The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 1 Read online

  Dense rows of bamboo fences;

  Thick clusters of thatched huts.

  Skyscraping wild trees faced the doorways;

  The winding brooklet reflected the houses.

  Willows by the path unfurled their lovely green;

  Fragrant were the flowers blooming in the yard.

  At this time of twilight fast fading,

  The birds chattered every where in the woods.

  As kitchen smoke arose,

  Cattle returned on every lane and path,

  You saw, too, well-fed pigs and chickens sleeping by the house’s edge,

  And the old, sotted neighbor coming with a song.

  After surveying the area, Pilgrim said, “Master, you may proceed. It appears to be a village of good families, where it will be appropriate for us to seek shelter.”

  The priest urged the white horse on, and they arrived at the beginning of a lane heading into the village, where they saw a young man wearing a cotton head-wrap and a blue jacket. He had an umbrella in his hand and a bundle on his back; his trousers were rolled up, and he had on his feet a pair of straw sandals with three loops. He was striding along the street in a resolute manner when Pilgrim grabbed him, saying, “Where are you going? I have a question for you: what is this place?” Struggling to break free, the man protested, “Isn’t there anyone else here in the village? Why must you pick me for your question?” “Patron,” said Pilgrim genially, “don’t get upset. ‘Helping others is in truth helping yourself.’ What’s so bad about your telling me the name of this place? Perhaps I can help you with your problems.” Unable to break out of Pilgrim’s grip, the man was so infuriated that he jumped about wildly. “Jinxed! I’m jinxed!” he cried. “No end to the grievances I have suffered at the hands of my family elders and I still have to run into this baldheaded fellow and suffer such indignity from him!”

  “If you have the ability to pry open my hand,” said Pilgrim, “I’ll let you go.” The man twisted left and right without any success: it was as if he had been clamped tight with a pair of iron tongs. He became so enraged that he threw away his bundle and his umbrella; with both hands, he rained blows and scratches on Pilgrim. With one hand steadying his luggage, Pilgrim held off the man with the other, and no matter how hard the man tried, he could not scratch or even touch Pilgrim at all. The more he fought, the firmer was Pilgrim’s grip, so that the man was utterly exasperated.

  “Wukong,” said Tripitaka, “isn’t someone coming over there? You can ask someone else. Why hang onto him like that? Let the man go.” “Master, you don’t understand,” said Pilgrim, laughing. “If I ask someone else, all the fun will be gone. I have to ask him if, as the saying goes, ‘there’s going to be any business’!” Seeing that it was fruitless to struggle any more, the man said finally, “This place is called the Mr. Gao Village in the territory of the Kingdom of Qoco. Most of the families here in the village are surnamed Gao, and that’s why the village is so called. Now please let me go.” “You are hardly dressed for a stroll in the neighborhood,” said Pilgrim, “so tell me the truth. Where are you going, and what are you doing anyway? Then I’ll let you go.”

  The man had little alternative but to speak the truth. “I’m a member of the family of old Mr. Gao, and my name is Gao Cai. Old Mr. Gao has a daughter, his youngest, in fact, who is twenty years old and not yet betrothed. Three years ago, however, a monster-spirit seized her and kept her as his wife. Having a monster as his son-in-law bothered old Mr. Gao terribly. He said, ‘My daughter having a monster as her spouse can hardly be a lasting arrangement. First, my family’s reputation is ruined, and second, I don’t even have any in-laws with whom we can be friends.’ All that time he wanted to have this marriage annulled, but the monster absolutely refused; he locked the daughter up instead in the rear building and would not permit her to see her family for nearly half a year. The old man, therefore, gave me several taels of silver and told me to find an exorcist to capture the monster. Since then, I have hardly rested my feet; I managed to turn up three or four persons, all worthless monks and impotent Daoists. None of them could subdue the monster. A short while ago I received a severe scolding for my incompetence, and with only half an ounce more of silver as a travel allowance, I was told to find a capable exorcist this time. I didn’t expect to run into you, my unlucky star, and now my journey is delayed. That’s what I meant by the grievances I had suffered in and out of the family, and that’s why I was protesting just now. I didn’t know you had this trick of holding people, which I couldn’t overcome. Now that I have told you the truth, please let me go.”

