The Journey to the West, Revised Edition, Volume 4 Read online

  “To tell you the truth, Your Majesty, the person who came here this morning was my master,” replied Pilgrim, laughing. “He is Tripitaka, the bond-brother of the Tang court, and I’m Sun Wukong, his disciple. I have two other younger brothers—Zhu Wuneng and Sha Wujing—who are now at the Golden Pavilion Postal Station. Because we knew that you believed in the monstrous suggestion and wanted my master’s heart for medical supplement, old Monkey changed into his appearance to come here especially to subdue the fiend.” On hearing this, the king at once commanded one of the chief ministers of the Grand Secretariat to go to the postal station and fetch the master and his disciples.

  By this time our Tripitaka had learned that Pilgrim, who had changed back to his original form, was trying to subdue the fiend in midair. The elder was frightened out of his wits, and it was fortunate that Eight Rules and Sha Monk were by his sides to support him. But he was still depressed by that lump of stinking mud that he had to wear on his face. It was then that he heard someone calling, “Master of the Law, we are the chief ministers of the Grand Secretariat sent by the king of the Bhikṣu state. We are here especially to invite you to court so that you may receive our thanks.”

  “Master, don’t be afraid! Don’t be afraid!” said Eight Rules, grinning. “They are not inviting you so that they can demand your heart. I think Elder Brother must have won, and they want to thank you.” “That may well be the case,” replied Tripitaka, “but how can I face people with this stinking face?”

  “You’ve no choice,” said Eight Rules. “Let’s go see Elder Brother first, and we’ll find a solution.” That elder indeed had little choice but to follow Eight Rules and Sha Monk, who toted the luggage and led the horse out into the courtyard. When the chief minister caught sight of them, he was aghast, crying, “Holy Father! What a bunch of goblins and monsters!” “Minister, please don’t be offended by our ugliness,” said Sha Monk. “We were born this way. But when my master sees my elder brother, he’ll become handsome.”

  When the three of them arrived at court, they did not wait for the summons but walked right up to the hall. The moment Pilgrim saw them, he ran down the steps and pulled the lump of mud from his master’s face. Blowing his immortal breath on him, Pilgrim cried “Change!” and the Tang Monk at once assumed his original form, feeling more energetic and spirited than before. Meanwhile, the king himself descended the steps to meet them, addressing the Tang Monk as “Venerable Buddha, Master of the Law.” After master and disciples had tethered the horse, they all went up to the hall to exchange greetings.

  “Your Majesty,” said Pilgrim, “do you happen to know where that fiend came from? Let old Monkey go there and seize him, so that any evil consequence will be eliminated.” When all those palace ladies and concubines standing behind the kingfisher screens heard Pilgrim speaking of eliminating any evil consequence, they ignored the observance of proper etiquette between men and women and all walked out together to bow to him, saying, “We beg the divine monk, the venerable buddha, to exercise his mighty magic power. Please pull the grass up by the root and exterminate him thoroughly. For this profound act of kindness we shall repay you handsomely.”

  Returning their bows hurriedly, Pilgrim pressed the king for the address of the Daoist. Somewhat abashed, the king spoke up: “When he arrived three years ago, we did question him, and he told us that he lived not too far from here, in Pure Florescence Village on the Willow Slope south of the city some seventy miles away. Though the royal father-in-law was aged, he had no son, only a daughter by his second wife. Having just turned sixteen, she had not been betrothed to anyone, and he was willing to present her as a tribute to us. Since we loved the girl, we accepted her and took her in as a palace consort. Then we were afflicted by illness, which the repeated efforts of the imperial physician could not alleviate. The royal father-in-law told us that he had a divine formula, which required the hearts of young boys to make soup for supplement. It was our folly to have believed in his words so readily. The boys were selected, and the noon hour today, in fact, was to be the appointed time for their hearts to be gouged out. Little did we anticipate that the divine monk would descend to our realm. When we discovered that the boys in the coops had disappeared, he convinced us that the divine monk, who had practiced the cultivation of realized immortality for ten incarnations, had never permitted his original yang to dissipate. If we could acquire his heart, he said, it would be ten thousand times better than the hearts of the little boys. That was the reason for our misguided affront offered to you. We did not know that the divine monk would recognize the fiendish demon. We beseech you to exercise your vast magic power and eliminate all evil consequences, for which we shall thank you with the wealth of a nation.”

