by Unknown
This sumptuous spread had the undivided attention of Eight Rules, who said to Sha Monk, “Brother, let yourself go and eat! When we leave the Kou home, there’ll be no more rich fare like this!”
“What are you saying, Second Elder Brother!” said Sha Monk, chuckling. “As the proverb puts the matter
The hundred flavors of rare dainties
Are no more once you’ve eaten your fill.
You may accumulate private savings
But not in your stomach private hoardings!”
“You’re much too feeble! Too feeble!” replied Eight Rules. “When I have eaten to the limits in one meal, I won’t be hungry again even after three days!”
Hearing him, Pilgrim said, “Idiot, don’t puncture your belly! We have to be on the road!”
Hardly had they finished speaking when it was almost noon. The elder, in his seat of honor, lifted his chopsticks to recite the Sūtra for the End of Maigre. So alarmed was Eight Rules that he took up the rice, downed one bowl with a gulp, and put away five or six more bowls. Next he picked up those buns, rolls, cakes, and baked goods and stuffed both his sleeves full of them, regardless of whether they were good or bad. Only then did he leave the table, following his master. Having thanked the squire and the other guests, the elder walked out of the door, encountering many colorful banners and treasure canopies, drummers and musicians, on the other side. The two bands of Daoist priests and Buddhist monks were just arriving.
With a smile the squire said to them, “All of you are late, and the old master is eager to leave. There is no time for me to present you with the maigre. Allow me to thank you when we come back.” Those pulling the carriages, riding horses, or walking all stepped aside for the four pilgrims to proceed. As they went forward, loud strains of music and the roll of drums drifted skyward while banners and flags blotted out the sun. The whole place was clogged by people, chariots, and horses, as everyone came to see Squire Kou sending off the Tang Monk. The wealth and riches so displayed
Surpassed the enclosures of pearl and jade,
And rivaled those silken drapes of love.
Those monks played a Buddhist tune, after which the priests struck up a Taoist melody, as they all escorted the pilgrims out of the prefectural city. When they reached the tenth-mile wayside station, food and drink were served, and they toasted each other once more as they bade farewell. The squire, however, still could not bear to part with his guests.
Blinking back his tears, he said, “When the Venerable Master returns after acquiring the scriptures, he must come to our house to stay for a few days. That’ll be the fulfillment of Kou Hong’s wish.”
Deeply moved, Tripitaka thanked him repeatedly, saying, “If I reach the Spirit Mountain and get to see the Buddhist Patriarch, your great virtue will be the first to be told. On my return, I shall surely stop at your door to express my thanks!” Speaking in this manner, they went on for two or three more miles. The elder earnestly bowed to take leave of his host, and the squire had to turn back, wailing loudly. Truly
Vowing to feed monks, he’d return to wondrous knowledge;
But with no affinity he could not see Tathāgata.
We shall speak no more of Squire Kou, who escorted the pilgrims to the tenth-mile wayside station and then returned with his other companions to his house. We tell you instead about the master and his three disciples, who journeyed for some forty or fifty miles, when the sky darkened. “It’s getting late,” said the elder. “Where shall we ask for lodging?”
Toting the luggage, Eight Rules pouted and said, “There’s ready-made rice, but you won’t eat it! There’s a house built with cool tiles but you won’t live in it! All you want is to hurry on some journey, like a lost soul going to a funeral! Now it’s getting late. If it rains, what are we going to do then?”
“You brazen cursed beast!” scolded the Tang Monk. “You’re complaining again! As the proverb says,
Chang’an may be fine,
But it’s no place to linger in.
Wait till we reach the affinity of seeing the Buddhist Patriarch and acquire the true scriptures. When we return to the Great Tang and report to our lord, we will let you eat the rice from the imperial kitchen for several years. I hope, you cursed beast, you’ll become so bloated that you’ll die and become an overstuffed ghost!” Our Idiot giggled silently and dared not utter another word.
