by Unknown
Idiot, however, kept muttering and mumbling to himself. When the two Daoist lads unexpectedly came back to the room to fetch some tea for the Tang Monk, they heard Eight Rules complaining about “not enjoying my ginseng fruit,” and saying that it would be much better if he could have a taste of another one. Hearing this, Clear Breeze grew suspicious and said, “Bright Moon, listen to that monk with the long snout; he said he wanted to eat another ginseng fruit. Before our master’s departure, he told us to be wary of their mischief. Could it be that they have stolen our treasures?” Turning around, Bright Moon said, “Elder Brother, it looks bad, very bad! Why has the golden mallet fallen to the ground? Let’s go into the garden to take a look.” They ran hastily to the back and found the door to the flower garden open. “I closed this door myself,” said Clear Breeze. “Why is it open?” They ran past the flower garden and saw that the door to the vegetable garden was also open. They dashed into the ginseng garden; running up to the tree, they started to count, staring upward. Back and forth they counted, but they could find only twenty-two of the fruits. “You know how to do accounting?” asked Bright Moon. “I do,” said Clear Breeze, “give me the figures!” “There were originally thirty fruits,” said Bright Moon. “When Master opened the garden to the public, he divided two of them for all of us, so that twenty-eight fruits were left. Just now we knocked down two more for the Tang Monk, leaving twenty-six behind. Now we have only twenty-two left. Doesn’t that mean that four are missing? No need for further explanation; they must have been stolen by that bunch of rogues. Let’s go and chide the Tang Monk.”
The two of them went out of the garden gate and came directly back to the main hall. Pointing their fingers at the Tang Monk, they berated him with all kinds of foul and abusive language, accusing him of being a larcenous baldhead and a thievish rat. They went on like this for a long time, until finally the Tang Monk could not endure it any longer. “Divine lads,” he said, “why are you making all this fuss? Be quiet a moment. If you have something to say, say it slowly, but don’t use such nonsensical language.” “Are you deaf?” asked Clear Breeze. “Am I speaking in a barbarian tongue that you can’t understand? You stole and ate our ginseng fruits. Do you now forbid me to say so?” “What is a ginseng fruit like?” asked the Tang Monk. “Like an infant,” said Bright Moon, “as you said when we brought two of them for you to eat just now.” “Amitābha Buddha!” exclaimed the Tang Monk. “I only had to take one look at that thing and I trembled all over! You think I would dare steal one and eat it? Even if I had a case of bulimia, I would not dare indulge in such thievery. Don’t blame the wrong person.” “You might not have eaten them,” said Clear Breeze, “but your followers wanted to steal them and eat them.” “Perhaps you are right,” said Tripitaka, “but there’s no need for you to shout. Let me ask them. If they have stolen them, I will ask them to repay you.”
“Repay!” said Bright Moon. “You couldn’t buy these fruits even if you had the money!”
“If they can’t buy them with money,” said Tripitaka, “they can at least offer you an apology, for as the proverb says, ‘Righteousness is worth a thousand pieces of gold.’ That should be sufficient. Moreover, we are still not sure whether it is my disciples who took your fruits.” “What do you mean, not sure?” said Bright Moon. “They were arguing among themselves, saying something about the portions not being equally divided.”
“Disciples,” cried Tripitaka, “come, all of you.” When Sha Monk heard this, he said, “It’s terrible! We’ve been discovered! Old master is calling us, and the Daoist lads are making all this racket. They must have found out!” “It is extremely embarrassing!” said Pilgrim. “This is just a matter of food and drink. But if we say so, that means we are stealing for our mouths! Let’s not admit it.” “Yes! Yes!” said Eight Rules. “Let’s deny it!” The three of them had no choice, however, but to leave the kitchen for the main hall. Alas, we do not know how they would be able to deny the charges; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
TWENTY-FIVE
The Zhenyuan Immortal gives chase to catch the scripture monk;
Pilgrim Sun greatly disturbs Five Villages Abbey.