  “To tell you the honest truth,” said Pilgrim smiling, “those boys in the coops were hidden by me on the merciful request of my master. Don’t speak of repaying us with any wealth or riches. When I’ve caught the fiend, that’ll be my merit.” He then called out: “Eight Rules, follow me quickly!”

  “I’m glad to obey you, Elder Brother,” replied Eight Rules, “but my stomach’s so empty I can hardly exert myself.” The king immediately asked the Court of Imperial Entertainments to prepare a vegetarian meal, which soon arrived.

  After he had eaten his fill, Eight Rules roused himself and mounted the clouds to rise into the air with Pilgrim. The king, the queens, and all those civil and military officials were so taken aback that they fell to their knees and kowtowed to the sky, all crying, “True immortals, true buddhas have descended to earth!” The Great Sage took Eight Rules straight to a place some seventy miles south of the city, where they stopped the wind and cloud to look for the fiend’s dwelling. All they could see, however, was a clear brook flanked by thousands of willows on both sides, but the Pure Florescence Village was nowhere to be found. Truly

  Acres of wild paddies, an endless sight;

  Banks of misty willows but no human trace.

  After the Great Sage Sun had searched in vain for the fiend, he made the magic sign and recited the immortal word Oṁ, with which he at once summoned into his presence the local spirit. Trembling all over, the deity drew near to kneel down, saying, “Great Sage, the local spirit of Willow Slope kowtows to you.” “Don’t be frightened,” said Pilgrim, “for I’m not going to beat you. I have a question for you instead. This Pure Florescence Village of Willow Slope, where is it?”

  “There is here a Pure Florescence Cave,” replied the local spirit, “but no Pure Florescence Village. This humble deity now perceives that the Great Sage perhaps has come here from the Bhikṣu Kingdom?” “Yes, yes!” said Pilgrim. “The Bhikṣu king had been duped by a monster-spirit, but old Monkey recognized the fiend when I reached the city. When that fiend was defeated by me in battle, he changed into a cold beam of light and vanished. I asked the Bhikṣu king, who told us that he did inquire after the fiend’s residence three years ago when he presented a beautiful girl as tribute. The fiend claimed then that he used to live in the Pure Florescence Village on Willow Slope, some seventy miles south of the city. Just now I searched my way here and all I saw was the slope. Since I didn’t find any village, I thought I would ask you.”

  “May the Great Sage pardon me!” said the local spirit, kowtowing. “Since the Bhikṣu king, after all, is also the lord of this land, it is the proper duty of this humble deity to take note of his plight. But the monster-spirit has vast magic powers; once I betray his secret, he will come and oppress me. That’s why he has not been brought to justice. Now that the Great Sage has arrived, all you need do is to go up to a willow tree with nine branches at the south bank of the brook. Circle around the trunk three times from left to right and then three more times from right to left. Lean on the trunk with both hands and call three times, ‘Open the door.’ The Pure Florescence Cave will appear.”

  On hearing this, the Great Sage dismissed the local spirit before leaping over the brook with Eight Rules to continue their search. Soon they found the t
ree, which had indeed nine stems forking out from a single trunk. Pilgrim gave this instruction to Eight Rules: “Stand still at a distance, and let me call the door open. When I find the fiend and chase him out here, you may back me up.” Eight Rules agreed and stood about a quarter mile away.

  Following the words of the local spirit, our Great Sage circled the trunk three times from left to right and three times right to left; leaning with both hands on the tree, he cried, “Open the door! Open the door! Open the door!” Instantly two leaves of a door opened with a loud creak while the tree vanished entirely from sight. The inside was lit up by bright, luminous mists, but again there was no hint of any human inhabitant. Rousing his magic powers, Pilgrim dashed into the cave, and he discovered a nice place indeed:

  Mist and smoke luminous;

  Oblique rays of the sun and moon;

  White clouds that often leave the cave;

  Green moss that densely coats the yard.

  A pathful of strange blossoms vying for glamour;

  A stepful of rare grasses most luxuriant.