Pilgrim peered into the distance and discovered several buildings by the main road. He said quickly to his master, “Let’s rest over there! Let’s rest over there!” The elder drew near and saw that it was a shrine which had collapsed. On top of the shrine was an old plaque, on which there was an inscription written in four dust-covered, faded words: Bright Light Travel Court.
Dismounting, the elder said, “The Bodhisattva Bright Light was the disciple of the Buddha of Flames and Five Lights. Because of his expedition against the Demon King of Poisonous Fire, he was demoted and changed into the Spirit Officer of Five Manifestations. They must have a shrine keeper here.” They all went inside, but they discovered that both rooms and corridors had toppled and there was no sign of any human person. They would have turned and gone back out were it not for the fact that dark clouds suddenly had gathered above and a torrential rain descended. They had little choice but to find whatever shelter they could in that dilapidated building and remain there in stealthy silence, fearing that they might otherwise disturb some monstrous deviates. Either sitting or standing, they endured a sleepless night. Ah! Truly
Prosperity’s end breeds negativity;
In pleasure you’d meet, too, calamity.
We do not know what was their condition when they proceeded in the morning; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
NINETY-SEVEN
Gold-dispensing external aid1 meets demonic harm;
The sage reveals his soul to bring restoration.
Let us not speak for the moment of the Tang Monk and his disciples, who spent a night of discomfort in the dilapidated shrine of Bright Light to seek shelter from the rain. We tell you now instead about a group of violent men in the city located at the Numinous Earth District of the Bronze Estrade Prefecture, who had squandered away their possessions through sleeping with prostitutes, drinking, and gambling. Without any other means of livelihood, those men—more than a dozen of them—banded together to become thieves. As they deliberated on which family in the city might be considered the richest and which the second richest for them to rob, one of them said, “There’s no need for investigation or calculation. There’s only one man here who is very rich, and he’s that Squire Kou who sent off today the priest from the Tang court. In this rainstorm tonight, people won’t be out in the streets, and the police won’t make their rounds. We should strike now and take some capital from him. Then we can go and have some more fun, whoring and gambling. Won’t that be nice?”
Delighted, the thieves all agreed. Taking up daggers, caltrops, staffs, clubs, ropes, and torches, they set out in the rain. Having broken through the gates of the Kou home, they rushed in with a shout. The members of his family, young and old, male and female, were so terrified that they all fled. The squire’s wife cowered under their bed, while the old man hid behind a door. Kou Liang, Kou Dong, and his other children all scattered in every direction.
Grasping weapons and torches, the thieves broke open the chests and trunks in the house and ransacked them for gold, silver, treasures, jewels, clothing, utensils, and other household goods. Agonized at parting with all his possessions, the squire risked his life to walk outside his house and plead with the robbers, saying, “Great Kings, please take what you need. But leave this old man a few things and some garments for his remaining years.”
Those robbers, of course, would not permit such discussion. They rushed forward, and one kick at the groin sent Squire Kou tumbling to the ground. Alas!
His three spirits2 gloomily drifted back to Hades;
His seven souls slowly took leave of mankind.
Only when they saw that the thieves had left did the houseboys and servants of the Kou household dare show themselves. They immediately discovered the old squire lying dead on the ground. “O Heavens! Our master has been slain!” they cried, bursting into tears as they fell on the corpse to mourn him.
By about the hour of the fourth watch, the old woman began to think spitefully of the Tang Monk. Because of his refusal to stay and enjoy their hospitality, she thought, they had to make such lavish arrangements to send him off and brought on themselves instead this terrible calamity. Her rancor thus aroused her desire to plot against the four pilgrims. As she leaned on Kou Liang for support, she said, “Child, there’s no need for you to weep anymore. Your old man used to be so eager to feed monks. He wanted to do it one day after another. Little did he know that when he achieved perfection, he would run into a bunch of murderous monks!”
“Mother,” said the two brothers, “what do you mean by murderous monks?”