We were telling you about the three brothers, who went to the main hall and said to their master, “The rice is almost done. Why did you call us?” “Disciples,” said Tripitaka, “I didn’t want to ask you about the rice. They have something called the ginseng fruit in this Abbey, which looks like a newborn infant. Which one of you stole it and ate it?” “Honestly,” said Eight Rules, “I don’t know anything about it, and I haven’t seen it.” “It’s the one who is laughing! It’s the one who is laughing!” said Clear Breeze. “I was born with a laughing face!” snapped Pilgrim. “Don’t think because you have lost some kind of a fruit that you can keep me from laughing!” “Disciple, don’t get angry,” said Tripitaka. “Those of us who have left the family should not lie, nor should we enjoy stolen food. If you have in truth eaten it, you owe them an apology. Why deny it so vehemently?” When Pilgrim perceived how reasonable this advice of his master was, he said truthfully, “Master, it’s not my fault. It was Eight Rules who overheard those two Daoist lads eating some sort of ginseng fruit. He wanted to try one to see how it tasted and told me to knock down three of the fruits; each of us brothers had one. It’s true that we have eaten them. What’s to be done about that?” “He stole four of the fruits,” said Bright Moon, “and still this monk could claim that he’s not a thief!” “Amitābha Buddha!” said Eight Rules. “If you stole four of them, why did you only bring out three for us to divide among ourselves? Didn’t you skim something off the top already?” So saying, Idiot began to make a fuss again.
When the immortal lads found out the truth, they became even more abusive in their language; the Great Sage became so enraged that he ground his steel-like teeth audibly and opened wide his fiery eyes. He gripped his golden-hooped rod again and again, struggling to restrain himself and saying to himself, “These malicious youths! They certainly know how to give people a lashing with their tongues! All right, so I have to take such abuse from them. Let me offer them in return ‘a plan for eliminating posterity,’ and none of them will have any more fruit to eat!” Dear Pilgrim! He pulled off a strand of hair behind his head and blew on it with his magic breath, crying “Change!” It changed at once into a specious Pilgrim, standing by the Tang Monk, Wujing, and Wuneng to receive the scolding from the Daoist lads. His true spirit rose into the clouds, and with one leap he arrived at the ginseng garden. Whipping out his golden-hooped rod, he gave the tree a terrific blow, after which he used that mountain-moving divine strength of his to give it a mighty shove. Alas,
Leaves fell, limbs cracked, and roots became exposed;
The Daoists lost their grass of reverted cinnabar.
After the Great Sage had pushed down the tree, he tried to look for the fruits on the branches but he could not find even half a fruit. The treasure, you see, would fall when it met with gold, and both ends of his rod were wrapped in gold. Moreover, iron is also one of the five metallic elements. The blow of the rod, therefore, shook loose all the fruits from the tree, and when they fell, they became assimilated to the earth once they touched the ground, so that there was not a single fruit left on the tree. “Fine! Fine!” he said. “Now all of us can scram!” He put away his iron rod and went back to the front. With a shake of his body he retrieved his hair, but the rest of the people, like those of fleshly eyes and mortal stock, could not perceive what had taken place.
We now tell you about the two immortal lads, who ranted at the pilgrims for a long time. Clear Breeze said, “Bright Moon, these monks do take our reproach quite well. We have been upbraiding them as if they were chickens all this time, but not once have they even attempted to answer us. Could it be that they really did not steal the fruits? With the tree so tall and the leaves so dense, we could have made a mistake in our tallying, and we might have chided them unjustly. We should go and investigate furth
er.” “You are right,” said Bright Moon, and the two of them accordingly went back to the garden. But what they saw was only a tree on the ground with broken boughs and fallen leaves, without so much as a single fruit on it. Clear Breeze was so aghast that his legs gave way and he fell to the ground; Bright Moon shook so violently that he could hardly stand up. Both of them were scared out of their wits! We have, as testimony, this poem:
Tripitaka went westward to the Long Life Mount;
Wukong cut down the grass of reverted cinnabar.
Boughs broken and leaves fallen, the divine root exposed:
Clear Breeze and Bright Moon were horrified!
