The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 3 Read online

  “My eldest disciple,” answered Tripitaka, “comes from the Aolai Country in the East Pūrvavideha Continent; the second disciple, from a village in Qoco in the West Aparagodānīya Continent; and the third, from the River of Flowing Sand. All three of them had transgressed the decrees of Heaven. The Bodhisattva Guanshiyin, however, liberated them from their sufferings, as a result of which they were willing to make submission and hold fast the good. So that their merits might atone for their sins, they resolved to accompany me and protect me on my journey to the Western Heaven to acquire scriptures. Since they became my disciples when I was already on my way, their names therefore had not been recorded on the rescript.” “Let me add them on for you, all right?” asked the queen. Tripitaka replied, “Your Majesty may do as you please.” The queen asked at once for brush and ink; after the ink had been rubbed out and the brush nicely soaked in it, she wrote at the end of the rescript declaration the names of Sun Wukong, Zhu Wuneng, and Sha Wujing. Then she took out her imperial seal with which she neatly stamped the rescript before she signed her own name. The document was passed down again to the Great Sage Sun, who gave it to Sha Monk to put into the wrap. Picking up a tray of small pieces of gold and silver, the queen left the dragon couch to hand it to Pilgrim, saying, “Take this, the three of you, as travel money, and may you reach the Western Heaven at an early date. When you return after you have acquired the scriptures, we shall have greater rewards for you.” Pilgrim said, “We are those who have left the family, and we cannot accept gold or silver. There will be places on our way where we may beg for our living.” When the queen saw that he refused, she took out ten bales of silk brocade and said to Pilgrim, “Since you are rushing away, there’s no time for measurement or sewing. Take this and have some clothes made on the way to protect you from the cold.” “Those who have left the family,” said Pilgrim, “are not permitted to wear silk brocade. We have cloth garments to cover our bodies.” When the queen saw that he refused again, she gave this order: “Take three pints of imperial rice, and you can use it for a meal on the road.” When Eight Rules heard the word “meal,” he at once accepted it and put the rice in the wrap. “Brother,” said Pilgrim, “the luggage is getting heavier. You have the strength to pole it?” “You wouldn’t know,” chuckled Eight Rules, “but what’s good about rice is that it’s a product for daily consumption. One meal will finish it off.” They all pressed their palms together to thank the queen.

  Tripitaka said, “Let Your Majesty take the trouble to accompany this poor monk, who will send them off outside the capital. Let me give them a few instructions so that they may leave for the West. I will return and then I can enjoy forever with Your Majesty riches and glory. Only without such burdens or cares can we enter into conjugal bliss.” The queen, of course, did not know that this was a trick, and she asked at once for the imperial cortege. Leaning her fragrant shoulder on Tripitaka, she ascended the phoenix carriage with him and proceeded to the west of the capital. At that time, all the people in the capital lined the streets with containers filled with clean water and urns with the finest incense. Wishing to see the cortege of the queen and the male form of the royal brother were all powdered faces and cloudlike hair; old and young, they crowded into the streets. In a moment, the imperial cortege went out of the capital and stopped before the western gate.

  After putting everything in order, Pilgrim, Eight Rules, and Sha Monk faced the imperial carriage and cried out in unison, “The queen need not go any further. We shall take our leave now.” Descending slowly from the dragon chariot, the elder raised his hands toward the queen and said, “Please go back, Your Majesty, and let this poor monk go to acquire scriptures.” When the queen heard this, she paled with fright and tugged at the Tang Monk. “Royal brother darling,” she cried, “I’m willing to use the wealth of my entire nation to ask you to be my husband. Tomorrow you shall ascend the tall treasure throne to call yourself king, and I am to be your queen. You have even eaten the wedding feast. Why are you changing your mind now?” When Eight Rules heard what she said, he began to act as if he were delirious. Pouting his snout and flapping his ears wildly, he charged up to the carriage, shouting, “How could we monks marry a powdered skeleton like you? Let my master go on his journey!” When the queen saw that hideous face and ugly behavior, she was scared out of her wits and fell back into the carriage. Sha Monk pulled Tripitaka out of the crowd and was just helping him to mount the horse when another girl dashed out from somewhere and shouted, “Royal brother Tang, where are you going? Let’s you and I make some love!” “You stupid hussy!” cried Sha Monk and, whipping out his treasure staff, brought it down hard on the head of the girl. Suddenly calling up a cyclone, the girl carried away the Tang Monk with a loud whoosh and both of them vanished without a trace. Alas! Thus it was that

  Having just left the fair sex net,

  Then the demon of love he met.