“When those savage robbers broke into our room,” replied their mother, “I hid under our bed. Though I was shaking all over, I managed to take a good look at them under the glare of torches and lights. Do you know who they were? The one holding a torch was the Tang Monk. Zhu Eight Rules was holding a knife and Sha Monk was dragging out our silver and gold. The one who slew your old man was Pilgrim Sun.”
Thinking that what they heard was the truth, her two sons said, “If mother caught a clear glimpse of them, they had to be the robbers. After all, the four of them spent over half a month here, and they must be completely familiar with the layout of our house—with the entrances, the walls, the casements, and the alleys. Wealth is a big temptation. That’s why they have taken advantage of this night’s rain to return here. Not only have they robbed us of our possessions, but they have also slain our father. How vicious can they be? In the morning we must go to the prefecture to file charges against them.”
“How shall we word the complaint?” asked Kou Dong. “Exactly as mother told us,” replied Kou Liang, and this was what he wrote:
Eight Rules cried for slaughter;
The Tang Monk held the fire.
Sha Monk removed our silver and gold
While Pilgrim Sun beat to death our sire.
The whole family was in uproar, and soon it was dawn. They sent word immediately to their relatives to prepare for the funeral and purchase the coffin. Meanwhile, Kou Liang and his brother went to the prefectural hall to file their plaint. Now, the magistrate of this Bronze Estrade Prefecture, you see, was
Upright all his life,
And his nature, virtuous.
In his youth he had studied studiously
And had been examined at Golden Chimes.
At all times, he had been a patriot,
A man full of mercy and kindness.
His fame would spread in history for a thousand years
As if Gong and Huang3 reappeared;
His name would resound forever in the halls of justice
As if Zhuo and Lu4 were reborn.
After he had ascended the prefectural hall and disposed of routine affairs, he ordered the display of the placard which announced that he was ready to hear and decide cases. The Kou brothers placed the placard in one of their bosoms and entered the hall. Falling to their knees, they cried, “Venerable Father, these little ones wish to file a complaint on the weighty matter of robbery and murder.”
The complaint was handed over to the magistrate, who, having read its content, said, “People said yesterday that your family, by feeding four noble priests, had fulfilled a vow. Those four, we were told, happened to be arhats from the Tang court, and they were sent off by you with a lavish band of drummers and musicians clogging the streets. How could such a thing happen to you last night?”
Kowtowing, the two brothers said, “Venerable Father, Kou Hong, our father, had been feeding monks for some twenty-four years. It happened that these four monks coming from a great distance would just make up the number of ten thousand. That was why we had a ceremony of perfection and asked them to stay for half a month. They thereby became thoroughly acquainted with the layout of our house. After we had sent them off yesterday, however, they returned during the night, taking advantage of the darkness and the rainstorm. With lighted torches and weapons, they broke into our home and took away our silver and gold, our treasures and jewels, and our clothing. Moreover, they slew our father and left him on the ground. We beg the Venerable Father to grant us humble folks justice!”
When the magistrate heard these words, he at once called up both cavalry and foot soldiers. Including other recruits and conscripts, they formed a posse of some hundred and fifty men. Each wielding sharp weapons, they went out of the western gate to pursue the Tang Monk and his three companions.
We tell you now about master and disciples, who waited patiently till dawn in the dilapidated building of the Bright Light Travel Court before emerging and setting out again toward the West. It so happened that those thieves who had robbed the Kou family the night before also took this same road after getting out of the city. By morning they had walked some twenty miles past the shrine. Hiding in a valley, they were dividing up their booty and had not quite finished when they saw the four pilgrims moving up the road.
Still unsatisfied, the thieves pointed at the Tang Monk and said, “Isn’t that the monk who was sent off yesterday?” Then they laughed and said, “Welcome! Welcome! After all we are engaged in this ruthless business! These monks have traveled quite a distance. And then they stayed for a long time in the Kou house. We wonder how much stuff they have on them. We might as well cut them off and take their belongings and the white horse. We’ll split the heist, too. Won’t that be a satisfying thing?”