The two of them lay on the ground, hardly able to speak coherently. They could only blurt out, “What shall we do? What shall we do? The magic root of our Five Villages Abbey is severed! The seed of this divine house of ours is cut off! When our master returns, what shall we tell him?” Then Bright Moon said, “Elder Brother, stop hollering! Let’s pull ourselves together and not alarm those monks. There’s no one else here; it has to be that fellow with a hairy face and a thundergod beak who used magic unseen to ruin our treasure. If we try to talk to him, he will probably deny it, and further argument may well lead to actual combat. In the event of a fight, how do you suppose the two of us could stand up to the four of them? It would be better if we deceived them now by saying that the fruits were not missing, and that since we made a mistake in our counting, we were offering them our own apology. Their rice is almost cooked. When they eat, we shall even present them with a few side dishes. When each of them is holding a bowl, you stand on the left of the door and I’ll stand on the right, and we’ll slam the door shut together. We’ll lock it and all the other doors of this Abbey too, so that they will not be able to escape. We can then wait for Master to return and let him do with them what he wills. Since the Tang Monk is an old acquaintance of Master, he might decide to forgive them, and that would be his act of kindness. Should he decide not to, however, we have at least managed to catch the thieves, for which we ourselves might be forgiven.” When he heard these words, Clear Breeze said, “You are right! You are right!”
The two of them forced themselves to look cheerful as they walked back to the main hall from the rear garden. Bowing to the Tang Monk, they said, “Master, our coarse and vulgar language just now must have offended you. Please pardon us!” “What are you saying?” asked Tripitaka. “The fruits were not missing,” said Clear Breeze, “but we couldn’t see them clearly because of the dense foliage. We went back again to have a second look and we found the original number.”
Hearing this, Eight Rules chimed in at once. “You lads, you are young and impulsive, quick to condemn before you even know the truth of the matter. You throw out your castigations at random, and you have accused us unjustly. It’s blasphemy!” Pilgrim, however, understood what was going on; though he did not say anything, he thought to himself, “It’s a lie! It’s a lie! The fruits were done with! Why do they say such things? Could it be that they have the magic of revivification?” Meanwhile, Tripitaka said to his disciples, “In that case, bring us some rice. We’ll eat and leave,”
Eight Rules went at once to fetch the rice, while Sha Monk set the table and chairs. The two lads brought out seven or eight side dishes, including pickles, pickled eggplants, radishes in wine sauce, string beans in vinegar, salted lotus roots, and blanched mustard plants for master and disciples to eat with their rice. They also brought out a pot of fine tea and two mugs, and stood on either side of the table to wait on them. As soon as the four of them had taken up their bowls, however, the lads, one on each side, took hold of the door and slammed it tightly shut. They then bolted it with a double-shackle brass lock. “You lads made a mistake,” said Eight Rules with a laugh, “or else your custom here is rather strange. Why do you shut the door before you eat?” “Indeed!” said Bright Moon. “For good or ill, we will not open the door until after we have eaten.” Then Clear Breeze lashed out at them, saying, “You bulimic and gluttonous bald thieves! You stole and ate our divine fruits, and you were thus already guilty of eating the produce of someone’s garden without permission. Now you have even knocked over our divine tree and destroyed this immortal root of our of Five Villages Abbey. And you still dare to speak to us defiantly? If you think you can reach the Western Heaven to behold the face of Buddha, you will have to ride the Wheel of Transmigration and do it in the next incarnation!” When Tripitaka heard these words, he threw down his rice bowl and sat there weighed down as if by a huge boulder on his heart. The lads then went to lock both the front gate and the second gate before returning to the main hall to revile them once more with the most abusive language. Calling them thieves again and again, the two lads assailed them until it was late, when they then left to eat. After the meal, the lads went back to their own room.
