by Wu Cheng-En
When it blows fierce, the lakes have turbid waves.
The mountain birds grieve, unable to reach their perches;
The fish jump restlessly in the ocean.
Doors and windows blow off the halls,
Spirits and demons glare in the side-rooms.
All the vases in the Buddha hall crash to the ground;
The glass lamp is shaken loose and the flame blows out.
Incense-ash scatters as the burner tilts,
The candles flare when their stand leans over.
All the banners and hangings are torn,
As bell and drum towers are shaken to their roots.
As the wind died down for a while, the elder in his dozy state heard a muffled call of “Master” from outside the meditation hall. He looked up, and in his dream he saw a man standing there soaking wet who was weeping and saying “Master” over and over again.
Sanzang bowed towards him from his seat and said, “You must be a fiend, or a goblin, or an evil spirit or a monster trying to trick me in the middle of the night. But I'm not one given to desire or anger. I'm an upright monk on a pilgrimage to the West at the command of the Tang Emperor of the East to worship the Buddha and fetch the scriptures. I have three disciples who are all demon-quelling, monster-exterminating heroes. If they see you they will smash your body and bones to bits and pulverize you. But I am full of great compassion and will do what is expedient for you. Make yourself scarce this moment and never come into my meditation hall again.”
The person stayed there and replied, “Master, I'm not a demon or a ghost or a fiend or an evil spirit.”
“If you're none of these,” retorted Sanzang, “what are you doing here in the middle of the night?”
“Take a good look at me, Master,” he said. When Sanzang took a really careful look he saw to his surprise that
On his head he wore a heaven-touching hat,
And round his waist a belt of blue-green jade.
Dragons and phoenixes danced on his ochre robe;
His no-worry shoes were embroidered with clouds.
The white jade scepter he held was arrayed with constellations.
His face was like the eternal Emperor of Mount Tai,
His form like Wenchang, god of officialdom.
At the sight of him Sanzang turned pale with shock. He bowed at once and called out at the top of his voice, “Which monarch are you, Your Majesty? Please be seated.” He hurried over to support the monarch, only to find he was holding on to thin air. He looked again and saw that the man was still there.
“Your Majesty,” said Sanzang, “which king are you? What country do you rule? I suppose that you must have fled here in the middle of the night because your country is in chaos or because you are being put upon by malicious ministers. Tell me your story.”
Only then did the man tell what had happened, the tears streaming down his cheeks and his forehead creased with frowns. “Father,” he said, “I live only some fifteen miles to the West of here, in the walled city where my dynasty was founded.”
“What is it called?” Sanzang asked.
“I'm telling you the truth, Father,” he replied. “When I established my regime I changed the name of the state to Wuji.”
“But why is Your Majesty in this terrible distress?” Sanzang continued.
“Father,” the other said, “there was a drought here five years ago so bad that no vegetation grew and the people were dying of starvation. It was appalling.”
Hearing this Sanzang nodded and said with a smile, “Your Majesty, there's an old saying that Heaven favours a well-governed country. I expect that you were not merciful towards your subjects. Even if there is a famine you have no business to flee from your city. Go back, open up your granaries, and give the people relief. Repent of your past sins and be good from now on. Pardon all those who have been wrongly condemned. Heaven's heart will of itself be moved in harmony, and wind and rains will come as they should.”
“But our granaries were empty,” the other said. “We had no money or grain left. The salaries of the officials and the military were in default, and we were eating no meat with our royal meals. We followed the example of Yu the Great when he brought the waters under control, sharing weal and woe with our subjects, taking baths to purify ourself, fasting, burning incense and praying day and night. This went on for three years, but the drought continued to be so bad that the rivers and wells dried up. Just when the crisis was desperate a Quanzhen Taoist wizard came from the Zhongnan Mountains. He could summon wind and rain, and turn stones to gold with a touch. First he went to see our civil and military officials, and then he came to see us. We invited him to come to the altar to pray, and he got results. Wherever he pointed his magic wand there would be a torrential downpour. We thought that three feet of rain would be sufficient, but he said that it would not be enough to restore fertility after so long a time and gave an extra two inches of rain. Seeing how generous he was we kowtowed to him and took him as our sworn brother.”