  “It’s really your luck,” said Pilgrim, “coupled with my vocation: they fit like the numbers four and six when you throw the dice! You needn’t travel far, nor need you waste your money. We are not worthless monks or impotent Daoists, for we really do have some abilities; we are most experienced, in fact, in capturing monsters. As the saying goes, ‘You have now not only a caring physician, but now you have cured your eyes as well!’ Please take the trouble of returning to the head of your family and tell him that we are holy monks sent by the Throne in the Land of the East to go worship Buddha in the Western Heaven and acquire scriptures. We are most capable of seizing monsters and binding fiends.” “Don’t mislead me,” said Gao Cai, “for I’ve had it up to here! If you are deceiving me and really don’t have the ability to take the monster, you will only cause me more grievances.” Pilgrim said, “I guarantee that you won’t be harmed in any way. Lead me to the door of your house.” The man could not think of a better alternative; he picked up his bundle and umbrella and turned to lead master and disciple to the door of his house. “You two elders,” he said, “please rest yourselves for a moment against the hitching posts here. I’ll go in to report to my master.” Only then did Pilgrim release him. Putting down the luggage and dismounting from the horse, master and disciple stood and waited outside the door.

  Gao Cai walked through the main gate and went straight to the main hall in the center, but it just so happened that he ran right into old Mr. Gao. “You thick-skinned beast!” railed Mr. Gao. “Why aren’t you out looking for an exorcist? What are you doing back here?” Putting down his bundle and umbrella, Gao Cai said, “Let me humbly inform my lord. Your servant just reached the end of the street and ran into two monks: one riding a horse and the other hauling a load. They caught hold of me and refused to let go, asking where I was going. At first I absolutely refused to tell them, but they were most insistent and I had no means of freeing myself. It was only then that I gave them a detailed account of my lord’s affairs. The one who was holding me was delighted, saying that he would arrest the monster for us.” “Where did they come from?” asked old Mr. Gao. “He claimed to be a holy monk, the brother of the emperor,” said Gao Cai, “who was sent from the Land of the East to go worship Buddha in the Western Heaven and acquire scriptures.” “If they are monks who have come from such a great distance,” said old Mr. Gao, “they may indeed have some abilities. Where are they now?” “Waiting outside the front door,” said Gao Cai.

  Old Mr. Gao quickly changed his clothes and came out with Gao Cai to extend his welcome, crying, “Your Grace!” When Tripitaka heard this, he turned quickly, and his host was already standing in front of him. That old man had on his head a dark silk wrap; he wore a robe of Sichuan silk brocade in spring-onion white with a dark green sash, and a pair of boots made of rough steer hide. Smiling affably, he addressed them, saying, “Honored Priests, please accept my bow!” Tripitaka returned his greeting, but Pilgrim stood there unmoved. When the old man saw how hideous he looked, he did not bow to him. “Why don’t you say hello to me?” demanded Pilgrim. Somewhat alarmed, the old man said to Gao Cai: “Young man! You have really done me in, haven’t you? There is already an ugly monster in the house that we can’t drive away. Now you have to fetch this thunder-spirit to cause me more troubles!”

  “Old Gao,” said Pilgrim, “it’s in vain that you have reached such old age, for you hav
e hardly any discernment! If you want to judge people by appearances, you are utterly wrong! I, old Monkey, may be ugly, but I have some abilities. I’ll capture the monster for your family, exorcise the fiend, apprehend that son-in-law of yours, and get your daughter back. Will that be good enough? Why all these mutterings about appearances!” When the old man heard this, he trembled with fear, but he managed to pull himself together sufficiently to say, “Please come in!” At this invitation, Pilgrim led the white horse and asked Gao Cai to pick up their luggage so that Tripitaka could go in with them. With no regard for manners, he tethered the horse on one of the pillars and drew up a weather-beaten lacquered chair for his master to be seated. He pulled over another chair and sat down on one side. “This little priest,” said old Mr. Gao, “really knows how to make himself at home!” “If you are willing to keep me here for half a year,” said Pilgrim, “then I’ll truly feel at home!”