  Warm, temperate air

  Makes perpetual spring.

  The place seems like Langyuan;5

  It’s no worse than Peng and Ying.6

  Long creepers spread o’er smooth benches;

  Tousled vines dangle from a flat bridge.

  Bees, red stamens in their mouths, come to the cave;

  Butterflies, playing with orchids, pass a rock screen.

  With big strides, Pilgrim dashed forward to take a careful look, and he saw four big words etched on the rock screen: Pure Florescence Immortal Residence. Unable to restrain himself, he leaped around the screen to look further, and there he saw the old fiend hugging a beautiful girl to his bosom. Both panting hard, they were in the midst of discussing the affairs of the Bhikṣu Kingdom. “What a marvelous opportunity!” they said together. “Something we’ve been planning for three years, and it would have been completed today. But it’s ruined by that ape-head now!”

  Darting up to them, Pilgrim whipped out his rod and cried, “You bunch of hairy lumps! What marvelous opportunity? Have a taste of my rod!” Abandoning his beauty, the old fiend picked up his coiled-dragon staff hurriedly to meet him. The two of them began another fierce battle in front of the cave that was quite different from the one before.

  The upraised rod beamed golden light;

  The wielded staff belched viciousness.

  The fiend said, “You fool! How dare you barge inside my door?”

  Pilgrim said, “I intend to subdue a fiend!”

  The fiend said, “My tie to the king’s not your concern.

  For what reason must you come oppress me?”

  Pilgrim said, “The priest’s vocation is on mercy based.

  We can’t bear seeing young boys put to death.”

  Their words went back and forth, each full of hate.

  The staff met the rod, they aimed at the heart.

  They snapped strange flowers, watching for their lives;

  They kicked up lichens as they slipped and slid.

  They fought till the cave’s bright mists had lost their glow,

  Till the ledge’s fine blossoms all collapsed.

  The bing-bangs grounded the birds in fear;

  Their shoutings scared the beauty into flight.

  Only the old fiend and the Monkey King remained

  As violent gusts of wind howled through the earth.

  They fought on and on till they left the cave,

  When Wuneng aroused his moronic might.

  Eight Rules, you see, was standing outside; when he heard them brawling inside, he became so excited that he could hardly contain himself. Whipping out his muckrake, he knocked down the willow tree with nine branches with one terrific blow. As he raked the fallen trunk some more, fresh blood sprouted from the root and it emitted a sort of moaning sound. “This tree has become a spirit!” said Eight Rules. “This tree has become a spirit!”

  He lifted his rake and was about to bring it down again when he saw Pilgrim emerging with the fiend. Without a word our Idiot rushed forward and attacked with the rake. The old fiend was already finding it difficult to withstand Pilgrim; the sight of Eight Rules’s rake, therefore, completely unnerved him. Turning to flee, he shook his body once and changed into a cold beam of light to head for the east. Unwilling to let up at all, the two of them instantly gave chase.

  As they shouted to close in for the kill, they suddenly heard the calls of phoenix and crane and saw the glow of auspicious luminosity. Then they caught sight of the Aged Star of South Pole, who had held down the cold beam of light. “Slow down, Great Sage,” he cried, “and stop chasing, Heavenly Reeds. This old Daoist salutes you!”

  “Brother Aged Star,” said Pilgrim, returning his greeting, “where have you come from?” With a chuckle, Eight Rules said, “You blubbery codger! Since you’ve held down the cold beam of light, you must have caught the fiend.” “He’s here, he’s here,” replied the Aged Star, smiling back at him. “I hope the two of you will spare his life.”

  “That old fiend’s not related to you, old Brother,” said Pilgrim. “Why are you speaking up for him?”

  “He happens to be my beast of burden,” replied the Aged Star with a smile, “and sneaked here to turn into a fiend.” “If he’s a creature of yours,” said Pilgrim, “ask him to change back to his true form for us to see.”

  When he heard this, the Aged Star released the cold beam of light and shouted, “Cursed beast! Show your true form quickly, and we’ll pardon your mortal offense!” Rolling over, the fiend at once revealed himself as a white deer. “This cursed beast!” said the Aged Star as he picked up the staff. “He has even managed to steal my staff!” Prostrate on the ground, the white deer could not utter a word; all he did was kowtow and shed tears. You see

  His whole body striped like a token of jade,

  Two upthrust horns like seven jagged blades.