“Then Your Majesty is extremely fortunate,” said Sanzang.
“In what way?” the other asked.
“If that Quanzhen wizard has the powers to make it rain whenever you like and you can get him to turn things to gold at will, then what is so terrible that you have to flee here from your city?”
“We only ate at the same table and slept in the same room for two years. Then one spring day when the red apricot and the peach tree were in blossom all the gentlemen, ladies and princes went out to enjoy the beauty of the season. After the civil and military officials had returned to their offices and the royal spouses and concubines gone back to their quarters we were strolling hand-in-hand with the wizard in the palace garden. When we reached the eight-sided well with a glazed-tile top he threw something into the well-we don't know what it was-that made it shine with golden light. Luring us to the edge of the well to look at this treasure he had the murderous notion of pushing us in with a splash and placing a flagstone over the top of the well. He piled earth over this then put in a plantain on top of it. So we have already been dead for three years, alas. We are the ghost of one who was wickedly murdered by being pushed down a well.”
On learning that he was a ghost the Tang Priest felt weak all over, and his hairs stood on end. But he had to bring himself to continue his questioning. “Your Majesty, what you say is all wrong. If you have been dead for three years, why didn't the civil and military officials or your queens go looking for you when they attended court for audiences with Your Majesty?”
“Father,” the ghost replied, “his powers are ones rarely seen in the world. As soon as he had killed us he shook himself and turned into an identical likeness of us. Now he is the master of our country, the secret thief of our territory. Our civil and military officials, the four hundred courtiers, the three queens and the consorts and concubines of the six compounds all now belong to him.”
“You are a coward, Your Majesty,” said Sanzang.
“How are we a coward?” the ghost asked.
“Your Majesty,” said Sanzang, “even if the monster has the magic powers to turn into your double and steal your kingdom, undetected by your civil and military officials or by your queens and consorts, so that only you know the truth and you are dead, why have you not brought a case against him in the Underworld court of King Yama? There you could lodge a complaint and complain of the wrongs you have suffered.”
“But his magic powers are so extensive and he is so well in with all the relevant officials,” replied the ghost. “He's always drinking with the city god, and he's connected with all the dragon kings. The Heaven-equaling God of Mount Tai is a friend of his, and all the Ten Kings of the Underworld are his sworn brothers. We have nowhere to turn if we want to bring a case against him.”
“Your Majesty,” said Sanzang, “if you are powerless to bring a case against him in the Underworld then why come to the world of the living?”
“Father,” the other replied,
“as a ghost of a man unjustly killed I would never have dared call upon you. Outside the monastery gates are the Heavenly Kings who Protect the Law, the Six Dings and the Six Jias, the Protectors of the Four Quarters and the Centre, the Four Duty Gods, and the Eighteen Guardians of the Faith, all with their horses saddled up. It was only a magic wind created by the Patroller of the Night that brought me here. He said that my three years of suffering were due to end and sent me to pay my respects to you, Father. He told me that your senior disciple is the Great Sage Equaling Heaven and that he is a very powerful killer of monsters and subduer of demons. I am here tonight to plead with you and beg you to come to my country, capture the evil monster, and expose his wickedness. We will be deeply grateful and repay you, Master, for your great kindness.”
“Your Majesty,” said Sanzang, “Have you come to ask that my disciple should go to rid you of this fiend?”
“Yes, that's right,” the other replied.
“That disciple of mine is good for little else,” said Sanzang, “but subduing demons and capturing monsters is right up his alley. The only thing is, Your Majesty, that even if he's given the job he may not be able to carry it out.”