  After they were seated, old Mr. Gao asked, “Just now my little one said that you two honored priests came from the Land of the East?” “Yes,” replied Tripitaka. “Your poor monk was commissioned by the court to go to the Western Heaven to seek scriptures for Buddha. Since we have reached your village, we would like to ask for lodging for the night. We plan to leave early tomorrow morning.” “So the two of you wanted lodging?” said old Mr. Gao. “Then why did you say you could catch monsters?” “Since we are asking for a place to stay,” said Pilgrim, “we thought we might as well catch a few monsters, just for fun! May we ask how many monsters there are in your house?” “My God!” exclaimed old Mr. Gao, “How many monsters could we feed? There’s only this one son-in-law, and we have suffered enough from him!” “Tell me everything about the monster,” said Pilgrim, “how he came to this place, what sort of power he has, and so forth. Start from the beginning and don’t leave out any details. Then I can catch him for you.”

  “From ancient times,” said old Mr. Gao, “this village of ours has never had any troubles with ghosts, goblins, or fiends; in fact, my sole misfortune consists of not having a son. I had three daughters born to me: the eldest is named Fragrant Orchid; the second one, Jade Orchid; and the third, Green Orchid. The first two since their youth had been promised to people belonging to this same village, but I had hoped that the youngest would take a husband who would stay with our family and consent to have his children bear our name. Since I have no son, he would in fact become my heir and look after me in my old age. Little did I expect that about three years ago, a fellow would turn up who was passably good-looking. He said that he came from the Fuling Mountain and that his surname was Zhu (Hog). Since he had neither parents nor brothers, he was willing to be taken in as a son-in-law, and I accepted him, thinking that someone with no other family attachment was exactly the right sort of person. When he first came into our family, he was, I must confess, fairly industrious and well-behaved. He worked hard to loosen the earth and plow the fields without even using a buffalo; and when he harvested the grains, he did the reaping without sickle or staff. He came home late in the evening and started early again in the morning, and to tell you the truth, we were quite happy with him. The only trouble was that his appearance began to change.”

  “In what way?” asked Pilgrim. “Well,” said old Mr. Gao, “when he first came, he was a stout, swarthy fellow, but afterwards he turned into an idiot with huge ears and a long snout, with a great tuft of bristles behind his head. His body became horribly coarse and hulking. In short, his whole appearance was that of a hog! And what an enormous appetite! For a single meal, he has to have three to five bushels of rice: a little snack in the morning means over a hundred biscuits or rolls. It’s a good thing he keeps a vegetarian diet; if he liked meat and wine, the property and estate of this old man would be consumed in half a year!” “Perhaps it’s because he’s a good worker,” said Tripitaka, “that he has such a good appetite.” “Even that appetite is a small problem!” said old Mr. Gao. “What is most disturbing is that he likes to come riding the wind and disappears again astride the fog; he kicks up stones and dirt so frequently that my household and my neighbors have not had a moment’s peace. Then he locked up my little girl, Green Orchid, in the back building, and we haven’t seen her for half a year and don’t know whether she’s dead or alive. We are certain now that he is a monster, and that’s why we want to get an exorcist to drive him away.” “There’s nothing difficult about that,” said Pilgrim. “Relax, old man! Tonight I’ll catch him for you, and I’ll demand that he sign a document of annulment and return your daughter. How’s that?” Immensely pleased, old Mr. Gao said, “My taking him in was a small thing, when you consider how he has ruined my good reputation and how many relatives of ours he had alienated! Just catch him for me. Why bother about a document? Please, just get rid of him for me.” Pilgrim said, “It’s simple! When night falls, you’ll see the result!”