  We do not know whether that girl is a human or a fiend, or whether the old master will die or live; let’s listen to the explanation in the next chapter.

  FIFTY-FIVE

  Deviant form makes lustful play for Tripitaka Tang;

  Upright nature safeguards the untainted self.

  We were just telling you of the Great Sage Sun and Zhu Eight Rules, who were about to use magic to render those women immobile when they heard the shouts of Sha Monk and the howl of the wind. They turned quickly to look, only to discover that the Tang Monk had vanished. “Who is it that has abducted Master?” asked Pilgrim, and Sha Monk said, “It’s a girl. She called up a cyclone and whizzed Master away.” When Pilgrim heard this, he leaped straight up to the edge of the clouds; using his hand to shade his eyes, he peered all around and found a roiling mass of wind and dust hurtling toward the northwest. “Brothers,” he shouted to them down below, “mount the clouds quickly to pursue Master with me.” Eight Rules and Sha Monk tied the luggage to the horse, and with a whoosh they all shot up to midair and left.

  Those women of the State of Western Liang, ruler and subjects, were so terrified that they knelt on the ground, all crying, “So these are arhats who can ascend to Heaven in broad daylight!” Then the officials said to the queen, “Let not our ruler be frightened or vexed anymore. The royal brother of Tang has to be a Buddhist monk who has attained the Way. Since none of us possesses true discernment, we could not recognize these Chinese men for what they are and all our schemings have been wasted. Let our mistress ascend the carriage to go back to court.” The queen herself became quite embarrassed, and as she went back to the capital with all her officials, we shall leave them for the moment.

  We tell you instead about the Great Sage Sun with his two brothers, who trod on air and fog to give chase to that cyclone. In a little while, they came upon a tall mountain, where they saw the dust had died down and the wind subsided. Not knowing where the fiend had gone to, the three brothers lowered their clouds and began to search for the way. It was then that they saw on the side of the mountain a huge slab of stone, all shiny and green, that looked like a screen. The three of them led the horse to the back of the screen and discovered two stone doors, on which there was in large letters the following inscription: Toxic Foe Mountain, Cave of the Lute. As he had always been rather stupid, Eight Rules immediately wanted to break down the doors with his rake, but he was quickly stopped by Pilgrim. “Don’t be so hasty, Brother,” he said. “After we followed the cyclone here, we had to search for awhile before we found these doors. We don’t even know the long and short of the matter. Suppose this is the wrong door. Won’t your action offend the owner? I think the two of you should look after the horse and wait in front of that stone screen. Let old Monkey go inside to do some detection before we start anything.” Greatly pleased by what he heard, Sha Monk said, “Very good! This is what I call caution in recklessness, composure in urgency.” So, the two of them led the horse away.

  The Great Sage Sun, meanwhile, displayed his divine power: making the magic sign with his fingers, he recited a spe
ll and with one shake of his body changed into a bee—truly agile and light. Look at him!

  His thin wings go soft with wind;

  His waist in sunlight is trim.

  A mouth once sweetened by flowers;

  A tail that stripe-toads has tamed.

  What merit in honey-making!

  How modest his home-returning!

  A smart plan he now conceives

  To soar past both doors and eaves.

  Crawling inside through a crack in the door, Pilgrim flew past the second-level door and came upon a flower arbor in the middle of which sat a female fiend. Attending her on both sides were several young girls dressed in colored silk and with parted bangs on their foreheads. All of them appeared to be in a most pleasant mood, talking with great animation about something. Ever so lightly our Pilgrim flew up there and alighted on the trellis of the arbor. As he cocked his ear to listen, he saw two other girls with disheveled hair walking up to the arbor, each holding a plate of steaming hot pastries. “Madam,” they said, “on this plate are buns stuffed with human flesh, and on the other buns stuffed with red bean paste.” “Little ones,” said the female fiend with a giggle, “help the royal brother of Tang to come out.” The girls dressed in colored silk went to one of the rear chambers and led the Tang Monk out by his hands. The master’s face, however, had turned yellow and his lips, white; his eyes were red and brimming with tears. “Master has been poisoned!” sighed Pilgrim to himself.