“Why not?” the ghost asked.
“Well,” said Sanzang, “That fiend must have stupendous magical powers if he can make himself so much like you that all the civil and military officials at court are happy with him and every one of the consorts and concubines in your harem is fond of him. Even though my disciple has some magic powers he should most certainly not resort to arms lightly. If he is captured and charged with high treason we will be thrown into jail. Then everything will be ruined.”
“But I still have someone I can trust at court,” the ghost said.
“That's splendid,” said Sanzang, “quite splendid. No doubt it's a prince or a high official who was sent off to command a garrison somewhere.”
“No,” replied the ghost, “it's my son the crown prince who lives in my own palace.”
“But surely the crown prince must have been banished by that fiend.”
“No, he hasn't been,” the ghost replied. “He spends his time in the throne hall and the Tower of Five Phoenixes studying with learned scholars or sitting beside that wizard on the throne. For the last three years the crown prince has been banned from the queen's palace and prevented from seeing Her Majesty.”
“Why?” Sanzang asked.
“It has all been planned by that fiend,” said the ghost. “If the prince and his mother were to meet and start talking about things the truth would get out. He can only keep that throne if the two of them don't meet.”
“Your troubles, like mine, must have been sent from Heaven,” said Sanzang. “My father was murdered by pirates, one of whom seized my mother. Three months later I was born. I escaped with my life on the river and was rescued by my benefactor, the abbot of the Jinshan Monastery, who brought me up. I remember what it was like to be an orphan child, so I feel very sorry for a crown prince who has lost both his parents. But even though you still have your crown prince in the palace, how ever will I be able to see him?”
“What would stop you?” the ghost asked.
“If he is under such close control from the fiends,” Sanzang replied, “that he can't even see his own mother, how will a mere monk like myself get to see him?”
“He will be going out tomorrow,” said the ghost.
“Why?” Sanzang asked.
“After tomorrow's dawn audience,” said the ghost, “he will lead three thousand people riding out of the city with falcons and hounds to go hunting. You will certainly be able to see him. When you do, tell him everything that I have told you and he'll trust you.”
“But he is only a mortal,” replied Sanzang. “The fiend has him fooled in the palace, and he calls the fiend father several times a day. Why should he believe anything I say?”
“In case he doesn't I'll give you something that will be visible proof,” said the ghost.
“What?” asked Sanzang.
The ghost set down the gold-bordered white jade scepter he was holding and said, “This will be proof.”
“Why?” asked Sanzang.
“When the wizard made himself look just like me,” the ghost replied, “there was one treasure he failed to copy. After he went back to the palace he said that the wizard has stolen it, and for the last three years it has been missing. If the crown prince sees it he will be reminded of me and I shall be able to take my revenge.”
“Very well then,” said Sanzang, “I shall keep it and send my disciple to sort things out for you. Will you wait for the crown prince there?”
“I dare not stay there myself,” said the ghost. “I shall have to ask the Patroller of the Night to send another magic wind to blow me into the palace harem to appear in a dream to my first queen to tell her to co-operate with our son, with you, Father, and with your disciples.”
Sanzang nodded and agreed. “Off you go then.”
The ghost of the murdered monarch kowtowed to take his leave. Sanzang was just stepping forward to see the ghost out when he tripped and went sprawling, giving himself such a fright that he woke up. So it had all been a dream. In the dim lamplight he called, “Disciples!” with alarm.
“What's he going on about 'trifles, trifles' for?” muttered Pig as he woke up. “How happy I used to be in the old days. I was a real tough guy. I lived on nothing but human flesh and I always ate my fill of it. You would have to be a monk and make us protect you on your journey. You told me I'd be a monk, but now you treat me more like your slave. I have to carry your baggage and lead your horse all day, and empty your chamber-pot and lie at the foot of your bed to warm your feet by night. You never let me get any sleep. Why are you calling for me now?”