  The old man was delighted; he asked at once for tables to be set and a vegetarian feast to be prepared. When they had finished the meal, evening was setting in. The old man asked, “What sort of weapons and how many people do you need? We’d better prepare soon.” “I have my own weapon,” replied Pilgrim. The old man said, “The only thing the two of you have is that priestly staff, hardly something you can use to battle the monster,” whereupon Pilgrim took an embroidery needle out of his ear, held it in his hands, and waving it once in the wind, changed it into a golden-hooped rod with the thickness of a rice bowl. “Look at this rod,” he said to old Mr. Gao. “How does it compare with your weapons? Think it’ll do for the monster?” “Since you have a weapon,” said old Mr. Gao again, “do you need some attendants?” “No need for any attendants,” said Pilgrim. “All I ask for is some decent elderly persons to keep my master company and talk with him, so that I may feel free to leave him for a while. I’ll catch the monster for you and make him promise publicly to leave, so that you will be rid of him for good.” The old man at once asked his houseboy to send for several intimate friends and relatives, who soon arrived. After they were introduced, Pilgrim said, “Master, you may feel quite safe sitting here. Old Monkey is off!”

  Look at him! Lifting high his iron rod, he dragged old Mr. Gao along, saying, “Lead me to the back building where the monster is staying so that I may have a look.” The old man indeed took him to the door of the building in the rear. “Get a key quickly!” said Pilgrim. “Take a look yourself,” said old Mr. Gao. “If I could use a key on this lock, I wouldn’t need you.” Pilgrim laughed and said, “Dear old man! Though you are quite old, you can’t even recognize a joke! I was just teasing you a little, and you took my words literally.” He went forward and touched the lock: it was solidly welded with liquid copper. Annoyed, Pilgrim smashed open the door with one terrific blow of his rod and found it was pitch black inside. “Old Gao,” said Pilgrim, “go give your daughter a call and see if she is there inside.” Summoning up his courage, the old man cried, “Miss Three!” Recognizing her father’s voice, the girl replied faintly, “Papa! I’m over here!” His golden pupils ablaze, Pilgrim peered into the dark shadows. “How does she look?” you ask. You see that

  Her cloudlike hair is unkempt and unbrushed;

  Her jadelike face is grimy and unwashed.

  Though her nature refined is unchanged,

  Her lovely image is weary and wan.

  Her cherry lips seem completely bloodless,

  And her body is both crooked and bent.

  Knitted in sorrow

  The moth-brows2 are pallid;

  Weakened by weight loss,

  The speaking voice is faint.

  She came forward, and when she saw that it was old Mr. Gao, she clutched at him and began to wail.

  “Stop crying! Stop crying!” said Pilgrim. “Let me ask you: where is the monster?” “I don’t know where he has gone,” said the girl. “Nowadays he leaves in the morning and comes back only after nightfall. Surrounded by cloud and fog, he comes and goes without ever letting me know where he is. Since he has learned
that father is trying to drive him away, he takes frequent precautions; that’s why he comes only at night and leaves in the morning.” “No need to talk anymore,” Pilgrim said. “Old Man! Take your beloved daughter to the building in front, and then you can spend all the time you want with her. Old Monkey will be here waiting for him; if the monster doesn’t show up, don’t blame me. But if he comes at all, I’ll pull out the weeds of your troubles by the roots!” With great joy, old Mr. Gao led his daughter to the front building. Exercising his magic might, Pilgrim shook his body and changed at once into the form of that girl, sitting all by herself to wait for the monster. In a little while, a gust of wind swept by, kicking up dust and stones. What a wind!

  At first it was a breeze gentle and light.

  Thereafter it became gusty and strong.

  A light, gentle breeze that could fill the world!

  A strong, gusty wind that nothing else could stop!

  Flowers and willow snapped like shaken hemp;

  Trees and plants were felled like uprooted crops.

  It stirred up streams and seas, cowing ghosts and gods.

  It fractured rocks and mountains, awing Heaven and Earth.

  Flower-nibbling deer lost their homeward trail.

  Fruit-picking monkeys all were gone astray.

  The seven-tiered pagoda crashed on Buddha’s head.

  Flags on eight sides damaged the temple’s top.

  Gold beams and jade pillars were rooted up.

  Like flocks of swallow flew the roofing tiles.

  The boatman lifted his oars to make a vow,

  Eager to have his livestock sacrificed.

  The local spirit abandoned his shrine.

  Dragon kings from four seas made humble bows.

  At sea the ship of yakṣa ran aground,