Picking up their arms, the thieves ran up the main road with a shout. They stood in a single file across the road and cried, “Monks, don’t run away! Quickly give us some toll money, and your lives will be spared! If only half a no escapes from your mouth, each of you will face the cutlass. None will be spared!”
The Tang Monk, riding the horse, shook violently, while Sha Monk and Eight Rules were filled with fear. “What shall we do? What shall we do?” they said to Pilgrim. “After half a night’s misery through the rain, we now face bandits blocking our path. Truly, ‘Calamity always knocks twice!’”
“Master, don’t be afraid!” said Pilgrim with laughter. “And don’t worry, Brothers! Let old Monkey question them a bit.”
Dear Great Sage! Tightening his tigerskin skirt and giving his silk shirt a shake, he walked up there with folded arms and said, “What do you all do?”
“This fellow has no idea of life or death!” bellowed one of the bandits. “How dare you question me? Don’t you have eyes beneath your skull? Can’t you recognize that we’re all Father Great Kings? Hand us the toll money quickly, and we’ll let you through!”
On hearing this, Pilgrim smiled broadly and said, “So you are bandits who pillage on the road!”
“Kill him!” shouted the bandits, turning savage.
Pretending to be frightened, Pilgrim said, “Great Kings! Great Kings! I’m a village priest, and I don’t know how to talk. If I’ve offended you, please pardon me. If you want toll money, you needn’t ask those three. All you need is to ask me for it, for I’m the bookkeeper. Whatever cash we have collected from reciting sūtras or holding services, whatever we’ve acquired through begging or charity, they’re all in the wrap. I’m in charge of all incomes and expenditures. Though he’s my master, the one riding the horse only knows how to recite sūtras. He has no other concern, for he has quite forgotten about wealth or sex, and he doesn’t own a penny. The one with the black face is a laborer I took in halfway in our journey, and he only knows how to care for the horse. The one with a long snout is a long-term la
borer I hired, and all he knows is how to tote the luggage. If you let those three past, I’ll give you all our possessions, including the cassock and the almsbowl.”
When they heard this, the thieves said, “This monk is quite honest after all. Tell those three to drop the luggage, and we’ll let them go by.” Pilgrim turned and winked at his companions. Immediately, Sha Monk dropped the pole and the luggage. He and Eight Rules led the horse and proceeded westward with their master. As Pilgrim lowered his head to untie the luggage, he managed quickly to scoop up a fistful of dirt, which he tossed into the air. Reciting a spell, he exercised the magic of immobilization. “Stop!” he cried, and those bandits—altogether some thirty of them—all stood erect. Each of them with teeth clenched, eyes wide open, and hands lowered, they could neither talk nor move.
Leaping clear from them into the road, Pilgrim shouted, “Master, come back! Come back!”
“That’s bad! Bad!” said Eight Rules, horrified. “Elder Brother is sacrificing us! He has no money on him, and there is neither silver nor gold in the wrap. He must be calling back Master for the horse. And he may be asking us to strip.”
“Second Elder Brother, stop that nonsense!” said Sha Monk, laughing. “Big Brother is an able person. Previously he could subdue even vicious demons and fierce fiends. You think he’s afraid of these few clumsy bandits? When he calls, he must have something to say. Let’s go back quick to have a look.”
The elder agreed; turning around the horse, he went back amiably and said, “Wukong, why do you call me back?”
“All of you see what these bandits have to say,” said Pilgrim. Eight Rules walked up to one of them and gave him a shove, saying, “Bandit, why can’t you move?” That man, however, was completely oblivious and speechless. “He must be numb and dumb!” said Eight Rules. Chuckling, Pilgrim said, “They have been stopped by the magic of Immobilization of old Monkey.” “You might have stopped their bodies, but not their mouths,” said Eight Rules. “Why can’t they make even a noise?”