tired after all that bashing. Now it's my turn to bring out my needle for a bit of fun.”
“This monk must have been an acupuncturist,” said the bandits. “There's nothing wrong with us. Why is he talking about needles?”
Taking the embroidery needle from his ear, Brother Monkey shook i
t in the wind, at which it became an iron cudgel as thick as a ricebowl. With this in his hand he said, “Stick around while I try my cudgel out.” The terrified bandits tried to flee in all directions, but Monkey raced after them, caught them all up, and killed every one of them. Then he stripped the clothes off them, took their money, and went back with his face wreathed in smiles.
“Let's go, master; I've wiped those bandits out,” he said.
“Even though they were highwaymen, you're really asking for trouble,” Sanzang replied. “Even if they had been arrested and handed over to the authorities, they wouldn't have been sentenced to death. You may know a few tricks, but it would be better if you'd simply driven them away. Why did you have to kill them all? Even taking a man's life by accident is enough to stop someone from becoming a monk. A person who enters the religious life
Spares the ants when he sweeps the floor,
Covers the lamps to save the moth.
What business did you have to slaughter the lot of them, without caring which of them were the guilty and which were innocent? You haven't a shred of compassion or goodness in you. This time it happened in the wilds, where nobody will be able to trace the crime. Say someone offended you in a city and you turned murderous there. Say you killed and wounded people when you went berserk with that club of yours. I myself would be involved even though I'm quite innocent.”
“But if I hadn't killed them, they'd have killed you, master,” protested Sun Wukong.
“I am a man of religion, and I would rather die than commit murder,” said Sanzang. “If I'd died, there'd only have been me dead, but you killed six of them, which was an absolute outrage. If the case were taken to court, you couldn't talk your way out of this even if the judge were your own father.”
“To tell you the truth, master, I don't know how many people I killed when I was the monster who ruled the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit,” said Sun Wukong, “but if I'd acted your way I'd never have become the Great Sage Equaling Heaven.”
“It was precisely because you acted with such tyrannical cruelty among mortals and committed the most desperate crimes against Heaven that you got into trouble five hundred years ago,” retorted Sanzang. “But now you have entered the faith, you'll never reach the Western Heaven and never become a monk if you don't give up your taste for murder. You're too evil, too evil.”
Monkey, who had never let himself be put upon, flared up at Sanzang's endless nagging.
“If you say that I'll never become a monk and won't ever reach the Western Heaven, then stop going on at me like that. I'm going back.”
Before Sanzang could reply, Monkey leapt up in a fury, shouting, “I'm off.” Sanzang looked up quickly, but he was already out of sight. All that could be heard was a whistling sound coming from the East. Left on his own, the Priest nodded and sighed to himself with great sadness and indignation.
“The incorrigible wretch,” he reflected. “Fancy disappearing and going back home like that just because I gave him a bit of a telling-off. So that's that. I must be fated to have no disciples or followers. I couldn't find him now even if I wanted to, and he wouldn't answer if I called him. I must be on my way.” So he had to strive with all his might to reach the West, looking after himself with nobody to help.
Sanzang had no choice but to gather up the luggage and tie it on the horse. He did not ride now. Instead, holding his monastic staff in one hand and leading the horse by the reins with the other, he made his lonely way to the West. Before he had been travelling for long he saw an old woman on the mountain path in front of him. She was holding an embroidered robe, and a patterned hat was resting upon it. As she came towards him he hurriedly pulled the horse to the side of the path to make room for her to pass.
“Where are you from, venerable monk,” the old woman asked, “travelling all alone and by yourself?”
“I have been sent by the great King of the East to go to the West to visit the Buddha and ask him for the True Scriptures,” he replied.
“The Buddha of the West lives in the Great Thunder Monastery in the land of India, thirty-six thousand miles away from here. You'll never get there, just you and your horse, without a companion or disciple.”
“I did have a disciple, but his nature was so evil that he would not accept a little reproof I administered to him and disappeared into the blue,” said Sanzang.
“I have here an embroidered tunic and a hat inset with golden patterns that used to be my son's,” the woman said, “but he died after being a monk for only three days. I've just been to his monastery to mourn him and say farewell to his master, and I was taking this tunic and this hat home to remember the boy by. But as you have a disciple, venerable monk, I'll give them to you.”
“Thank you very much for your great generosity, but as my disciple has already gone, I couldn't accept them.”
“Where has he gone?”