“Disciple,” said Sanzang, “I had a strange dream when I dozed off with my head on the table just now.”
“Master,” said Monkey, springing to his feet, “dreams come from the imagination. You get frightened of demons before you've even started to climb a mountain. You worry if you will ever reach the Thunder Monastery as it's so far away; and you miss Chang'an and wonder when you'll ever get back there. That's why you're so full of anxieties and dreams. Now I'm sincere and single-minded about going to the West to see the Buddha: no dreams ever come to me.”
“Disciple,” said Sanzang, “this dream of mine was no dream of home. No sooner had I closed my eyes than a great wind blew up and a king appeared outside the doors of the meditation hall. He said he was the monarch of the land of Wuji. He was soaking wet and in floods of tears.” Sanzang was just about to tell Brother Monkey all about the dream and everything he had been told in it.
“No need to tell me any more,” said Monkey. “He came to see you in a dream and was evidently bringing me some business. No doubt some fiend has usurped his throne. I'll have it out with the fiend. I'm sure I'll succeed the moment my cudgel hits him.”
“But he told me that the fiend has tremendous magic powers,” warned Sanzang.
“Tremendous, my eye!” said Monkey. “As soon as he realizes that I've arrived he'll regret having nowhere to flee to.”
“I remember that the king also left me a treasure as proof,” said Sanzang.
“Don't talk such nonsense,” replied Pig. “If you had a dream, that was that. Why all this chitchat?”
“'Don't trust what seems to be straighter than straight, and beware that kindness is not really unkindness,'“ put in Friar Sand. “Let's strike a light, open the doors, and see what we can see.”
So Brother Monkey opened the doors, and when they all looked outside they saw by the light of the moon and the stars that a gold-bordered white jade scepter was indeed lying by the side of the steps.
“What's this, brother?” asked Pig as he went over and picked it up.
“It's a treasure called a jade scepter that a monarch holds in his hands,” said Monkey, “and it makes me believe, Master, that the story's true. I'll take full responsibility for capturing the f
iend tomorrow. But there are three favours I'll want you to do me.”
“This is great,” said Pig, “really great. First you have a dream, then you have to tell him about it. He tricks people at every turn. Now he's asking you for three favours.”
Going back inside, Sanzang asked, “What three favours?”
“Tomorrow I want you to suffer on my behalf, be put upon, and catch a fever,” said Monkey.
“Any one of them would be bad enough,” smirked Pig. “I couldn't possibly take on all three.” Being an intelligent elder, the Tang Priest asked his disciple to explain why he wanted these three things done.
“There'll be no need for explanations,” said Monkey. “Let me first give you a couple of things.”
The splendid Great Sage plucked out a hair, blew a magic breath on it, called “Change!” and turned it into a box of red and gold lacquer into which he placed the white jade scepter. “Master,” he said, “at dawn tomorrow you must put on your golden cassock and sit in the main hall of the monastery reciting scriptures with the box in your hands while I go and give that city the once-over. If he really is an evil spirit I'll kill him, and that will be one more good deed to my credit. If he isn't, then we won't get ourselves into trouble.”
“Excellent, excellent,” said Sanzang.
“If the prince doesn't ride out of the city, that will be that,” said Monkey, “and if he does leave the city as your dream predicted I'll definitely bring him here to see you.”
“If he does come to see me, what shall I say to him?” asked Sanzang. “I'll give you a tip-off just before he comes,” said Monkey. “I want you to open the lid of that box a little while I turn myself into a tiny monk two inches high, then take me into your hands with the scepter. When the prince comes into the monastery he's bound to worship the Buddhas. No matter how much he prostrates himself you are to pay no attention to him whatsoever. At the sight of you sitting there without moving he'll certainly have you arrested. Let him arrest you. Let him have you beaten, tied up or even killed if he likes.”
“Goodness!” exclaimed Sanzang. “With all his military authority he might really have me killed, and that would be terrible.”