  In hunger he would the herb garden seek

  And drink, in thirst, from the cloud-swollen creek.

  Aged, he had the pow’r of flight attained,

  And o’er the years a face that changed he gained.

  When he at this time hears his master’s call,

  He’ll show his form and in submission fall.

  After the Aged Star had thanked Pilgrim, he mounted the deer to leave, only to be grabbed by Pilgrim. “Old Brother,” he said, “please don’t leave yet. There are two unfinished matters.”

  “What sort of unfinished matters?” asked the Aged Star, and Pilgrim said, “We have yet to catch the beautiful girl, who must be some kind of fiendish creature, and we must return together to report to that befuddled ruler of the Bhikṣu kingdom.”

  “If you put it that way,” said the Aged Star, “I’ll be patient and wait a while. You and Heavenly Reeds go inside the cave and capture the beautiful girl. Then we can go together to let the king see these creatures in their true forms.” “Just wait a moment, old Brother,” said Pilgrim, “we’ll be back soon.”

  Arousing his spirit, Eight Rules followed Pilgrim into the Pure Florescence Divine Residence, both shouting, “Catch the monster-spirit! Catch the monster-spirit!” The beautiful girl was still shaking so violently that she could hardly think of fleeing; when she heard the shouts, she dashed behind the rock screen, but there was no back door for her to leave through. “Where are you going?” roared Eight Rules. “Watch my rake, you stinking, man-deceiving spirit!” As the beautiful girl did not even have a weapon in her hand, she could only step aside and change at once into a cold beam of light to try to flee. She was, however, met by the Great Sage, who slammed his rod down hard on the beam. Immediately the fiend tumbled to the ground and revealed her true form: that of a white-faced vixen. Unable to hold back his hands, our Idiot raised his rake and gave her head a terrific blow. Alas!

  The smile that shakes a city and a state

  Into a hairy, lumpish fox is made!

  “Don’t ma
sh her up!” cried Pilgrim. “Leave her body for that befuddled ruler to see.”

  Not bothered by the filth, our Idiot took her by the tail and yanked her body along to follow Pilgrim out the door. The Aged Star at that moment was just rubbing the deer’s head and scolding him. “Dear cursed beast!” he cried. “How could you turn your back on your master and come here to be a spirit? If I hadn’t arrived, you would have been struck to death by the Great Sage Sun.”

  “What are you saying, old Brother?” asked Pilgrim as he bounded out. “Just instructing the deer! Just instructing the deer!” replied the Aged Star. Throwing the dead vixen in front of the deer, Eight Rules asked, “Is this your daughter?” Nodding his head a few times, the deer stretched out his muzzle to sniff her and bleated several times, as if he could not bear parting with the vixen. He was given a whack on the head by the Aged Star, who said, “Cursed beast! Isn’t it enough that you got your life? Why smell her?” He then untied the sash of his robe and fastened it around the neck of the deer to drag him along. “Great Sage,” he said, “I’ll go see the Bhikṣu king with you.” “Just a moment!” replied Pilgrim. “We might as well clean out the inside first, so that this place will not breed any more monstrosity in the years to come.” When he heard this, Eight Rules lifted up his rake and showered blows on the willow trunk. Pilgrim recited again the magic word Oṁ to summon the local spirit, to whom he gave this instruction: “Find me some dried wood and make a good fire. I am trying to rid this place of monstrous calamity, so that you may be spared from any further oppression.” Turning round, the local spirit mounted gusts of cold winds with his ghostly troops to gather some frost-receiving grass, autumn-green grass, smartweeds, mountain-bud grass, dried southernwood, dried dragon-bones, and dried rushes—all withered plants that had been parched for more than a year and that could feed a fire like oil or fat. “Eight Rules,” Pilgrim cried, “no need to take the tree. Just stuff these things into the cave and light the fire. We’ll destroy the place.” As soon as the fire started, it did indeed turn the Pure Florescence monster residence into a flaming pit.