  The fiend walked out of the arbor and extended her dainty, spring-onion-like fingers to catch hold of the elder, saying, “Relax, royal brother! Though our place here is not like the palace of the Western Liang State of Women and cannot compare with their wealth and luxury, it is actually less hectic and more comfortable. You will find it perfect for chanting the name of Buddha and reading scriptures. I’ll be your companion on the Way, and we’ll enjoy a harmonious union until old age.” Tripitaka would not utter a word. “Stop worrying,” said the fiend again. “I know that you didn’t eat much when you attended the banquet in the State of Women. Here are two kinds of flour goods, meat and vegetarian, and you may take whatever you want, just to calm your fear.”

  Tripitaka thought to himself, “I can remain silent and refuse to eat anything, but this fiend is not like the queen. The queen, after all, is a human being whose action is governed by propriety. This fiend is a monster-spirit most capable of hurting me. What shall I do? I wonder if my three disciples know that I am held in custody here. If she does harm me because of my stubborness, wouldn’t I have thrown away my life?” As he questioned his mind with mind like that, he had no alternative but to force himself to open his mouth. “What’s the meat made of and what’s the vegetarian made of?” he asked. The fiend said, “The meat bun has human flesh stuffing, while the vegetarian has red bean paste stuffing.” “This poor monk,” said Tripitaka, “keeps a vegetarian diet.” “Girls,” said the female fiend, giggling, “bring us some hot tea so that the elder of your household can eat the vegetarian buns.”

  One of the girls brought out a cup of fragrant tea and placed it in front of the elder. Picking up a vegetarian bun, the fiend broke it in half and handed the pieces to Tripitaka, who in turn took a meat bun and presented it whole to the fiend. “Royal brother,” asked the fiend, laughing, “why didn’t you break it first before you handed it to me?” Tripitaka pressed his palms together before he replied, “As someone who has left the family, I dare not break open food made with meat.” “If you as someone who has left the family dare not break open food made with meat,” said the fiend, “how is it that you were willing to eat water pudding1 the other day at the Child-and-Mother Stream? Having done that, do you still insist on eating red bean paste stuffing today?” Tripitaka replied:

  “At high tide a boat leaves quickly;

  In sand traps a horse trots slowly.”

  Pilgrim on the trellis heard everything. Fearing that such banter might confound the real nature of his master, he could no longer contain himself. He revealed his true form at once and whipped out his iron rod. “Cursed beast!” he shouted. “You’re so unruly!” When the female fiend saw him, she blew out immediately from her mouth a ray of misty light to cover up the entire arbor. “Little ones,” she cried, “take away the royal brother!” Picking up a steel trident, she leaped out of the arbor and yelled, “Lawless simian rascal! How dare you sneak into my house and play Peeping Tom? Don’t run away! Have a taste of your mama’s trident!” Using the iron rod to parry her blows, the Great Sage fought back as he retreated.

  The two of them fought their way out of the cave. Eight Rules and Sha Monk were waiting in front of the stone screen; when they saw the combatants emerging, Eight Rules hurriedly pulled the white horse out of the way, saying, “Sha Monk, you guard the horse and the luggage. Let old Hog go and help with the fight.” Dear Idiot! Lifting high the rake with both his hands, he rushed forward and shouted, “Elder Brother, stay back! Let me beat up this bitch!” When the fiend saw Eight Rules approaching, she summoned up some more of her abilities. With one snort fire spurted out from her nostrils as smoke licked out from her mouth. She shook her body once and there were now three tridents dancing and thrusting in the air, wielded by who knows how many hands. As she charged like a cyclone into the fray, she was met by Pilgrim and Eight Rules on both sides.