The Tang Monk began to complain at Pilgrim, saying, “You mischievous ape! Every time it’s you who cause trouble! If you stole and ate their fruits, you should have been more forbearing to their reproach. Why did you have to knock down even their tree? If you were brought into court, even if your old man were the judge, you would not be able to defend yourself when you behave like that!” “Don’t scold me, Master,” said Pilgrim. “If those lads have gone to sleep, let them sleep. We’ll leave tonight.” “Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk, “all the doors have been locked securely. How can we leave?” Pilgrim said with a laugh, “Never mind! Never mind! Old Monkey will find a way!” “You have a way, all right!” said Eight Rules. “All you need to do is to change into some sort of an insect, and you can fly out through a hole or a crack in the window. But what about those of us who don’t know how to change into these tiny things? We have to stay and take the blame for you.” “If he does something like that,” said the Tang Monk, “and leaves us behind, I’ll recite that Old-Time Sūtra and see whether he can take it!” When he heard this, Eight Rules did not know whether to laugh or not. “Master,” he said, “what are you saying? I have only heard the Sŭraṅgama Sūtra, the Lotus Sūtra, the Peacock Sūtra, the Guanyin Sūtra, and the Diamond Sūtra in Buddhism, but I have never heard of anything called the Old-Time Sūtra.”
“You don’t know about this, Brother,” said Pilgrim. “This fillet that I wear on my head was given to Master by the Bodhisattva Guanyin. Master deceived me into wearing it, and it took root, as it were, on my head so that it could never be removed. There is, moreover, the Tight-Fillet Spell or the Tight-Fillet Sūtra. The moment he recites that, I’ll have a terrible headache, for it’s the magic trick designed to give me a hard time. Master, don’t recite it. I won’t betray you. No matter what happens, all of us will leave together.”
As they spoke, it grew dark and the moon rose in the East. Pilgrim said, “When all is quiet and the crystal orb is bright, this is the time for us to steal away.” “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “stop this hocus-pocus. The doors are all locked. Where are we going to go?” “Watch my power!” said Pilgrim. He seized his golden-hooped rod and exercised the lock-opening magic; he pointed the rod at the door and all the locks fell down with a loud pop as the several doors immediately sprung open. “What talent!” said Eight Rules, laughing. “Even if a little smith were to use a lock pick, he wouldn’t be able to do this so nimbly.” Pilgrim said, “This door is nothing! Even the South Heaven Gate would immediately fly open if I pointed this at it!” They asked their master to go outside and mount the horse; Eight Rules poled the luggage and Sha Monk led the way toward the West. “Walk slowly, all of you,” said Pilgrim. “Let me go and see to it that the Daoist lads will sleep for a month.” “Disciple,” said Tripitaka, “don’t harm them, or you will be guilty of murder as well as robbery.” “I won’t harm them,” said Pilgrim.
Going inside again, he went to the door of the room where the lads were sleeping. He still had around his waist a few sleep-inducing insects, which he had won from the Devarāja Virūpākṣa when they had played a game of guess-fingers at the East Heaven Gate. Ta
king out two of these insects, he filliped them through a hole in the window. They headed straight for the faces of the lads who fell at once into a sleep so deep that it seemed nothing could arouse them. Then Pilgrim turned around and caught up with the Tang Monk, and all of them fled, following the main road to the West.
Throughout that whole night, the horse did not pause to rest, and they journeyed until it was almost dawn. “Monkey,” said the Tang Monk, “you have just about killed me! Because of your mouth, I’ve had to spend a sleepless night.” “Stop this complaining!” said Pilgrim. “It’s dawn now, and you may as well take some rest in the forest here by the road. After you have regained a little strength, we’ll move on.” All that elder could do was to dismount and use a pine root as his couch. As soon as he put down the luggage, Sha Monk dozed off, while Eight Rules fell asleep with a rock as his pillow. The Great Sage Sun, however, had other interests. Just look at him! Climbing the trees and leaping from branch to branch, he had a grand time playing. We shall leave them resting and make no further mention of them now.
We now tell you about the Great Immortal, who left the Tushita Palace with the lesser immortals after the lecture was over. Descending from the Green Jasper Heaven and dropping down from the auspicious clouds, they arrived before the Five Villages Abbey at the Long Life Mountain, where they found the gates wide open and the grounds neat and clean. “Well,” said the Great Immortal, “Clear Breeze and Bright Moon are not that useless after all! Ordinarily, they don’t even bestir themselves when the sun is high, but today when we are away, they are willing to rise early to open the gates and sweep the grounds.” All the lesser immortals were delighted, but when they reached the main hall, they discovered neither fire and incense nor any trace of a human person. Clear Breeze and Bright Moon were simply nowhere to be seen!