“All I heard was a whistling sound as he went back to the East.”
“My home isn't far to the East from here,” she said, “so I expect he's gone there. I've also got a spell called True Words to Calm the Mind, or the Band-tightening Spell. You must learn it in secret, and be sure to keep it to yourself. Never leak it to anyone. I'll go and catch up with him and send him back to you, and you can give him that tunic and hat to wear. If he's disobedient again, all you have to do is recite the spell quietly. That will stop him committing any more murders or running away again.”
Sanzang bowed low to thank her, at which she changed into a beam of golden light and returned to the East. He realized in his heart that it must have been the Bodhisattva Guanyin who had given him the spell, so he took a pinch of earth as if he were burning incense and bowed in worship to the East most reverently. Then he put the tunic and hat in his pack, sat down beside the path, and recited the True Words to Calm the Mind over and over again until he knew them thoroughly, and had committed them to his memory.
Let us turn to Sun Wukong, who after leaving his master went straight back to the Eastern Ocean on his somersault cloud. Putting his cloud away, he parted the waters and went straight to the undersea palace of crystal. His approach had alarmed the dragon king, who came out to welcome him and took him into the palace, where they sat down.
When they had exchanged courtesies the dragon king said, “I'm sorry that I failed to come and congratulate you on the end of your sufferings, Great Sage. I take it that you are returning to your old cave to put your immortal mountain back in order.”
“That's what I wanted to do,” Monkey replied. “But I've become a monk instead.”
“A monk? How?” the dragon king asked.
“The Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea converted me. She taught me to work for a good reward later by going to the West with the Tang Priest from the East, visiting the Buddha, and becoming a monk. And my name has been changed to Brother Monkey.”
“Congratulations, congratulations,” said the dragon king. “You've turned over a new leaf and decided to be good. But in that case why have you come back to the East instead of going West?” Monkey laughed.
“Because that Tang Priest doesn't understand human nature. He started nagging away at me about a few small-time highwaymen I killed, and said that everything about me was wrong. You know how I can't stand people going on at me, so I left him to come home to my mountain. I looked in on you first to ask for a cup of tea.”
“Delighted to oblige,” said the dragon king, and his dragon sons and grandsons came in with some fragrant tea which they presented to Monkey.
When he had drunk his tea, Monkey looked round and saw a picture called, “Presenting the Shoe at the Yi Bridge” hanging on the wall behind him.
“What's that a view of?” asked Monkey.
“You wouldn't know about it because it happened after your time,” the dragon king replied. “It's called 'Presenting the Shoe Three Times at the Yi Bridge.'”
“What's all that about?” Monkey asked.
“The Immortal is Lord Yellow Stone, a
nd the boy is Zhang Liang, who lived in Han times,” the dragon king replied. “Lord Yellow Stone was sitting on the bridge when suddenly he dropped one of his shoes under it and told Zhang Liang to fetch it for him. The boy Zhang Liang did so at once, and knelt down to present it to him. Lord Yellow Stone did this three times, and because Zhang Liang never showed a trace of arrogance or disrespect, Lord Yellow Stone was touched by his diligence. One night he gave Zhang Liang some heavenly books and told him to support the Han cause. Later he won victories hundreds of miles away through his calculations within the walls of his tent. When peace came he resigned his office and went back to roam on his mountain with Master Red Pine and achieve the Way of Immortality through enlightenment. Great Sage, if you don't protect the Tang Priest with all your might, and if you reject his instruction, then you might as well stop trying to win yourself a good later reward, because it will mean you're only an evil Immoral after all.” Monkey hummed and hawed, but said nothing.
“Great Sage,” said the dragon king, “you must make your mind up. Don't ruin your future for the sake of any easy life now.”
“Enough said. I'll go back and look after him,” replied Sun Wukong. The dragon king was delighted.
“In that case I shan't keep you. I ask you in your mercy not to leave your master waiting for long.” Being thus pressed to go, Monkey left the sea palace, mounted his cloud, and took leave of the dragon king.
On his way he met the Bodhisattva Guanyin. “What are you doing here, Sun Wukong?” she asked. “Why did you reject the Tang Priest's teaching and stop protecting him?” Brother Monkey frantically bowed to her from his cloud and replied, “As you had predicted, Bodhisattva, a monk came from the Tang Empire who took off the seal, rescued me, and made me his disciple. I ran away from him because he thought I was wicked and incorrigible, but now I'm going back to protect him.”