  “Sun Wukong,” cried the fiend, “you really have no judgment! I recognize you, but you can’t recognize me. But even your Buddha Tathāgata at the Thunderclap Monastery is afraid of me. Two clumsy oafs like you, you think you’ll get anywhere! Come on up, both of you, and I’ll give each of you a beating!” “How was this battle?” you ask.

  The female fiend’s power expanded;

  The Monkey King’s vigor increased.

  The Heavenly Reeds Marshal, striving for merit,

  Wielded wildly his rake to show his vim.

  That one with many hands and fast tridents the misty light encircled;

  From these two—impulsive, with strong weapons—foggy air rose up.

  The fiend wished only to seek a mate;

  The monk refused to leak his primal sperm.

  Yin and yang at odds would do battle now,

  Each flaunting its might in this bitter strife.

  Quiet yin, to nourish being, quickened in lust;

  Tranquil yang purged desires to guard its health.

  To these two parties thus came discord;

  A contest was waged by trident, rake, and rod.

  This one’s rod was strong,

  The rake, more potent—

  But the fiend’s trident met them blow for blow.

  Three unyielding ones before Mount Toxic Foe;

  Two ruthless sides outside Cave of the Lute.

  That one was pleased to seize the Tang Monk for her spouse;

  These two with the elder resolved to seek true writ.

  To do battle they stirred up Heaven and Earth

  And fought till sun and moon darkened and planets moved.

  The three of them fought for a long time and no decision was reached. Leaping suddenly into the air, the female fiend resorted to the Horse-Felling Poisoned Stake and, unseen, gave the Great Sage a terrific stab on his head. “Oh, misery!” cried Pilgrim and at once fled in severe pain. When Eight Rules saw that the tide was turning, he too retreated with the rake trailing behind him. The fiend thus retrieved her tridents and returned in triumph.

  Gripping his head, with brows contracted and face woe-laden, Pilgrim kept crying, “Horror! Horror!” Eight Rules went up to him and asked, “Elder Brother, how is it that, when you were just enjoying the fight, you suddenly ran away, whining up a storm?” Pilgrim gripped his head and could only say, “It hurts! It hurts!” “It must be your migraine,” said Sha Monk. “No! No!” cried Pilgrim, jumping up and down. “Elder Brother,” said Eight Rules, “I didn’t see that you were wounded. But now your head hurts. Why?” “Lord, it’s terrible!” said Pilgrim with a groan. “I was just fighting with her. W
hen she saw that I was breaking through her defense with the trident, she suddenly leaped into the air. I don’t know what kind of weapon it was that gave my head a stab, but the pain is unbearable. That was why I fled.”

  “You have always bragged about that head of yours when things were quiet,” said Eight Rules with a laugh, “saying that it has gone through such a long process of cultivation. How is it now that it can’t even take a stab?” “Indeed,” replied Pilgrim. “Since I achieved the art of realized immortality, and since I stole and ate the immortal peaches, celestial wine, and the golden elixir of Laozi, this head of mine cannot be harmed. When I caused great disturbance in Heaven, the Jade Emperor sent the Demon King Powerful and the Twenty-Eight Constellations to take me outside the Dipper Star Palace and have me executed. What those divine warriors used on me were swords, axes, scimitars, bludgeons, thunderbolts, and fire. Thereafter Laozi placed me within his brazier of eight trigrams and smelted me for forty-nine days. But there wasn’t even a scratch on my head. I don’t know what sort of weapon this woman used today, but she certainly wounded old Monkey!”

  “Take away your hands,” said Sha Monk, “and let me see if the skin has been torn.” “No, it hasn’t,” replied Pilgrim.

  “I’ll go to the State of Western Liang and ask for some ointment to tape on you,” said Eight Rules. Pilgrim said, “There’s no swelling, and it’s not an open wound. Why should you want to tape ointment on it?”

  “Brother,” said Eight Rules, chuckling, “I didn’t come down with any pre- or postnatal illness, but you are getting a brain tumor.” “Stop joking, Second Elder Brother,” said Sha Monk. “It’s getting late! Big Brother’s head has been hurt and we don’t know whether Master is dead or alive. What shall we do?”